#thank u for letting me relive it

[goldfades]

hii can u do a 🥭 fic on Emily after a long day

prompt: 32. "sit on my face"

evangeline's 2.5k celebration !! [open!]

─ warnings | nsfw under the cut! please read at your own discretion!!!! face riding and praise, nothing too flithy

all day, emily had been craving your touch. from the moment she woke up, she couldn't help but think about how much she missed you. the way your fingers would trace patterns on her skin, the warmth of your embrace, the way your lips would brush against hers in moments of tenderness ─ all of it felt like a distant memory she longed to relive.

throughout her day, her mind kept wandering back to you. she found herself absentmindedly touching her lips, remembering the softness of your kisses. she didn't know why she was feeling so needy, maybe it was the stress of the week or maybe just plain old horniness, she needed you ─ all of you.

and by the time practice ended and she headed home, emily was practically trembling with anticipation. the need to be with you, to feel your touch, was overwhelming, driving her forward with a sense of urgency she couldn't ignore.

she practically threw you onto the bed, her strength fueled by the intense desire that had been building up inside her all day. your eyes widened in surprise as she straddled you, her hands eagerly roaming over your body, desperate to feel every inch of you beneath her touch.

the air crackled with electricity as emily's lips found yours in a feverish kiss, her hunger matching your own. there was no hesitation, no holding back ─ just raw, unbridled passion igniting between you as you surrendered to the primal urge that consumed you both.

your hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as you lost yourself in the intoxicating heat of the moment. the world faded away, leaving only the two of you, entwined in a dance of desire that knew no bounds.

"fuck, ma." she groaned into your lips before she pulled away. "sit on my face, princess, i need you,"

it wasn't a statement, it was a demand. you whimpered as she caressed your face before getting off you, laying on her back as her hands led your hips toward her face. she'd barely touched you and you were already soaking wet and it would've been embarrassing if you weren't so damn needy for her.

emily didn't waste any time, her lips attached to your wet cunt as you moaned, your back arching. she let out her own sounds that vibrated through your body, adding the pressure you already began to feel in your stomach.

the pure bliss you felt was indescribable, it felt like the world had faded away into nothing as her tongue explored you. her hands were gripping your hips harshly as she pulled you further down on her lips and didn't have it in you to protest anymore ─ you knew she wanted this as bad as you did.

"oh my god," you cried out as you began moving your hips against her mouth. you glanced down at emily, her eyes already on your face as she ate you out like her life depended on it.

your legs began to tremble, your neediness evident in the way your lips were pouted and your eyebrows were twisted in concentration. you felt the pressure in your stomach go tighter, your head falling back as you kept letting out desperate moans.

your hips began to falter but emily was determined to make you cum, hard. she gripped your hips even tighter and began moving them, her tongue finding your clit as you let out a gasp at the new sensation.

"fuck, em!" you moaned out as the knot snapped harshly, your body shaking as you doubled over. "oh fuck,"

she kept her tongue inside of you until she was satisfied, your legs were shaking as you slowly got off her face.

"good girl for me, hm? such a good girl," she sat up and pulled your face in for a sloppy and needy kiss, you could taste yourself on her tongue as you let out a small whimper.

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↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[hellfiremunsonn]

Something About Her. Steve Harrington x Reader

Something About her.

I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT

Summary: Steve is kind of obsessed with you, and you're kind of obsessed with him. Only ever watching from afar until a fight breaks out at the party you're both at.

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

Warnings: fem!reader, physical altercation, reader gets backhanded by homophobic male character, brief mention of blood, forehead gets slightly cut, reader has a vagina, sex but not sex? No penetrative sex, fingering, Steve is called a f***** and a queer in a derogatory sense by a homophobic character at the party. (I will star it out anyway just incase any of you are uncomfortable with that) (IF THERES ANYTHING I MISSED LET ME KNOW)

AN: Real quick, I don't condone using homophobic slurs towards anyone ever. This is not ME saying these things, it is a CHARACTER in the 80's saying those things. I myself am Queer so... ya know... I get it. NOT REALLY PROOF READ FOR MISTAKES JUST FOR THE VIBES (Huge thank you to my bby @rowanswriting for giving this a read through for me to make sure it wasn’t absolute garbage! love u <3)

Wordcount: 4k

Steve doesn't know when his fascination with you started, but he knows that once it did start he couldn't stop it. Anytime he was out at a party he was always looking for you. Subtly over the rim of his red cup, filled with whatever concoction that would get him buzzed the quickest. Personally he doesn't think it's stalking, because he doesn't follow you around any other time, but when he knows you're around, he's going to keep an eye out for you. Robin on the other hand, definitely thinks it's stalking and will make it a point to tease Steve about it whenever she can.

He's only talked to you a couple of times and the two of you wouldn't even consider each other friends but for some reason he always had to have an eye on you, and you always had an eye on him. 

Robin would constantly poke into his side and whispering about his "obsession" with you but he would just push her off and roll his eyes. Because someone as pretty as you would never look at him the same way. You were ethereal; Steve might actually believe it if you were from another world, considering he's had his fair share of experience of things that you'd think didn't exist.

He knows you watch him too. Praying you don't think it's weird for catching your eye one too many times, but being constantly enamoured by the way you move and speak, how you captivate everyone around you yet you're completely unaware of it. 

Robin decides that after watching the two of you eye fuck each other six more times that she's going to help. She skips over to you and you greet her with one of the brightest smiles he's ever seen.  The two of you talking together has four hands flying around with the dramatics of whatever story it is the pair of you have begun discussing and he's honestly surprised neither of you have hit one another in the face.

Steve still, stands with his back plastered against the wall, trying to ignore the dull thumping bass of whatever shitty music was playing, focusing hard on the way your lips moved, trying to get any sense at what you were saying. It takes him a minute to realize it's Robin you're talking to and he's more confused, zoning in on the way your tongue darts out to lick across your strawberry pink lips when he's interrupted from his thoughts by some beefy drunk, boy from high school trying to relive his glory days as he stumbles past him. 

He looks at Steve, looks at robin, and then back to Steve. He snickers "Damn Harrington, can't even get Robin to stick around with you? Maybe you are as queer as she is" he sways as he passes Robin and you. Robin freezes, before slowly looking back to Steve, praying tonight wasn't going to end with Steve beating someone up. Again. 

"Hey" Steves voice is loud, angry, startling almost everyone, despite how loud the music was. 

"Say what you want about me, but don't say shit about Robin alright?" Steve warns.

The drunken asshole makes his attempt to saunter up to Steve, getting far too close to his face before speaking "Or what pretty boy? Gunna get your boyfriend to come save you?" 

Steve can feel the hot air of his breath in his face, it reeks so badly of alcohol it almost smells like hand sanitizer. "Get lost man" Steve says shaking his head turning away from him, trying to distract himself from the prying eyes by above everyones heads, sipping his drink. 

What Steve doesn't notice is how ridged you've become and how hard your fists are shaking where they are clenched at your sides. 

He laughs, thinking he's won whatever show it is he's putting on for everyone and goes to leave before turning back to Steve. "F****t can't fight his own battles, what a pussy"

Before Steve can even fully turn around you've pushed past robin and are standing in front of the drunk, arm pulled back before your tiny fist makes contact with the dudes face. "What's your problem!" You yell.  Steve has never heard your voice so loud before. "You homophobic piece of shit? What decade were you born in saying shit like that?" Your hand hurts, like really bad, but you're too prideful to let him see you cry. No one is going to say shit like that about anyone around you, let alone Robin, or Steve. 

"Fucking bitch" he spits, blood filled saliva hitting the white tiled floor beneath your feet. His hand raises quick, and without a second thought he lands a single smack across your face with the back of his hand, and then walks away. You involuntary gasp at the impact, while the rest of the party goers shout and follow him but you can barely hear over the ringing in your ears, but you hope they beat the shit out of him outside. You feel a drip of blood form and start to slide down your face from where his large class ring made contact with the skin just above your eyebrow. Your hand trembles as it reaches up to touch the warm liquid before bringing your hand down to see your blood covered finger tips. 

When you look up, blurry faces stand around you, and they're all speaking at once, you're unsure where to look, or who to respond to when someone gently takes your hand, pulling you with them upstairs and away from the chaos below. Only when the click of the bathroom door locks do your senses start to come back and you realize you're standing in front of Steve Harrington and that tears had begun rolling down your cheeks.

At the same time you both blurt out "Are you okay?" and Steve laughs in amusement. 

"Am I okay? I'm not the one who sucker punched someone twice her size and is bleeding from her head!" he exclaims. He laughs again before muttering an "Oh shit" Grabbing at the nearest hand towel and running it under the faucet. "Come here, sit" he says patting the countertop. You watch him with wide doe eyes, pupils blown from the adrenaline coursing through you, but still you listen, slowly and a little robotically you lean against the counter, Steves large hand holding the side of your waist to help as you hop up onto the counter. He's talking, but you don't really hear him so instead you focus on watching him as he moves around the bathroom, finding things to help with the tiny wound on your forehead. 

He dabs the damp towel against your forehead quickly and abruptly. You wince and pull back, your two hands coming up to hold his wrist in place. 

"I'm sorry, shit, are you okay? I should have warned you first" 

"I'm sorry that guy said that" you say finally finding your voice, it's shaky and a little croaky but it's there. 

"Don't be, I've heard worse" he smiles and you let go of his wrist signalling to him that he can continue and so he does. "S'not so bad of a cut, just bled a lot cause it's on your head"

You laugh a little, and the relief Steve feels when he hears it skyrockets. "You've got quite the arm on you, more guys like him should be afraid of you"

You laugh again. "I've had some practice" you shrug and sniffle, pretending to play it cool. 

"Oh yeah? You beating up guys in the alleyways behind bars? Lemme see those guns" he pesters, lifting up the arm you used to throw your punch, and you flex it proudly. The muscle bulging and Steve gives it a squeeze. 

He wolf whistles. "Wow-ee that's some A plus muscle right there" he teases but short circuits when you look up at him. Mascara smudged just under your eyes from where the tears overflowed, cheeks rosy with a blush or from the adrenaline, he can't tell but his hand comes up to hold the side of your face anyway and he does everything he can to hold himself together when he feels you lean into his touch. 

"You're so pretty" he blurts, feeling the heat of your cheek under his palm when he says it. 

"So are you" you whisper. You can feel the trembling starting to begin in your bones as the adrenaline wears off, your body finally attempting to come down from the earlier altercation. Steve notices at the first twitch of your shoulder. 

"S-sorry" you stutter through your teeth as they begin to chatter along with the rest of your body. 

"Stop apologizing for things you can't control" he says taking your hands and placing them on the sides of his waist. He doesn't mean for it to be forceful or sexual when he does it, but his one hand comes between your legs and pushes them apart by your knees, positioning himself between them. "Here, hug me, it'll help with the shakes" He pulls you into him and you're thankful for the tightness of his arms around around you. You sigh into him, feeling the slightest bit of tension leave your shoulders. Steve notices and slides one hand to the back of your neck, pushing in just slightly at the base, massaging it until he feels your shoulders start to slump.

The groan that leaves you was almost pornographic, and Steve has to calm himself down immediately or you might be able to feel how much that little noise had affected him. Steve tried really hard, he did, but he's standing between your legs and you're so close to him that he knows if he shifted just a little you'd feel his dick press into your stomach. 

When the shaking starts to stop you lean back from him, head tilted up towards him but your eyes stay closed. Your hands still stationed on his hips, and Steve doesn't stop his fingers where they massage the base of your neck. 

"That feels really good" you sigh, eyes flitting open lazily. 

"Good" Steve says with a smile, his opposite hand coming up to push your hair back behind your ear. He watches as your eyebrows furrow slightly. 

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothing" you lie. It's the adrenaline. It's like when you come down from a really big cry, and your body doesn't know what to do with all the feelings so it sends them between your legs, making everything in you ache for someone to touch you, for Steve to touch you. You shift on the counter, legs instinctively trying to close, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against the insides of your thighs, teasing you. 

Steve can feel your heartbeat pick up from where his fingers are still pressed against your skin, and he's watching you with curious eyes. He can sense it, he knows, but he wont make a move unless you initiate it, anything, even if it's subtle. But you have to be the one to start it. With one too many run in's with the end of the world, Steve knows that sometimes when the adrenaline wears off the only thing you want to do is fuck.

"Is it your head?" He asks "Does it hurt?"

"It's not my head" you say as you shake it. "It hurts a little b-but I'm okay, really"

Steve hums, his pressing touch moving from your neck and you have to stop yourself from whimpering at the loss. 

"Look at me" he says and you do, eyes darting back and forth between his. "I just wanna make sure you don't have a concussion" he widens his stance, sliding his feet outwards until he's just about your height from where you sit, his big warm hands come up and cup either sides of your face while he assess you.

A loud crash followed by laughter startles the two of you jump slightly. Your hands grip onto Steves waist harder and he's moved forward so now the two of you are pressed together, and he can see it in your face when his stubbornly hard dick makes contact with you.

"Steve?" you say quietly, and he's already preparing an apology in his head. "Um I know we don't really know each other" You swallow thickly. "But um" you trail off, glancing to your hands and where they rest, thumbs slipping past the hem of his shirt, touching the warm skin of his belly. He inhales sharply, and you look at him mesmerized. 

"Are you sure you're not concussed?" he questions "Or did that guy really hit me instead and I'm unconscious having a wonderful dream right now?"

You giggle and his cock strains in his jeans. 

"I don't wanna have sex with you though" you say quickly. "I mean now, right now, I definitely want to have sex with you, I just, not in a bathroom at a party? I wanted to- shit" You scrunch your eyes closed and take a breath before looking back at him. "I wanted to ask you on a date first"

"You wanted to ask me? Me on a date?" Steve says quietly. 

You nod, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. So shy, yet so brave.

'I'm fucked' He thinks. 'I'm going to fall in love with her'

"C-can, we um, can we touch each other? Is that okay?" your hands hold him a little tighter and his stomach tenses. 

"Y-yeah, please, can I kiss you?" he asks desperately and you nod, your hands finally reaching up to cup his face. He grabs you by the hips and slides you closer to the edge of the counter, your old converse hitched on the sides of his waist, pressed against his brown leather belt. Your crotch now pressed against his jean covered cock, and he realizes you've been wearing a dress the entire time he's been stood between your legs, and only now has caught a glance at the pretty pink panties you wear. 

You whimper when he kisses you. His lips soft and plump just like you had thought they would be, and the tiny groan he lets out goes straight to your cunt and your hips jump ever so slightly. You kiss each other feverishly, sloppy and quick. Every kiss, every smack of your lips, every move of his tongue has your stomach flipping and your hips rolling into him. He's grinding into you without a single care, he could cum like this and wouldn't dare be embarrassed about it when you look like that under him. How could he not. 

He does almost bust his load immediately when your hands go for his belt, quickly unbuckling it and tugging at the button and zipper until it's all the way down. He breaks the kiss to watch you do it. 

"Is this okay?" you ask, fingers dipped into the waistband of his boxers.

"You could do anything you want with me right now and I wouldn't care" He jokes. "So yes this is more than okay"

"Can you touch me too?" You ask with your baby Bambi eyes and god Steve nearly loses it. How can you ask him something so dirty but make it sound so sickly sweet. 

"God, yeah, of course I can sweet thing" he says sliding his hands up your thighs until he's under the hem of your red dress, it's covered in dainty little white flowers, and he thinks it looks perfect on you. He searches for the band of your panties before tugging at them until you shift, letting him slide them out from under you until they're dangling off your right ankle that is still stationed on his hip. 

His fingers slide easily through your slick and he groans. "Fucking christ"

You giggle again, sighing when he grazes your clit and your knees instinctively try to lock together.

"It's taking everything in me not to bury my face in your cunt right now Jesus Christ, look at her" he praises, watching his shiny fingers and the way they move against you, the way your hips twitch to meet them. 

"Her?" you ask.

"Your pussy babe" he says obviously.

Your entire body engulfs in heat, and you can't tell if you're embarrassed that he's talking about your pussy like it's a person, or if it's turning you on even more. 

"O-Oh my god" you say, your words slipping into a moan mixed with a gasp. Head tilting back until it hits the mirror behind you. 

"Jesus baby, let's keep your head intact alright?" he jokes, pulling you into him with one hand, placing it protectively on the back of your head as you bury your face into the crook of his neck while his finger traces your entrance. Your brain buzzes with electricity and you forget that just seconds before you were tugging at Steves jeans, but then he touched you. 

He circles your hole a few times, before easily sliding one of his fingers into you. You whine, open mouth, almost drooling where your mouth hovers against Steves skin. He leans back slightly, chin touching his chest to catch a glimpse at you to make sure the noise he heard come out of you wasn't a sob. But the thought of you crying because of his fingers? He can't imagine what it would be like to have you and your pussy crying on his cock.

"Feel good?" He teases. 

"So good" You moan, lifting your head from his neck, staring down to watch his finger curl into you. Forcing yourself to look away to continue your attention to his jeans. Hands shaky has they slip his belt through the loops, pulling at the button of his jeans and tugging the zipper down. You try your best to push his pants down enough to get your hand in so you can finally feel his cock but he's distracting. 

"F-fuck" you mewl, and it's high pitch and girly, and if you were alone you'd cringe at the sound. 

"Need some help?" Steve offers, stopping his movements and slowly removing his fingers from you, shiny and slick as he helps you to free his aching cock. 

"Thank you" you whisper. Once his cock is free you wrap your hand around him, thick, hot and heavy in your palm and he groans, tilting his head back a little before reaching a hand up to tap your cheek, ripping your gaze away from your hand to his eyes. 

"Open" hes looking down at you through his lashes, cheeks flushed a perfect pink and his chest moves quickly while you continue to jerk him off. You listen, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out and Steve huffs out a laugh as he slowly slides his two fingers into your mouth. The ones that were just buried in your cunt. You lap at them greedily, body buzzing from the approval when Steves hums in delight, head tiling to watch your mouth. 

You pull his fingers from your mouth with gasp. "I have an idea"

Steve raises a brow as you push forward until you slide off of the counter, turning around so your ass is how facing him, both of you looking at each other through the reflection of the mirror. Watching you as you lean your hips against the counter, pulling him towards you by his belt until he's almost touching you. Reaching behind you, you take his cock into your hand, stepping onto your tippy toes until its slid between your thighs, pressed against your leaking pussy. 

"Fucking without fucking" you say with a smile. Your hand presses lightly against him so the tip of his cock stays connected to you while Steve moves his hips. 

Sliding through your folds over and over as he mimics how he'd snap his hips against you if he were able to fuck you properly. It's probably the hottest things Steve has ever done with anyone, and he knows that he will think about this every single day until the day he dies, and he's absolutely content with that. 

His hands move to your hips, where he grips you tightly. Your dress sliding up with each thrust until the swell of your ass is exposed before him. Rippling with each thrust against his lower half, and he tries to stop himself, he does, but he can't. He lets his palm come down on your right cheek, a little harsh, and goes to apologize but the way your knees shake, and the moan that slips out from you tells him you liked it. 

"M'so c-close Steve" you force out. Your cheek is pressed against the cold marble top of the counter, and you're pretty sure you're drooling onto it but you couldn't care less with how good Steve is making you feel. "Steve I-" You can barely keep your legs up, but your trying. 

"Help" you whimper, and Steve knows what you need immediately. Wrapping a large arm around your waist, holding up most of your weight while still snapping his hips. 

"I got ya pretty girl" he mumbles into the skin of your shoulder. 

"Are you gunna cum Stevie?" You moan, silently begging he's as close as you are. 

"So close" he grunts. "Wanna see that face of yours when you cum, can you do that for me?" He asks sliding his hand into your hair until he's got a tight grip on the roots, tugging gently to instruct you to lift your head up. He doesn't want to be too rough with you just yet, not when you haven't properly been able to have that conversation. 

Lifting your head with his direction until you're forced to look at yourself and Steve in the mirror. He looks so pretty, face flushed, mouth slightly agape, his bottom lip slick with saliva. You could cry at how pretty he was. 

"Steve, Steve, st-eve, I'm gun-NAH!" you cum hard, all over your hand and his cock. Thighs trembling. 

"Fuck you're so hot" Steve mutters. "Gunna cum sweetheart where do-"

"On me, please I want it on me" You say almost frantically. Steve turns your around, helping you sit back up onto the counter so your legs are spread and he's stationed between them. Pumping his cock fast, the noise crude as it echos around the bathroom, slick with your arousal. 

"Fuck, fuck baby" Steve says through gritted teeth.

And you're smiling, and nodding, eyes glassed over and so fucked out, and he thinks he might marry you seeing the way you want him, and his cum so badly. He loses it when your hand joins his around him with those final few pumps, and his cum shoots across your stomach dripping down your connected hands to the base of his cock. 

He's panting and smiling, and trying to hold back a laugh, watching the way his cum drips down your body, down between the crease where your thigh meets hip, lazily flowing down to join the mess between your legs. 

You giggle, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you wait till Steve finally looks up at you. 

"You're insane" he laughs, grabbing your face with both hands and kisses you quick. 

"Only a little" you say between kisses. "Take me home?" you ask bravely. 

"Anywhere" Steve says quickly. he tugs his jeans back up, stuffing himself back into his pants, and adjusts his belt. You hop down from the counter and attempt to fix your hair so it looks a little better. Kicking one foot up behind you, you tug your panties off your ankle and turn to face Steve, shoving them into the front pocket of his jeans. Steve swoons at the sly look in your eyes, and the way you didn't even attempt to clean his cum off of you when the two of you turn to leave the quiet confines of the bathroom.

You giggle again when he interlocks his fingers with yours, letting him pull you along through the sea of people and out onto the front lawn down the street and only a few blocks away until you reached Steves house. 

"Yeah"  Steve thought. "I'm gunna marry her"

thanks for reading! <3

[cry4mina]

Heaven

(Nayeon x Fem!reader)

Word Count: 6.9k

Fluff/Smut

Summary: After being with Nayeon for a while, it's clear that she is your future. You both decide it's time to move in with each other, this fic takes place on move in day!

TW: Fluffy, cute, oral, fingering, a little nipple play, strap ons, teasing, lots of almost moments. Let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: @dovveri (the precious angel) had asked me to expand on this MONTHS ago and I took my sweet ass time (I stalled bc fluff is not my strong suit.) BUT it here now and I hope you enjoy it!<3

Also! Happy 6 Months to Cry4Mina! I know I say I'm grateful for all of you all the time but hitting 600 followers AND it being my 6 months of writing has really just been amazing.

Thank you all for taking the time to read my works, the support you've given me and all the love! I'm really looking forward to writing a lot of the drafts that I have, and interacting with everyone! I hope you all have such a lovely day/night and get you a little sweet treat! <3

The walls are blank. Every place where art once hung, now patched with tack and smoothed over. Boxes lining the small living room and parts of the kitchen…reliving some of the sacred memories built here when your phone chimes, interrupting the sweet thoughts. You to pull it out of your pocket to check the notification.

Nay: I’m outside baby (9:45am)

Not even bothering to reply, you just pull the door open to see a U-haul truck backed into the parking spot closest to your soon to be old front door and Nayeon no where in sight.

Looking around in confusion, you hear the clattering of the big metal rolling door on the back of the truck.

Eyes meeting the sound as it rattles, ascending upwards and stopping in place. A petite Nayeon lifting it and climbing into the back to push it all the way to the top, revealing the empty truck she rented just for the things you decided to bring along with you.

She leaves you completely breathless, per usual…but today, being the day you were moving in together, your heart throbbed with love and affection for your beautiful girlfriend.

White sneakers with long white socks up to her knees, black shorts that were intentionally too short, a top that had hints of purple and a trucker hat to finish the look off. Appearing as if she just got out of a photoshoot or filming a video or something more extravagant than helping you move.

Your jaw hit the floor as she half jogged up to you, and jumping into your arms and wrapping her legs around you, expecting you to hold her up while her forearms found their place on your shoulders and her hands were interwoven with themselves.

Being sure to catch her, providing some support from under her, she lean back and grabbed your cheeks, kissing them one, two, three times before completely beaming at you from the few inches she had of height on you in this position.

