#the two most opposite songs on earth

[cuntvonkrolock]

i find it soooooo funny that my two favourite musicals of all time are tanz der vampire and newsies. i literally could not have picked a more different pair if i tried.

[drgnflyteabox]

can't get much better

pairing: ghost / simon riley x fem reader summary: simon is forced to take some time off - he makes the most of it. tags/warnings: very soft, pregnant sex, size difference, softdom!simon- he's a masculine man who doesn't let his lady lift a finger :'), oral (f), one (1) butthole kiss, dacryphilia, daddy kink (sigh), minor minor foot stuff, allusions to injuries and chronic pain, title from an adrianne lenker song w.c: 2.5k

You try very hard not to think about it, but it's hard not to notice how massive he is.

Even shirtless, he somehow looks bigger, muscles flush with heat and exertion under the sun. He toils and breathes hard like an ox, working while you sit on the porch wrapped in his big flannel. Wearing his clothes is like being swaddled in a blanket straight out of the dryer, warm and nostalgic and syrupy with love. It leaves you feeling some type of tender. You're afraid of that feeling sometimes, of how soft it is and how soft it makes you. He could ask anything of you, and you'd yield like he was pressing his thumb into a bruised peach.

You have.

"How are you two?" Simon is so quiet when he wants to be. One would think he'd clomp like a horse with how big he is, but he can float like dust. It used to startle you, but you've been sinking deeper into the memory foam mattress of this life with him and it doesn't anymore.

"Tired, even though I'm not doing anything," you squint at him through the late afternoon sun. It haloes him like an angel.

"You're growing my baby in there, love. That's not nothing," his voice is rough, it always will be. But it's rough now like earth and soil rather than rough with pain and smoke the way he'd sounded when you met him.

You're feeling especially nostalgic, it seems, not like it's hard here. His hand is warm on your belly.

"I guess so," you let him pet you for a moment. Your stomach is swollen but not as big as it'll get, just enough to veto pants. A few months to go still. "How's your back?"

"Argh," Simon says, taking a heavy seat next to you. Dismissive and yet he groans a little when his muscles unclench. Classic.

You slowly reach up and nudge him until he's facing the field opposite to you, face toward the golden afternoon sun and his back to you. He's never asked you to do this, to take care of him, but it's your favourite thing in the world.

His back is always rock-hard no matter how many times you take your knuckles and fingers to it. Just a condition of a hard life lived for him, countless falls and impacts and pushing through injuries. There's a slight slant to his spine now that isn't there in the pictures he's shown you of his youth, but the stiffness is the same. You might've said he was born to be a soldier, had you not known him as a father. He could do both, but - you'd never say this out loud - you were privately grateful for this injury. It wouldn't take him out forever, but the recovery would be long. Long enough to get the homestead started, to get you pregnant.

Simon would never be completely still. This was compromise. Sweet compromise, a life started and time with him you could think back on the next time he shipped out. Making the most of things, he would always say. Making the time count.

"That feels good, love" he groans. Bending forward slowly, relaxing, he's like an aloof stallion finally accepting an apple from your hand. Acquiescing. Showing you his back. It's trust, and you savour it.

"I bet it does," you tease back, just a little. Your fingers are nimble and attuned to his specific aches and pains. "Are you hungry for dinner?"

"I'm hungry for something," he turns, slowly, hands reaching for your thickened waist. Huge, work-roughened hands. War-roughened hands, holding you like a delicate egg. Sometimes it feels like he's the only thing that holds you together; all your pieces, everywhere, until he's holding you.

Kissing him is a contact sport. It's his hands moving, cupping your breast and then your pussy through your panties, your own hands wrapping around his broad shoulders like he's the only thing keeping you from drowning. It's open-mouthed, breathing into each other. Impossibly, you get softer, melting like ice on a hot day. 

Before you can lean back on the bench, he stands and lifts you with him. He's still hot from the day, damp with sweat, pushing you into the house while kissing you still.

"Simon-" you start, with no goal in mind. "Please."

"I've got you, love," he murmurs. He always does. Before you know it, you're laid back onto the plush armchair in your living room. Simon knows this is the most comfortable place for your newly-aching body. Affection swells in your chest uncontrollably and comes out through your eyes leaking down your face. Sure, pregnancy makes people emotional - but you're still embarrassed, touched by how considerate he is.

"It's alright, shh," he thumbs the tears at the corner of your eyes. His cock tents his work pants, aroused by them. "Let me take care of you."

The next words he murmurs are into your cunt, right over your panties, tongue laving over the already-wet fabric. "Just need your daddy, don't you?" You clench in tandem with his words, hot all over, skin prickling. He pushes your dress up, bunching it right under your tits.

It's reminiscent of how you spent the first night with him, on the very first day you'd met. Hurried, his big head between your thighs and clothes hanging off you still while he made you fall apart.

He's fucking good at it, too. Pulls your panties to the side and builds up the pressure with which he sucks on your clit, softly and then harsher until you shake. You've been extra horny lately, always wet around him and always so swollen. The scrape of his five-o-clock shadow against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh is what tips you over, clamping his head tightly and shouting your orgasm into the heady summer air.

"That all it takes?" Simon grins, chin wet, fingers moving from your hips to your pussy to gently rub along your slit.

"Give me a second, please," it's humbling how quickly you come nowadays. Quick and intense. Fireworks.

You set your foot on his shoulder and he turns towards it, kissing your ankle. Patience is rare with him, something come about only since you confirmed your pregnancy. You miss being overwhelmed by him, miss the nights where he'd guide you over the edge one, two, three times in succession.

He pushes now, just a little, not waiting for your go-ahead but watching you intently. His fingers spread your cunt in a V and he puffs a breath on your sensitive clit. You jump. He grins again, leaning down to lick you, using one hand to hold both your legs under your knees and push them until they meet the soft bump of your belly.

"Hold them there," he says. It's spoken not to you, but to your hole, which he spears his tongue into. You obey as you're helpless to do, holding your legs up and giving him an unimpeded view. It's more than vulnerable, it's not only baring yourself to him completely but giving him the authority to do what he wants. What you need.

Simon eats you out like it's a kiss, slurping you down and letting you leak until the evidence of your weakness to him is all over you. Your legs are wet, and it drips down onto your other hole. He pushes a thumb into your cunt, dipping it in and out.

"Needed me, did'ya? Watched me all day," he's so smug, sometimes. His lips find your bare foot, kissing your sole. "Been wet like this all day?" His other hand finds the meat of your asscheek, spreading you open further, letting the split of you open to him. He leans down, kissing your inner thigh, then your other hole. You whine and clench your pussy around his thumb. 

"So needy," he murmurs, finally finally moving back to your clit. Flicks his tongue over it, something that might've been teasing before but is intense now. Your hands tighten against your legs, head thrown back.

"Oh please- Simon!" You shout again, abs drawing up, stars in your eyes. "Ahh- I'm-"

"I know, honey," his lips suction again around the hard little pebble of your clit, eating like a man starved. 

This is how he likes you. Losing control, coming apart, helplessly vocal against the onslaught of his tongue. No matter how many times you've done this, it never gets old. The release almost always makes you cry, especially intense like this. You're wet all over, face and cunt and legs. He is, too.

"You still with me, love?" He pets your flank like you're a horse.

"Yes," but that's not what he wants.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, daddy."

"Good girl," and fuck if that doesn't always fill you with warm fuzzy energy. Wipes your brain, keeps you soft and floaty.

He guides you up and out of the armchair, lifts you into his arms when your legs shake too much. That electric feeling is still coursing through you, tingles in your extremities as they come back to life.

The hand he strokes over you is half affectionate, half proprietary. You've been his since the first time he laid eyes on you.

He reminds you of it as he sets you down gently on the bed, your hair a halo around your head and hands reaching to his face where you pull him down for a kiss. Hands find his shirt, pulling it off you, and then the dress. Fingertips touch the headboard, your arms stretching up, making room for him. Slips your panties down your legs.

It's a lingering, indulgent kiss. Breathing each others air, gasping into his mouth, he puts his elbows by your head and lays as much weight down as he can without cramping your full belly. He's as vocal as you, groaning and rutting like a dog.

"Ready for me, sweet girl?" He leans out of the kiss, sitting back on his heels. You nod, desperate and pulsing between the legs again like you didn't just come twice.

"Daddy's gonna take care of you, don't you worry," he rearranges you like a doll, turning you to your side and getting between your legs. A pillow is tucked under your belly, and he tests your flexibility by holding your leg tight to the length of his body. Your hamstring burns a little with it.

A hand holds your knee, another to your waist. His jeans scrape against your sensitive skin.

You focus on little details. His scar, touching his eyebrow and splitting through his nose, ending down by his jaw. The knuckles on his fingers holding your knee, and how rough the pads of his fingers feel on your waist. This man has never had soft hands in his life. Those same hands capable of so much force, so much violence, the very same that hold you and guide you. A shepherd, you his lamb.

The weeping head of his cock kisses your hole, catching there and traveling up. He taps it against your clit until you're tensing, whining, needy again. Tears down your cheeks.

He steadies you, pets your waist, guides his cock inside and it feels like you can breathe again. His mouth laves hot kisses over your ankle, the sole of your foot again, reverent and controlling all at once. The stretch burns - it always does, and maybe always will. Simon is just so big, thick all around and the mushroom head of him could always bump your cervix if he's not careful.

He's careful now, but only just. You can sense his control fraying, his hips driving forward steadily but his thighs tensing and his grip getting meaner. This is your favourite part. Watching him sweat, breathe hard, taking his pleasure in you.

"Yeah-" he cuts himself off with a long, drawn out groan. Deep, from the bottom of his belly and out. "Already so full of me, aren't ya? Can't get full enough."

You plead with your sounds, words out of your grasp. Your hands clutch at the sheets but it isn't enough. He's solid, he's your anchor, but he's losing himself in your cunt and you're free falling.

"Play with your tits for me," he commands, pumping faster. You're reflexively tightening around him, clit jumping for attention, squeaking each time he lets himself in as deep as possible and touches the mouth of your cervix.

Sunlight slowly fades on the bed, the last golden rays escaping out the window as you're bathed in dusk. 

There's nothing to do but obey, hands finding your swollen breasts and squeezing. They've been sore and huge, like that week before you get your period only it's been a couple months. None of your bras fit anymore.

Simon appreciates it, he loves it. Has you cooking for him with your tits out, nipples peaked and pussy leaking. They bounce, now, stopped only by your hands pinching and twisting. It's insane - no one in the world could replicate the feeling. No artist, no musician. Electricity zips from your breasts down to your clit and shit - you might come just like this, untouched, just full of your man and fondling yourself.

"Fuck, I can feel you squeezing me. Fucking," he pants, leaning over you, bending your leg. "Pinching my dick, sweetheart. Your pussy's so fucking good."

The orgasm begins in your toes, tingling. Your muscles tighten, drawing up, up, towards your cunt, which is making obscene sounds around him.

Simon sees the signs, sees your eyes rolling and your body going taut. He abandons your leg in favour of rubbing your clit with two big fingers quickly, up and down.

"That's it, sweetheart, come all over my cock. Go on," his voice is a snarl, barely distinguishable as human, beastly. "Be good for daddy.”

It's like the crescendo of an orchestra, like a summer afternoon in august, like waking up without a clogged nose after being sick, it's - really fucking good. You're near sobbing, crying out his name, abandoning your tits to reach for him desperately. He meets you halfway, shuddering his own orgasm into you. The press of his hips against yours is better than buttered toast, the delicate press of his chest against yours as he lets your leg go is bliss.

"Si-imon," you slur, hands on his cheeks. He laughs and kisses your forehead.

"What's that, sweet girl?"

"I love you," you cry a little more then, feeling him pull out and lay next to you. You're boneless.

"I love you too," his arm reaches across you, pulling you into him. "Both of you." Hand on your belly again.

"That was insane," you pant. He barks a laugh against your hair. "I'm serious."

"I know you are, love," he kisses your forehead, petting your stomach. You can tell it's meaning, can feel the gratefulness behind the kiss. He's saying thank you, for staying with him, for making him a father. Your hand finds his, squeezing back a wordless reply. Of course, it says.

<3

[bewarethecircles]

After a vacation in Alpha Centauri, Gabriel and Beelzebub come back to earth and move in together. They proceed to be the worst and most baffling neighbors anyone in the neighborhood has ever experienced. 

They introduced themselves as Bee and Jim, but immediately started laughing about it, so people are pretty sure those aren't their real names. 

Neither of them seem to have jobs, but they must be rich, because their house is massive and they're always wearing fancy clothes, and their wallets are bursting with money. Maybe they’re in the mafia?

Speaking of fancy clothes, “Jim” is always wearing designer suits. There is an ongoing game where people attempt to take a picture of him in any other clothes. One time, an enterprising teenager went so far as to sneak over in the middle of the night to look into his bedroom (hoping he’d be in pajamas), and saw him still in a suit, Standing on Top of the Bed, eyes wide open and Smiling Brightly. (Gabriel has not gotten the hang of sleeping yet.) (The teenager refuses to go near the house ever again.)

The short one, “Bee,” is consistently trailed by flies. This is alarming to everyone. They say that they're a “fly-keeper,” but people are pretty sure that's not a thing. Do they carry rotting meat around or something?

Bee also seems to be constantly changing appearances. One day they have a buzz cut, the next day their hair goes to their mid-back. Their eyes are a different colour every time you see them. People have set up cameras to take pictures of them on different days, and upon comparing them they are Definitely almost 6 inches taller this week. Even their facial features shift. 

It gets to the point where people decide Jim must just have multiple partners, and be lying about it. (“Multiple partners that all look similar and are never seen together?” the opposition will point out. When asked if they have a better theory, they can never answer.)

The two of them will have romantic moments Anywhere, including standing in the middle of the highway staring into each others eyes. By all rights they should have been run over, but in a bizarre coincidence every car in the area ran out of fuel and stopped moving at that exact moment. People want to blame Jim for it (he did make a strange hand movement, after all), but that would just be absurd.

They use the absolute worst pet names for each other. A list of overheard ones is being recorded. “My rotten cabbage?” “My hell-bringer?” “Dearest packet of crisps??” 

You cannot let them notice that you're disgusted by their lovey-doveyness. They will either get exponentially more cringey, or straight up insult you until you run away crying. Or both. 

“Everyday” by Buddy Holly will be audible to the whole block at all times. Do they know other songs exist? Don't they get bored of this one?? Why is it so loud???

There’s a statue of Jim in the front yard. Its 20 feet tall and definitely a HOA violation, but people are too scared to mention it. Both Bee and Jim will come out at different times and spend hours staring at it dreamily. 

People would hate them, but ever since they moved in the weather has been perfect, crime is at an all time low, and there’s little trucks that go around selling hot chocolate, and those things Probably cant be because of them, but still...

Plus, Jim doesn’t understand how money works at all, so he’ll give you $300 for a bag of chips. It's endearing, even if he is sometimes a jerk.

Bee does seem to know how money works, but they’ll frequently pay even more than Jim, especially if the person seems overworked and the place is under-staffed. They say they have experience with it.

After a month of them living there, most of the neighborhood is in a group chat created to discuss the two of them. Beelzebub is secretly in the chat, and reads their favourite theories to Gabriel. 

A rumour starts going around that they're an angel and a demon in disguise, but no one can agree which one is which. 

Beelzebub is the one who started the rumour. 

If anyone writes a fic with any of this by all means tag me I'd love to see it!!

[sheerfreesia007]

Recipe of a Confession

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Word count: 1,055

Content warnings: Fluff

Summary: You and Lee Know are cooking for the boys tonight to help get everyone together and calmed down after a busy hectic week. What happens when the recipe calls for a confession that you’ve been craving for your best friend?