“Hi, baby!,the ” another kiss, this one on the lips, to taper off her sentence while her hands found their way around your neck once more.

“Hi, my love, you look amazing.” absorbing her like flowers take in the sun, feeling her skin on yours was magic.

“Only for you.” watching as her eyes convert to a half lidded seduction, her tone emanated a specific type of want that could only be translated privately, very very privately.

Nayeon reverts the seductive face, unwrapping her legs and stand on her own, keeping her hands connected around your neck and pulling you into an even bigger hug, fingers tapping on your shoulder blades to the song she was humming, before shimmying in your arms.

Both of you start giggling before she finally lets go of you, very obviously excited about this adventure you were going on together. Her hand finds yours, lightly gripping it and swinging it around while she talks.

“Okay, so the movers should be here any minute - we are loading what you’re keeping into this truck” pointing to the one that she pulled up in.

“And anything we are going to donate will go in the movers truck, they will drop it off and then we will go…home, the movers will meet us there and we will get everything organize. Sound like a plan?” the loving look she gives you when she says home made your knees weak, jelly filled joints fighting to hold the weight of the love you held for her every thing she did, but especially when she said something sweet or looked at you a certain way.

“Sounds good, babe.” uttered over the squeaking of the brakes from the truck of movers that just pulled up and her squealing at the sight of them.

The 3 men come over, asking you for detailed instructions on what to keep and what to put in the “donation” truck. Most of the things you were keeping was in boxes but you were keeping your king sized bed, Nayeon was too in love with it to even think about getting a new one.

“But it’s already broken in on my side, I don’t want to do that again. Don’t you like sleeping on a cloud? I can’t believe you’re considering a new one…” argued a few weeks ago when you half way discussed what furniture you wanted to keep.

Both of you decided the living room would be the focus first, you’d want a new couch if anything. Wanting to pick out the decorations together for each room would be a fun bonding experience and that was something you were very much looking forward to.

“Alright, we will get started.” One of the men said, walking into the living room and starting with the couch you weren’t going to keep, taking it to the donation truck while you and Nayeon focused on the boxes.

Slowly removing everything from the apartment until it was completely empty, you couldn’t help but have a little moment of sadness, not that you were upset about this new chapter in your life with Nayeon, but more so the memories of this apartment and what it meant to you.

Nayeon sees you staring at the bare walls and taking the last walk through of the place to make sure everything was taken care of. Waiting for you to have your moment, she doesn’t rush you, simply leaning on the door frame with her arms crossed, silently watching the emotions change across your face.

It’s an emotional transition, even if it’s a good one. This place was where you built your relationship, the foundation of the steady and healthy bond you and her shared. Moving in together was a massive step that you were more than ready to take, but you couldn’t help allow the nostalgia consume you for a moment as a few tears roll down your cheek.

Feeling her eyes on your back, the edges of your mouth turn up knowing the exact look she’s giving you before you even see it.

“I can feel you watching me” giggling through the droplets that threatened to drip down your chin, you try to wipe them before she can see.

“Don’t try to hide it, I know you’re crying!” she walks up behind you, giving you a hug from behind and resting her head on your shoulder blades.

Sniffling while trying to gain your composure again, Nayeon just holds you until your breath smooths out more. Rocking you from side to side in attempts to comfort you.

“Don’t worry, baby” spinning you around carefully so you can face her; she likes to make eye contact when she speaks.

“This is going to be great! And do you want to know the best part?” leaning into you, putting her weight on you to make you hold her back.

“What’s the best part, my love?”

“We get to do it together!” Nayeon practically tackles you to the ground, smooching you all over the face and tickling you in the process.

Rolling around and trying to avoid her hands as you both laugh, you love how playful your relationship with her is. She always knew how to make you smile, in every single way you could imagine.

Once she put a halt to the tickle fest she brought on, she was straddling you on the floor, hands resting on your stomach and your hands were on her thighs. You sit up, placing your hands on her ass and scoot her into you.

Faces so close you can feel her breath on your lips, you can tell she’s riled up from the way you’re looking at her and your hand placement, it was easier to get her worked up - easier than she would like to admit.

Reaching your hands up from your girlfriend’s thighs and trailing them up her chest, watching as her breath hitches when you pass her collarbones.

Gliding your digits up her neck and to her cheeks, you feel her flush - a noticeable wave of heat rushing through her.

Sight going from her lips, up to her eyes, and then back down to her lips again, you bring her mere centimeters from your mouth.

Her breathing speeds up.

Feeling her heart race through your fingertips, the way her eyes were locked in on you, and the way she held you close without an inch of wiggle room…you knew exactly what she was thinking about…and what she wanted.

“Baby” breathed to her, teasing her with your whispers and the distance between your lips.

Nayeon’s is completely enthralled, looking like she wants to beg for you to touch her. Eyes returning to their half lidded state from earlier, she starts rocking her hips on your lap, you stop her immediately.

“Not yet, baby. We still have work to do…and I want pizza for dinner.” kissing her forehead before standing with her still attached to you.

“You’re like a koala, you know that?” chuckling at her for not letting go of you, bringing her outside with you and locking the door.

She whines really loudly, “Fuck you, ugh”

“Whyyyyyyy? What did I do?!” gasped back in fake shock, you knew exactly why she was saying it. She rests her head on your shoulder.

“Because, you did that on purpose!” Pouting at the state she’s in.

“Did what on purpose, honey?” kissing her cheeks while walking her to your car that she was planning on drive to the new place.

Nayeon gets down off you and sticks her hands out for your keys with a fake attitude, you dangle them in front of her. She attempts to snatch them, but you’re too quick and she misses.

“Did what on purpose?” poking her chest lightly just to get a little rise out of her.

She leans into your ear closely, playing with the collar of your shirt before she speaks soft sultry words right into you.

“For making me wet and making me wait to feel you.”

Jaw dropping for a second time tonight, she kisses your check tenderly. Winking at you while she bites her lip. She takes the keys out of your hand and replaces them with the U-Haul keys.

“Last one home buys dinner!” rapidly getting into the car and backing out of the driveway.

Still standing in the same spot, unable to stop yourself from smiling at how goofy she is. Shaking your head while giggling, it’s impossible not to fall deeper in love with her by the day.

Turning around one last time, admiring what was home in the afternoon light before getting into the truck and going to what was your next chapter of life.

—

The drive wasn’t too long, maybe 30 minutes at most. Driving in silence, you’re excited to get settled in your new place. Living in the memory of when you and Nayeon toured the apartment you’d be moving into.

Hardwood floors, vaulted ceilings, massive windows that were floor to ceiling, and the lighting fixture in the dinning area that Nayeon fell in love with.

Remembering the way she exclaimed “baby, look at this!” At every turn, around every corner, you both knew this was the place you were going to start the adventure of living together.

The island in the kitchen was what you were particularly excited about, having more room to cook for her when you had a moment. She didn’t know that was the intention, but being able to surprise her with it some night would be great.

Turning the corner to the complex, you already see your car in the assigned spot. Nayeon is leaning on the drivers side door, scrolling through her phone when you back the truck in next to her.

“Ha! Dinner is on you tonight!” Happily skipping over to the drivers side door as you hop out of the truck.

“Yeah, yeah!” waving your hand and rolling your eyes before smirking at her.

“Pepperoni and extra cheese, please!”

“Alright, alright. Let’s go check out the place!” putting your hand out in front of her with puckered lips, waiting for your keys and a kiss, she’s happy to give both.

—

As you reach the elevator, you notice the weight of your keys is different. Looking down while stepping into the metal box what was going to get you to the floor you apartment was on - you notice a light blue key with an N and a heart on it.

Toying with the key in your hand, you look up at her to see she’s distracted and doesn’t know that you’ve noticed the cute little surprise she’s placed on your key ring while she was waiting for you to arrive.

“Baby” called to her softly from a foot away.

Nayeon looks over at you, eyes looking directly into yours and then down at the keys in your hands, showing her the one she placed on your keyring.

She smiles, pulling her keys off her belt loop, flashing you a key with your initial and a heart next to it, in your favorite color.

“I thought it would be a nice cute little surprise for our move in day.” intertwining her pinky with yours.

“Thank you, it’s so cute and thoughtful.”

The elevator dings, sliding the doors open and allowing you and your girlfriend to step into the hallway.

Taking the corridor to the right, Nayeon basically pulling you to the door of your new home. The door was black with shiny brass numbers reflecting back to you.

She slips her key into the door, the heavy lock turns and clicks into place. Nayeon looks over at you and smiles before pushing the door open and squealing in excitement, jumping in place. Gosh, she’s so cute.

Grabbing her hand before she can run inside, you pull her close to you, pressing your body against hers. She’s going to take this as you teasing her, but really you just had something you wanted to do.

“Wait a sec, I think we should be a little traditional about this.”

“Traditional?” Scoffed at you while her hands are wrapped around your waist.

“Yeah, traditional…” placing your hand behind her legs and scooping her up into your arms, bridal style, before she can protest.

Nayeon squeals at being lifted up but her arms instinctively wrap around your neck. When she realizes what you’re doing she starts giggling at the sweetness of the moment.

Unable to take her eyes off you as you take your step over the threshold into your new home. One of her rather large hands descends to your chest, placing it flat under your collar bone.

“Home.” said lightly under your breath but loud enough for her to hear you, panning the emptiness of the apartment you were about to fill with not only your physical things, but the love you had for each other.

Removing her hand off your chest, she uses her fingers to turn your head towards her and kisses you softly.

“Home.” Pointing one of her fingers into your chest, bring her lips back to yours.

Resting your foreheads together, you lower her legs to signal her to stand on her own. She whines in protest, leaning against you as she fights against regaining her balance.

“Are you ready?” Grabbing her hand, looking her in the eyes and smiling.

“Never been more ready, actually.” Kissing the top of your hand, grabbing her phone and checking her messages to see the other team of movers was outside and ready to move the furniture into your new space.

“They’re here!” Gleefully jumping in place again before heading for the door.

“Let’s go!” Following closely behind her and slapping her ass playfully.

Nayeon lets out a soft moan. Whipping around to look at you to see if you’ve heard, covering her mouth with her hand trying to hide her own shock and the flushing in her cheeks.

Eye widen as before you let out a thunderous laugh.

“Don’t worry, baby. We can take care of that later.” Kissing her forehead and leading her down to the elevator by her hand, with her trying to cover the flushed cheeks she now wears in embarrassment.

—

“Hmm…maybe a little more to the left? This doesn’t feel centered to me.” Nayeon is pensive, finger on her cheek as she asks the movers, yet again, to move the bed over so it’s perfectly centered in your new bedroom.

“Babe, it looks fine where it is!” Chiming in from the closet where you were hanging all of the clothes you had smartly packed on hangers so they’d be easier to deal with.

Organizing the closet so the left side was hers and the right side was yours, you could hear her sigh from the other room.

Picturing her exact movements in your minds eye, you knew she was shifting her weight from one leg to another, biting her pointer finger with her other arm crossed over her chest.

“Okay…I hear you…but what if we scooted it over just a little bit to the ri-“ sneaking up behind her and silencing her with a soft bite to the neck causing her to stifle a whine.

“I think it’s perfect where it is, Nayeon.” kissing her cheek before you turn your attention to the movers.

“Thank you so much for your help today!” shaking their hands as they leave the room and walk out the front door.

“Baby, I really don’t know if I like the bed in this position or not.” Nayeon’s hands are on her hips again, trying to figure out if it would look better centered on the other wall.

“Honey…we can rearrange any time we want. No worries, let’s just get the rest of the house together, okay?” you throw the sheets at her for her to make the bed she was scowling at and head back to continue what you’ve been doing in the closet.

Nayeon followed you into the closet, sheets in hand, with a pout that would make anyone drop what they’re doing to please her.

“What’s wrong, my love?” Pausing the organizing of your clothes as you spoke to her.

“I’m hungry and the bed is crooked.” she sighs and give a playful little stomp, throwing the cutest tantrum you’ve ever seen.

“I’ll order the pizza now then, okay?” pulling your phone out to send through the order you already prepared for the two of you.

“But what about the bed?”

“We can fix it later, okay? Just put the sheets on it and we will worry about it after dinner.”

Nayeon rolls her eyes and heads out of the closet to complete the task at hand.

After about 5 minutes goes by, a frustrated grumble echoes through the room, followed by shouting and sighing.

“Ugh! This bed is crooked! It’s not freaking centered!” Nayeon huffs as she finishes putting the sheets on, trying to scoot the heavy bed and frame over an inch or two to make it “centered”.

She’s so dramatic.

You adore this part of her.

“Let me see.” Finishing up the last of the closet and stepping out to see what she how “crooked” it was.

The bed was straight against the wall…there’s no way it could’ve actually been crooked. Giving her a side eyed glare, you lightly push her shoulder.

“It’s perfectly straight, what do you mean?” Chuckling at her while you put your hands up in confusion.

“No, it’s not! Look!”

Nayeon squats down in front of the bed, point and explaining how it’s not lined up with the floor boards and all you can do is admire how passionately she’s making her case about something so silly.

Just smiling, you walk up to her as she continues on her rant about the bed.

“So you see, that’s why it’s not straight because this is…not…” tilting her head up, eyes lacing every part of you as you step up to her and place a finger under her chin.

“I think it looks good, don’t you?” leading her to stand, her eyes still not leaving you.

Nayeon stutters through her mentions of now suddenly agreeing with you.

“O-oh, uhm…y-yes, I don’t t-think we should move it at all.”

She’s so cute.

Hooking a finger into on of her belt loop, tugging it so she somewhat falls into you. Using that to your advantage, swiftly turning and falling yourself. Landing flat with your back on the bed with her strategically on top of you.

Her surprised face hovering over yours, she hoists her leg over your torso, straddling your hips instinctively and putting you right back where you were only a few hours ago at your old apartment.

“Oops, wow! I can’t believe you would trip like that. So clumsy of you! Even if I do love meeting you like this…” tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear.

“And what if I meet you like this” leaning in and brushing her lips against yours, the warmth between her legs gives a flash of familiarity, and her sultry tone brings a rush of endorphins, melting your heart and ruining any sense of composure you had.

“I can feel your heart beating…do I still make you nervous?” whispered against your lips before connecting them completely.

Soft and slow turns into passionate and needy very quickly.

The steamy make out session escalated into you tugging Nayeon’s shirt off, trying to minimize the time your lips spent apart.

Nayeon’s tongue tracing your lips before she stood up and started undoing on your belt, the clattering of her impatience matching the buckle as it hit the floor.

Hastily unbuttoning your pants, tugging them down without hesitation. She needed you, rapid movements serve as proof of her hunger, the way she doesn’t care how aggressively she’s ripping the black denim off your thighs.

Haphazardly tossing each piece of clothing as she rips it off you, first your belt, then your pants, and your shirt following very closely behind, your hands helping discard the unwanted fabric.

“Finally…I get to have you how I’ve been wanting you allll da-“

The doorbell cuts her sentence off.

“You’re kidding…” Nayeon’s body tenses, sighing as she runs a finger down your stomach as she rolls her eyes in disdain at who ever just pushed the button that caused the chime that stopped her from taking you the way she had been imagining.

“That would be dinner.” Giggling at her frustration, only adding to it.

Nayeon just rolls her eyes and stands up, grabbing her shirt and throwing it on while mumbling to herself and mindlessly flicking off the front door before opening it.

You opt to just slip on a pair of black sweat pants and walk around in your sports bra, leaving your bedroom and hearing her say thank you to the pizza delivery boy before latching the door shut and locking it.

Grabbing some paper plates from the kitchen, bringing them to the empty living room and sitting on the floor next to Nayeon, and turning the TV on to put on a random YouTube video while you guys eat.

Taking a few bites and then looking over at her, you see she’s scrolling through her phone with an annoyed look on her face.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“What do you think about this?” Flipping her phone around to show a coffee table with a glass top made of light wood and gold accents.

“Oh that’s cute!” Leaning into her and scrolling to see if it had any matching sets.

“So I was thinking” she starts, “what if we did like a sage green with gold accents and with like light wood and a lot of plants for the living room.” taking a bite of her slice of pizza and doing a little happy dance now that she’s finally eating.

“I love that idea but let’s do a little contrast.” Clicking on the black version of the gold laced table and showing her.

“Wait…you might be on to something here.” Scrolling down and seeing the matching furniture that goes along with the table.

“I did save a couch I saw, let me find it.” quickly pulling up the lighter green couch she had in mind and showing it to you.

“Oh, babe, that’s perfect!” Leaning over and kissing her cheeks before taking another bite of your pizza.

“I think it would match so well with the gold accents and…” she rattles on about

Spending the entirety of dinner talking about placement and furniture, you find yourselves tired from a long day of planning, organizing and moving things around.

Taking it upon yourself to pack up the left-overs from dinner in the kitchen, you can’t help but wonder where your girlfriend has gone off too.

“Nayeonieeeeeeeee!” called out when you hear her cackle from the master bedroom.

“I’m in here, baby!” echoed off the walls to the empty living room.

“You better not moving that bed again!” Sliding the pizza box into the fridge, laughing to yourself about the joke you just made.

“I’m NOT! Ugh!” you walk into your new shared bedroom to see Nayeon on FaceTime with Momo, talking about the moving process and how smoothly it went with the company she recommended.

Catching her attention was fairly easy as you were still very shirtless and the sweatpants you wore to cover up were a little big on you, falling off almost so the waistband of your underwear was sticking out for her to see.

“Momo when you come over tomorrow, we will give you a tour! Besides we still have some…things to…” she’s staring right at you, eye shifting from your exposed waistband up to your bare torso.

An idea pops into your head, an idea that would bring her to her knees and back to where you were an hour or two ago.

Making eye contact with her while she zones out, you tug on the string that is keeping your sweatpants anchored on your hips, letting them drop to the floor before you step out of them. Her jaw drops at how suddenly exposed you are with only your panties and your bra covering you…for now.

Slipping your fingers under the hem of what was covering your chest, you slowly pull it off over your head, leaving you in just your underwear. Twirling the bra by it’s strap around your finger, you fling it at her, it lands on her legs.

Nayeon’s eyes bugged out of her head, like a cartoon character, as she sat up - readjusting her position out of what seemed to be a little bit of gay panic mixed with anticipation.

“….hey, uhm…let me call you back.” Nayeon quickly hangs up the phone as Momo’s protest began through the speaker.

“Wait! Nayeon we have to talk abou-” click.

You have her right where you want her.

She stands, hastily making her way over to you. Hands reaching out to make contact, she’s pulling you in close, laying her hands on your hips and tracing small circles that travel to your lower back and to the waistband she was just staring at.

“You have all my attention, honey.” kissing your cheeks, trailing feather-light kisses down your jaw line and onto the side of your neck before bringing her lips back to yours.

Within minutes of this sweet dangerous kiss beginning, you’d devolve into a melted version of your former self with only her name stuck in your throat and the flavor of her lips at the tip of your tongue as it familiarizes itself with hers again, noting every predicted movement and sway of her as she holds you in front of her.

Arms raising up and resting on her shoulders, your fingers weave with her hair, pulling her into your further and pressing your chest against her same purple shirt from earlier.

“Take this off.” parting from her for only a moment to give her the command to remove the article of clothing that was in your way before returning your mouth to hers.

Maintaining eye contact, she rips her shirt over her head, tossing it somewhere else and continuing on the entanglement you were creating with her, unsnapping her bra and letting it chase her shirt to else where.

Now shirtless with you, chests pressing up against each other, she takes charge. Leading you to the “crooked” bed and pushing you down onto the sheets, playfully.

“Finally,” she breathes, unbuttoning her shorts and letting them fall to the floor and kicking them out of the way.

“I’ve been thinking about this since I saw you this morning. And when you carried me over the threshold?” clenching her entire body at the memory, a familiar shutter cascades through her body.

“I never wanted you more than in that moment…except for maybe right now.”

Watching as she relaxes again, her hands on either side of you, and she’s making half lidded eye contact with you when she brings a hand down your stomach, ghosting it over your underwear and reminding your body of what it was feeling earlier.

Leaning down to kiss you again, she’s intensifying her touch on you. Rubbing your clit through the now damp fabric of your underwear and letting you moan and whine into her mouth. The touch is fueling every fire you’ve felt in the last 12 hours.

“Fuck…Nayeon” whined into her mouth as she pulls your panties to the side, drenching her finger in your slick, coasting it up and down your slit while you match her movements with your hips.

She spends a moment kissing and toying with your chest, flicking your nipples with her tongue, lightly grazing her teeth over them. She slithers back up to your face and kisses you again.

“Finally touching you after a long day of wanting to feel you like this…” bringing her hand up to lick your essence off her long digits.

“To taste you like this…” bringing her lips down to yours, kissing you deeply and letting your own taste linger on your tongue.

Usually being the one that maintains composure, you were finding it difficult to keep the pace steady, after all the “almost” moments earlier today, you were having thoughts of just flipping her over and doing all the work.

Intense bodily reactions that are out of your control fling you into desperation, body begging for more of her touch, and gripping her harder to make sure she knows what you want, though it was obvious, your body language gave you away.

The rocking of your hips, the repressed moans, the less than pure lust that burned you from the inside were shinning through every single motion you made.

Nayeon noticed.

Her teeth graze your ear before she descended down your body with small bites, intentional swipes of her tongue and soft sweet pecks in between.

It wasn’t long before your ass was hanging off the edge of the bed and she was on her knees between your legs.

Without even looking at her, you can feel the smirk she has as she tugs on the elastic that was holding what was in her way up, and removes it - almost ripping it in the process.

“Damn, baby. You look so fucking good like this.” running her thumb up and over your clit a few times, teasing your entrance with every few passes.

Brain glitching under her touch, the cravings were too strong and you were too addicted to contain yourself any longer. Thrusting your hips down on her next tease of your entrance, her thumb slips inside you causing a guttural moan to leave your throat.

“Someone is eager.” giggled at you before removing her thumb, licking your slick off of it.

Whining in protest, you are about to beg for her when you feel it. The warmth of her tongue, starting at the bottom of your entrance and snaking its way up your folds and over your clit before latching onto it.

“Nayeon, ple- ooooh fuck!” hissed out in pleasure, hands flying up to the back of her head, wrapping her hair up in your hands and holding it into a makeshift ponytail as her tongue made work of you.

A delicate dance that she was more than good at, teasing and flicking at your sensitive bud before finally starting the pattern that she knew was what was going to keep you right where she needed you.

Sucking and smacking while she whirled her tongue in tightknit circles around your clit, completely focused on the way your back was arching, body twitching underneath her, and the sounds you were making for her.

Moaning her name, the breathy “oh fucks”, and the unprovoked “please please please” always made a mess of her underwear. She loved to hear you in this way, loved to have you in such a vulnerably delicious position to which she could bring you every ounce of pleasure you could ever want.

The build up ensues, the tightly woven tension in your core was stacking like tetris on the want that had been taunting you all day. Deep, primal yearning for your partner was all consuming and it was apparent that the feeling was mutual.

That’s when you feel it, her long pointer finger teasing your entrance, waiting for you to do exactly what Nayeon knew you would. Thrusting your hips down onto her finger and grinding onto it, doing the work for her while she quickened the pace of her circular movements on your clit.

The vibration of her chuckling with her mouth still attached to you was excruciating. Giggling at your neediness only made the desperation worse, vibrating and stimulating the very sensitive bud causing the pot to boil over, burning the coil that threatened to snap at any moment.

“Baby…oh fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum” pulling her head closer to you and grinding harder down on her finger.

Nayeon smiles, curling her finger up one, two, three times and then rips herself away from you.

Completely dismantling everything she just built, ruining the orgasm and sending you into a spiral of desperation and anger.

“Fuck, WHY would you do THAT?!” panting out furiously as you sit up on your elbows so you can glare at the cheeky smile she’s got plastered on her face.

Rolling your eyes and slamming yourself back down on the mattress, you hear the sound of leather sliding across the wooden nightstand. Nayeon stands, stepping into the harness of the all too familiar strap-on that was very present on nights like this.

The actual strap was different than your usual one, noting that the rings were more angular, the color of the leather was slightly darker, and you couldn’t help but notice the new attachment that was fixed to the strap that would go between Nayeon’s legs.

Slipping it inside herself with ease, a whimper leaving her lips while she buckled herself in and prepared for what was to come.

Feeling yourself drip in anticipation, the pooling of slick underneath you was rapidly growing out of control as Nayeon tugged your hips closer to the edge of the bed.

You could feel the tip of the familiar toy pressing against your folds as she leaned down and softly bit your chest. Shivers of anticipation radiated through your bones as you patiently waited for her to make the initial thrust that would turn into you becoming undone underneath her.

Breathing picking up for both of you, the tension so thick between you that every touch from her felt like jolts of static electricity that had the power of lightening.

“Baby…” unable to wait anymore, you had thought about her this way all day, on top of you with that half lidded smirk.

“Please.” Cupping her face, bringing her closer to you while lifting your legs up and wrapping them around her hips.

Taking the hint, she eases her hips forward, sinking her strap into you painstakingly slow, inch by inch until she was completely bottomed out inside you.

Moaning into her mouth as you continue to passionately make out, she takes it slow with you. Sensually rocking her hips gently and letting her hands wander your body while your tongues explored each others mouths.

Hardly any words shared at all, the moment too intense, and all too intimate to even think of exchanging witty banter. Hushed moans and whines filling the minimal space between the you and her, mixed in with the pure pleasure and the eager pants from Nayeon.

Bliss drapes your body with each thrust Nayeon made, you gave a small gasp at each stroke she laid into you. Paired with her own sounds of pleasure, you were consumed by her.

“I’m gonna cum…fuck” whispered to her with intense eye contact that has her breath hitching. Her thrusts speed up, a steady crescendo building up higher and higher in both of you until finally hit the point of pure ecstasy.

Your vision blurs as your body trembles, moans escaping your throat in rapid succession. Drenched in ecstasy, you twitch and buck your hips, riding out the waves of your intense orgasm.

Nayeon glistens with a thin sheen of sweat as she maintains her rhythm. Despite your body clenching around the strap, making it challenging for her to continue, she perseveres undeterred, chasing her own pleasure while overstimulating you.

A stream of passionate words accompanies the matching sounds as you both murmur intensely to each other. Nayeon grasps your hands, pinning them above your head, her hips snapping faster and faster.

Watching her closely through your post orgasm haze, you observe her brows furrowing—a sign she's nearing her peak.

As her rhythm falters, you seize the moment. Using your legs, you swiftly roll her over, positioning yourself on top of her.

Grinding down on the strap, now building another orgasm as it rubs against all the right spots, you can feel her body tensing under you.

“Cum for me, baby. I know how much you wanting this all day.” Sultry tone sensually whispered to her as you begin to slam yourself down on her, letting the attachment do the work.

Her eyes roll back, body tensed, back arched as she releases- a mess created on the sheets. Her whimpers loud, hands grasping at you, trying to tug you closer to her and successfully doing so.

Her nails dig into your hips as she guides you up and down on her, mouths connecting, your hand crawling up to weave into her hair.

“Oh fuck…feels so fucking good” breathed against her lips, her hands snake under your thighs, stopping you from riding her.

Thrusting up into you, holding you up while you drape your body over hers, allowing yourself to untether and get lost in the moment.

“Give me one more, honey. I know you want to.” Followed by a few bites to your neck.

The want in her words were enough to send you over the edge once more. She wraps her arms around you, holding you into place while continuing to trust up into you, creating a plethora of sounds that would put any adult film to shame.

Slowly coming down, you bury your face in her neck and smile into her.

“Ugh that was so worth the wait.” huffed into her skin as she draws little pictures with her nails on your back, writing words like “I love you” and your name and her name with hearts.

“Are you writing poetry on my back?” quizzically asked with a hint of sleepiness as you sit up on her.

“I don’t need to write poetry on what already is poetry, my love.” sitting up to deeply kiss you and hug you, all while the strap is still inside you.

Standing up to go and grab another set of sheets, Nayeon takes a moment to clean the strap in the bathroom, dry it off, and put it back in the drawer.

Returning to the bed, you pull the sheets off, walking through your house to place them in the washer and flick it on before you return to the room.

Nayeon and you make the bed together, changing the pillow cases so they match the new sheets you just placed on them.

“Do you want to take a quick shower with me?” after finally placing the comforter on the bed.

Nayeon walks over to you, putting her arms around your waist and kissing you again.

“Absolutely” leading you to the bathroom so you can wash up together.

Turning to her after she turns the shower on, you smirk at her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she scoffs, pulling out some towels from the linen closet for you both to use.

“I just love you…also, I think the bed IS crooked…at least it is now…” giggling at her.

Nayeon just glares at you, you can almost see her eye twitch with rage when she finally exclaims:

“SEE, I TOLD YOU IT WAS CROOKED!”

[lovebugism]

blurbcember request! : missing their loved ones when everyone else spends time with theirs w either Steve or Eddie x reader <3

thank u for requesting angel!! — you spend the holidays with the munsons after losing everything at the battle of starcourt (established relationship, hurt/comfort, tw for mentions of grief and panic attacks, 1.5k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

It hits you out of nowhere. The weight of unimaginable grief.

You’re on Eddie’s couch one moment, laughing into the hot cocoa he made you — and the next, it’s 1985 and you’re at Starcourt all over again. 

You can smell the ash as the mall burns to the ground and feel the evening mist soak your skin until your clothes stick to you. Your throat burns with the ghost of the scream you let out when the soldiers told you your dad died. 

You didn’t react. Not at first. You figured it must’ve been a mistake. That’s what you told them — you’re wrong, you’re wrong, you’re wrong. You repeated those words until they turned to sobs. 

Steve took you in his arms before you fell to the ground. Then you screamed. You don’t think you stopped screaming until your body shut down from the exhaustion.

You feel like that all over again. Five months later and you haven’t stopped reliving it.

Eddie knows. He can see all of it. You’re as bright as sunshine one second, then as grey as rain the next. He doesn’t know the extent of what happened to you — what really happened to your father or why you were at Starcourt in the first place — but he can tell it did a number on you.

He tries hopelessly to make it better. “You alright?” he mutters to you. His arm around your shoulder tightens to keep you from straying any further. His ringed fingers squeeze gently at your arm, and you remember where you are. 

You blink until the haze fades and nod on instinct. It’s muscle memory now. What could he do if you were honest? you wonder to yourself. What would it change?

“Is it the hot cocoa?” he asks, even though he knows that’s not really the problem. He wants to bring the light back to your eyes, maybe, or just get you to talk at all. “I made it with water this time instead of milk. Do you want me to—”

“No. It’s okay,” you interject quickly, voice meek and taut.

“Okay…” Eddie wavers and tries to settle back onto the couch. It’s hard to because he’s so tense now. He’s rigid with the knowledge that something’s wrong — with the heartache of not knowing how to help you.

You curse yourself when the tears come on.

They burn the very backs of your eyes, stinging like falling ash from burning flames. You can smell the smoking brick and the blood and the cologne of the Russian soldier that nearly killed you. You’re on Eddie’s couch, but you’re back there at the same time. 

You know you shouldn’t be crying, but you don’t know how to make yourself stop.

You blink hopelessly at the ceiling and pray that your blurry vision will clear before the tears spill over. Then you start to sniffle, and your emotion becomes rather obvious. You don’t want to cry. Not in front of everyone. Not in front of Eddie.

“Can I— uh— can I use your bathroom?” you stammer, trying to sound halfway normal even though the words come out coated with wet emotion. You’re looking ahead of you instead of over at Eddie — ‘cause you know he’d see right through you otherwise.

“Uh, yeah. Of course,” he answers, a little confused because you stopped having to ask a long time ago. 

He wants to ask you what’s wrong, but you’re gone before he can. His cold hands curl around his warming cocoa, fidgeting because they don’t know how to do anything but hold you.

You sit on the lid of the toilet seat and run the faucet while you cry. You bury your face in your palms, rocking back and forth in a feeble attempt to comfort yourself because you’re still learning how to do that on your own.

You’re so used to calling your dad the second something goes wrong. You don’t know who you’re supposed to lean on now. Eddie, maybe — but who are you to put that weight on him? He’d carry it no problem, but the burden shouldn’t be his. 

You just wish you knew where to put it, all this grief you have. 

For now, you bury it with the tears you pour into your palms. When you manage to coax yourself to stop crying and get your panicked breathing back to normal — in for 4 counts, hold for 7, out for 8 — you flush and wash your hands like you were doing anything but breaking down in Eddie’s bathroom.

You can’t get anything by him, though. Literally. ‘Cause you nearly run into him when you leave.

He’s idling awkwardly outside the door, looking almost as surprised to see you as you are to see him. Chocolate eyes wide, pink mouth softly agape, bushy brows raised beneath his curly bangs. “Shit— Sorry—” he stammers.

You sniffle and hope you don’t look like you’ve been crying too hard. “What are you— What are you doing?” you ask, voice weighed down with leftover emotion.

“Nothing. You just— you looked a little upset, and I wanted to check on you,” he shrugs, trying to play it cool. Then he gets awkward and cowers. “And I was gonna knock, but… then I got… nervous.”

You’d fake a laugh if you thought it wouldn’t take all the strength you have left. Instead, you shrug and pretend like everything’s still normal. Pretending is all you have now, anyway.

“I’m fine.”

He knows you’re lying. You always look down at your feet before you lie. Your eyes are swollen and glassy, too. You’re obviously everything but fine, but he doesn’t want to press the issue too much. He doesn’t want to make the unknown any worse.

So, in lieu of a thousand things he could say, he asks you — “Wanna smoke?”

You don’t smoke. He just doesn’t know how else to get you alone like he wants. 

You nod because you know he’s trying. 

His racing heart settles a little.

You end up on the edge of his childhood bed while he finishes off a joint. The scent is a comforting one — slightly skunky, but mostly of Eddie’s sweet cologne. He lies on his back while you sit above him, knees curled behind you with an arm beside you to prop up your weight. 

His chestnut curls are sprawled out along the plain grey sheets. His eyelids are heavy, gaze as dark as melted chocolate. His lips are rosy, and so are his cheeks after a couple hits. He looks a little like a Renaissance painting.

Eddie, meanwhile, is still stewing in his worry of you. He’s happy to sit in silence, though. Mostly because he knows you don’t mind it, either.

“How do you always know?” you blurt before you mean to.

He grows suddenly alert at your question. “Know what?”

You shrink inside yourself because you hadn’t meant to say that out loud. You were so deep in your thoughts you were practically drowning in them — swimming in oceans of grief and love and everything in between. 

You’re lucky you found Eddie when you did. Luckier ‘cause he always knows how to handle the mystically delicate being you are. You don’t know how he does it.

You stammer for an answer. “When I’m… I didn’t know… When I’m—”

“Sad?” Eddie finishes for you.

Both of you know it’s deeper than that, but you nod anyway. “Yeah…”

He shrugs lazily. “I don’t know… I just have a sense for it, I guess.”

“Like Spiderman?” you tease softly, a quiet smile hinting at the corners of your lips. Your nails scratch gently at his scalp. He leans into your touch like a cat.

Eddie grins wider, happy to see you happy. “Exactly like Spiderman.”

“Wow… I can’t believe my boyfriend has superpowers.”

“Well, you better believe it, baby. ‘Cause I know every-thing that’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

Your hand stills and your eyes go wide. You don’t want Eddie in your head. It’s too messy in there. How will he still love you if he knows all the darkest parts of you?

“That’s a scary thought,” you say, trying your best to laugh it off. 

“Doesn’t have to be,” he assures in a voice so soft you could cry. His palm is warm as it rises to smooth across your jaw, ringed fingers calloused and gentle on your cheek. “It’s not easy for you to tell me what’s going on a lot of the time, right? So I gotta use my super cool mind-reading powers to take care of my girl, you know?”

You love him so much you could cry. You don’t want to cry, though. You’re far too happy for that. 

You don’t realize how big you’re smiling until Eddie smiles back at you. 

“See?” he singsongs to you with a pink grin on his lips. “Not so scary, huh?”

“You make everything not so scary,” you insist quietly, your smile even quieter. “Like a teddy bear.”

Eddie beams at your words. If he can make all the bad things he can’t see not so bad for you, he’ll wear the title of Teddy Bear with pride.

His arms curl around you in a flash, dragging you down to the mattress so he can wrap you in a smothering hug. You squeal a laugh into his shoulder. You forget to be sad.

[solarmorrigan]

39 + 95, ship of your choice

Fanfiction Trope Mashup: 39. Survival/Wilderness Fic + 95. Sleep Intimacy

Hello! So I'm going to be honest with you and say that survival/wilderness stories have always given me anxiety and I've never enjoyed reading them, so the closest I got in writing one was a camping fic. I know it's not the same, but hopefully this is alright <3 (ship of choice was Steddie)

-

You might not know it to look at him, but Eddie had been an outdoorsy kind of kid.

He’d loved playing outside (he’s still the king of finding cool sticks to use as wizard staffs) and he’d always looked forward to his and Wayne’s annual camping trips. Wayne had taught him a lot about surviving in the wilderness on those long weekends, and Eddie had looked at them as grand adventures.

Eventually, of course, Eddie had gained other interests, and Wayne’s hours at the plant had changed, and the camping trips had petered to a stop. Eddie looks on the memories fondly, but doesn’t necessarily feel the need to go back and relive them (particularly not after the days he spent roughing it during the spring break from Hell). He’s happy to leave the outdoorsy activities to Steve these days. Steve loves going hiking, loves swimming, doesn’t even mind doing yardwork; he’s the one people would look at and assume he’d spent his childhood outdoors, except–

“You’ve never been camping?” Eddie asks, sitting up to look down at Steve where he’s squished in beside Eddie on a pool lounger that is absolutely not meant to fit two people.

Steve shrugs. “I always wanted to go, used to ask my dad a lot, and he used to promise he’d take me when he could get the time off of work,” he says. “I think he got pretty fed up with my asking, though, so I just kinda… stopped.”

Well, damn, if that doesn’t poke at a soft spot in Eddie’s hardened little heart.

“We could go,” Eddie blurts.

Steve blinks up at him. “What?”

“Me and Wayne used to go camping every year. I remember a lot of how it’s done, so… you and I could go,” Eddie offers. “If you want.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, a smile blooming across his face.

Eddie can’t help his answering smile. “Shit, yeah. Let’s go.”

If it makes Steve this happy, Eddie thinks in between Steve’s excited little kisses of thanks, then even if it goes terribly, Eddie won’t regret offering.

It takes a little bit to finagle their schedules and get time off together, but they manage it on the first nice weekend in spring. They pack Steve’s car up with a tent and sleeping bags and provisions and everything else Eddie can remember them needing (and a few things Wayne helpfully reminds him of), and they set off on their adventure.

The weekend starts off well. They set up the tent with minimal swearing, and manage to get a fire going, and explore the trails surrounding their camp, and spend the first night looking at the stars that shine brighter here than they do over Hawkins, and it’s nice.

It’s nice right up until Midwestern weather rears its unpredictable head while Eddie and Steve are out hiking on Saturday afternoon. The clouds roll in fast, rain-scented wind kicking up and shaking the limbs of the trees above them; they turn around to head back to camp, but they aren’t quick enough to beat the incoming rainstorm.

They’re soaked by the time they reach the tent, running and spluttering and laughing breathlessly, zipping the flap shut behind them and shucking their wet clothes before they can drip all over everything. They leave them in a heap off to the side, hopefully to be line-dried later, and do their best to dry off in the confined space.

“Gonna be hard to warm up without the fire,” Steve comments as he tries to scrub the rainwater out of his hair.

The weather has been nice, but not so nice that standing around damp and in their underwear is particularly comfortable. Even in the close space of the tent, the air isn’t warm, and Eddie eyes the goosebumps texturing the bare expanse of Steve’s tanned skin.

“I have an idea,” Eddie says, and Steve looks up at him expectantly. “C’mere.”

Eddie nods to the little nest they’d made the previous night by zipping two sleeping bags together and covering it with a couple of extra blankets. They don’t bother with dry clothes – isn’t skin-to-skin contact better for warming up, after all? Eddie slides in first and Steve joins him, immediately pressing the line of his body up against Eddie’s, curling an arm around his waist, tangling their legs, and resting his cheek against Eddie’s chest. Eddie tucks the blankets up a little closer around the both of them and settles down, wrapping both arms around Steve’s back.

“How’s this?” he asks.

He can feel Steve’s contented sigh as much as he can hear it, and Steve wiggles a little against Eddie’s front, as if there’s any space left between them to eliminate.

“This is good,” Steve says softly.

And it is, Eddie decides. He presses a kiss to the top of Steve’s head, where the earthy smell of the rain lingers, underscored by the faint, familiar scent of Steve’s shampoo. Rain continues to patter against the roof of their tent, and the soft, dim afternoon light does nothing to discourage either of them from beginning to drift.

If it can always be like this, Eddie doesn’t think he’d mind making camping an annual thing again. He wouldn’t mind at all.

[pedrithink]

changes ✩ mason mount

about: mason joined manchester united and with all this hate, fans think that you should break up with him.

face claim: martyna balsam

ynusername has added to their story

ynusername has added to their story

ynusername

Liked by masonmount, trentarnold66, and 178.972 others

ynusername enjoying :)

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masonmount i love you, you’re my everything.

ynusername @masonmount love u, babs.

user1 yn u’re so beautiful omg

user2 yn dump on mason he doesn’t deserve you

user3 mason is a fckn cheater

user4 mason is 🐍

user5 you deserve more

user6 u will always be the chelsea’s princess 🥺

masonmount

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masonmount summer 😎

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user7 bullshit.

user8 for my life i wasn’t even thinking that mason will be left one day

user9 @user8 he’s a 🐍🐍🐍

user10 mason mount is a traitor 😒 a snake was in the club...true blue will not join our rivals.

user11 he has chosen to leave his club, the traitor route, and he will be treated accordingly 🤷🏻‍♀️

user12 you people slandered this guy for many years. why are you now calling him a traitor for leaving?

user13 @user12 because he’s leaving to join our rival, he’s a traitor!!!!!!

user14 mason to man united might be the biggest chelsea transfer betrayal of all time. traitor.

ynusername has added to their story

ynusername has added to their story

ynusername

Liked by masonmount, marcusrashford, and 557.346 others

ynusername what a crazy day, my boy. i will always wish you the best and be by your side at all times and in all places. "the boy who had a dream", i love you tirelessly and uncontrollably. good luck in this new journey and may it be another successful step for your life. i will never let go of your hand. 🤍🫧🫶🏻

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masonmount it will be another successful step for OUR* life, thank you for always sticking with me. ❤️‍🩹 i love you, baby.

ynusername @masonmount 🩷

user15 im so happy that u were there for him :(

user16 @user7 fr, im so relived rn!!!!

user17 forever a blues. thanks for everything mase 💙

user18 mason is so lucky to have you :((( ty for supporting him!!!!

[gluion]

finger trapped (ripped to its seams) ➵ ji changmin

ji changmin x reader

with an unexpected reunion, you and changmin relive the memories of cheongju—and confront what could’ve been between you two.

general genre/warnings ➵ friends to almost lovers, angst, fluff, gender neutral reader, some depressive and insecure thoughts, hurt/comfort, the last five years story-telling method (aka present will be told going backwards while past will be told moving forward... i hope that makes sense), brief mention of blood from picking on your skin, tiger parents so... parental issues, unexpected reunion, keeping secrets & lying, jealousy remains but love triumphs, journalist reader (u kno i had to do it), reader is a nerd and changmin is a student-athlete, kms jokes from jongseob (all /lh), finger traps aren’t efficient after all

word count ➵ 15.7k words

playlist ➵ end of beginning by djo // high school in jakarta by niki // i know it won't work by gracie abrams // no big deal (i love you) by dodie // keeping tabs by niki // no one knows by stephen sanchez & laufey // so what now by reneé rapp // i wish i hated you by ariana grande // the 1 by taylor swift // seasons by wave to earth

a/n ➵ it's finally out! this is my submission for @deoboyznet's the love letter collective event! this work is so so personal to me on so many levels so i hope you all love and treat this fic with care :')) for the bitches who struggle with parents and dreams.... this one's for you (i am in the same boat) i appreciate everyone who's been so patient and looking forward to this fic's release. i'd like to thank @hcuyk for being a betareader for this fic! i also want to dedicate this one to @sungbeam and @wavesmp3 <3 your works inspire me so much and i think this fic is a product of how much they've influence me. hanbin's version is now available! please don't forget to reblog and leave feedback!!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

present -> three weeks after the interview, 2024

the newsroom never sleeps. the rings of landlines and clacks of keyboards bounce off the four walls. through light bulbs or sunshine, light continues to remain. and at every corner, a journalist stands—ready to enter the depths of slumber but remain on their toes as they await for an update on their unraveling story.

but the newsroom is rarely busy unless there’s a major nationwide event, election season or the super bowl to name a few, for most journalists are out to discover what the world has to offer.

knowledge doesn’t only come from the chitchat of your coworkers. it’s only on the field that you’ll hear of hearsay and testimonies. after all, the choice to probe rests on your shoulders.

“there’s a typo over there.”

“huh? where?”

“over here,” you mumble as your finger darts to point at a section on the screen. “it’s supposed to say “in their climactic performance on road to kingdom,” not climatic.”

“ah, i see it now. sorry about that,” lee jihoon of digital development says as he corrects the error. his hair is disheveled from the hood that once perched on his head during the night he spent in the newsroom. you would’ve scolded the guy—go home and take a shower before you stink up the place—but you are no better, grouped with the other journalists who stayed up in the office.

“there we go. should be all good. now, are you ready to go through the profiles?”

an exhausted chuckle departs from your lips. “yeah, let’s go—”

“what’s the update?” life and arts editor kim namjoon—your editor—comes to you with a smile.

the grey hoodie he wears paired with comfortable jeans shows that he’s a little relaxed. for once, you don’t see him on his phone, battling the deadlines or getting pitched stories by the other editors. it’s a nice sight but one that won’t last for long.  

“we just finished going through the article about the group, so we still have yet to go through the profiles.” jihoon then looks at you. “i can’t believe you basically wrote 12 articles. like, 11 profiles and one main article is a lot. you didn’t want to work on it with anyone else?”

once namjoon stands beside you, you bump your shoulder against his figure. “i didn’t have a choice, did i?” it’s a rhetorical question but one your editor still chooses to answer.

“unfortunately, we’re understaffed, but it seemed like you got the hang of it. i wouldn’t have trusted anyone else to do it.” namjoon shoots you a smile before redirecting his attention back to jihoon. “and as much as i’d love to tell y/n more, we have to pick up the pace.” without any further questions, the three of you resume with work. 

there’s no time to waste in the journalism industry. still, his praise doesn’t go unnoticed. 

one article turned into eight done in a matter of 30 minutes, all with the help of three pairs of eyes to go through them. (namjoon seemed to carry the heavy lifting. after all, the guy was trained to be quick in reading and spotting errors.)

it should’ve been easy to keep up with your editor for all the other articles; you know each profile like the back of your hand.

then, the face of a boy who you once knew sits on the screen.

his gaze seems to pierce through your soul, almost in the same way you last talked to him. the loose ends of composure slip through your fingers; your breath’s stuck in your throat as the hammering of your heart fills your ears. yet, he stands still on the monitor.

as your eyes drift through the passages you’ve written, every sound is drowned out. the voice of your editor fades like the everchanging seasons and the clicks of the keyboard resemble the sobs you let out in the comfort of your childhood room.

and suddenly, the hands of the clock have turned all the way back to 2014. the cubicles transformed into aisles of chips and instant ramen, and you hear mr. kim’s voice in the distance—i have some hotteok! fresh from the pan! but amidst it all, you hear the giggles of the boy, your best friend, as he rushes towards you—i’ll go audition and make you proud. as your arm is wrapped with the heat of his fingers, you almost believe that your life as a journalist is nothing but a dream—

“i knew him.” the illusion disappears within a blink of an eye. namjoon’s eyes snap towards you and jihoon stops scrolling through the website. “we went to the same high school.”

you aren’t sure why you revealed that to your coworkers, let alone your boss. it’s an old memory—your weight to carry. before you can apologize for disrupting their work, namjoon’s hand rests on your shoulder, his thumb drawing shapes into it. when you look over at him, you’re greeted by his smile. it resembles your bed after a long day of work or a slow day at the newsroom.

but it never lives up to him, whose giggles resemble nature’s symphonies. the two shots of espresso you need at the start of the day once came in the form of his warm embrace. most of all, his smile is enough to illuminate the world even through the strongest storms and times when power went out.

for the remaining articles, not a single word leaves you. before you know it, all 12 articles were ready to go up on the web.