Aein: Lover

The kitchen is warm due to the heat from the stove where Minho stands stirring the large pot of stew that the two of you had decided to make for dinner with the guys tonight. You’re standing at the kitchen island in front of the cutting board chopping away at the pile of vegetables that you both had picked at the grocery store earlier. Music softly plays over your bluetooth speaker and you can’t help but smile as your hips sway to the beat of the song.

You love cozy comfortable moments like these with Minho, when the two of you are able to just exist together to get a singular task done. It’s like a calming balm over your normally hectic life that keeps you up and running most days. Your time spent with Minho is almost like a reset button for your sanity and you cherish these moments.

Your friendship with Minho was something that you held dear to your heart, it was something that you had nurtured together and had grown over the years into something beautiful. It had started so passionate and fiery and only settled to a low simmer but just as much as intensity as when it first started.

Minho always seemed to understand exactly what you needed without you having to verbalize it and if it was in his power to give it to you he would without hesitation. And while Minho was able to completely understand you without you needing to tell him you were the opposite, you preferred him to talk to you about whatever he needed. You made him break down his walls that he liked to put up and open up to you in a way that was so intimate that furthered the bond that the two of you had.

You had suspected that you were in love with Minho not long after you had started your friendship during his first world tour that had pulled him far away from you and your comfort. Just like the start of your friendship where it was intense and quick, your love for him had formed just as swiftly.

That first tour had been rough on both of you since you had just started your relationship and on the eve of his return back to Seoul when he video called you after their last show to celebrate with you it was then that you realized that no matter how quickly it had happened you had fallen in love with the man. It was like a warm weight blanket that just overpowered you and settled over your whole being. While he was excitedly retelling you of their last powerfully charged concert with glassy eyes you had realized that you would move heaven and earth for this man. That was how you knew you were in it for the long haul with him.

And while you hadn’t verbalized that you were in love with, like with everything else he still seemed to pick up on it. He was sweet with you whenever you both met up and yes, he could be a huge tease but there was a sweet undertone to every interaction he had with you. You had grown comfortable with how your relationship had developed and grown ever since your realization but the only thing that you hadn’t learned was how he actually felt about you, he never broke down that last wall between the two of you. You had a suspicion that he felt the same way with you as you did him, but you craved that validation, that confirmation of his words that he was in love with you. But you could be patient with him just like always, you never rushed him because you knew eventually he’d open up to you completely and wholly.

“Aein, can you bring over some of the potatoes?” Minho asked as he turned his head to the side to speak over his shoulder to you. You smiled softly at the nickname he had been using since that first tour, lover, the name he had chosen to call you made your body heat with delight and your heart would flutter every time you heard him say in that soft tone that he reserved just for you.

Walking over to him while holding the cutting board up you smiled softly as you came to his side. He looked at you with soft eyes and a softer smile gracing his lips. You nudge him slightly with your hip and he dramatically gasped as he stepped away for a moment before quickly moving to crowd up against your side with a wicked grin taking over his smile.

“What’s the magic word?” you asked teasingly and Minho chuckled softly before he turned to face the large pot he was manning.

“I love you, duh.” he responded with a wide beaming grin on his face. Your head turned to him slowly as your own smile pulled your cheeks up high on your face as your eyes sparkled at his confession. You slowly slide the chopped potatoes into the pot for him and then turn to press a loud kiss to his cheek causing him to giggle softly at your action.

“I love you too.” you say when you pull away from his cheek and he stirs the pot once more incorporating the potatoes into the stew. You move to go back to the kitchen island but Minho’s arm comes up and wraps around your waist tugging you back into his side before he turns his head and presses a soft sweet lingering kiss to your lips that makes your heart nearly burst within your chest at the love pouring out between the two of you.

You hum softly against his lips and Minho responds with a smile against yours. The love that the two of you had nurtured and grown together was now something so beautiful and all consuming that you couldn’t help but be proud of it. You press your lips firmly against his once more in a sweet ending to your first kiss before you turn and move back to the kitchen island. You nearly jump out of your skin when you feel his hand harshly grab your ass as you walk away and he chuckles proudly as he hears your startled yelp.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken

[luvymelody]

NAME : katsuki bakugou , boku no hero academia

SONG : apple cider , beabadoobee

SUMMARY : y/n gets hit with a quirk, making their mostly stoic facade disappear, turning into a more clingy, more flirty in a way? wc : 1.8k

(y/ns quirk is practically earth-bending. its not really important tho so like dont worry)

(set around the time where they have dorms and hero license)

y/n smiled in the chair as they sat, patiently waiting as they tapped their feet on the floor and recovery girl looked around their figure, looking for any injuries.

"so, i don't see any injuries. i only see the personality change."

"they are okay though, right?"

bakugou asked, arms crossed as he leaned on the wall near the door of the nurse's office as he looked down to the ground, his eyes gazing up to the smiling y/n.

"yeah they are. i believe it's made them the opposite personality they are, simple thing really- it'll last for about a week. for now, i think it's best you act like everything's normal. say yes to whatever they say. i also don't believe they'll remember anything the next week-"

-

"katsuki!"

"yeah i know, idiot!"

bakugou yelled out, using his quirk to jump up into the air to avoid the villains running to tackle him, using his explosions on the villain coming his way. y/n stomped the ground as the ground made a crumbled path towards a group of villains, sending them into the air and todoroki froze them in air using his ice.

there was a villain hiding in the alleyway near the fight, watching his group being beaten by just three measly high schoolers. yeah they might be in the hero course but they were still teenagers!

"i think.. we're done.."

y/n breathed out, their hands resting on their hips as the two other guys went to stand with y/n, walking towards them.

"god, i did most of the work."

bakugou said, panting slowly as todoroki breathed out ice. y/n glanced around the area, seeing civilians taking photos of them on the sidelines of the streets.

"katsuki, your turn to take photos with civilians."

"hah? no way."

"me and shoto did it yesterday, your turn."

"argh, you're useless!"

bakugou yelled out, begrudgingly stomping his way to the civilians as they squealed, hitting each other and fixing themselves up in their phone cameras.

y/n watched as bakugou walked away, admiring him in a way. y/n's class saw them as the quiet, but powerful and strong person. y/n didn't mind it as todoroki was the same. but rather, y/n admired bakugou. even if they were friends and seemed to be considered 'close'. it's not like you can't admire your friends, right?

y/n's eyes glided back towards todoroki, but then suddenly a dash of colour came into their view, as they looked towards it and turns out, there was a villain aiming for bakugou, who didn't see, still walking towards the civilians as they didn't notice the villain either, too focused on bakugou.

without thinking, y/n's feet dashed towards bakugou, pushing him out of the way as the villain's hand latched onto their face, their eyes fluttering shut as y/n passed out on the ground.

bakugou stumbled forward, turning around and seeing y/n on the floor, their eyes closed and the villain standing over them. bakugou respected y/n in a way, they were strong, stronger than the whole class, even bakugou could admit. there was admiration that bakugou felt for y/n, he was also fearful of possible feelings that he felt for y/n, pushing them down.

"..who do you think you are, you villain?!"

bakugou yelled, his hands behind him as he launched himself towards the villain, his hands latching onto the villain's shoulder as bakugou sent him tumbling to the ground.

"what did you do to them, hah?"

todoroki ran to y/n, crouching down and checking their pulse.

"they're just passed out."

todoroki said to bakugou, who looked back at him and then bakugou looked back down to the villain on the floor, his knee digging into the villain's back.

"what's your quirk? and you better tell me straight or else."

-

y/n walked down the hall with bakugou by their side, y/n linking their arm as they held bakugou's arm who's hands were in his pockets.

"katsuki! are you hungry?"

"mhm yeah. do you want me to make you something?"

"oh yeah please!"

y/n became nicer, more clingy with everyone, but mostly bakugou. bakugou felt his chest warm up at the tone of voice y/n used to call his name, 'katsuki!' .

they made their way together to the kitchen, as bakugou made his way to the fridge and cabinets, taking some ingredients and setting them on the counter.

"do you want me to help, katsuki?"