“that’s all of it. should i still schedule them to go up around 12 p.m.?” jihoon notes as he saves the drafts.

“yeah, 12 p.m. still sounds good. thanks a lot.” namjoon nudges his shoulder before looking over to you. “let’s talk in my office.”

you don’t question his orders. once namjoon takes off, you follow him all the way to his office. as he swings the door open, you are met with the familiar sight of his workspace. hues of green and brown mix, where nature and art meet within the space of corporate.

once namjoon takes a seat on his chair, you find your spot across from him. his eyes stare off to the window. for a moment, you’re not sure what to expect from this impromptu meeting.

seconds pass and not a single word has been said—

“this place’s always alive,” your editor breaks the silence. “don’t you think so?”

you follow his line of sight. busy seoul never changes; the skyscrapers pollute the sky and the people never sleep, off to work or off to party.

“where’d you grow up again?”

you look back at namjoon whose eyes still remain locked on the city. “cheongju.”

he hums. “i haven’t been there. nice place?”

“yeah, but i haven’t gone back in a while.”

“when was the last time?” his eyes finally meet yours.

your teeth grasp the inside of your cheek. “2014, since i first left,” you admit. 

“do you miss it?”

you’re not sure how to answer. the pavements you’ve scraped your knees against and the walls your laughs bounced off of—do you miss them all? or is the reason behind your laughter and scabs the one you long for?

“is that why you were hesitant about interviewing them?” namjoon’s thumbs fiddle with each other. “because of your history with him?”

now, you stare at your linked hands. maybe the silence from you is enough to answer his question but you know namjoon would never settle for a soundless answer.

“i—i’m not a good person. and even if i didn’t make the choice to leave, i—” you hold yourself back. your fingers start to pick on the skin around your thumbs, peeling it so blood can spill. 

“it’s okay, i understand. you don’t have to share it with me.” your eyes drift back to namjoon, spotting a small smile that rests on his face. “it must’ve been hard to relive it all.”

the bond you have with namjoon is one that you hold close to your heart. through his mentorship, you got to learn about what it means to be a writer. the fears of being a journalist would loom over you, where questions of salary and demanding work hours would occupy your mind, but namjoon became someone who would absolve them all. he became a pillar in your life, one that provides you hope and comfort within the industry.

“so, don’t feel pressured to talk about it. but if you ever want to open up about it, then i’ll be here.”

namjoon’s giving you an exit. are you willing to take it?

you cross your arms as you lean back into the chair. “you know how i was a science major then?”

“yeah, i remember looking over your resume. and then i saw that you were part of your university’s publication.”

your tongue pushes against the inside of your cheek. “i would’ve gotten some job in that field, like, i had it lined up for me.”

“really? like lab coat and all?”

as namjoon attempts to hold back his laugh over the image, you chuckle along. “yeah, lab coat and all! it’s crazy how my life was all set for that field, but i’m here now.” you look down at your arms. “i think just facing him in a completely different field that i once used to imagine with him was just strange. but i think hearing his answers really did it for me.”

namjoon nods at your words. “care to have lunch with me?” your eyes snap back to your editor. “i’m guessing you want to talk about it, after all.”

all you do is smile before getting off your seat.

spring of 2014

the season of spring has graced cheongju; the sun gleams in the expanse of blue and birds perched on tree branches sing their songs. it’s the perfect season to embrace the wonders of the town.

while it would be a delight to bask under the returning warmth, you’re stuck within the walls of the classroom, head resting on crossed arms. 

still, the lilacs have yet to bloom.

“y/n.” you quickly sit up before your eyes settle on your adviser, ms. jeon, who stands in front of the classroom. “let’s take attendance.”

with that, you’re beside her as you call out each name on the class list. it’s a quick process of saying your classmates’ names for them to respond in variations of “present,” until you reach the section of last names that start with a ‘j’.

“ji changmin.” no response.

you rip your eyes off the piece of paper, only met with your classmates who either look at each other in confusion or spaced out in their own worlds.

“ji changmin?” when you’re met with the same reaction, you’re ready to mark the student absent—

“sorry!” the doors slam open. a boy clad in a white polo and jogging pants is panting by the entrance, covered in sweat as he rests on the edge of it. “sorry, i’m late.”

“oh, it’s okay! you arrived just in time.” ms. jeon smiles at the tardy student. as you watch him take a seat, his eyes lock with yours, but your adviser nudges you before saying, “y/n, proceed.”  

ji changmin made his name a few years back at a competition. the applause and roars from the crowd marked his spot in the school. others describe his movement as of cranes, standing in the middle of a pond as they do their best to minimize forming any ripples, or of elephants, swaying their trunks with control like no other.

but he’s a versatile dancer; nothing can truly capture him.

once you’ve finished marking the attendance, you go back to your seat. you’re ready to start the day with no bother but you can’t shake the feeling of being watched.

“now, you can see in these,” your art teacher, ms. park, points to the screen showcasing works from her favorite contemporary artists like kwon yongju and félix gonzález-torres, “that there are no borders to what constitutes art. and that’s not wrong because we have to recognize that art comes in different forms as we progress, from traditional painting and sculptures to digital ones.”

this field isn't your strong suit. with a greater understanding of the sciences, you struggle to create anything that could be on par with the works of any artist. yet, you enjoyed learning about every piece that your teacher shared, like unfolding and admiring something you know you can never replicate or create. still, the universe decides that they have other plans for you.

“as i mentioned before, i’ll be giving you time to work on your final assessment, which is to create an artwork for the class exhibit. for this deliverable, i’m asking that your work will be a collaborative one, meaning you aren’t working alone.” in a sea of chatter, some groans exit your classmates. “remember, inspiration doesn’t come from your own bubble! take this as your opportunity to create something that you’ve never imagined.”

within a split second, students are off their seats as they attempt to find a partner to work with. you, however, were struggling to think of who you could team up with. admittedly, you have a very different work style compared to others—even cheng xiao, aspiring valedictorian, didn’t enjoy working with you. she turned every activity into a competition against you. (you didn’t enjoy her, either.) while you’re considering shamefully going up to your classmates like a stray dog looking for anyone willing to care for them—

“hi!” in front of you stands the tardy student of today, all smiles as his hands find comfort in the pockets of his jogging pants. “do you have a partner already?”

with furrowed eyebrows, you can’t help but look him up and down. “no, why?”

“well,” changmin looks around the classroom, “everyone seems to have paired up except for us.” as his eyes drift back to you, he flashes you a smile, one that shows the dips engraved into his cheeks. “which leaves me to ask if you would like to work with me for this.”

you don’t have a choice. ms. park would never bend the rules for you. if anything, she would find a way to pair you with another student who would dread the idea of working with you. (“i’m sure they won’t mind being partners with you, right?” is what she would ask the poor student, only to be met with their retreat.)

“unless we accept a failing mark, which i’m sure we both don’t want.” it’s not like changmin had a choice as well.

“okay.” with one word, light fills his eyes, enough to resemble the starlight that grazes your skin every night. “we can meet and discuss our schedules, especially because i’ve got ap stat, and you have, uhm,” a cough leaves you, “training, i’m assuming, or rehearsals. i don’t really know what you call them.”

his eyebrows shoot up as his mouth parts open. “o—oh, yeah. i usually have training after class until 8 p.m. on tuesdays, thursdays, and saturdays.”

“same. my classes are until 7 p.m. on tuesdays and thursdays, so maybe we can use the other days to work together?”

with one nod from him, his dimples reappear. “great! i’ll see you tomorrow.”

before you know it, everyone finds their way back to their seats for ms. park’s final reminders. you do your best to pay attention to every announcement, jotting down every word on your planner and planning out your agenda for the upcoming weeks. yet, your eyes seem to have a mind of their own as they drift back to the boy who discreetly passes notes to kim donghan, another dancer on the team, all while listening to the teacher.

you don’t notice how long you spend staring at changmin until he turns to meet your gaze. in that split second, you look at each other—then, embarrassment washes over you. you shift your attention back to ms. park. as you drum your fingers against the desk, mentally kicking yourself over the interaction, you still can’t shake the feeling of being watched.

you look back at changmin; he’s still looking at you.

his dimples make their reappearance before he looks back at ms. park. you do the same as you attempt to listen to her ramble about banksy’s works. 

(you’re still thinking about the dips in his cheeks.)

the first time you get to meet with changmin for the project happens the following week. you two had different commitments to attend to, whether it be other projects or training. and while you would usually settle to meet in the school library or a cafe nearby, you find yourself inside the empty gymnasium, sitting on bleachers while your partner stands in front of mirrors.

“don’t you think it would be nice to combine our hobbies together?”

your pencil taps against the notebook. “like, your dancing? with what?”

“whatever you like to do!” once he makes his way to you, he leans on the row in front of you with crossed arms. “i mean, do you have anything you like to do during your free time?”

a scoff leaves you. “funny of you to assume that i have free time.”

“what’s your schedule like?”

“well, i have our classes and ap ones, then kumon at night.”

changmin reels at the thought of your schedule. “that’s brutal. the last time i had kumon was back in grade 4.”

“yeah, but i’m sure yours is busy as well. the amount of time that you put into training is…” his eyes are wide, hanging on your words. it’s the hope they hold that has you say, “admirable.”

a shy smile takes over his features. “yeah, but it’s only because my family is supportive of what i do.”

then, limbs whose color resembles the void slither their way to your heart, wrapping around it while the organ struggles to beat; it’s a slow process but an unending hole that will birth from it. yet, you do your best to fight off these limbs, unraveling them one by one in hopes it will give up—until you settle for shaking them off.

you only muster out a hum.

“do you have anything you like to do during those short breaks?”

your lips trill. “i don’t know. watch something on youtube?”

his cheeks puff up, stuck in his thoughts as he tries to navigate this project—and you—until his eyes glint. “what do you do when you want to vent?”

“you sure have a lot of questions,” you comment, trying to hold back a chuckle at his curiosity. “i can just adjust to you. maybe attempt to draw, picture, or even film you.”

his eyebrows furrow. “but that wouldn’t make it collaborative. i want us to work on something that aligns with what we do.”

a beat passes.

he holds your gaze. “i want us to create something that shows us.”

inside you, a gong is struck; its sound reverberates throughout your body, from the crown of your forehead to the tips of your toes. then, silence seeps in—a moment only for you and him.

“i, uh, write,” you whisper as your eyes shift to the notebook resting on your lap.

“really? like, stories and poetry?”

you nod. “i like writing people’s stories more, but i do like making ones.” when you look back at changmin, his eyes are still filled with curiosity. “i would, like, find interviews online and try to make my own, sort of, uhm—god this is embarrassing. forget about it.”

“huh? no, it isn’t!” he attempts to reassure your shrunken figure. “i mean, you don’t have to share more if you really don’t want to, but i’d like to hear more about it.” and when his dimples appear, you almost can’t help but feel your face warm up.

“i’d make articles, i guess?” he nods along with your words. “i don’t know, it’s just interesting to hear about people’s lives and kind of create something out of it, and i like thinking about all the possibilities of who would love to hear them. like, don’t you think that some of the stories that we read hold fragments of someone?”

“that’s an interesting way to look at it.”

as you doodle on your notebook, you say, “yeah, it’s just fun to hear these stories and maybe create something out of it. or even think of stories that i could never live out, you know?” you expect yourself to be met with the bored face of changmin but his eyes remain on you.

“what if you interview me?”

your eyebrows shoot up. “you?”

“yeah,” he stands up before walking up to your row, finding a spot beside you. “think of me as your first interviewee if you want.”

the sudden suggestion has you stumbling over your words. “huh? b—but, i don’t have questions prepared. and how does this help our project?” 

when his arms brush against yours, you start to become aware of the distance between your shoulders—and his face from yours. warmth spreads throughout your body, almost like you’re about to have a fever. once his open hand rests near yours, you don’t know what he’s asking.

“let me draw it out for you.” you hand him your pencil and notebook, allowing him to see your doodles. (you don’t miss his grin.) “you know, with that article you make, we can cut it up and create something out of it.” a roughly drawn sketch of a boy posed in the middle of a dance move now rests on the page. “i don’t know if a collage would be okay.”

as you think about what can be done, you perch your chin on your palm. “we can do papercut art? basically, it’s cutting up the article in a way to form an image.”

“oh, that sounds cool!”

“yeah, but the only challenge is that we can only use one piece of paper.” a sigh leaves you. “it would be impossible for me to even do that.”

“that’s why you have me.” his small smile causes wind chimes to ring. (you’re positive you heard them, even if there were no such things in the gymnasium.)

he continues to sketch out the layout of your joint artwork. “how do we feel about this?” on the paper, there are two boxes beside the figure, where one is labeled as “photo of me” while the other is labeled “an article by y/n.” your head tilts. “it’ll be a three-set piece. so, it’ll be a photo of me and your article, and in between is the papercut art that we’ll make.”

you hum. “you know, you’re very creative.” you look at him only to see that he’s been staring at you. “like, you’re inclined to the arts. i wouldn’t have been able to think of something like this.”

“you’re just as creative,” he argues back as he writes down something.

you shake your head before retorting, “changmin, you’re very talented. i’ve seen the way you dance,” his movements halt, “and you’re like no other dancer i’ve seen. if you ever try out to be an idol, i’m sure you’d do great, maybe end up on the list of the best dancers in the industry.”

but he shakes his head, going back to writing on your notebook and shutting down your compliments. you decide to not push.

“i can get the photo sometime during my training,” he says as he hands you your notebook.

“then i can have the questions sometime this week. for the article, i can have it done maybe four days after the interview. how does wednesday, after school, sound for the interview?”

he shoots you a smile before standing up from his seat. “that’s perfect! i’m looking forward to meeting journalist y/n.” you can’t help but scoff at what he calls you. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” you shake your head. “it’s just a silly name.” because the reality is that you had your future planned out—and it definitely didn’t involve that field.

he shrugs. “i don’t know, i think it would fit you.”

“but you haven’t read any of my works.”

“but i want to root for you in the same way you do for me. i don’t want you to feel ashamed of your works.” a fire ignites in your heart; it’s a fireplace.

you’re baffled that changmin, out of all people, now holds your secret, but you’re even astounded over the idea of him supporting you. you almost can’t remember the last time you heard such words of support. is it genuine or nothing but a facade?

“anyway, i’ve got to go. i need to catch up on some homework.” while you shoot him a nod, his dimples make their appearance once more. “i’ll see you tomorrow!” as he takes off, you’re left in the gymnasium with your opened notebook and unlocked heart. you look back down at his sketch surrounded by your doodles, but you don’t miss his little note—cute doodles btw <3

the season of spring has unfolded in cheongju; a single lilac has bloomed.

present -> a day before the interview, 2024

it’s a late night on a tuesday, about to be a midnight wednesday, and you’re in a convenience store as you scout for your dinner. all hauled up in the newsroom, the idea of ordering food during a time where restaurants would still be open slipped your mind. now, you’re left to scan through the same options you’ve eaten for the past years since you started living in seoul.

the convenience clerks are familiar with you, both kim jongseob and kim jiwoo. with your constant late-night meals at the store, you’d talk to whichever one had a shift. jongseob is saving up to upgrade his setup at home to record more music. with all the stories he shares about his time in underground rap battles along with the short verses he’s performed for you, you’re positive that he’ll get signed to a label soon. as for jiwoo, this is one of the many jobs she has in order to save enough money for fashion school. you’ve seen her sketches and outfits she’s put together and you’re hoping that she’ll get accepted.

a sigh leaves you. you didn’t have a problem with eating the food here but you were craving for something new in your life in seoul. the perpetual cycle of eating takeout food and unconsciously skipping meals for work needed to be disrupted just for a moment. but you weren’t seeking michelin-star food—all you wanted was something home cooked. something from home.

the spice of tteokbokki, the burn of freshly fried hotteok, and the sweetness of homemade peach iced tea—mr. kim’s convenience store had it all.

your tastebuds long for cheongju.

“planning to beat your record of spending 23 minutes on deciding what to get?”

you roll your eyes before looking to your right, seeing jongseob stock up the drinks in the fridge. “i hate you.”

“what? i’m just saying, you’re taking a lot longer to decide today.” he chuckles before placing the last bottle of sweetened probiotic milk in the fridge. “none of the options look good to you?”

“sort of,” you hum before you scan through the aisle of packaged meals. “i think i’m craving for something different.”

“i get it. the food here can get boring, which is why i’m planning to order pizza if you want to split the costs.”

your eyebrows shoot up at jongseob’s suggestion. “really? you’d share pizza with me?”

“yeah, as long as you pay for your share.” he shoots you a smile before grabbing on a trolley carrying empty boxes. “unless… you want to pay for the whole thing.”

you bite back a smile as you shake your head. you should’ve known the guy would ask you to buy him food, but you knew that he needed the money and you at least had a stable income to keep you comfortable. “fine,” jongseob’s smile grows as you fish out your wallet from your pocket and pull out a couple of bills. “just order enough for us two.” 

“of course,” he says as soon as you hand him some money. “i’ll make sure to order the most expensive thing on the menu.”

you scoff at his joke. “just make sure to treat me to something.”

the bell by the door chimes. “sorry, can’t hear you over that! need to attend to a customer!” jongseob dashes away from you while dragging the trolley. that little shit just knew how to press your buttons, but you love the kid, anyway.

still, you stand in the middle of the mart and your heart longs for home.

then, you shut your eyes, and you’re transported back in front of the familiar aisle filled with bags of potato chips and sweet corn. the noisy fan along with the soft sounds of mr. kim’s korean drama fills your ears. a mix of yellow and orange hues paint every corner of the mart, including you—and you’re not alone.

your best friend stands on your right, wearing the unbuttoned school uniform polo over a tank top along with jogging pants. he’s lost in thought as he scans through the options of snacks you two can have for today’s afternoon. he starts to giggle to himself, probably from a silly thought he’ll share with you in the next second or a memory involving you, and the dips in his cheeks appear—your heart thumps in your ears.

and just like how quickly you were transported back to cheongju, your surroundings transformed into the cool-lit convenience store found in seoul. all you have left is the image of him bathed in the sunlight.

but he fades away like the ink on old receipts, never gone, because the glowing image of him warps into a different version who stands next to you in the cold mart. he’s grown a few inches taller and his hair doesn’t get in the way of his line of sight. while he wears a green sweater, you notice that he’s gained some muscles. his eyes scan through the aisle behind you filled with different brands of instant ramen.

but he bites the inside of his cheek and his dimples appear.

it’s a tornado that brews within you, enough to uproot trees and displace buildings, all because of an unexpected reunion with changmin. why did the universe decide to bring two ex-best friends on a random tuesday night? what brings him to the convenience store at the same time you’re there? and why did it have to happen a day before the interview?

you weren’t going to commit the same mistake; keep your eyes off of him and make your way out of the store. it didn’t matter if you had an empty, growling stomach, or gave free money to jongseob. you need to leave without the distant, familiar face noticing.

your feet act fast, and you're almost certain that might’ve caught his attention, but it didn’t matter as you see jongseob standing behind the cashier with his phone out. “i just ordered the pizza. it should arrive in about… 20 to 30 minutes.”

“yeah, about that…”

“don’t tell me you’re taking your money back.”

at the sight of jongseob’s pout, you roll your eyes. “no, keep it. i just—i need to go.”

“what? why?”

you peek behind you. it seems like he didn’t recognize you, after all. “i’ve got… work!”

“but don’t you only have your interview with the bo—”

“hey!” your fingers snap at him. “you cannot—i mean, you just… just take the goddamn money.”

“but we’re supposed to share the pizza. you haven’t eaten.”

an exasperated sigh leaves you. “jongseob, just treat me next time. i can eat at home.”

and you’re ready to leave the convenience store, bid farewell to jongseob and a delicious pizza made for two, and never greet or say goodbye to the living fragment of what you last know of cheongju—

“y/n?”

and the plan failed.

when you meet his gaze, you’re able to take in the different version of him. he’s grown so much—it’s such a pain that you weren’t there to witness it. his eyes are a pool of emotions; you can’t identify them.

all it takes is one breath from you. “changmin.”

a beat passes.

“i’m just gonna… go through the storage,” jongseob points his thumb at the back of the mart, “and maybe kill myself afterwards. i don’t know.” before you can protest, he’s already gone. (and he still has your money. that fucker.)

you and changmin were once painted with the hues of the sun. this reunion is tainted with blue.

changmin’s fingers tense up, almost as if he was hesitating—debating—on how to approach you. his body would waver, but he never took a step towards you. “i… i wasn’t expecting to meet you here.” 

“same here.” you lean your back against the checkout counter. “d—do you stay around this part of the city?”

he shakes his head. “i live around 15, maybe 20, minutes away from here. i’m only here because…” your breath gets caught in your throat. “i don’t know.”

fate. that’s what brought us here.

“do you live here?”

you nod. “yeah, ever since—” the sentence never gets completed; you and him already know.

for a moment, sorrow flashes in his eyes, but a smile shows up. the dimples don’t appear. “i, uh, i was going to get something from here but it seems like your friend is busy.”

“sorry about jongseob.” you whip out your phone and scold him through text. “he should be with us in a bit.”

changmin hums before walking to the freezer filled with different ice cream. as he looks through the selection, he asks, “do you still like twin bar?”

“y—yeah.”

“still the grape flavor?” you don’t know what to say, but when his gaze meets yours, you settle for a nod. with your favorite ice cream in one hand and a sandwich in the other, he finally walks towards you. you don’t miss the slight stagger in his steps.

changmin finds his spot beside you. there’s still distance between you two—two tiles worth, enough space for one person—but it’s enough for your muscles to freeze. thankfully, jongseob comes just in time to manage the cashier (with an awkward smile plastered on).

he scans changmin’s item first before grabbing onto your ice cream.

“oh, i’m paying—”

“no, let me,” changmin insists. “you can always treat me another time.”

you bite the inside of your cheek, thinking over the second half of his sentence. jongseob holds back from scanning the item, until you shoot him a nod. changmin pays for the food before jongseob hands them to you.

“i’ll just let you know when the pizza gets here.” his small smile is enough for your shoulders to ease and a quiet exhale to leave. a small nod is all you give him.

you follow changmin outside to the tables in front of the mart. once he’s settled on a spot, you sit across from him. he tears away the plastic wrapping of his food while you play with the ends of yours. 

while he swallows what you assume to be his dinner of the day, you’re left to swallow your own pride.

“i’ve seen your performances.” his chews halt. “you’re—” captivating. “you’ve improved a lot.”  

with one gulp, a shy smile takes over his face. “i still have a long way to go.”

“you always say that, even back then.” a half bitten sandwich now rests on the wrapper. “but i admire your drive.” always have.

while a different version of changmin sits across you, the one you knew back in cheongju still lives. in the busy, unfamiliar expanse of seoul, meeting 10 years later, he’ll never be stranger. you could never treat him as such, even if you wanted to.

“there’s always room for improvement,” he says.

you hum along with his sentiment. “did you stick with early childhood education?” you’re met with his orbs that hold a thousand of emotions, some you can name as shock, confusion. a question hangs in the air—what did you deserve to know?

“sorry, i’m assuming you still went to college, which is totally fine if you did or didn’t, by the way. and it’s also okay if you didn’t stick to your major. i mean, you always talked about pursuing a performing arts degree before—”

“y/n,” he giggles, “you’re okay. i still went to college but i took media & communication.” your eyebrows shoot up at the revelation. “i thought it made sense to study something related to what i do, just the more technical and theoretical side of it, i guess. and the online classes were easy to squeeze into my schedule.” he lifts up the sandwich. “what about you?”

“uh, i ended up in the same course as well.” a hum of shock leaves changmin. “yeah,” you chuckle, “i managed to shift courses.”