"just sit there and look pretty."

bakugou said, setting down the egg carton on the counter, before walking over to y/n, picking them up by the waist, both hands firmly on the side of their waist as he lifted them up to sit on the counter next to the stove.

y/n payed no mind to bakugou's touch, smiling wide as they swung their feet, their feet not touching the ground.

a good thing about this quirk effect was how sweet y/n was. bakugou was used to the nonchalantly y/n, pretty y/n sitting there like no one was bothered by how pretty they were, even if they acted so stoic all the damn time.

another good thing was bakugou could make this into his advantage, try to make y/n feel giddy in a way. it's not like they’ll remember anything, right?

bakugou grabbed an egg out of it's place. grabbing four and cracking them into a bowl while separating the whites and the yolk.

"can i mix the yolk?"

y/n asked, twindling their fingers as they waited for bakugou's response as he looked sideways to look at them.

"yeah, here."

bakugou handed y/n the bowl of yolks while also handing them a pair of chopsticks, watching y/n mix the yolks while they stuck their tongue out a little in focus. bakugou forcing his eyes to look away to put rice into the rice cooker.

-

bakugou watched as y/n ate their omelette, eating his omelette calmly as y/n practically swallowed the whole meal in 3 bites. quickly finishing it as they waited for bakugou to finish his.

"what do you wanna do, pretty?"

bakugou mumbled, putting their dishes in the sink, thinking 'class rep is gonna do them anyway'. y/n heard his voice, smiling softly.

"i'm sleepy, can we have a sleepover in your dorm?"

bakugou nodded, bringing his hand towards y/n's as he clutched onto it, bringing y/n to the elevator.

-

the next day, it was a friday. class 1-a got excused from class early to rest. it was a friday anyway. nonetheless, the class cherished the rare wide smiles that y/n was giving them, doing whatever they could to make y/n smile bigger.

"guys! i say we have a movie night tonight!"

mina said, her hand in the air to direct the classes attention to her.

"what movie?"

"let's binge watch all the harry potter movies!"

"hell nah cuh"

-

eventually, the whole class agreed. mostly everyone set up the comfy area of blankets and pillows, making a little oval around the large couch that sat infront of the large flat screen tv that the dorms had supplied for the students.

bakugou only agreed to come to sit next to y/n, as close as he could, and no one could comment on it because y/n wanted to sit next to bakugou!

y/n sat in the floor, their back leaning on the couch as kirishima sat on the couch behind them, y/n between his legs. bakugou sat on their left, the closet people to him were kirishima and y/n. y/n’s legs were under a blanket to create warm underneath, bakugou also under the blanket close to y/n. y/n held onto bakugou’s hand, playing with his fingers as bakugou watched y/n’s hands work.

no one could see anyway, bakugou thinks a bird just got murdered, but he doesn’t know, nor care really.

y/n gingerly intertwines their fingers, rubbing their thumb along bakugou’s own. y/n places a leg between bakugou’s legs, getting impossibly close to him as bakugou lets it happen, getting closer to y/n aswell.

“what you doing, dumbass?”

bakugou whispered, not letting anyone else but y/n hear his voice, it was slightly raspy in a way, he had never talked in such a soft tone.

“jus’ wanna get close to you..”

y/n admitted, looking up into bakugou’s eyes. thank god the lights were off and the tv was emitting a small bit of light, bakugou’s face was burning, but maybe y/n could already tell by his sweaty palms. he’s had to wipe his hands on the blanket several times already.

y/n looked around to their classmates, leaning into bakugou’s ear as they placed a hand over their mouth to cover their voice. at the same time, bakugou placed his hand on y/n’s lower back, leaning his ear towards them.

“can i sit between your legs?”

y/n asked, leaning back out with a soft smile adoring their lips. bakugou couldn’t resist, not saying anything but just moving the blanket and tapping the space between his legs.

y/n smiled widely, quickly getting up a little bit and sitting down between bakugou’s legs. y/n leaned back on bakugou while he wrapped his arms around y/n, holding onto their waist and he liked the way it slightly squished under his rough hands. bakugou placed his head into the crook of their neck, snuggling his nose into the side of their neck as y/n giggled, telling bakugou ‘that tickles!’ .

bakugou rested his chin on y/n’s shoulder, getting comfortable as y/n rested their full body weight on bakugou.

“you’re lucky i like you.”

bakugou mumbled, it was nearly silent, but since it was right next to y/n’s ear, they heard all of it. y/n’s smile disappeared, their face being replaced with embarrassment and a burning hot face. y/n turned their head to the right, facing their head away as they were flustered.

"hah? are you embarrassed, pretty?"

bakugou let go of y/n's waist, rubbing at their hips as they placed their hands on bakugou's thighs, avoiding bakugou looking at them.

"do you not like me?"

y/n gasped, whipping their head around and hitting bakugou on the chest as he yelped slightly at the sudden action.

"of course i do. why do you think i hang out with you more than anyone else?"

y/n mumbled the last bit, looking back at the movie like they've been paying attention.

"you're gonna watch the movie now?"

"i've been watching the whole time, what do you mean?"

y/n quickly said, their hands crossing above their chest as bakugou leaned into them, his chest touching their back.

"you want me to stop?"

y/n didn't answer straight away, but eventually,

"no.."

bakugou heard the small mumble, as he hid a chuckle and a smirk by digging his face into their neck, which made y/n smile at the ticklish feeling, which made them laugh quietly, smacking bakugou softly to get him to stop.

[buggybambi]

Cannot wait to read your Carmen cowboy fanfic!!

save a horse, ride your cowboy | carmen berzatto (18+ content ahead) description; joining the meads ranch wasn’t always your plan. neither was falling for the handsome cowboy there. (wc: 2.45k)

cw: nsfw content (see warnings below) - reader's age is not said but is over 18, y/n used, afab!reader with she/her pronouns used

content warnings: slow burn (this is a long fanfic, sue me), i guess kinda public sex? i mean its in a bedroom and there’s no one hearing them but like shh, this fanfic took me like five months to write (not a joke) and if it sucks or some parts are unclear um blame it on that!, um i didnt write this as filthy as i wanted to but still; finger reader (x2), reader riding carmen (per the title), timeskip (a year prior to a year later), afab!reader, non-descript!reader but if there is something that i should change lmk, carmen eating reader out, hookup plot i guess?? friends to lovers sort of? idk really, unprotected sex (filthy) nav post | inbox | more of mae writes: the bear 🐻

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐀𝐆𝐎 . . .

From a distance, the Meads Ranch had seemed like a small glimpse of heaven on earth.

Cattle roamed the fields while the sun was beginning to rise, pickup trucks being driven off of the ranch and leaving trails of dirt behind them. Pieces of hay are scattered around everywhere you walk.

Carmen had first noticed you when you came out of the main Mitchell family lodge. The property had similar lodges, but that was the one used for most of the family, and the oldest lodge on the land.

You had been brought to the ranch as a chance from an old family friend. Almost like you’re second chance at life.

Gavin Mitchell, the oldest son, walked out of the house with you by his side. You two, laughing and talking. "I'm so glad you are joining us, and- oh! Carmen." Gavin walks over to Carmen, his arm resting on the cattle fence Carmen had spent the past few days repairing. "This is Y/N. You are going to train her on ranch life."

"Yes, sir." Carmen nods. You could tell by the tone in his voice he either wasn't happy about training you, or he'd done it so many times before it felt exhausting.

Gavin leaves you two alone. You smile, holding your hand out. "Hi, I'm-"

"Pick that pair of pliers up and get to work." He states.

Huh. Definetly taking the cold shoulder approach.

──

Much to your surprise, you and Carmen got over the cold approach. He’d become somewhat more open with you within the first month of your time on the ranch.

It wasn’t a fast thing. The opposite, actually. It took him a day to learn your name instead of saying ‘you’ when he needed something from you. It took him a week to start conversations with you, instead of you starting them with him.

Now a month later. He had been told by the other handlers on the ranch they were going out, and Carmen was expected to go with them. But not without-

“You wanna go to the bar with me?” He’d blurted out to you while you and him were working in one of the barns. It caught you off guard, so much so you took a minute to register it was him speaking to you and not his usual muttering to himself.