“that’s amazing! i’m happy for you.”

you smile at him. “thanks. now, i’m just—” you should tell him what you do. what would be a better time to reveal that you ended up in the path he dreamed for you to be than now? “—figuring things out.”

with your vagueness, changmin only nods before munching away. if there’s anything about you that still remains, it’s that you shouldn’t be pushed to share something you didn’t want to talk about. he still knew that.

as he finishes his sandwich, you tear off the plastic wrapping of your ice cream. with the twin bar in your hands, you snap it into two before you hand him a piece. confusion paints his features, wide eyes glossing over the popsicle in your hand, but he takes it before you can say anything.

“thanks.”

you shake your head. “don’t even worry about it. it’s only tradition.”

silence settles between you two. as you eat away on your share of the twin bar, you look up to the sky. from where you sit, you can’t see a single star; the lights of seoul seemed to outshine them. and during those moments, you almost can’t help but miss the view of the starry night from your childhood room.

you glance at changmin who looks up to the sky as well. yet, one hand remains in his pocket, almost as if he’s fiddling with something. 

as if he feels your eyes on him, he asks, “did you ever think about coming back?”

you halt your movements. if there’s one thing you were expecting your old friend to ask, it would be related to your sudden departure. but you’re hit with an entirely different question, one you didn’t get to rehearse the answer to in case you ever cross paths with him. 

because after all this talk about your yearning for cheongju, why didn’t you choose to visit? despite how much you long mr. kim’s home cooked meals, skies filled with stars, or the presence of your best friend, why didn’t you ever come back?

if you miss home, why is your first instinct to run away from it?

and the reality is that you do think about it all the time. since you left cheongju, you drafted out how many plans to go back. you were homesick, missing the familiar landscape you spent your entire childhood growing up in. but most of all, you missed changmin. as long as you had him, you would survive anywhere, whether in seoul or cheongju.

despite how much you yearned for him during your years away, you learned that your relationship wasn’t always filled with the warmth that would grace you two every afternoon. for so long, you’ve sat with jealousy. while his family was his pillar of strength, you were met with a home that offered nothing but criticism.

the black limbs slowly ate away at your heart; the void was born.

it became easier to remain resentful. with the distance, you weren’t faced with changmin’s genuineness. yet, with time, you discovered that you still cared for him—regardless of your jealousy—because you still wanted more for him than you did for yourself.

for a long time, you resented. now, it’s only guilt that held you back from going back to him.

so when you remain silent, changmin takes it as your answer.

and for the first time, the distance feels greater since you first left cheongju.

summer of 2014

it’s the peak of summer. amidst the expanse of verdant fields, bees seek solace in the fully-bloomed sunflowers and kaleidoscope wings illuminate as they soar.

but summer is where mouths go dry and clothes cling to skin. as days blend with each other, the comfort of your bed is all you have until the season passes.

the fan rumbles against the wooden floor, doing its best to cool you, but the heat prickles against the back of your neck. the wind has turned into nothing but hot waves. with your elbows perched on the desk, a sigh leaves you as you attempt to make sense of the worksheet filled with math equations.

your room is your favorite place in cheongju. within these four walls are scattered fragments of you, from your favorite books and mangas that rest on the bookshelf to the stuffed toys that rest on your bed. book tabs stick out of your workbooks lined up on your desk and your cork board is filled with crossed out to-do lists.

and every once in a while, you would look out through your window, admiring the neighboring houses and all their greenery. as people walk on pavements, you cannot help but think about where they’re off to—are they on their way to work? did they leave an important document back home? or are they coming back to a meal and home filled with warmth?

despite the halo soundtrack filling your ears, the cogs in your brain seem to drown them out. the numbers on your paper have jumbled up. it should’ve been easy. after all, you’ve become friends with the letters who’ve squeezed their way into math. once you’ve wrapped up on this assignment, you know you’ll wake up to another set of work to do. it didn’t help that you’re stuck watching kids your age enjoy their break.

with a tired mind, you consider making yourself another cup of iced coffee. maybe another dose of caffeine will make sense of the numbers—

your phone buzzes against your table. as your eyes rip from the unfinished worksheet, you spot the familiar name flashing on the screen. with one glance at your door, you bring your headphones to rest around your neck. it takes three rings for you to answer.

“what do you want?”

“the fuck? what’s wrong with you?”

you roll your eyes as you fiddle with your pen. “i’m studying, you fucker.”

“on a sunday?” changmin’s question has you only groan. “what happened to resting?”

“i wish,” you murmur as you scratch the back of your head. “i’ve been stuck on this stupid worksheet for the past hours. it’s annoying too. i mean, i already know this topic, so i don’t know why it’s so hard.”

“awe, is my best friend suffering over kumon?”

your forehead rests on crossed arms. “yes. i think i’m going to die.”

“okay, then. i’ll take that as my sign.”

“sign to what?”

he chuckles as if it were obvious. “to save you! let’s go to mr. kim’s.”

a groan leaves you as your back meets the chair. “no, i can’t. do you know what would happen if i don’t finish my kumon?”

“uh… no?”

“me, neither. i’m not taking my chances.”

“but, you’re not even doing anything!” changmin pointing out the obvious has you rolling your eyes. “wouldn’t it be better to take a break with your best friend? i can even help out.”

as you bite the inside of your cheek, you glance once more at your closed door. you weigh it out; would you rather take a break with your best friend or would you save yourself from the consequences brought by home?

but the answer was already clear. “give me 10 minutes.”

changmin laughs before you drop the call.

it’s the smell of fresh hotteok that greets you. the quiet buzzing of the fan accompanied by mr. kim’s favorite trot music fills your ears. while the owner seems to be away from the cashier, a white, stray cat takes over, body flopped on the counter as it snores away the heat. as the sun pours through windows, coating every corner of the mart with a glow of fireflies, you know this will be a place of its own.

“y/n, over here!” a familiar voice calls out. as you whip your head to the source, you see your best friend by the chest freezer, eyes crinkled and all dimples.

now, you’re certain that nothing could ever replicate this.

you walk towards changmin, finding your spot beside him as you two look through the collection of frozen treats. “so, what do you want from here?” you ask.

“uh… i’ll be honest, i just realized i’m short on money.”

you glance through the price tags, only for a groan to leave you. “i’m short too. when did mr. kim raise the prices?”

“no clue. i thought i’d have enough to get a summer crush,” changmin complains as his eyes are glued to the coffee sorbet. “i hate inflation.”

“come on.” you fish out for the coins in your pocket. “let’s see how much we have together.” changmin does the same. with palms out, you two count through your shared funds.

“we can get a summer crush!”

“you can get one. i’ll be left with barely anything.” you look through the selection once more. “man, i really want samanco. the red bean sounds so good right now.”

defeat casts over changmin’s features. for a moment, you almost consider giving up on having a frozen treat and settling for a glass bottle of orange soda, until you spot a familiar popsicle brand.

“holy shit, it’s right there.”

“what?”

“there!” your finger points at the stack of twin bars. “we can probably get that and split it.”

changmin’s expression morphs into realization. “okay, let’s get—”

“dibs on grape.”

“dibs?” he furrows his eyebrows at you. “you can’t just call dibs. you’re doing it wrong. clearly, we should discuss—”

“nope,” you retort. a chuckle laced with disbelief leaves your best friend. to him, it seemed like you were joking around. “i made the suggestion and contributed a lot more to our shared funds.”

“okay, but—”

“don’t tell me you want the peach flavor more than the grape.” as you continue to shut him down, he knows there’s no way around you.

(plus, he wasn’t a fan of peach-flavored things, anyway. how unfortunate that mr. kim only has those two flavors right now.)

“next time, we’re choosing a flavor that i want,” he gives in. you let out a cheer before grabbing the frozen treat.

you two make your way back to the cashier and spot mr. kim slouched in front of the television, hand stroking the sleepy feline. he’s still wearing an old, red plaid apron on top of a pair of basketball shorts and a loose graphic tee which had the name of a band you’re unfamiliar with. with how he sits, you’re afraid that his back problems will get even worse. (still, you don’t say anything. he’ll only play it off and say he’s still one of the “youngins”... whatever that means.)

once his eyes land on you two, a grin takes over. “ah, my favorite kids! it’s nice to see you both.”

“yeah, it’s been a while,” changmin starts off. “y/n’s always busy with kumon.”

you narrow your eyes at the boy. “hey! you’re busy, too! you’ve been practicing at the studio almost every day!” the wrapped popsicle now rests on the counter. “every time i’m free, you’re not.”

“hey! whenever you’re free, i’m tired from training!”

“okay, let’s settle down,” mr. kim breaks up the banter. he then takes note of the ice cream on the cashier, the price showing up on the cashier. “isn’t the heat hard enough for you two to be studying or practicing?”

“yes, very much.” you count the coins once more before dropping the exact amount on the counter. “but,” you glance at changmin and his disheartened expression is enough for mountains to move, “i don’t think we have a choice.”

in reality, these were the circumstances you two had to work and live with. during the days changmin ended practice early, you were drowning in summer school assessments. whenever you managed to finish your homework, it would be during the hours your best friend was off at the studio or passed out at home from exhaustion.

“choice, no choice, people always say that.” mr. kim counts your payment before putting it into the cashier. as he takes note of what you’ve bought, he says, “everyone has a choice. i’m sure you two can figure it out.”

the only difference is that one chose this path; the other had to suffer from the decision forced onto them.

“don’t worry, mr. kim,” changmin nudges your shoulder. “i’m sure we’ll figure it out.” and when the dips in his cheeks appear, you find yourself smiling back.

maybe you were okay with the life you had to live, just maybe.

“anyway, we’ll go ahead,” changmin bids farewell to mr. kim.

you giggle. “he means we’re just going to eat our ice cream at the front.”

as you two slowly make your way out of the mart, mr. kim shakes his head. “you lovebirds go ahead. i’ll see you next time!”

“mr. kim!” you and changmin shout in unison before glancing at each other.

“what?!”

your best friend groans. “you know we aren’t together.”

“yeah! like, i can’t imagine it,” you join in.

still, the owner laughs at your reactions. “you two are so funny. just go and enjoy your ice cream.”

you roll your eyes at his words. “bye, mr. kim!”

with that, you and changmin were out of the mart and took a seat on the benches. you hand your best friend the wrapped frozen treat before letting out a sigh. “i still can’t believe this is one of the few times we got to meet up during the break.”

“i know.” he tears the plastic wrapping off. “you would think that summer break would mean we get to hang out nonstop, but i’m starting to think we saw each other more whenever we had school.”

you hum. “i know. and i had ap stat while you had training.” your eyes dart at changmin who grips onto the popsicle sticks, struggling to split it into two. “oh my god, don’t tell me you can’t split it.”

“hey! it’s hard.”

as you giggle, you reach your hand out. “let me do it.” once changmin hands you the twin bar, you attempt to split the two. for a moment, you almost think about agreeing with him. yet, the frozen treat splits into two perfectly, and a satisfied smile rests on your lips.

you hand him one popsicle, only to be met with his glare. “i know, i’m just better.”

“just shut up.” to that, another laugh leaves you.

under the sun, you enjoy the coolness of the twin bar. while you would’ve stared off to nowhere, you and changmin were here at the right time to catch civilians bustling away. some were on dates, where one would go on about their interest while the other would smile at their rambling. there were kids whose chatter could be heard all the way from the end of the block, and blue-collar men who were off to enjoy their break.

you can’t help but imagine what people saw—thought—of you and changmin. did they think of you as unexpected friends? has it ever crossed their minds that you two were only classmates who seemed to always be paired together? or did they ever think the same as mr. kim?

“you know,” changmin starts off, causing you to look at him, “i was going through college courses the other day.”

your eyebrows shoot up. “oh?”

with your reaction, changmin giggles. “i was just curious, you know? not that i’m giving up on dance or anything, but,” he licks the popsicle, “early childhood education sounds cool.”

you hum. “i wasn’t expecting that.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“no, it’s not a bad thing!” you reassure the boy. “it’s just,” you rip your gaze off of changmin and look at the playground, “i always thought of you as a dancer, you know? kind of like you were meant for the stage.” the laughter of the kids who passed by you two bounces all over the block and you can’t help but smile. “but i don’t doubt it.”

the breeze graces your sweat-covered skin. “what about you?” you look back at him. “would you ever consider journalism? maybe communication as your major?”

you’re quick to laugh at his suggestion, but when confusion paints his features, you realize it’s a serious question from him.

“no.” it’s a straightforward answer from you, but changmin could never settle with that

“why not?”

a sigh leaves you. “i just don’t consider it. i mean, i think about it,” all the time, “but not enough to consider it. plus, astrophysics is cool.”

“but is it your dream?”

changmin’s question is an easy one to answer—not at all. you’ve had enough learning about theories and making sense of the numbers. if your future is going to only complicate that further, then maybe astrophysics isn’t made for you. 

but who’s to say that you’ll even enjoy journalism?

“we’ll see.” you leave it at that and changmin didn’t push for more.

because the reality is that if you ever did consider it, transform those dreams into action plans, you were terrified to be met with your parents’ disappointment—it wouldn’t only be from your lousy desires but from changmin’s role in your life.

the first time you mentioned changmin to your parents happened over dinner, letting them know you would be staying later at school to work on the final project for art class with him. they didn’t bat an eye at his name as they continued to talk about what happened during work and pester you about your progress in other classes. (art class didn’t matter to them, only the sciences and math were ones they seemed to track. still, they would criticize you if you didn’t place first honors.)

with your parents’ oversight, something blossomed between you and changmin. from there, there were more days you would get home later than usual. while you were still on top of your work, they took your late arrivals as a form of negligence.

all it took was one night for them to demand an explanation. the reappearance of him in the conversation had only caused them to reprimand you—changmin’s not like you. he’ll only hold you back. 

from that day on, you’ve learned to keep his name out of conversations. you’ll enjoy what you have with changmin, even if it has to be kept under the wraps.

“how’s training?” you change the subject, trying to keep the attention off of your failed dreams to changmin’s flourishing ones.

“well, it’s a lot,” he chuckles as he munches a piece. “you already know that it takes how many hours to get to the company, and the hours i spend in the practice room are unlike the trainings i have at school.”

as his eyes meet yours, you only shoot him an apologetic smile. it was never going to be easy; you two knew that before changmin entered the doors of the company. yet, he still held on.

“you know, i never considered it before, but i like where i’m going,” he admits. “even if i’ve always had dreams to pursue dance, i want to make my family proud if i ever get to debut.” 

changmin knows how to persevere. regardless of all the bruises he gets from performing complex dance routines or the hours of sleep he longs for, he knows how to hold on. you wish you could say the same for yourself.

“and you will,” you reassure the boy, wrapping your arm around his shoulders. “who wouldn’t be proud of you?”

he holds your stare and your smile falters. for a moment, you don’t know if you touched on a sensitive topic. would he shrug your arm off? do you think he’ll shut you off, maybe cut your time together short? will changmin get mad at you for something you didn’t know was wrong? would he be just like them?

“i want to make you proud.”

that’s enough to answer it all.

you shake your head. “don’t even doubt that for a second.” your arm finds it spot back to your side, and changmin’s loops his with yours.

although he knows how to persevere, he never knows when to shut his ears from the shadows. 

“i am proud of you,” you tell him. “always have, always will.” he can’t help but smile. all you can hope is that he’ll listen closely to your voice.

“i almost forgot,” he says out of nowhere.

“forgot what?”

as he tugs his arm away, his hand fishes for something in his pocket. “close your eyes.” you furrow your eyebrows. “just do it!” you follow his orders. “and keep them closed, okay?” you let out a hum.

before you know it, something wraps around your index finger. you would’ve opened your eyes, confused over the foreign yet familiar material, but they remain shut. 

“okay, open.”

your gaze rests on your finger wrapped in yellow and blue. it’s a finger trap—and the other end is connected to changmin. despite your tug, it still holds you two together.

it’s the warmth that fills your cheeks, the heartbeat in your ears, and your starstruck eyes that has him smile. “no matter what happens, we’ll stick together, okay? regardless of what paths we end up pursuing. all that matters is that we have each other.”

he’s filled with hope. hope for his dreams. hope for your relationship. hope for what the future holds for you two. you can’t help but hope as well.

all it takes is a nod from you to solidify the promise to the universe.

you two sit in silence, finishing up the popsicles as people continue to pass by. at one point, you heard mr. kim let out a curse over the drama he’s watching. the sun is about to set, wrapping you two in a golden blanket, and all that matters is the finger trap.

present  -> two weeks before the interview, 2024

it’s no surprise to you that the newsroom is quiet. while your peers are off to gather more information, you’re with lee chaeyeon of news as she tries to meet the deadline for her article’s first close.

“do you think dokyeom will be late?” you ask as you watch her rephrase sentences.

she laughs. “when is he never? minho’s always assigning him coverages.”

“that’s true.” your eyes drift to the hallway. “i’m just hungry. he still owes me food, you know?”

“over another bet? or you saving his ass?”

“over helping him with an article,” you reveal, earning a shocked look from her. “for some odd reason, he needed another writer to help out with a live coverage, and all the sports writers and sports editor were busy handling the other events.”

“holy shit.” chaeyeon continues with her work. “i didn’t expect you to work on anything sports-related.”

“yeah, but it helped that it was a dance competition. at least i know something about dance.” you only know who to thank. “i’m going to make sure i get compensated for that. i’m planning to raise it to minho and namjoon, anyway. that’s if dokyeom would fucking come and help in explaining the situation.”

with the mention of the tardy writer’s name, he’s scrambling through the halls with his backpack in one hand and a paper bag in the other. the moment he sees you, he shoots you an apologetic smile.

“speak of the devil,” you say as you stand up straight. “why do you always show up late? i helped you with the article.”

dokyeom finds his spot beside you as he sets down the bag on your desk. “i’ll have you know that wasn’t the only article i had yesterday. i was catching up on other ones that minho assigned me.” before he can plop down on his seat, he spots chaeyeon working. “damn, tough life at news.”

“no need to point out the obvious, doofus.”

“wow, harsh,” he replies to her insult. “just so you know, i bought food for us.”

“thank god,” you exclaim as you open the paper bag filled with takeout containers and sealed cups. as you pull them out one by one, you spot your usual order from the vietnamese restaurant around the corner. “oh my god, thank you for getting me this.” you take a seat before you pass dokyeom his food and utensils.

“yeah, i know. i’m just the best.” his shower of compliments for himself only has you rolling your eyes. “but thank you, by the way, for helping me out with the article. i needed an extra pair of hands and my own editor couldn’t stand in to help out.”

“it’s fine. just make sure you help me get compensated for that article,” you say before you open the container. as the smell of bun bo nam bo fills your nose, you can’t help but let out a quiet moan. “holy fuck, i’ve been craving this.”

“i made sure to get you some vietnamese coffee also.”

“yeah, i saw. thank you.” you split the chopsticks with one hand. you’re about to mix the bowl of your favorite food—

“is y/n here?” your editor calls out, causing you to let out a sigh before you stand up from your seat.

“yes?”

namjoon’s gaze lands on you. “can i talk to you for a bit?”

despite your grumbling stomach, you give him a nod and set your food down. as he retreats to his office, you glare at dokyeom who munches away on goi cuon. “i hate you.”

“hey, what did i do?!” you ignore his attempts to defend himself as you make your way to your editor’s office.

once you swing the door open, you spot namjoon whose eyes are stuck to the screen. “you can take a seat,” he says with no attempt to look at you. you sit across from him, hands folded on your lap, while he types away on his keyboard.

the moment he hits the ‘enter’ key is when he finally looks at you. “sorry about that. i was just replying to minho regarding your compensation for the article you worked with dokyeom. we both appreciate what you did. next time though, make sure to loop in minho or me before you two start working on beats not within your staffs.”

“sorry about that,” you start off. “dokyeom only asked for my help and i thought it would be fine since i’m familiar with dance, anyway.”

namjoon shakes his head with a small smile plastered on his face. “it is fine, just make sure to inform us.” you only nod.

“anyway, i’m sorry to have this meeting with you right now but i have to leave work early today, and i thought that you’d appreciate that i tell this to you now instead of tomorrow,” he says. you hum, curious about what he has to say. “i have a coverage for you, a very, very, long one.”

over the sight of your wide eyes, he can’t help but chuckle. “it’s 12 articles,” he says and your mouth gapes over the number. “well, one main article and 11 profiles with very brief introductory paragraphs.” his attempt to ease your shocked state does nothing.

“namjoon, that’s… a lot.”

“yes, i know. i would love to split the workload but everyone else is handling other articles, and i trust you. i know i’m asking for a lot but i’ll make sure to help you out with them. it’s just that we’re working on a time crunch and i don’t know anyone else i can ask but you.”

the faith that your editor seems to have in you is like no other.

“profiles, like, those q&a transcripts?” you ask.

he nods before saying, “yes, and just a brief introductory paragraph for each profile. i’m just expecting you to put more work into the article about the group. i’ll make sure to help out with the profiles.”

namjoon’s trust should be anxiety inducing, enough to send you complaining, but you find yourself relieved. your mentor became your second-in-command; the mountain of workload transformed into a hill.

“okay.”

a relaxed smile appears on his face at your acceptance. “thank god! i was going to stress about this the whole day if you refused. i’ll make sure to send you the details about this once i’m done with my appointments, and then we can see how we’ll divide the work later on.” he types something. “we’re covering a k-pop group which is why there’s one main article about the whole group and then 11 profiles.”

“yeah, i figured that out.” this isn’t anything out of your usual articles. “can i ask who we’re interviewing? maybe i can do some research on them while you attend your meetings.” you pull out your phone, ready to search up whoever your editor says.

“don’t know if you’re familiar with them but they’re called the boyz?” you still in your seat. “wait, let me check. yes, that’s their name.”

“the boyz?”

namjoon looks at you, now met with your features that have transformed from wide eyes to scrunched eyebrows.  “yeah. do you know them?” 

you shake your head without a second thought. “no, i don’t think i do,” you whisper the last sentence to yourself. his narrow eyes look over you, almost dissecting you.

the walls surrounding you are painted in solid colors of pearl, almost untouched. yet, under the paint are cracks that spread like cobwebs. every burst is a testament to the earthquakes they’ve faced; no one should be able to see a single line of black amid the white sea. now, they’re filled with paste, and it should be enough to cover them all.

but for the first time, the paint has chipped and the paste has deteriorated; the different colors of cheongju seep through the cracks.

you clear your throat as you straighten your back. “i’ll be sure to research them.” you wave your phone at him, hoping to divert his attention, but his gaze remains on you.

a sigh leaves him. “okay. expect to receive the documents later in the afternoon.”

he doesn’t push any further. for now, the walls remain intact. (or appear as so.)

it was never going to be easy.

“honestly, i gave up expecting to win as we practiced,” the youngest says through tears. as they huddle, they let out silent wishes for the upcoming years. before they blow the candle, they don’t forget to express their gratitude to the fandom who stuck with them through thick and thin.

a time of celebration turned into a moment to remember their struggles. these were pockets of their time that marked their spot in history.

“oh, everyone behind us is crying!” another member points out as the camera captures the team’s bittersweet cries.

and when you catch sight of the orange-haired boy who hides his tears behind his friend, the ache in your chest starts to spread through your veins. the video cuts to his low-hanging head as his members comfort him. they knew all of his hardships—you only know a fraction.

such a tender moment happened five years ago; it’s the same amount of time between this achievement and your departure. within those years, what did changmin undergo? did his trainings waver his passion or did the fire burn just as bright as it did since he first auditioned? was he confident in his skills or was he still critical about every performance he had?

but most of all, what did he face? what did he learn? to hate? to love?

what did he go through without you?

you don’t forget to take note of their first win on your document filled with bullet points of information. while you were going to continue watching, a recommended video caught your attention. it’s a changmin focus. you don’t hesitate to click it.

the video starts off with him checking up on the fans before the performance starts. as he mimes out eating, they answer his question with reassurance.

and there they come—his dimples appear.

it transitions to their group in their opening formation. as they await for the song to play out, changmin’s familiar smile shifts into a dominant gaze.

in the same way the first notes draw people to listen, your eyes never leave the boy. his movements are fluid, like water droplets sliding off leaves. he commands the stage regardless of where he’s positioned.

changmin is meant to be on the stage—no, every stage is made for him. every crowd is meant to cheer his name and remain captive to his talents, and every spotlight is meant to shine on him.

you rest your chin on crossed arms. long gone was the bowl cut and loose school uniform. he’s grown. matured, even. yet, the moments where his smile appears makes you realize one thing: the 16-year-old boy you knew still lives within him.

as their performance comes to an end, you don’t bother to move your cursor, letting the next recommended video play. and when his vlog plays out, you realize that a fragment of his identity is a whole of what you know.

what an honor it is to have known him for even a fraction of your lifetime.

his voice is a lullaby, the same one you used to fall asleep to, so you allow yourself to close your eyes. you let go of the responsibilities for just this moment, and allow yourself to be transported back into the warmth of his arms.

fall of 2014

out of all the seasons, autumn took its spot in being your favorite. clusters of green slowly morph  into shades of oranges and browns. it’s a symphony of chirps that fills the silence. while the breeze brings you comfort after the heat of summer, it also reminds you of the looming winter.

it’s a shame that autumn does live up to its other name: a season of fall.