You turned and looked at him, letting out a soft chuckle. “Um.. you’re going to a bar?” You question first. Carmen hadn’t made it a secret he hated the bars in town. Too many tourists, people ruining good songs during karaoke.

“Well- the other handlers are but the dumbasses can’t be trusted to handle themselves, so.. I wanted to know if you wanted to come.” Carmen says, as he continued focusing on his work, almost using that as a distraction from having to make eye contact with you.

“Sure, I’ll come.” You had agreed. To Carmen’s pure surprise, you had said yes. And not a pity yes, or at least not an obvious one.

Needless to say, you being there made it actually enjoyable. Carmen wasn’t a drinker, and neither were you. It was one of the few things you two had in common, or that you knew you had in common.

You and him had found a somewhat secluded table in the bar, talking all night. He found himself asking questions about you, and he heard your laugh.

God. That laugh. He was sure if heaven had a sound attached to it, it would be that.

And eventually, you and him managed to wrangle all your guys into a truck with the ranch’s logo on the side, and managed to get yourselves back to the ranch.

Walking down a dirt path that lead to the handler house, it was just you and Carmen. His hands remained in the front pockets of his jeans. “I uh, had a really good time tonight.” He says. It was like admitting he liked being around you, without so many words.

“I did too, Carmen.” You say back as you walk onto the front porch with him right behind you. You stand there, making eye contact with him, both of you silent.

And that night, you and him almost kissed on the porch. *Almost.* Had it not been for one of the other handlers, Lee, throwing open the door to ask you two if you had any idea where his car keys were, you were sure you would have kissed him.

Another kiss for another time, you supposed.

──

And that kiss had come at another time. It was almost a week later when you and him found yourselves alone again in the barn. Somehow you and him always ended up in a barn.

You hadn’t been expecting it. Ever since the barn, it was like Carmen had made an effort to talk to you. Asking about your life before the ranch, telling you about his in return. He told you about his hopes, his family. And he’d make a point to stand close to you as he spoke to you.

Maybe he thought you didn’t notice the way he’d look at you out of the corner of your eye. A look that made it seem like he was asking himself if being this close to you was a good idea, and he’d decided it was.

It was silent for a pause before you decided to speak again. “You’re standing awfully close right now.” You comment. But your tone didn’t show you were upset by it, rather intrigued.

“Do you want me to back up?” He asks, his voice low. You turn to look at him, and that’s when you realize how close he actually is. His face close to yours.

You swallow before you speak. “No.” You answer, trying to keep your voice steady. You fail, but he wouldn’t tell you that.

He took a small step closer. A step that made a huge difference, because now he was looking at your lips. You decide to ask the question this time. “Do you want to kiss me?” You question.

He takes in a breath, before he decides to answer. “Yeah.” He says, as his eyes meet your again like he’s waiting for your approval. And you nod.

Go ahead. Your eyes were telling him. Kiss me.

And he did. His lips met yours in a sweep, his hands cupping your cheeks instantly. It’s soft at first, as he takes his time getting used to kissing you. And once he’s adjusted, he presses you up against the wall.

After you two had a makeout session like a couple of pathetic teenagers, he grabbed your hand and practically ran with you into the handler house. He had brought you into his bedroom, closing and locking the door behind you both.

From there, it was a switching pattern of throwing off clothes. His shirt, your shirt. His jeans, your jeans. Him laying you back as he takes your panties off and then gently placing kisses up your thigh. His eyes met yours as if silently asking for approval. You nod, desperate for him to just keep kissing up, and up, and-

He does. He kissed up your thigh, his lips finding on and sucking on your desperate clit. Your hands immediately fly to his head, fingers grasping at curls. The action elicits a guttural groan from Carmen, which practically vibrates through you as he eats you like a man starved.

His tongue is replaced by his fingers, thrusting in and out of you at a torture of a pace, his lips kissing and sucking on your glistening clit. His fingers are soaked, and he couldn’t care less. All he cares about is feeling you, not about the mess it makes.

Carmen was a simple man. He could get off on eating you out. The gasps and moans were enough to make him feel like he would just mess up his pants right then and there. And he almost does.

But can you blame him? You look so pretty like this. His nose bumping your clit as he watches his fingers slide in and out of you, the squelch noise it produces being more heavingly than it should be. Your soft pleas of “more” and “please” make him grin, and you can feel that cocky smile against your clit as he places a few feathery kisses on it.

He can feel your walls clenching around his fingers. Each time he removes them, he can feel you trying to keep them in, to surround them with yourself. He doesn’t mind though. The action only turns him on more.

“So pretty like this.” You can barely hear him mumble. You aren’t sure if he’s talking to you or your pussy. “Such a good girl f’me.”

And by the time you’re actually cumming on his fingers, he’s grinning like the cat from Alice in Wonderland. He watches as you fall apart on his fingers, and he has to resist the urge to lick your climax off of his hands.

He has to take his time with you.

“You did so good, baby.” He says, the pet name slipping out before he can stop it. You’re not complaining though. He presses kisses all over your face. On your forehead, your cheeks, your jaw as he praises you. “Did so good.”

Yeah. No way to ignore what was clearly happening between you both.

𝐏���𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐘 . . .

The golden lights hitting your face from the small cabin you and the other handlers lived in. Your room was at the end of a hallway, and you could hear the chaos of the other handlers starting in the kitchen below your room.

A small groan comes from beside you as you go to pull yourself out of bed. Carmen’s arms hug your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Do we really have to get up now?” Carmen may have been the ranches best handler, but that didn’t mean he was happy about the early hours.

“Afraid so, cowboy.” You turn, facing him. His arms stay planted where they are around your waist as he buries his face into your neck. He smells like cedarwood and apple, his aftershave smell still lingering as you place a few light kisses on his cheek.

“Mm. Call me cowboy again, shit’s sexy.” He requests as he places feathery kisses on your collarbone. You let out a soft laugh as his beard stubble scratches your cheek.

“You just don’t wanna go down there so they can celebrate your five years here.” You point out in a whispered voice as your hand scratches as his scalp, fingers running through morning curls.

“Makes me feel old.” He replies, his voice gruff as he climbs on top of you, placing kisses up your collarbone and on your neck as his arms wrap around your waist, arms wrapped around you. “Would rather celebrate with you instead.”

You weren’t complaining to that idea. You let him slide your pajama shorts down your legs, throwing them off some place. Lucky for him, you “forgot” your panties the night before.

Unlucky for him, cause he had a habit of tossing them aside and then keeping them.

He kissed at your neck as his hand teased you, fingers lightly trailing up your thigh. Getting closer to where you so badly wanted him- and he could tell. He could feel how soaked you were. Normally, he’d take his time. Tease you about it. But that idea was pushed out of his mind when he was desperate to feel you fall apart on his fingers.

He gently coaxed one finger past your folds. He could hear the strangled gasp that came out of you when he finally inserted a digit into you, and he fucking loved it. He would listen to that sound over and over again if he could.

He let his finger thrust in and out of you, letting you enjoy the feeling before he added a second. You were practically a goner by the point he’d inserted his first finger, but with the second? Oh, you were practically a mess.

And then his thumb rubbed soft circles on your clit, with him whispering praises in your ear? For sure, you were a goner.

He had to cover your mouth with his hand as you reached your climax. The other handlers were still downstairs, and he didn’t need them hearing you. Your moans, your failed attempts to beg for more were his to hear. Not someone else’s.

He pressed kisses to your jaw as you caught your breath. His rule of never properly, in his words, fucking you before you had at least one orgasm was proving to be very beneficial for you.

He lets you recover as he kisses you. Lets you catch your breath before he’s subtly pulling you on top of him as his tongue slides into your mouth with such ease.

“This is your big day. Pretty sure we should be celebrating you.” You murmur between kisses. He grins as you straddle him.

They have a saying in a world like yours. Save a horse. Ride a cowboy.