“you’re always like this,” your mother comments. you stand in front of your parents, slumped shoulders and downcast eyes, as they hold a sheet of paper they believe dictates your future. “always so sensitive. we’re just asking you what went different. why did your grades drop?” to them, a shift from a to b+ is a threat to your future. 

while your feet stand on wooden floors, a flood starts to form. murky waves crash against your legs, but you do your best to keep your balance.

“answer us when you’re being talked to.” your father snaps you out of your thoughts. “what have you been doing for your grades to drop?” you want to answer but a single sound that leaves you may only lead to blubbers that your parents will scold you for. 

with your silence, your mother sneers. “i knew we shouldn’t have let you do your own things. i told you so.” she shifts her gaze to him. “what did i tell you about y/n? you know they’ll only slack off!”

“i thought we could trust them. clearly, i was wrong.” your father’s glare raises the water levels, reaching your chest. you don’t know how to swim in the foggy ocean.

“i know why.” she crosses her arms. “it’s because of that changmin boy, isn’t it?” she says his name laced with disgust.

you don’t think twice to defend him. “no, it isn’t!”

“don’t you dare talk back at me!”

“but i’m not! he’s done nothing.”

your father begins to raise his voice. “and that’s what’s wrong! that lazy boy does nothing for his studies. he clearly doesn’t care about his future.”

you always knew it would be a losing battle, but you’ll put up the fight to protect your best friend’s name. “that’s not true! he does care. he’s planning to do early childhood education for college, maybe become a teacher.”

“that job has no money. see, i can already see that you’re being influenced by him,” he argues back.

and as the murky waters rise, filling your lungs, your first instinct is to close your eyes and scream. “stop saying that about him!”

a beat passes.

“i don’t want you hanging out with him.”

“but—”

“shut up.” your mother’s words cause you to look up, meeting your parents’ faces filled with anger.  “go to your room. now.” you’re nothing but a puppet for them.

was it even a battle if you always knew you were going to lose?

despite the safety of your room, you don’t let the tears flow down. you do anything to distract yourself; maybe a book will convince you that your life is only a figment of your imagination.

waves continue to crash against your body. if you let them take your body, would they send you far away from cheongju? from your parents? from the weight you were entrusted to carry since birth?

but would you allow the waves to send you away from changmin?

your phone buzzes against the mattress. with tear-filled eyes, you see your best friend trying to reach you. you don’t think twice about declining his call and shutting off your phone.

as you curl in your bed, you hope the sea will swallow you whole—the slow, burning pain that comes with drowning won’t compare to the burns that haven’t healed. but you know that the blame rests on your shoulders. if only you had studied harder, cut off hours of rest for your work, then maybe you would be the perfect child your parents wanted.

were you wrong for allowing yourself to enjoy the small breaks between classes? was the time spent in the mart supposed to be for schoolwork? should you have found yourself a tutor? were you in the wrong for not working yourself to the bone? did you not work enough?

are you not enough?

then, a knock. your eyes snap open. like a stroke of light in the middle of the dark, changmin is by your window.

you get off your bed to open the window. as the glass barrier disappears, he enters your room. “are you okay?” he spots your glassy eyes and his hands find their spot on your shoulders. “what happened?”

you break eye contact. “what do you want, changmin?”

“you didn’t pick up your phone. and when i tried calling again, i couldn’t reach you,” he starts to explain.

you shrug off his grip on you before you take a seat on your bed. “i’m fine. my phone died.” as you feel the spot beside you dip, you look at your best friend. at the sight of his furrowed eyebrows, you know he doesn’t believe you. “i said i’m fine.”

“i didn’t say anything.” for you are an open book to him.

he opens his arms towards you—it’s your move to make. then, a tight-lipped smile shows on his face, his dimples appear, and you allow yourself to fall. with his arms wrapped around you, you shut your eyes as you nestle your face into his neck.

breathe in. breathe out.

his hand finds its spot on your back, rubbing it in circles.

breathe in. breathe out.

“it’s okay, i’m here,” he says, and you allow yourself to crumble in front of him for the first time.

the tears hit changmin’s neck like a light drizzle. your wails bring earthquakes into his world.

yet, his warmth is enough to dry up droplets, and his embrace protects you as you fall into the cracks of the earth and into the depths of the world. the flood starts to subside.

in your time knowing changmin, how much did he know about you after all? had he always known of your strained relationship with your parents? did he hear about it from others or was he able to connect the dots?

because you didn’t know yourself outside of your parents anymore. did you like science because of your kumon classes? was your interest in writing birthed from a desire for validation from your parents?

are you nothing but an array of achievements and failures?

but your parents will never be satisfied; a standard too high is practically nonexistent.

changmin moves so that you two can lie down. his arms remain wrapped around you as you hide in his neck. “i’m sorry if i wasn’t there for you when you needed it then.” his whispered apology causes you to shake your head.

“you didn’t do anything wrong,” you blubber out to his neck.

“and you didn’t, as well.” his hand finds its spot behind your head. with every stroke, a tear streams down. “and i want you to know that i’ll be here for you.”

in your house, your room was the only space you called home. solace built by you. 

now, your home is changmin.

present -> two weeks before the interview, 2024

something about the newsroom feels odd to you. there’s nothing out of the ordinary aside from it bustling with journalists. the familiar sounds of printers and chatter from your workmates fill your ears. it’s a typical occurrence for your peers to meet their deadlines on the day itself. the tug in your gut doesn’t resemble ones formed out of your anxiety. why does it feel like one of destiny?

“where is dokyeom? i swear, this guy never shows up to the office.”

you snap out of your thoughts, looking over at chaeyeon who browses through her phone. as you shove a bill into the vending machine, a chuckle leaves you. “when is he never?”

“maybe if he finishes his coverages on time then he’d be getting enough sleep. then, he won’t be late.”

you side-eye your friend before you click on a button. “you know that’s not true.”

she sighs at the same time your bottle of iced tea drops. “yeah. apparently, if you have free time, you’re not a good journalist or some shit which i find stupid.” you grab your drink before facing her. “am i not allowed to do something else that’s not related to my job? i swear, this is why i’m single.”

“then date another journalist.” your joke earns a scowl from her.

“i’m never dating anyone in my field. a journalist dating another journalist is like,” she looks up to the ceiling as she thinks, “a long distance relationship with how much they’ll never see or have time for each other.”

a laugh erupts from you, one that may be too loud for your liking. “true.”

as you walk out of the breakroom with chaeyeon, you notice something in the corner of your eye: a brunette by the restroom. while you can’t see his face, you spot what’s in his hand and you halt in your tracks—a finger trap.

“hey, is there someone there?” your eyes snap back to your friend who looks at you in confusion. when your eyes drift back to where the brunette once was, he’s already gone. you shake your head before walking back to your desk.

the same gut feeling lingers. with a frown, you open up your article only to be met with a few comments that namjoon left last night. maybe your gut knew that you weren’t done with your work. thankfully, it’s nothing too major, and you can have them done within the next few minutes.

“there you are!” chaeyeon exclaims, causing you to look up from your screen to a panting dokyeom. “were you working on your articles again?”

“actually, i went out last night.” while you shake your head at dokyeom’s reveal, chaeyeon gasps. “yeah, i did! i actually had fun for once!”

as he nods proudly at last night’s events, she complains, “are you serious?! how come you have time to go out? i was just talking to y/n that we never have time to ourselves.”

“i’m in sports,” he points out as he shrugs his shoulders. “you’re in news.” at this point, you’re expecting the two to spiral into an argument, so you redirect your focus back to your article.

“hey, did you hear though? there’s a k-pop group in the building.” you glance at chaeyeon.

your other friend leans on the cubicle. “really? who?”

“no clue.”

dokyeom lets out a groan. “what type of journalist are you if you can’t find out?”

“yah!” chaeyeon smacks his arm, causing him to wince in pain. “says you who can never submit on time.”

“hey, i’ll have you know that minho has been understanding!”

“whatever.” she rolls her eyes before looking at you. “that means you’ll probably be handling them. i hope they’re cute so that you can finally have something going on with your life outside of work.”

a chuckle leaves you as you get back to work. “i’m never dating an idol. i’d get hunted down by their fans.” 

“yeah, but can’t you dream a little? do you ever imagine what it would be like?”

the past plays in your mind. after school performances and interviews. broken-up popsicles. finger traps. a life you shared with changmin then—one you still cling onto.

yet, you shake your head as you edit your article. “not even.”

it’s a life you’ll keep to yourself.

“what’s the update?”

the three of you look away from each other, spotting namjoon who comes to you with a smile. long gone were the sweaters that failed to drown out his figure and the boxy glasses that would rest on the bridge of his nose. now, he wears a dress shirt and trousers with hair slicked to the side. there were no frames for him to hide behind.

“ah, namjoon! you’re dressed so nice today.”

with dokyeom’s compliment, he can’t hold back on his smile. “thank you. are you guys done with your articles?”

as your friends nod, you add the finishing touches to the document. “and done! i just finished addressing your comments.”

“great. thanks, y/n.”

“do you have something?” chaeyeon asks your editor, causing you to roll your eyes. one thing about journalists is that they love to know everything.

namjoon nods before saying, “i just had a meeting with some possible interviewees.”

“is this the one with the k-pop group?” as dokyeom asks the question, you can’t help but laugh as chaeyeon looks at him in disbelief for spilling confidential information.

your editor chuckles. “yes.”

“can we know—”

“no, you can’t know.”

chaeyeon pouts at namjoon. “not even a hint?”

namjoon ignores her question and begins to walk off. “good work, y/n!” he calls out before leaving you three alone.

“man, namjoon never tells us shit,” chaeyeon complains as she leans on the table.

“to you guys, at least,” you argue with a small shrug.

still, the gut feeling remains.

something about the newsroom feels odd to changmin. while he’s had his fair share of paranormal experiences, his gut tells him that there’s something in the office. yet, the tug isn’t one that speaks of danger. why does it feel like one of destiny?

“should we have a short break before we discuss the schedules for the photoshoots and interviews?” changmin is snapped out of his thoughts by namjoon’s suggestion.

his manager looks at the group. “do you guys need a break?”

sangyeon shoots namjoon a smile before looking at his members. “you guys can use the washroom if you need to.”

although everyone seemed fine with proceeding, changmin couldn’t shake off the feeling. maybe the leftover curry he had this morning went bad. “i’ll go,” he says as he gets off his seat.

namjoon slowly stands up. “okay, i can bring you there—”

“it’s okay! i saw the washroom on the way here,” changmin says before walking to the door. “you can discuss the details without me. i’m sure you guys will manage.”

with sangyeon’s and his manager’s nods, namjoon settles back into his seat. “okay then, here are some of the dates i have in mind...”

changmin exits the room. he bites on the inside of the cheek as he thinks of what his gut could be telling him. is it the nerves for the upcoming tour? is he worried about the next comeback they’ve been preparing? or is he scared about what the future has in store for his group?

with his mind on these questions, he doesn’t realize that he arrives in front of the bathroom door. a sigh of frustration leaves him. the worst thing about gut feelings is never knowing what they’re trying to say.

he grips the handle, ready to swing the door open, until a familiar laugh hits his ears. one of the past. one he hasn’t heard in years. his muscles freeze.

when was the last time he heard that chortle? when was the last time he became the cause of it?

his eyes dart around the area for the source but no one else is here. he can’t help but shake his head in disbelief.

it should be stupid for him to think you two would ever reunite. in what world would you be in the same place as he is? it’s been 10 years. you could be anywhere around the world. yet, he fishes for something out of his pocket; the same finger trap he linked you to him rests on the palm of his hand.

he sighs before entering the washroom and shoving it back into his pocket.

maybe he’ll hold out a little longer.

winter of 2014

out of all the seasons, changmin’s favorite is winter. snowflakes fall, filling the sky with stars that people can touch, and snow piles on sidewalks, letting him throw snowballs at his friends. despite the freezing temperatures, changmin prefers this over nearly-boiling ones.

he can’t wait to share this season with you.

yet, the familiar, chilly breeze of the season transforms into whispers, and word gets around like thrown snowballs. 

“is y/n really not going to school anymore?” changmin looks up from his desk to see cheng xiao standing in front of him. he tilts his head in confusion, causing her to roll her eyes. “are they not going here anymore?”

he frowns. “huh? what kind of rumor is that?”

“i don’t know. it’s what people have been saying,” she says as she crosses her arms. “i asked because i wanted to know if my competition’s gone, you know? and you’re the only one here who has an idea about their whereabouts.”

changmin laughs in disbelief. “no, i was with them last week.”

when changmin last saw you, you asked for space. with what’s been happening with your family, you needed time to process and cope with your issues, and he respected that. after all, he only knew a fraction of your relationship with your parents, and he didn’t want to intrude in anything you didn’t want him to be a part of. still, changmin reminded you that he’ll be there if you need him.

“damn, that sucks,” cheng xiao groans as her shoulders slump. “these stupid rumors.” as soon as she leaves changmin alone, he shakes his head.

the bell rings. students start rushing into classrooms and teachers scold those who aren’t on their seats. ms. jeon enters the room, walking to the desk in front and setting her things down. “cheng xiao, you’ll be in charge of attendance today.”

as changmin’s classmate gets off her seat, he can’t help but look at your desk that still remains empty.

“you have to message us when you land,” your mother says as she fixes the collar of your coat. despite your nod, she clicks her tongue. “answer me properly.”

“yes, i will.”

once your father finishes placing the last luggage in the trunk of the taxi, he stands beside your mother. “don’t forget why we’re sending you there. we expect you to do better with no distractions.”

your phone buzzes in your hand. as you look down, you see a message from changmin. as he asks about your whereabouts, the weight gets heavier—will you stand or crumble under it?

“who’s that?”

you stash your phone away as you look back at your parents. “nothing. it’s just an email from the school. they sent over the date for the orientation.” at the sight of their satisfied smile, you let out a small sigh of relief.

“well, go on.” your nod at your mother before getting in the car. with the windows still down, she adds, “don’t forget to get endorsement letters from the professors i sent over to you or else you won’t get to study abroad like we planned.” her choice of pronouns is funny; a plan that they crafted which never considered your input.

“okay.”

as your father commands the driver to go, your gaze remains on the two. it should be okay with you to leave cheongju; you’d be far away from your parents and experience an entirely different landscape to explore. it’s time you break away from the chains of this town. learn a life outside of what your parents forced you into.

yet, as the car takes its leave, the figure of your parents slowly shrinks. the distance from them should’ve given you the space to breathe, a relief you’ve longed for, but it only reminds you of your strained relationship. to them, it would be better that you’re out of their sight—and with your farewell, you never heard the three-word phrase.

the window rolls up. you try to hold back the tears, but the scenery of cheongju that you pass by births a storm within you. you didn’t want to say goodbye to home, regardless of how much you say you didn’t have a home in this town. every corner holds a piece of you in the same way you hold a piece of them.

the car approaches a safe haven you share. despite the snow that piles at the front, mr. kim’s convenience store is still open. you’ll never get to have his hotteok again or hear his favorite dramas play in the background. worst of all, you never got to say goodbye.

then, the familiar figure of your best friend exits the mart, and the storm transforms into a typhoon. the plastic bag he holds is filled with your favorite snacks, from the grape-flavored twin bar to a bottle of mr. kim’s homemade peach iced tea.

and in that moment that your car passes him, he pulls out his phone from his pocket, and you spot the familiar trap wrapped around his finger—the other end holds no one.

as quickly as you came into changmin’s life, he disappears from your view.

finger traps were fascinating. if you tug hard, the contraption won’t let your fingers go. yet, if you allow the two fingers to meet, allowing the toy to loosen, it’ll let you go with no harm.

but your finger trap with changmin was different. maybe it was already ripped to its seams.

interview

q: what made you decide on becoming an idol?

a: i’ve always loved dancing. growing up in cheongju, i always made time [for dance] whether it be [for] school competitions, talent shows, or even [choreographies] i wanted to try out. but i never considered becoming [an idol] until high school. a lot of my friends and family thought i was capable, and i’m glad they trusted me. it feels good to give back to them with every performance.

q: as the first trainee meant to debut in the boyz, you’ve spent more time training compared to your other members. what kept you going throughout your years of training?

a: my family’s support was one big thing that helped me [during my training.] every trip from my house to the company would last hours, and it drained me physically. so as the years went by, i started to question if all the time, money, [and] effort i was putting into an unpromised debut would be worth it, but my parents and sisters were always there to support and [take] care of me. but i’d also like to think my best friend was a major support in training years. i think they were the first one to [tell me that they saw me as an idol,] and at the time i brushed off the idea. but, look where i am now? so i think i owe a lot to them.

q: is there anything you’d like to say to those who’ve supported you as the boyz’s q?

a: mom and dad, thank you for believing in me. i know it wasn’t easy to wait until midnight for me to come home or take care of me whenever i got sick from training. thank you for always supporting me in every performance. to my sisters, thank you for helping mom and dad out at home. every day, i remind myself that you gave up so much just so i can pursue my dreams, and i want you know that i’m forever grateful for your sacrifices. to the rest of [the boyz], thank you for always allowing me to rely on you. i’m glad i can say i have brothers who i get to achieve my dreams with. deobi, thank you for your love and support over the years. i wouldn’t be the boyz’s q or ji changmin if it weren’t for you. and lastly, thank you to my best friend. i hope you’ll always be proud of me the same way i’ll forever be proud of you.

tag list: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @mosviqu @vernyangel @stealanity @deobi0412 @blue-rainydays @maessseongs @dearly-somber

[rubywithecat]

Heeey I saw that you are writing for aot again! I use to read them a lot :) could you write the aot boys in a family dinner just something silly and funny pretty please? :) thankss

Hello! Thanks a lot for loving my AoT ones<33 I had no idea that u guys enjoyed a lot to my AoT hcs, I’m so grateful for it ^^’

AoT boys at family dinner (fem. reader)

Eren Yeager

-He had proposed you days ago so you invite him to your family dinner, to introduce to your family. He had prepared considerate gifts for your parent and ur parents immediately liked his behavior. At the dinner, he would be shy to take the dishes into his plate so you have to take for him. “So, how long have u been dating my daughter” your dad asked. “Two years, sir” he replied. “You called me sir?” Your dad raised his eyebrows. He was nervous. “Umm… you don’t like it…?” He asked, looking at you for help. “Haha it’s not that I don’t like it. U can call me dad, alright? We’re gonna be family anyway” he said as Eren was blushing. “Yes, sir…I mean dad” he said, squeezing your hand out of embarrassment and you and your mum laughed.

Armin Arlet

-When you told him your parents are gonna come this evening for dinner, he freaks out cuz he hadn’t prepare anything. “It’s okay u don’t need to, Armin. It’s a casual dinner anyway” U told him. When they arrive, he greeted them politely and they were impressed that he wasn’t nervous at all. He was smart enough to be adjustable and chose right kind of words with his conversation and bond with your parents immediately. The dinner wasn’t awkward at all. Now they even favored him more than you after that dinner.

Reiner Braun

-He wanted to be seen flawless by your family so he tried so hard which made him seemed more like overly suspicious. Your little bro dropped his spoon and he immediately got up and said, “don’t worry I will wash it immediately” then he stood up and did it. Your parents were just being awkward and looked at you and your mum whispered “Is there smth wrong?” she was worried. “I swear he’s not like that” you had to cover for him. “He’s just nervous, mum”. When your dad told a joke, he laughed so hard that made him more awkward. But overall, your parents understood him and when they told him like he doesn’t need to be nervous around them cuz he’s like their son, he felt relived and his actions changed more casual later on which made your parents loved him.

Porco Galliard

-You were so surprised that he’s so good at handling this kind of situation. He easily impressed your parents with his gentleman behaviors and slight humor. “I can’t believe that my daughter attracts this kind of perfect young man” your dad praised him and teased you. “Dad! I’m also good!” you defended. Porco just laughed and replied like “Actually, I’m so lucky to have your daughter. She has everything a man could ask for” which made him get million positive points from your parents and he smiled at you innocently. Before they left, they even reminded you like “don’t let go of this man, kiddo” and u replied like “I get that! I’m your actual daughter, not him, in case u forget” you got smiled fakely and you closed the door. You looked back at Porco, arm crossed. “What?” He smirked, patting your head. “It’s so suspicious that ur behaviors and speech were so smooth that how many times have you done with other girls before, huh?” you asked. “Oh, I swear this is my first time! No need to be jealous that I’m so good at it” he winked and u threw him with pillow.

Erwin Smith

-He actually cooked for the dinner and he lied for you that u did all of those. But your parents knew you couldn’t cook so u can’t fool them and they scolded you. “Don’t bully your fiancé, y/n” your mum said. “Mum I’m not!” U defended. Plus They were so impressed about him like his achievements and manners. And then your dad embarrassing you like “I’m so glad my daughter is marrying with you cuz I was worried if she would be eating cup noodle her whole life” Erwin laughed when your face got red. Your mum even gave him ancient vase that she liked collecting them. They liked him so much that they might even adopt him if you ever broke up.

—

—

[maopll]

I have a request!! AHEM (fluff) rainy days w/ blade or jing yuan or dan heng or all three if you can 🥺✨ THANK U 🫶

— UNDER THE RAIN : #honkai star rail !

⌗:, a/n: first hsr request!! my favourite trio

⌗:, warning: none

⌗:,pairings: blade, jing yuan & dan heng w/ gn!reader

— BLADE

Relaxing and having fun are two verbs which do not exist in his dictionary. He may be stoic all the time but just like any ordinary being he also wishes, no, yearn to be with you. To melt in your arms, away from the worries and darkness of the world.

"Blade, look ! it's raining. " you two were currently on a mission. The streets at the moment were empty so for two wanted people it was safe, for now. He humed looking at the sky "we should get a nearby shelter. It is poring outside" and just as he was about to find one, you pulled his arms and led him into the rain. "oh come one we don't get opportunities like this. Streets empty, and a rainy day." He loved you from deep within but showing those affections in the right way were a task for him. However, you bright smile in this dark world were a beacon of light for him.

A smile escaped from his lips, a pure smile and lovesick eyes. He held you hands and said "since you asked for it, stay close to me darling". Romancing with you freely without any worries seemed like a far fetched dream but what he wouldn't do to relive these again.

— JING YUAN

It was a holiday and surprisingly the General was not running to and fro and was comfortably dozing off on your lap. The sky was overcast with dark clouds and thunder could be heard off in the distance. Rain wasn't really a common occurrence in the Luofu but you couldn't really ignore the skip of your heart. Dancing and playing in the rain were your favourite activities. Jing Yuan noticed your longing eyes "if you really want to go outside then you should do it. " to which you replied "oh well I can't waltz by myself now I'll need someone to accompany me" "I'd rather sleep" now you knew your greatest weapon against him was puppy eyes. He begrudgingly agreed to your whims.

The rain started, and he did not like getting soaked wet, and he truly wanted to go inside but your enthusiastic smile were priceless. He didn't really have the heart to tell you to go back just because he didn't like the rain. Afterall rain like these were indeed few and far in-between.

You twirled and followed the footsteps of your lover, the pure look of adoration on his eyes and the dreamy scene was enchanting. Oh, how much he would travel galaxies just to make memories with his love.

— DAN HENG

He barely shows few emotions but with you and his family he feels one and whole. The sky was grey indicating a downpour and the streets were soon starting to get emptied because of the incoming rain. You lover as usual was going through research papers and telegraph which go into detail about the opponents found in the present planet.

The weather soon started to get cold enough and what better way to get warm other than your own boyfriend hugging you close and cuddling you until you get warm and snuggled good. "um babe don't you think it's quite cold now?" "well it is indeed cold dear" "so I'm cold right?" "grab a blanket then". Sometimes he acts as if he doesn't understand what you are trying to hint at but today it was especially quite cold because of the rain. " *sigh* fine fine I'll join you" you did you happy dance of victory and got ready to cuddle him.

He pulled you close to his chest and patted your head. The patter of rain and the soft heartbeat of your lover lulled you to sleep.The warmth only further had you drift off into slumber. He kissed you on the forehead. "goodnight my star" and also let sleep take over his form.

[mono-dot-jpeg]

tank moment - mauga

summary; title slightly irrelevant, i wanted to be funny. iykyk

genre/extra tags; headcanons/bullet fic, i talk about mauga hcs i thought of on the fly, reader is implied to be a support character, reader is also part of talon group, fluff, i only know the bare minimum about him and that's all i need baby, is this platonic or romantic idk

[gender neutral reader] [canon typical violence mentioned]

a/n; im back on my overwatch era. it never really ended but, i want to write about him, mauga, the beloved. typing this on my phone and finishing on my computer if anything seems wonky shhh dont tell me i'll relive that mistake for days

also this is a somewhat lightly reseached- aka not fully accurate/detailed work. i briefly mention samoan culture and if it offends or if it's a mistake, please tell me and i will erase those parts asap.

[support me and buy a kofi]

🗣 ALRIGHT SO ‼️

i've been watching and playing with/against mauga since the trial to play him came out and god i love him

but he's kind of easy to counter (im an ana main, nade is fucking broken but that's just anti heal things) and his ult is annoying

anyways

every tank needs their heal bot to keep em up

you just happen to be mauga's heal bot KDJSJSJ

(baptiste is too probably but not really)

he's a really smug guy

no one really knows that bc he sounds so upbeat and nice

but he loves to tease you, poke at you bc he knows that you will answer to him most of the time and entertain him in conversation

you and him are probably in your world even when you're both in talon tbh

he does his own thing and you just happen to join in

(he totally baits you to join his plans and you both know it)

he's a chaotic and cunning man and you're his enabler

(sounds like me and my bestie tbh)

"a hero would sacrifice you to save the world but a villain would sacrifice the world to save you" type beat

he's lowkey possessive but we dont talk about that

jk we do talk abt it

he's your scary guard dog privileges

like that man is tall tall ‼️‼️

idk why but i dont really imagine him being like an openly sweet person

he keeps it private even with how loud he is

anyways

you know how he's on a yacht for his origin story and there's like a bunch of people who got destroyed by him?

yeah he would totally do that shit for u if you asked.

he would give you the best home but

"thanks for the new place and all but did you have to kill someone for it?"

"i mean come on! this place is nice! let's enjoy it!"

he's very "i'll do the dirty work, just sit back and look pretty." and then you're like, "yeah i could. but i won't."

dps support vibes for you ✨️

but also he's charging in most of the time so, there's not much time to dps support KDHDJDJJD

he's like the kool aid man bursting in through the walls /j

cough

back to the hcs here...

he's so tall and big, he would totally let you hang off his back like nunu and wilump (from league, yeah i play league dont remind me totally gonna write for heartsteel soon tm)

also he's literally the greatest heated blanket (ahead of roadhog)

he's so stronk and wowowowow im so gay i love him

when you're surrounded by some enemies, he's charging in, slamming the ground and carrying you with ease as he keeps you safe while destroying any enemies who even tried to touch you

ugh

despite his lack of pda, he's a very actions over words.

he's so silly

chivalry isn't dead when he breaks into a jewelry store for u 😍😍

if you ever have those crazy thoughts about crime, he's totally gonna enable you and let you reign havoc on god knows what.

love language is actions and gift giving. enough said.

when he gives you a hug, he's so fucking warm omg

i said it before and i'll say it again, he's the best heated blanket, literal furnace

bad for the people who sweat easily though (ahem me lowkey)

one the off-days where it's just a day off and relaxing, he's taking care of you well !!

when you're on talon missions, since he can't run around as easily unless he gets the okay but you do keep him company until then

he likes to protect but he loves destroying people

he knows you're able to care for yourself, so he can go crazy whenever, and he loves that.

he also loves watching you get mad or angrily passionate

"yes go, la'u ma’asoama!" (my rock/stone, get it? bc his name means mountain)

he is a really good hype man. even if you're the one in the wrong.

god I WISH I LOOKED UP MORE ABOUT HIM ARGBHYKFJ

soon (tm)

someday i'll write more.

[aziraphales-library]

hello, i've been on the aziraphale-centric fics kick because he is one of my favorite characters ever :( <33 i wondered if you all have any azi centric fics to recommend? i really like hurt/comfort and hurt aziraphale :-) thank u <3

Hi. We have some Aziraphale-centric fics here, so check those out (it includes that one you're thinking of, so you don't need to add it in the notes). Here are some more...

A Gradual Acceleration by PunJedi (G)

Aziraphale has to deal with 6000 years worth of pent-up feelings and what happens when the world doesn't end on schedule. It's a tricky thing, love; his modus operandi has been to ignore it. But there reaches a point at which it simply cannot be ignored. Crowley is willing to wait, though.

It's Not The End Of The World by mellohirust (T)

“I think I'm still worried about… our old sides.” This is where he expects said bomb to explode. This is his fatal flaw, that he hasn't actually moved on, that things aren't actually as over as he wants them to be. It's all they've ever wanted, and they didn't truly have it. Not in his mind. Not somewhere deep within him, like a disease, like something he couldn't pry out of him. How selfish would he be, to drag the other down with him just for reassurance, force him to relive it all? Crowley stays quiet. Aziraphale feels as if he's confessed to something awful, like a part of him was fundamentally incompatible with the other. Aziraphale suspects both of these things could be the case and Crowley would love him anyway. He has it written down, somewhere in his mind, what Crowley ought to say. It’s not what he actually winds up saying. “Yeah,” the other finally mumbled, after what felt like eternity. He draws a breath. “Yeah, me too.” - Aziraphale hasn't been able to let himself rest in six thousand years. Crowley's determined to help him change that, even if addressing the root of the problem is more unpleasant and complicated than either would've hoped for.

So Still I Wait by HotCrossPigeon (T)

Aziraphale asks one too many questions. What is Heaven to do with their wayward Principality? Crowley picks up the pieces. (Solitary confinement warning)

A Hard World for Little Things by GiggleSnortBangDead (E)

When the Almighty Lord created the universe and decided that desire would exist within it, They hadn’t exactly said: “This shall go on top, and this on bottom.” But there was an ordering of things and a hierarchy of desire. That’s how it was explained to Aziraphale. All of us serve, he had been taught, and some of us are happy to serve a little more.

Night and Day by wyrmy (E)

Aziraphale Engel, black sheep of his strictly religious family, lives a quiet and monkish existence in the middle of London, trying to avoid the many temptations of the flesh and do his bit for the church that his father founded. But his quiet, untroubled, and unhappily narrow existence is about to come to an end, and he will be faced with the choice to give up even more of who he is or to survive in the real world.

Smitten at First Fright by Oopsynini (M)

Aziraphale has problems. No one needs to tell him so, he's well aware that his issues are many and in-between. He's an agoraphobic shut-in with a bad back and a sad past. It's a rule that, to most, he isn't much worth the effort of getting to know. Crowley doesn't seem to abide by any of that. He's an enigmatic gardener with a green thumb and a smile a thousand miles wide. It's something like love at first sight; if that included a panic attack and a minor foray into bird watching. Aziraphale is smitten, now if only he could get past his fears and admit it.

- Mod D

[ninjaneonleon]

(last seen at the tmnt au comp u _ u )

Mikey almost fell over backwards when the frantic looking Leo counterpart appeared in his vision. Casey, of course, was no help. She just laughed as he stumbled over his own feet and tried not to fall. In the end he just floated back to his feet properly with a small pout.

“Oh, sorry,” the Leo (Leon? Yeah, that worked for now) said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “I just really need to find my Donnie, he’s, uh, not very stable with others.” He held up the photo he was brandishing a little more for emphasis.

The photo in question showed a version of Donnie that was very different to the brother Mikey knew and loved. Not only was he notably paler, his usual jade colouring going almost pastel, he was softer somehow. Rounder. He was also wearing a beautiful feathered tutu, had small white wings and was en pointe. That Donnie looked like he was all set to dance in Swan Lake, maybe even as Odette considering the feathered crown he had in place of a headpiece.

“No, I haven’t seen him. Hey, why do you say he’s unstable?” Casey asked, her eyes lighting up with excitement. Eugh boy, if Casey got it in her head that she wanted to try sparring with this unstable ballerina Donnie, there would be very little Mikey could do besides try to hold her back. Maybe if he got the Donnie back with his Leo, he’d be calm enough to not take Casey up on her obvious excitement.

“He’s, uh, well he’s very much got a swan brain?” Leon offered with a sheepish laugh. “Half the time he’s fine, the other half…”

“Oh, he gets violent and territorial?” Mikey had a few encounters with swans in the past. They were dangerous bastards who can and will mess you up. “Eugh boy, that’s definitely not someone who you want to leave alone. Leave it to me, I can help you find him.”

“Wait, you can?” Leon lit up with a relived grin. “How?”

“Like this.” Mikey held his hand out towards the photo and got a feel for Swanatello’s (heh, Swannie, that was a perfect name for him) energy. Once he as sure, Mikey plucked that very unique feeling chain from the air. He studied it curiously. “Huh. This is a very old feeling connected to him. Well, anyway, I can track him for you. Just follow me, we’ll get your Donnie back,” he promised, not letting go of the chain.

“Thank you so much,” Leon said enthusiastically. I’m worried he’s either gonna freak himself out or hurt someone.”

“Has he got memory problems or something?”Casey asked, following after Leon and Mikey. “Our Donnie can be violent but he’s very good at directing that away from people. Most of the time.” She shuddered, probably remembering the sago pudding incident. Mikey didn’t want to dwell on that.

“Yeah, he’s sort of been claimed by this mystic lake to be its guardian?” Leon offered with a shrug. “It means that he barely remembers anything before, and on his bad days, he doesn’t recognise us at all. He might look small but he’s just as strong as ever.” Based on the way Leon rubbed his arm, he clearly knew just how strong Swannie was.

“Claimed by a mystic lake? I might be able to help keep him calm for a while, if you wanted,” Mikey offered. If he could make sure Swannie could still sense the lake, he might stay calm enough to not hurt anyone during this whole thing.

“Anything would be helpful, thank you Mikey.”

They walked together for a little while, following the pale coloured chain, until Mikey spotted Swannie. He was looking around frantically, his feathers all puffed up from how worked up he was getting. Okay, Mikey totally had this.

“Casey, wait here. Leon, you too. Let me see if I can calm him down.” As he spoke, Mikey let a wave of magic wash over him. When it cleared, he was in his own tutu (orange, of course) and had his pointe shoes on. Oh yeah, that was awesome, he totally nailed the dramatics there. It might have been a while since Mikey had done any serious dancing but luckily, his body remembered exactly what to do.

He called for Swannie’s attention by putting a spotlight on himself and on Swannie, one only they (and Casey and Leon) could see. Then he let some music start to drift around, again, done so it didn’t bother anyone who was want involved.

Swannie looked over immediately, but when he heard the music, he seemed to relax. Perfect. Mikey made his way over, travelling in time to the music and throwing in some of his own choreography, warming himself up slowly. He and Swannie met in the middle and for a moment, they danced together.

It was simple enough to weave in some magic to their dance. A nudge to the mystic hold on Swannie’s soul, finding the link back to the lake, a touch of mental magic in the form of white smoke gathering around them to make sure he could feel the lake and feel it was safe, and tada! One fully conscious and aware Swannatello.

“Mikey?” He asked slowly as Mikey let the illusions die down.

“Not quite. I’m a different Mikey, buuut your Leo is right over there.” Mikey gestured over his shoulder to where Casey and Leon were waiting.

“Leo!” Like a bullet out a gun, Swannie shot over to Leo and clung to him, getting an awed hug in return. Oh yeah, Mikey was good.

“Nice going, Mikey,” Casey said with a grin. She clapped Mikey on the shoulder. “Wanna stick around with these two for a bit?”

“Yeah, if they’ll have us,” Mikey said, watching the twins get quite emotional as they hugged. “I think they could use some familiarity here, and besides, I wanna dance more with Swannie.”

————

@tmntaucompetition

[sourbinnie]

☆ home ☆

♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> angst ; hurt/comfort ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> skz + 9th member!reader (gender neutral) ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> the truth is out (again) but this time it brings tears along the way. ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> none ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!

old faces, new smiles

a/n: i didn't do the same scenario cus i didn't wanna be repetetive but i did something quite similar, that's why i'm putting the og fic link! hope you enjoy it and thank you for requesting<3 / also this one is in first person and idk why, it just came out that way.

i knew doing one of these interviews where they asked nonstop questions about your past, your family and just how your idol journey started was gonna be difficult. i already went through telling my members that i was on hybe before, yet now i found yourself in a similar situation. reliving memories was not hard but having to share them in such a deep space with others and not shed a tear or two was gonna be a challenge.

i sat down with the rest of your members and prepared myself as hyunjin held my hand carefully. he knew i was nervous about these kinds of things, i was one of the shy members of the group and yet they always brought the best out of me when we talked.

"okay are we ready?" chan asked and everyone nodded. the conversation started with the older members sharing their best memories in jyp and how much their family meant and how they supported (or did not) them. it was a light and sweet conversation, there wasn't any tears but there were clear emotions in chan's voice, minho's expressions and changbin's movements. 

it wasn't hard to notice that i was really freaking out when they were sharing images and videos of us as trainees. it completely stopped when they showed the hybe dance practice rooms and my videos in there, doing choreographies i still remembered to this day and i knew it was my turn to speak. i laughed when they showed old photos with different idols that i still hold contact with these days. some really close friends, some that i haven't heard back from in a while, some that left like i did and some that debuted just now.

"it's insane how much potential you've always had (y/n)." changbin said it clearly and it took me by surprise because i wasn't expecting compliments this early and i got really embarrassed by those kinds of comments. they filled my soul but i never knew how to answer them. 

"even now looking at you, you grow more and more every day." minho mumbled and i still caught every word of his in my ear. it was truly wonderful seeing your elders appreciate you in such a moving way.

this is when the questions start so i prepared myself and i try to rethink what i went through.

"so as you all know, due to that interview with le sserafim, i was a hybe trainee. i spent most of my early teenage years training and made a lot of friends that i miss a lot these days but i hope to see someday." i took a deep breath 'cause even if they weren't completely gone, people just disappeared from my life left to right and i still miss them to this day. "it's insane how different it is from one company to the other but i left hybe with the best memories that i could and i made that decision myself."

"why did you decide to leave?" seungmin asked and i realized that i never was very clear on why i left, i just said that i had to move out and that jyp was closer. it wasn't so much like that but a bit more complex and i didn't want to sadden the mood that day but right now it felt like the situation was gonna be brought to that.

"i-i don't know exactly what it was. i just made the decision when i was going to debut that i wanted to leave the group because i didn't feel prepared mentally and physically to be an idol, which was a shame because i knew a lot of people wanted to be in my position and i felt like i was letting them down. so i decided to leave hybe and move to a different place." i said bitterly and honestly but with everything i was feeling at that moment. i knew my members right now would understand what i was saying but at the time i remember no one understanding my decision. 

i felt the tears the entire time in my eyes but right now i had let them go as they flowed through my cheeks. i grabbed a little tissue that jeongin was handing me and whispered a "thanks innie" as i wiped them away.

"what you did was incredibly brave. you put yourself first and what you needed at the time was that. i know it might be hard looking back and thinking that but for a reason you ended up here with us and i think we wouldn't be complete without you." chan said as he patted my back and i just gave him a little smile. it brought me back to where i was, with my friends, well more like my family.

"when i decided to get back to the idol life and back to my dream, i knew i had to go somewhere else. i just felt like i needed to start over again for me and for everyone to see that i could still do it. so i ended up at the competition with all of you and unfortunately got eliminated but then returned and since then i did not look back." i said smiling as everyone cheered and looked at me with a spark in their eyes. all i ever wanted was to make my members' proud and i felt like i was achieving that.

"you really did bring our joy when you came back (y/n), it wasn't easy without you. also felix and minho coming back was one of the best decisions!" jisung added as minho hit him in the shoulder for forgetting them but it just made me laugh. i sighed as i looked around and held hyunjin's hand still in mine.

"i just feel like it wasn't over, it never was. maybe i misread things at the time that i left but if it wasn't for that, i wouldn't have ended up here." i nodded and looked back at everyone. the way they were listening to every word i said was too much because i usually struggle with expressing emotions and saying the right things but i felt like i nailed it this time with how much they were giving me right now.

"i feel like you made the right choice. we wouldn't be having an ace right now if you didn't join back." felix said and i rolled my eyes 'cause i hated when they called me that. 

"two aces, don't forget about me." jisung said winking which made minho hit him again and i couldn't help but laugh again. god i loved this group so much and that wasn't gonna change ever. even right now as i was trying to hold back the tears because that conversation meant so much to me, they still managed to make me laugh every time that i needed it.

"i feel like i've said everything i have to say. stop showing pictures and videos of me please, i beg you." i said and what did they do? show more pics of pre debut me. 

"the fact that i've got most of these saved speaks volumes of me." hyunjin said, which made me drop his hand and look at him in disbelief. "it's blackmail because you have pictures of me as a baby!".

these are the discussions that are held on the dorms on a day to day basis. but either way, i wouldn't change it for anything in the world and i couldn't believe that i was brought to such a beautiful situation where i would meet my family, my friends, the ones that i would spend the rest of my days with if i could. everything felt on it's right place like i hoped it would and i could not be more thankful.

[cry4mina]

Death of Peace of Mind - Part 2 - Sugar

(Dom!Momo x fem!reader)

Death of Peace Of Mind - Part 1

Word Count: 3.6k

Filth, this is PURE filth/a fluffy moment or two

Summary: Momo wants seconds and you’re completely at her mercy.

TW: THIS IS AGGRESSIVE SEX. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE BOTHERED BY THE FOLLOWING: Degradation, Bondage, slapping, biting, overstimulation, mommy kink (please let me know if I missed anything!)

A/N: YAY OMG 200 FOLLOWERS WOW

Thank you so much to everyone who’s supported my works, everyone who has reached out and all the moots! <333 I did not think I’d be getting this much attention, so please know that I’m so grateful for every single one of you!

@nr1chaedickrider scheming with me for this one too so make sure u show chaepookums some love! Thanks again for bouncing ideas back and forth with me!

And of course all the moots who yelled at me to finish this lmaoooo

Fully prepared for the anons to go feral again.

Enjoy! :)

——

Shuffling and the sound of the shower turning on wake you from the deep sleep, the ache between your legs still very present, radiating not only desire but pure soreness from how rough Momo was with you.

A small whine and sleepy pout leaves your lips when you feel the bed dip back down next to you, hands gripping your face and a few light kisses scattering your cheeks as you furrow your brows.

“I’d rather your mouth somewhere else,” groggily leaves your lips as you fall in and out of sleep again.

“You’re lucky you got what you did last night.” scoff echoing in your ears, still holding your face and halfway pinching your cheeks to get you to pay attention.

“Was I?” Muffled through the haze, eyes still chasing the dreamscape as you lean into her hands. Lightly placing your head on the pillow, you can imagine the sneer she’s got painted across her face.

Momo gets up, “You are so ungrateful…” tone pointed as she heads to the bathroom, shower already anticipating her.

The static of the water and calmness of the room allowed you to slip back into your dreams of Momo throwing you around the way she did the night before.

—

Flashes of the night before present, rolling around with Momo in your shared sheets. Her sitting so close to your face- cunt dripping. pulling you up by your restraints and pounding the life out of you, sends aches through your body.

Aware of being in a dream space and happily reliving the memories when you felt something warm between your legs, taunting you. Heated breathes on your thighs, a familiar wetness between your folds, and the sensation of nails trailing around your hips.

Groggily whimpering and opening your eyes, your vision blurred by the half-sleep you were just getting. Attempting to stretch in your dazed state when you’re immediately halted by the cold unfamiliar feeling of metal around your ankles.

“Momo?” Breathlessly uttered, peering down to find her between your legs, ankles cuffed to the frame, chains taut to keep you from moving too much. Your muscle memory activates, reaching for her hair, only to find them connected to the bed frame in the same way your ankles were, metal pressed against the fragile skin of your wrists.

A gasp leaves your lips, eyes finally focus to reveal Momo between your legs tracing patterns on your clit with her tongue, just enough pressure to tease, looking at you with amused eyes when you finally realize what’s happening.

The punishment wasn’t last night…it was right now.

Mouth switching to a single pointer finger, imitating the pressure of what was once in its place. Half-lidded eyes make contact with yours, mirroring the lust you seeped from your pores, glistening in soreness and aching for more.

“I don’t think you made enough of a mess for me last night, baby. Let me show you why you won’t do that again'' calm in tone and aggressive with movements as she leans down and sucks on your pussy harshly. Still swollen from last night, attempting to writhe underneath her at how overstimulated you felt.

“Baby, please! Fuck fuck fuck!” bolts of lightning travel through your core, immediately setting a fire into the room as you attempt to pull away from the intense wave of pleasure hitting you all at once barely any build up.

Holding you down by your hips firmly as she works her tongue into you, moaning directly into your pussy as she sucks and laps at you, only to pull away quickly once you’ve finished, standing up and walking over to the side of the bed.

“You know the word, right?” breaking character for a moment to check in with you to make sure you knew you could stop this at any time.

A thin sheen of sweat covers your body, gasping as you weakly nod your head towards her, still trying to blink the rest out of your eyes and recover from the wave of overstimulation placed within you.

This was the permission she knew she had, before asking. An evil grin forms on her face as she starts chuckling at you, slowly dragging her finger down your body as she makes her way back down to her place between your legs.

Twitching under her touch as she lightly scratches down your body, unable to keep still when she reaches your core. Too sensitive to even pretend you have any sense of brattiness in you.

“Pathetic…have nothing to say back now?” cocking her head to the side and giving you a glare that made you tense up. She swings her hand down, a solid slap on your clit makes you jolt.

“Awh, does my little whore need something?” a smack to your pussy causes you to yelp and squirm underneath her powerful gaze still chuckling at how desperate you are.

Holy shit. She really wasn’t going to cut you any slack, was she?

Crawling up your body slowly, harshly biting her way up your chest to your neck just to whisper in your ear, “I’m going to make sure you know your place, princess.”

Roughly biting the side of your neck, brutally pinches your nipples, tugging them in a way that would still cause pain even if they weren’t already sore from the previous night.

Wailing at her every touch, she continues to laugh at the anguish you were experiencing, knowing full well that you started this. You were the reason it was even happening.

Moving to straddle your thighs, reaching her hand down and running her middle finger up your slit again to see how much you were enjoying what she was putting you through.

“Oh? Do you enjoy the consequences of your actions? How cute.” pressing her slick covered finger against her thumb, only to pull them apart to see the string that connects her digits together.

Pulling at your restraints again as she licks her fingers clean, making eye contact with you as she does so just to get a reaction, which was you clenching around nothing. Oh, she wants you dead.

“You won’t be getting out of those cuffs, princess. Don’t you understand what you’ve done?” a condescending tone glitters her words as she slides the familiar strap, the one you regularly used, on and tightens it to her waist. You notice there was nothing attached to the other side of it.

This was purely to punish you, she might get some pleasure from her clit rubbing against the leather of the harness but this was solely about you. Your wants. Your needs. What you had instigated last night…you were going to get full force today.