So, you do! You pull away from his lips as you place kisses down his jaw, whilst your free hand reaches and lowers his boxers. Ever so subtly lowering yourself onto him.

Carmen wasn’t an idiot. He could tell what you had been doing, but he wasn’t gonna stop you. Not when you looked too damn good riding him.

You kept your movements steady, at a pace you knew he’d speed up soon. His hands remained on your hips as he watched you. When your lips return to his neck, he feels like a mess. His mind is fuzzy, he can’t form a single thought besides the word “more”.

Now he was the one moaning under you. You knew how to drive him crazy, and you were doing it.

And how could he not? You took him so well. He stretched you out perfectly, hit the right spots. If he could stay buried inside of you all day, he probably would.

As soon as his hands began grasping your hips and the skin there, you knew to speed up, and you complied. He threw his head back, holding you so tight you knew he’d leave a bruise.

And by the time he spills inside of you, you’re sure he has. You don’t take long to follow right after him.

“Okay—” He says breathlessly after that potentially earth shattering climax. “Next time we do that, I am totally having you wear my hat.”

That elicits a giggle out of both of you.

[gothicminxx]

WC: 2.3K

Satosugu x Gn reader!

CW: Mention of blood, mention of death, description of a corpse, slight angst w/ comfort, use of pet names (baby, pretty, angel), poly relationship Satosugu x reader.

Song suggestion for beginning:

Summary: Your two boyfriends comforting you after a nightmare, all around pure fluff

The sky burned hues of angry red and a deadly orange, the smell of death prominent in the air that it made you clasp a hand over your mouth. It stung your lungs and made your eyes tear at the harshness of the stench. The trekk back to safety felt far, like the destination itself was unattainable or perhaps it didn’t exist. The feeling of your legs burning and your muscles aching made the journey that much more unbearable.

Everywhere you looked there were corpses of people you didn’t recognize followed by thick grey clouds of smoke. Your body felt sticky with your blood, tears, and sweat— everything hurt, a pain so agonizing it made you want to shrivel up and die. When did things turn out this way? It seemed as though memories of blue skies and the warmth of the sun were long gone. Instead it was replaced with the ugliest shade of red and reeking scent of death.

You took sharp inhales of breath that pierced your lungs, you felt this time around you were truly going to die alone. It was silent in the city besides the crackling of fires in the distance, as if you were the last person standing.

That was until you saw him. The tuffs of pink hair and tattoo markings along his flesh as he sat high and mighty on his throne. A malicious smirk lay proudly on his lips as if he had conquered the world and cleansed the Earth of those he deemed unworthy of life. The king of all curses, Sukuna Ryomen, looked back at you with fiery red eyes. Your lips trembled as if you had finally found your demise, but it seemed like a blessing rather than a punishment.

The piles of corpses that lay beneath his throne; two stuck out the most. The first being long raven hair with a disheveled bun, thick crusts of dried blood in the strands, the lifeless face of Suguru Geto stared back at you. Next to him was pearly white hair that was stained with red, rosy lips dripping with crimson liquid. Cerulean eyes had now turned pale and utterly unrecognizable, the great Satoru Gojo was dead.

Falling to your knees as their corpses lay mangled before you, shattered you in the worst way. A crippling scream left your lungs that it felt as though your throat had ripped in two. Fat tears fell from your eyes and stung the open cuts on your face, during your moment of mourning you could hear Sukuna’s mocking laughter. Satisfied at the agony you felt as the two most important people in your life now lay dead.

You hugged yourself tightly as you continued to scream loudly, not remotely concerned about the rippling pain in your throat. Why couldn’t have you been strong enough to protect them? Why weren’t you fast enough?

Why? Why? Why?

“Name?”

The angry red sky and Sukuna’s face diminished from your view as you jolted up in bed. Sweat dripped from your forehead as hair stuck to the wet flesh, your oversized shirt clung to your body. Eyes darted around the room, moonlight streamed in through a sliver of the curtain. It was dark, making it almost impossible to focus besides the loud beating in your chest that felt as though you were on the verge of a heart attack.

“Name?” There it was, that deep voice coaxed with sleep and concern that made you snap out of it, your wide eyes turning to your left. Suguru stared at his lover, placing his hand on your thigh and squeezing tightly. The sounds of your screams and frantic moving in bed had jolted the raven haired man from his slumber.

Clutching your chest as your lips quivered, “Su-Suguru?” You croaked out as a small sob emitted past your lips.

That was enough to shatter his heart in two, hearing your voice so small and broken made him want to cry. Suguru was quick to wrap you tightly in his arms, kissing the top of your head. He tried his best to not wake Satoru next to him, of course his efforts would be in vain. Especially when it comes to you. The six eyes could sleep through a bomb but when it came to you it’s as if his body knew.

Satoru rubbed sleep from his eyes to adjust to the dark room, hearing soft sobs as he turned his attention towards Suguru. His heart sank immediately as he witnessed his lover hold you tightly, you, his whole world, clutching desperately onto Suguru’s shirt like your life depended on it.

“What’s wrong?” Satoru asked as he immediately shot up, quick to be close to Suguru’s side as his giant hand cupped the back of your head. The two men shared panicked looks as they held onto you tightly, listening to every sob that left your lips.

You couldn’t muster a word if you tried, the only thing you could manage were their names in wails. It hurt like hell to see you in such a state and the best they could do was squeeze you in reassurance. The two strongest sorcerers were utterly weak when it came to you, that even a mere scratch on your pretty skin made them anxious. It simply couldn’t be helped— they loved you too much.

Suguru shrugged as he looked at Saturo, a deep frown etched on his lips. The worry was evident on his face the more he felt you shake in his arms, “‘s okay, we��re here baby, we’re right here.” Suguru whispered, nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head.

Satoru laid his head on Suguru’s shoulder as he ran his fingers through your hair, trying his best to soothe you with his touch. Sometimes he wished there was a technique to get rid of the suffering within your heart, to take away the pain you felt or whatever made you cry. If he was the strongest, why couldn’t a technique like that exist? It didn’t seem fair to him.

As moments passed and their soothing touches never faltered, your sobs began to quiet down allowing you to find your voice, “I saw your dead bodies…” You croaked out, a small whimper escaping your lips, “Sukuna, h-he, I-“ You couldn’t even finish your sentence, shaking your head as another sob threatened its way out of your lungs.

The two men shared knowing looks, since being faced with the king of curses just shy of two months ago, it was something deeply engraved in their minds. The lives of innocents lost and nearly dying themselves, it often haunted their dreams. You as of lately hadn’t been able to sleep much, you could still hear the screams of the humans, the smell of death around you. It was a stench unlike any other, not even the smell of a curse could match that.

A day where Satoru felt as though he had lost everything, Suguru laying in the asphalt covered in blood and barely gasping a breath of air. You barely clinging onto the oxygen the trees provided, chest barely heaving up and down— slowly dying. It was an event that altered your brains and made sleep hell.

Recently Satoru had found a way to evade the dreams, sending himself into a spiral of a sugar high that made him crash intensely. While Suguru drowned himself in sleepy time tea because it made him dream of anything but that. But you rarely manage the nightmares anymore, rarely sleeping, or finding the excuse to nap during the day with your lovers on the couch.

“Oh angel, we’re here. We’ll never leave you, I promise.” Satoru pressed his nose in your hair, inhaling the soft aroma that belonged to you. His voice held an edge to it, one where he himself was reassuring his mind that he’d protect you and Suguru with his life. That he guaranteed.

Suguru pressed a kiss to your temple, gently lifting you from his chest and placing you in Satoru’s lap, “I’ll go make some tea.” He murmured, standing from the huge bed and heading toward the kitchen. He’d do anything to comfort you, to make you warm and whole once more. It was also an excuse to let his tears fall from his eyes, Suguru didn’t want to cry in front of you, no, he needed to be strong when you needed him. He couldn’t help it, the way your lips trembled and your tears streaked down your face, it hurt his heart to see you so afraid of losing them. He understood that fear too well, facing Sukuna and his limits being tested— feeling so useless once he used up the last bit of cursed energy that he couldn’t protect you or Saturo broke him mentally.