She shimmies her hand underneath you, placing a pillow folded in half under your ass to angle your hips up to the perfect spot for hers to connect.

“You’re going to take what I give you, my desperate little bitch,” spitting into her hand and stroking the strap, smearing her saliva all over it. Oh god, she really wanted you dead.

Legs too far apart to push your thighs together for friction especially with the elevation, trying to squeeze them together despite Momo being between them. You’re at her mercy and hoping that she’ll be nice enough to let you walk out of this bedroom with the ability to speak in coherent sentences. A lovely passing thought.

Scooting closer to you, her knees on either side of your hips, arms hooked underneath your legs as she glides the tip of the strap over your sensitive folds, stinging in sweet bliss as it passes up and down.

“Mmmph…fuck, Momo…please” a hand swings across your chest, smacking your already sore breast hard enough to have you squealing underneath her touch.

“Do you want to try that again?” Another smack to the other tit, another gasp, goosebumps so spread over every part of your skin, nipples hard at the sharp pain that laid into you.

“Mommy…I’m sorry, please…I need you” begging for some kind of release and forgiveness. She has you right where she wants you. Helpless, dripping, and begging.

Momo lets out a laugh and sighs, shaking her head and tsking at you disapproval evident. Her hands reach for your chest, flinching under her while trying to rock your hips in rhythm with the strap grinding into you just enough to cause a persistent ache, slowly building you up again.

“Look at you, my pathetic little slut. Pitiful. So reactive to my touch.” thrusting the toy against you again, tears almost spilling as the knot starts to tighten, needing something more to satiate.

“Fuck” moaned out, trying to arch your back to scoot closer to the pleasure, the only thing that fills your mind, completely taken over by lust as you try to shift your weight into to her. Whine after whine vocalized through a primal urge, pulling at your restraints to try to bring yourself closer to her. Maybe she’ll take the hint.

“Do you want to test me now, my love?” pouted back at you, slapping the strap softly against your swollen pussy. Taunting you, testing you to see how reactive you could get. It was working.

You lurch forward, only to be stopped by the restraints, about 5 inches from Momo’s face, continuing to maneuver the strap over your slit. Your arms are behind you at an angle, shaking as you try to hold yourself up long enough to challenge her dominance.

The intensity of pure lust in her eyes was palpable, intensely thick as she took in your state. Sweaty, whining, heavily breathing, and eager movements gave you away; not that you had the willpower to hide them considering the position you were in.

Suddenly Momo gets up, practically sprinting to the nightstand drawer, pulling it open and grabbing keys before hastily returning to the foot of the bed, and undoing the cuffs around your ankles. Who’s needy now?

Just as you’re about to move, she grabs you and folds you where she wants you. Legs tucked up over her shoulders, strap against your heat, and Momo nipping at your chest. You’re about to explode as she grinds up against your pussy again, torturing you just a little more before she fully commits and bottoms out in you instantly.

Stars cloud your vision and she starts a slow pace, almost slamming into you as you feel the sensitivity from the night prior deep within you. Finally getting the feeling you wanted, losing yourself in the haze of pleasure with Momo on top of you, grunting as she starts to pick up her pace, ever so slightly.

“You don’t cum until I say so, if i even let you, got it?” nodding your head knowing that you won’t be able to hold off much longer if she keeps up what she’s been doing. You practically begged her to behave this way weeks ago and you were finally getting what you wanted.

“Dirty fucking slut. -grunt- Do you really think someone else can fuck you like this?” One of her hands comes up to find its place around your throat as she mercilessly slams into you, adding to the euphoria that was already taking over every sense you had.

“Mommy I’m gonna cu-” her digits find their way to your face, squishing your cheeks forcing you to look her in the eyes, glaring at you as she continues to penetrate you roughly.

“You better fucking not! Desperate fucking whore wanted me to fuck her…-grunt- You needed this didn’t you? Needed me to fuck some sense into you?” Sternly escapes her lips between heavy panting, questioning the motives that lead you to where you are now.

“Is this what you wanted? To be turned into my fuck toy? Want me to cum deep in you? Hmmm? -grunts- Answer me, slut.”

You’ve been sucked into the void of pleasure, trying to form words but it all turns into loud groans as you violently quiver, unsure of how long you can hold the orgasm back. She slides her hand down to your neck from your face, squeezing lightly to hold you into place. Other hand aiding her from your thigh.

Stroking into you, holding you by the throat, she cocks her hand back and slaps your face lightly. Another stroke, another slap, another rhythm to add to the stimulation. Momo keeps this pattern, littering you with light smacks until you being to absolutely crumble beneath her.

“Gonna cum, fuck fuck right there, Mommy…please cum in me” releasing around her on the next slap. Completely fucked out and gushing, she doesn’t stop, even if your grip around her strap is making it hard for her to slam into you savagely.

Soreness builds up even more through her consistency, not giving you a break in the slightest. You were just a sleeve for her, happily accepting the punishment and overstimulation she offered you.

“…fuck, baby wait let me tou-” a particularly hard thrust causes you to completely lose your train of thought, back arched, tears falling and a total mess in mere seconds…all from her. Hirai Momo.

Leaning back, one hand on your thigh, she finally lets you uncurl your legs only to rub harsh circles around your clit, slapping it lightly between her vicious thrusts. Bed frame slamming against the wall at the pure fury in her movements.

“That’s right, cum for me again and again. You only stop when I tell you too, whore.” The sounds emitting from your mouth and cunt are lewd enough to make a pornstar shy. Wailing loudly, vision blurred, and completely overstimulated, your body twitches incessantly. Back involuntarily arching as you lose control from her feral fucking. It sends you into a spiral of divine delight.

“Gonna cum in you so you know your fucking place” picking up her speed again, her clit rubbing on the leather while thrusting her hips into you rabidly.

“Don’t you want that, princess? Don’t you want to leak my cum all fucking day? -fuck fuck fuck-” chasing her own pleasure, feeling her dripping onto you, scooching into you, hips sputtering unevenly before she lets out a string of guttural moans. Breath heavy with a light sheen of sweat layering her skin, muscles clenched as she gets closer to releasing at the thought of cumming deep inside you.

“So deep, Mommy. - so fucking deep - Cum in what’s yours.” through soft pants and almost uncomfortable soreness that hurt so good, you wouldn’t be upset if you felt it tomorrow.

“Fuck!” thrusting one last time before completely falling apart between your thighs. Shaking, uncontrollably bucking her hips into you, her hands are on your calves and her head tilts towards the sky while whine after whine levitates from her lungs.

Reaching back to grab the keys quickly out from the ankle cuffs, careful not to remove the strap from you just yet, she undoes your arm restraints - one by one and finding her place, laying on your chest as she attempts to catch her breath.

Your arms finally free from their cages, you slowly bring them down, wincing at the stiffness and placing them lightly around the back of Momo’s neck. You lightly kiss the top of her head, running your fingers lightly over the skin on her shoulders.

“Was that too much?” your little service top was back to being worried about you, lifting her head and resting her chin on your chest as she meets your eyes, wondering how you were feeling about what just transpired.

“It was perfect, baby. You did so well for me.” soothing her as she laid her head on your chest again, cheek flush against you and arms around you, tightly holding you.

“You know…I think I’d like to do that more. It was kind of hot.” Momo giggles softly at admitting she enjoyed being rough with you.

“I like seeing you so desperate for m-…baby, what are you doing?” ache returns deep within you as she talks about what she enjoyed from the session, hips starting to involuntarily rock as she talked about what pleased her.

Smiling at you in disbelief, she rolled you both over, staying inside you while she sits up on her knees, forcing you with her. Chests pressed together, your arms clutching her close by her neck, as you gently bounce up and down with shaky legs in Momo’s lap.

Hands slide up to your ass, grabbing and tugging at the flesh while she helps your momentum, adoring eyes looking up at you before kissing you passionately as you ride her.

Moaning into her mouth as she guides you to move faster, supporting your weight, thrusting up into you tenderly creating the perfect balance of pleasure through the sharp ache inside you.

“Mommy, -Mmm fuck-, I’m gonna cum again.” whispered into her mouth while gripping her hair tightly trying to put the orgasm off until she asks you for it.

“I love it when you call me that” passionately kissing you before finishing her thought.

“Cum for me, princess. You’ve been such a good girl for me.” that sends you into the wave of euphoria laced love, releasing completely to her again, clinging to her as your body tenses up, moans muffled by her tongue dancing with yours, you fully in her arms unable to hold yourself up.

Momo tilts sideways and lays you down gently on the bed, removing the strap from inside you causing you to gasp at the emptiness and soreness spikes, muscles contract around themselves instead of what she just ruined you with.

Momo giggles, being sure to bring the strap into the bathroom to deal with later before returning with a damp washcloth to wipe you off and a bottle of water, finding you already fast asleep curled up in her spot on the bed.

Smiling victoriously, she cleans you up without taking you out of your resting state, placing the water bottle on the nightstand next to you for when you wake up from your peaceful nap.

Taking her phone off the charger and grabbing her red silk robe, she slipped into it and quietly made her way to the kitchen. It’s still relatively early in the day, breakfast being on her mind as she starts the coffee pot, when her phone rings. She answers it on speaker when she sees the caller ID.

“Hi Sana.”

“Hey! How did it go?” Her voice rings loudly through the speaker as Momo grabs a mug and rolls her eyes, knowing that’s the only reason she would be calling this early.

“It went just fine, thanks for asking” awkwardly chuckling at how nosy her best friend was.

“Sooooo you did what we talked about?” inquiring further for details of the sexcapade. Momo turns beat red and puts her hands over her face to cover her embarrassment.

“Sana! I’m not going to tell you what happened! If she finds out you and I were scheming…I truly don’t even know what she’d do! She can’t know that you told me about what she said to you! ” exclaimed through awkward laughs.

“Scheming, hmm?” coming from behind Momo, causing her to freeze in her tracks, face turning bright red, holding her breath as Sana cackles on the other end of the phone.

“…so I have Sana to thank for the confidence boost you needed?” sarcastically said while walking over to her and leaning against her, still having a little trouble standing on your own. You kiss Momo’s cheek before starting to make two cups of coffee while she stands there in shock.

Sana is having a laughing fit on the other side of the phone, not being able to contain herself - entertained by the idea of how embarrassed Momo was and the reveal of you and Sana cooking up a plan to get you exactly what you wanted.

“Thank you, Sana!” yelled out into the kitchen so she could hear it over her own laugh, bringing you to chuckle along with her at how well everything actually worked.

“You’re welcome, Y/n! I want the details later!” Swiftly hanging up to leave you both alone with each other.

“If I knew all you needed was a confidence boost, I would’ve told her what I wanted ages ago instead of trying to convince you to be rough with me, baby.” pinching her ass, winking and then going back to your shared bedroom.

“Wait…wait what?! You told Sana…and then she tol- oh, you bitch! You’re playing a twisted little game!” playfully chasing after you, just to kiss you deeply before returning to cook you your favorite breakfast.

Thanks again for reading! 🖤

[drunknillawafer]

right down the line: zuko x firebender!reader | part 4

You grew up close to the Royal Family due to your father's position as a General, but you ran away from home after the agni kai against your best friend. Now, you've joined the Gaang and plan on doing your part in ending the 100-year war.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

helloo here is part 4... thank u for the support so far! i can feel my writing getting better... hopefully you guys like this part hehe... the next one is going to be so... angst... so... zuko... so stay tuned! again i do not own these characters or the atla world >.< enjoy! about 2,491 words & not really proofread at the end sorryyy

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

It was unbearable those first few months, before the move to the Earth Kingdom village. Previous defiance of locking myself in my chambers was a reactive solution to a persistent problem: The Fire Nation. No, I would need a more permanent answer to my problems if I craved peace of mind.

Since the moment Zuko’s screams embedded themselves into my brain, constantly replaying in a cycle of distress, I had not been able to sleep. I would lay down on the large bed with a wine-colored duvet and matching pillow-sheets, hoping the softness would swallow me whole. Take me to a different place than my home.

A lot of things would stop me from the bliss of sleeping.

One of them being my father. He was never one to share a lot with his daughter, let alone exchange kind words or attentive praises. He’s an important man with serious tasks, as he would put it. He doesn’t have time to watch my new fire-bending move or sword progress or whatever it was he most definitely didn’t care for. Over the years, I grew accustomed to our silent agreement. Happily, even. He’ll provide for me, give me everything I ask for, and allow me the freedom of my personal life if I excel in everything that it is I do, surpassing the royal heir’s skills in bending, swords, and education. I suppose it’s why he didn’t care for my special relationship with Zuko. He’d only see it as a move to get ahead in life.

It's what made him such a good General to the Fire Lord.

It shouldn’t have been surprising that he would force me to go to the agni kai. It shouldn’t knock the wind out of my lungs every time I relive the memory of realization that I’d be watching Zuko.

But it does. I couldn’t wrap my head around why. Why did he make me witness such an awful thing?

When sleep did come, I was rewarded with solace. Dreams of flashbacks, a time when I foolishly believed my father cared about the only child he had. There is this one recurring dream that I close my eyes and wish to come every night when I attempt to rest.

The first thing I see is the shamrock grass, crunching beneath my feet. Slowly, the environment pieces together as I fall deeper into my slumber. I see the stone as I walk forward, trading in the pasture for sleek, grey pavement.

Three more steps, and I reach the pond I know so well. This is when comfort finds its way back into my body. I take a deep breath and sigh; I am at the Royal Palace’s turtle duck pond.

Zuko walks up beside me in my dreamland, interlocking his fingers with mine. We stand side-by-side in silence, soaking in the seconds we are in each other’s hands. For a moment, I can believe this is my reality and there is no waking up from this.

Tears form in my eyes and the world around me is suddenly becoming foggy. The green washing away with the grey, becoming blurs in the distance. I can only see Zuko, and he is looking at me, and we are so beautiful.

I wake with a gasp from the one bliss in the round ‘o’clock torture I receive and begin the cycle again. Sometimes I lay back down and wish to return, other times I just lay awake and contemplate what I’m going to do about the pain. The truth.

Years of propaganda washed away in a single decision of the brutal man that calls himself my father. I can finally see clearly. The Fire Nation is a plague to the world, we’re not sharing our greatness. We’re a disgrace to life, and we deserve every bit of shame at our doorsteps.

I’m ashamed to be from this nation, and a fire-bender. A gift that could be warmth is destruction and chaos and terror. Who would ever want to be all those things when we could choose to be soft?

What is one girl’s opinion against a whole nation. A melancholy, depressed, broken-hearted girl at that. They’d never take me seriously. I’d have to try my chances with the outside world. Maybe I could hide my bending, pose as a swordswoman, find a group of some kind. A group who sees things as I do.

My body relaxes at the thought of a solid plan. I don’t know how I’m going to manage it but, I’m leaving the Fire Nation. And I am not looking back.

Jeong-Jeong’s headquarters were built on a piece of land peeking through a steady river. It was a small, tan-colored shack with many similar structures built around it. It was a sort of community of Fire Nation deserters who did not wish to be found.

Katara, Aang, Sokka, and I were taking a pit-stop here to let Master Jeong-Jeong teach the Avatar how to fire-bend.

While the rest of them were by the river, fishing, water-bending, or learning from the Master, I was alone, pacing back and forth from tree to tree deeper into the forest, wondering what to do.

If things here don’t work out for Aang, who would be left to teach him? Fire Nation deserters are not common and those who are fire-bending masters less so. My original plans no longer worked. It wasn’t about hiding my identity and being with the Freedom Fighters anymore. Now, my mind is set on helping Aang take down the Fire Lord.

I just kept stalling it. I hadn’t practiced my bending in front of people for years and suddenly I had to help a twelve-year-old take down an empire. Maybe Jeong-Jeong could do it for me, maybe not.

But one thing was clear: it was time to come clean to my friends. The days keep moving and the nights keep passing, and I’m becoming a part of their group just as quickly. I was never meant to keep this all to myself.

They aren’t like Jet. They can handle it, they can see. They would understand because they’re not here to cause more pain, harm, or war. They know me, they know I want to have peace as much as they do. The worst thing that could happen was I’d be off on my own again, but at least this way, I’d be honest.

Walking back in the direction of Jeong-Jeong’s hide out, I spotted Katara and Sokka by the river on their own. They were giving Aang his own space with his teacher, a few hundred feet away.

“Hey, Y/N, where’ve you been?” Katara asks, as she practices a bending move she’s working on. The water moves gracefully knowing it’s safe in her hands.

“Just… over there…” Awkwardly, I gesture with my hand to the forest.

Holding his fishing pole, Sokka raises his eyebrow at my poor attempt at a smooth reply. “Right… over there.”

I sit down on a log stump between Sokka and Katara and stare at the water for a moment. Is it really necessary that I do this? Do they have to know, I question in my mind.

Yes, of course, the sane part of my brain answers. Anything to stop the Fire Lord, anything to put an end to all of this. Remember? My conscious tells me. I do.

“I have to tell you something.” I finally say.

Sokka and Katara glance at each other, confusion radiating out of their eyes.

“What is it, Y/N?” Katara asks. She allows the water to flow back into the river, pausing her bending practice to sit down on the log stump next to me. She nods in encouragement. Sokka’s standing on my left, waiting patiently for my words.

“I want to start with, I didn’t mean any harm by this. I made the decision a long time ago to hide when I was hurt and lost,” I pause. Sokka tilts his head, still confused. “When I was thirteen, I saw my best friend get burned by his own father in an agni kai. An agni kai is a traditional fire-bender duel and is won when one opponent burns the other. We were 13.” Trembling, I let the words come out. “It shattered me. I was never the same.”

“So, you’re fire nation?” Sokka asks. I look up at him and see his face. A new kind of hurt was washed on it.

“Yeah. And a fire-bender.” Looking back at the river, I confess. “I ran away from home a few months after it happened, when my father and I moved to an Earth Kingdom village. The same village you helped save, Sokka.” The compliment does little to distract him from the truth I just spilled. “I found Jet and the Freedom Fighters, and they helped me. They gave me a bed, food, and a home. But then Jet turned out to be…” Katara winces. It goes without saying how my former leader betrayed his values. “You guys know he would never accept me, so I hid my true self. And I don’t want to keep secrets anymore. We have the chance to stop the Fire Lord here, and I want to do everything I can to help. As someone born in the Fire Nation, it’s my duty to help restore our honor.”

The two siblings remain quiet for a moment, processing the information. “You’re a victim too.” Katara is the first to speak. “They’re just as violent with their own.” She puts a hand on my shoulder, comforting me after rambling out my past. Sokka walks away, barely letting the dirt and sticks make noise under his steps.

“Sokka!” Katara calls out to him. She gets ready to get up on her two feet, but I stop her.

“I’ll go.” I reassure. She nods and sits back down, watching her friend and her brother walk away.

After we’re out of Katara’s sight, Sokka stops in his tracks with a couple of feet in between us. I want to give him the space he needs.

Sokka turns around, his eyes instantly meeting mine. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” He says, calming the stampede of anxiety in my veins.

“I’m sorry too.” Softly, I reply.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I… was so used to hiding. It’s my first time telling anyone since I left.” I explain. His arms are folded, creating an imaginary barrier between us.

“I should know that the girl I like is Fire Nation! I’ve never liked anyone from that place!” He exasperates. We both let the blood rush to our cheeks about the nature of his feelings.

We hadn’t really talked about it since he told me back at Aunt Wu’s village. There were small things. Miniature movements and gestures that told me things had changed. Like when he brought me a rock that reminded him of my eye color or brushing his hand against mine when we walk side-by-side. Sokka and I could train in swords while Katara teaches Aang what she knows. He’s learned some of my sparring tricks, I’d have to switch it up on him soon. But it was diverting. Being around him felt like all the molecules in my body lit up. At the sight of his ocean eyes, I’d turn into a softer version of myself. One I lost amid the chaos.

“Well, it’s not like I’ve been there recently! Maybe that’s why you didn’t detect me!” I say, keeping it playful. He shoots a direct glance at me, letting me know he’s being serious. I drop the jokes. “I hope we can still be… okay, though.”

“We’re okay, it’s just going to take some adjusting. I mean, you used to be our enemy… But I trust you, ever since Jet.” He uncrosses his arms and plants them by his side. “Is there anything else? I’m not going to find out you have a pet dragon, right?”

“No,” I reply, walking toward him. “Not that I know of anyway.” My footsteps stop a few inches away and I smile up at him. The tension from my confession has dissipated into the air, becoming part of the clouds, and now there’s just a little bit of space between us.

“Good, I couldn’t handle that.” A smile is fighting to erupt on his face.

I swear he’s about to lean in when-

Katara screams in pain from the direction of the river. Our bubble of infatuation is popped, and we dash back to Jeong-Jeong’s hideout.

As we rush in, I see Katara holding her hands close to her chest and a fearful Aang. Jeong-Jeong’s face says it all. He burned her.

“Look at what you did! I told you we shouldn’t have come here!” Sokka’s overprotective nature kicks in. He runs to his sister’s side, but she hides her hands away from him. Probably to protect the wound and… Aang.

“Katara, I’m sorry!” Aang pleads.

In a crying hurry, she runs away. Sokka motions to follow her but I stop him. “I’ll go, you calm down. Be easy on him.”

He huffs at me. “Fine.”

☆

Katara’s leaning over the river when I first spot her. Her hands are in the water, flashing a white light as her cries soften. She doesn’t notice me.

I step closer and closer as I watch her witness the glow. Once the light dims and she pulls her hands out, I’m close enough to speak.

“That’s a healing ability.” I let her know. My voice catches her by surprise, but it doesn’t affect her any more than her new-found talent. “Water-benders are gifted with the ability to heal wounds. It’s like a medicine.” I explain.

“How do you know this?” She asks. I sit down next to her as she’s resting on her ankles, both of us facing the continuous river. If we followed it in the other direction, we could find Jeong-Jeong’s hideout again.

“My father always told me to fight your enemy, you must know your enemy. So, I learned a lot about the rest of the elements. Your basic aristocratic education at home. Didn’t someone teach you?” I question.

“No.” She looks down at her hands. “My mother died in a Fire Nation raid. They took all our water-benders.” The pain contorts her face. I see.  

“Is that why Sokka reacted like that?”

“Yeah.” She nods.

“Oh.” Seconds of silence pass, letting our recent exchange process in our minds. I attempt to make her feel better. “Water can heal, it’s lucky. It’s ethereal. All fire seems to do is destroy.”

“It’s powerful.” Katara says.

“He didn’t mean to hurt you, yaknow.” I defend the young Avatar. “Without proper control, it can get out of your hands. Then, all you can do is sit and stand. It’s not like the other elements.”

“I understand. Maybe Jeong-Jeong was right, maybe Aang isn’t ready to fire-bend.”

“I don’t think he is.”

[chuusins]

what about xie lian, hua cheng, and the reader on the bed together which turns into a tickle fight or pillow fight? i think it would be a cute scenario :) sorry if i also sound awkward, its my first time sending an ask

I AM SO SORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO ANSWER THIS ASK 🙏🙏🙏 i had no idea how i could write this,, especially since i stopped writing full blown fics my writing has degraded A LOT in my opinion, so i'll be trying to write fics on my Wattpad acc now (hrts4kuniz). i just decided to do hc of what i think hua cheng & xie lian would do in a pillow fight; i hope that's okay..

hua cheng

i feel like he would, at first, actually sorta know what a pillow fight is- you'd still have to explain it to him.

after explaining it to him, he would definitely like to try it out with you or xie lian some time when he's not busy

in a pillow fight, he'd be a bit aggressive but would not hurt xie lian or you at all with the pillows and would 100% go easy on you and let you win <3

xie lian

i imagine he would know what a pillow fight is,, and would probably want to have one with you (relive his sweet childhood memories ☺️)

depending on how he's feeling, he may or may not go easy on you.. he's also sure not to hurt you at all with the pillows (like hua cheng)

he's such a sweetheart 🥹🥹🥹

i hope this was ok, n once again; my writing skills have degraded and i'll start writing a fic or smth to try and re-improve (im not sure if that's a word..) my writing. I've also been a bit busy doing absolutely nothing 🥹.. thank u for reading this, and you can find me on wattpad @ hrts4kuniz