You laid your head against Satoru’s chest, fisting his shirt tightly in your hands, and you were wrinkling the fabric. But he didn’t care, holding you tightly against him that you could hear the gentle thumping of his heart. He cupped your cheek, thumb gently caressing your cheekbone. Satoru gently rocked your bodies to and fro, trying his best to soothe his lover— as your cries died down and all that remained of your tears were the salty stains they left behind, he knew he was doing good. “Hey there, pretty baby.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Hi.” You managed, voice hoarse from how dry your sobs made your throat, “‘Toru please don’t ever go.”

A pang could be felt in the six eyes chest at your soft and defeated voice, he loved you so much it hurt. “Never, I’m the strongest… remember?” Satoru winked down at you, chuckling in hopes to lighten the mood— to hide the fear he felt of one day failing to protect you, but that’s not possible; he hopes.

But somehow you manage a weak smile and nod, he was Satoru Gojo, your dumb and cocky boyfriend that always protected you from the bad guys, how could you not trust him? When it came down to it, even during the battle with Sukuna, you had put your trust in both Satoru and Suguru. The two men made a vow amongst each other and with you, that they would do anything and everything to protect those they loved. Neither had failed yet in keeping that promise it was near and dear to their hearts.

Satoru gazed ahead to the sheer cream colored curtains that swayed in the breeze, the moonlight made its way inside a small crack— bright and welcoming as it gently caressed your cheek. A small twinkle evident in your eyes as you looked up at him with sheer admiration, it made his heart swell. Taking your hand in his he intertwined your fingers together, bringing the back to his lips to press a kiss there, nuzzling his cheek against it.

He wasn’t the type that liked to admit just how much he worried about you and Suguru. That when either of you cried or felt a negative emotion that his heart would feel tight and the air unbearable to breathe. He’d do anything to keep those beautiful smiles on your faces, anything to rid the evil of the world just for you and Suguru. “I love you, name. Nothing in this world will ever take us away from you.” And he meant every word.

The six eyed sorcerer leaned down, tilting your chin up to meet him in the middle, and you swore you inhaled a deep breath at the sight of cerulean eyes glittering in the moonlight. His soft lips came in contact with yours washing away the fears and worries— images of his dead corpse fading into nothingness. He tasted like cherry chapstick and vanilla cake as he swiped his tongue in your mouth. An earlier dessert he had after dinner to focus on “grading assignments”, but it truly was just a greedy indulgence.

The kiss was passionate and slow, Satoru wanting you to feel every emotion he felt in just one kiss, to truly remind you that you had his heart forever. You pulled away, placing your forehead against his, “I love you too.”

A small hum came from the doorway, Suguru stood with a tray of ceramic cups filled with sleepy time tea. He hoped that it would subside the night terrors for you as it did him, a smile of adoration etched itself on his lips as he saw his two lovers nestled up together. He walked inside your guys’ bedroom and placed the tray on the nightstand. You sat up straight and moved over to Suguru’s lap the moment he sat down in bed. Burying your face in the crook of his neck and inhaling the light smell of jasmine and cedar wood. Suguru immediately wrapped his arms around you and let out a sigh of content, “Feeling better?” He asked.

“Mhmm, sorry for worrying you.” You murmured.

“Don’t apologize angel, I'm just glad you feel better.” Suguru whispered.

The raven haired man handed you the ceramic mug, watching as you blew on the hot liquid to take a drink. He took the opportunity to move your hair from your face, and mentally thanked Satoru for comforting you. The white haired man smiled fondly, scooting into your side to sandwich you in between them.

As honey danced on your tongue from the warm beverage, you couldn’t help but steal a kiss from Suguru’s lips as a thank you for the tea. His hand cupping the back of your head to deepen it, lapping his soft tongue with yours, “I want a kiss too.” Satoru whined, giggling as the two of you pulled away and peppered his face with kisses.

Your night terror became a distant memory, the fear you felt for the king of curses now seemed so minuscule as you pressed against Satoru’s chest and wrapped in Suguru’s arms. Your two strong sorcerer’s that would do anything to keep you safe. Their warm embrace lulling you to a comforting dreamless sleep.

[trippinsorrows]

give me a reason + one

authors note: welp. here i am, once again. granted, i'm a bit excited about this one, as it's a unique storyline, at least not as cliched as maybe 'ltye' or 'with me'. trope is essentially age gap x best friends brother x second chance romance x something else that'll be revealed by the end of this chapter and my own creative flairs.

the age gap between mariella and joe is four years, and nothing romantic happened between them until she was in her twenties. just putting that out there now. ari don't do that grooming shit.

their story will be told in a mixture of flashbacks and present day. how they ended up where they are now will eventually be revealed, but until then, it's expected that ya'll are confused.

words: 9k

song inspo: just give me a reason by p!nk and nate ruess

warnings: angst and fluff

if i tag anyone and you don't want to be tagged, please let me know!

taglist: @annfg8 @whatdoeseverybodywant @sayyestoheav3nn @cyberdejos2 @prettybitxhnica @shayaaaaaaa

Summer, 2003

“Ladies, next week officially starts the beginning of the rest of our lives. No longer will we be lowly 8th graders. No, we will be official high schoolers! Next week is a new beginning, a new era, a new decade of wonderful, fabulous, life changing—”

“Baby girl, do you want a hot dog or a burger?”

Mariella releases the loudest, most exaggerated sigh known to mankind that is possible for a 14-year-old. She turns from where she was pacing across the stones that line around her family’s pool. Sure enough, her 6’3 father stands before her with his spatula in hand, wearing his apron gifted to him for Father’s Day a couple years back. He’s using his free hand to shield his face from the blaring sun. 

“Daddy! I was in the middle of a monologue!”

Byron Holmes looks as disinterested as the tone of his voice. “Ella, you always talking. How am I supposed to know the difference?”

This time, it’s a dramatic gasp that's evoked instead of the previous one born from irritation. “I resent you saying that, father!”

“I’m sure you do, now do you want a hot dog or burger?”

Mariella might quite possibly be the most dramatic person to walk the earth, but the promise of one of her dad’s famous grilled burgers is too good to turn down. She can turn her strong feelings at being interrupted into a song at a later date and time.

Defeated, unable to overpower the desire for good food, she murmurs, “burger, please.”

“Thank you.” Byron Sr. shakes his head. Getting an answer from the prisoners is easier than getting one from his youngest sometimes. He then sets his gaze on her audience. “What about you girls?”

Promise Rose is the first to answer, that usual nervous smile on her face as she adjusts her thick rimmed glasses. “A hot dog, please, Mr. Holmes.”

Byron nods, committing her request to memory. He then turns to the other, already knowing what he’s in for. “Iris?”

Her hazel eyes that are obscured by the heavy set of eyeliner land on him with icy indifference. “I refuse to participate in the travesty and continued slaughter of the innocent just for the selfish pleasure and satisfaction of the greedy carnivorous species that occupies this stolen land.”

Byron releases a heavy sigh. It’s always something with this one. “Is that a yes or no, Iris?”

Iris lifts her chin, answering just as coldly, “I’ll just take the bread.”

Relieved and eager to be away from the only fourteen-year-old who could unnerve him, even with his twenty plus years as a prison warden, he walks away, mumbling to himself, “I swear something is wrong with that child….”

Returned to the previous topic at hand, Mariella plops down on the pool chaise across from her two best friends since third grade. “Now where were we before I was so rudely interrupted?”

“The inevitable extinction of mankind.”

“Surviving high school.”

Mariella rolls her eyes. It can so difficult sometimes to get her two polar opposite besties on the same page.

“We just have to make sure we do everything perfect.”

Promise Rose chews nervously on the corner of her lip and criss crosses her legs over each other. She looks between the two of them, anxiety growing by the second. “Ella is right. With BJ and Joe graduating this year, we’ve gotta make sure we elevate our social status or else we’re dead meat.”

Confused, Mariella asks, “what do you mean?” She then adds, “our social status is fine.”

Promise Rose looks over at an uninterested Iris. “Help here?”

“I refuse to subscribe to the patriarchy of social hierarchies.”

“Oh geez.” She should have known better. Iris refuses to get hip with anything if it’s not sticking a finger to the man. “Ella, it’s only because of your brother and Joe that we haven’t been bullied out of school. We are literally only semi-popular because of association. Without the guys, we’re nerds.”

Mariella would have preferred an actual dirty, jagged edge dagger be shoved into her chest. “We are not nerds!”

“Ella, you’re weird. I’m scared of everything. And Iris contemplates murder every hour on the hour.”

Iris shrugs, pushing her Kaleidoscope colored hair over her tanned shoulder. “Only on exceptionally bad days.”

“I rest my case.”

Mariella isn’t beyond consideration of alternative perspectives. She takes Promise Rose words to heart, trying her best to see it objectively.

She’s also not above admitting that having her brother and Joe look out for her over the years has only been beneficial. Even with them being out of middle school for almost four years now, their popularity has existed since damn near elementary school. Them and her twins sisters, Everly and Olivia, really. But especially Byron and Joe, mostly because of their standing as football players, two of the best on every team they’ve been on. Because of that, there’s not a soul in town who doesn’t know her as BJ’s little sister and Joe’s adopted little sister.

She’s always seen that as protecting her from guys messing with her but never associated it with social status.

And just as she’s undergoing a life changing realization, the creak of the side gate snatches her attention, revealing the two people who can clear all this up for her.

“BJ!”

Mariella untangles her legs from off the pool chair and jogs over to her brother and Joe.

“Damn, not even home for five minutes, and you already sweating me.”

Glaring, she shoves on his chest, muttering, “you’re such a dick sometimes.”

“Aye, watch your math. You too young to be cussing.”

She ignores him. With his 18th birthday right around the corner, Byron Jr., BJ as everyone calls him, has been on some weird power, superiority trip. 

Mariella redirects her focus to Joe, accepting his side hug. “Whassup, Ri.”

Mariella has a variety of nicknames. Her parents bounce back and forth between Mariella and Ella, mostly everyone else calls her Ella, but with Joe, she’s just Ri.

It’s kind of an unspoken rule that only he can call her that.

Joseph Anoa’i. 

Mariella can’t think of a time Joe wasn’t in her life. Not only does he and his equally large family live just a few doors down, he’s played football with BJ since they were six-years-old, before she was old enough to know what football even was. An almost quiet, level headed balance to her sometimes hot headed biological brother, Joe is Mariella’s big brother from another mother. Hes has always looked out for her just as much as BJ, if not more. 

He’s essentially been informally adopted by her family as BJ’s brother for life. 

“Hey, Joe.” Separating from him, she turns back toward the two of them. “Okay, I have a question, and it’s imperative you provide me with the raw, honest truth.”

Joe seems at least somewhat interested, but BJ is the one to make the smart comment. “Make it quick. I’m hungry. Practice was brutal.”

A brief brow lift from Joe is confirmation BJ isn’t exaggerating, so in a moment of rarity, Mariella bypasses all of the theatrics and skips right to the point. “Am I a nerd?”

Mariella expects contemplation, some level of astonishment that she could even fix her mouth to ask such a thing. Instead, she’s met with her brother shrugging with a simple, “of course, you are.”

Mouth ajar, hand to her chest, she asks, “what?”

“Come on, Ella, you know you’re kinda weird. Be talking to yourself and stuff.”

“It’s a sign of genius, thank you very much.”

“It’s a sign of weirdness.” She crosses her arms over her chest as a sign of unspoken protest. “If you wasn’t my little sister, I’d probably bully your nerdy ass.”

Completely done with the young man she once considered brother, Mariella looks over at Joe to see he’s on his phone. Probably texting his latest girlfriend of the week. Latisha, or something like that. He seems to cycle through girls faster than BJ. “Joe?”

He lifts his gaze from his phone, and Mariella readies to remind him of the initial question when he answers. “You’re just you, Ri. That’s all that matters.”

She’s not sure why she expected more. Joe can be of so few words at times. She just wishes this wasn’t one of those times. 

“While I do not agree with the expressed opinions, I appreciate the candor.” Chin lifted, she bids them farewell. “I will leave you be now.” Mariella can briefly overhear Joe saying something about Latisha, but it’s pushed away, outweighed by this new shocking piece of information.

In walking back over to her best friends and future members of her team when she’s a world famous singer, Mariella is unsurprised to find Promise Rose sitting on the edge of her seat while Iris simply glares at nothing and no one. 

Promise Rose is the first to speak, asking with all of the anxiety she carries on a daily basis. “Well?”

Mariella would love to lie to them, but these are her best friends. She could never do such a thing, even if the truth sucks more than the rumors of a pending B2K breakup. “You’re right.” Shoulders slumped, she groans loudly and throws herself back on the pool chair. “We’re dead meat.”

—-------

Present

You, you love it how I move you 

You love it how I touch you 

My one, when all is said and done 

You'll believe God is a woman

Watching her perform has always been an experience, a treat, a vision in some ways. The way she moves across the stage, so demanding, so in the moment, the eye contact and engagement with the crowd creating such an all-encompassing experience. 

On the stage, performing, is her element. It’s always been where she shines the most, and tonight is no different.

She’s up for a couple Grammys, already snagging two, as expected. He knows the ones she’s really anxious about are the coveted Album and Record of the Year. It’s something she’s always dreamed of achieving, and while there have been whispers that she’s a shoe in, Joe has known Mariella long enough to know that’s not enough.

It’ll only mean something to her when they’re in her hands.

And he’s confident they will be. She’s had yet another stellar, groundbreaking year, her album somehow doing better than her last. No one’s seeing numbers and sales like her. Her pen game is unmatched, not to mention her album is almost entirely written and produced by her, something unheard of these days.

She truly is an icon in the making. 

And the way she ends her performance with a standing ovation from some of music’s best is just more proof of how much she’s killing it.

Joe watches her walk backstage after nervously basking in such a response from people she’s looked up to her whole life.

She doesn’t return to her seat next to him, as expected. The final two categories are about to be announced, and he realizes it would be easier for her to remain backstage when her name is called. 

And the minute it is, he finds himself nodding with a small smile. He knew she could do it, knew that there was no way she could release such accomplished work and not leave with acknowledgment of such.

There’s an almost awkward but appropriate pause as the attendees stand and applaud, Mari suddenly rushing out from the back while holding her dress up. For a brief second, he thinks she’s gonna fall flat on her face. It wouldn’t be the first time.

She's a talented dancer, but the textbook definition of a klutz.

Always has been. 

But, she doesn’t. Thank God. He knows that’s something she would never let herself live down.

Seconds later, she’s at the mic, panicking, “oh my god!” Her breathing is uneven, and he can bet it’s because she was in the back wearing a hole in the floor with her nervous pacing. “I’m sorry, I was in the back having a panic attack.” That might not be entirely untrue. “And also, my dress is not dressing for some reason, so I’m just gonna awkwardly hold this up to avoid flashing anyone and getting sued by the FCC.” He shakes his head. Even with all the fame, she’s remained the same. “Okay, but seriously, this is insane? Ummm, thank you! I don’t— have no idea what to say. God is so good. My mama would kill me if I didn’t say that. Ooh, I want to thank my parents, of course! My big brother and two older sisters for always putting up with me singing and dancing all over the house.” Always isn’t an exaggeration. Joe can’t recall a time where he walked into the Holmes adobe and wasn’t met with or overheard Mariella working on some aspect of her craft, whether that was writing, creating beats, learning a new dance. She’s always been so focused on getting exactly where she is now.

She continues to thank her team, rushing through the litany of individuals she attributes to helping her stand where she does with the awards that she’s been awarded this night. And when he doesn’t hear his name included, he knows right away she’s in a relatively good mood, willing to play up their Oscar worthy performance.

“And lastly, to my amazing husband,” her eyes search the room, finally landing on him. “Joe, you are my best friend and my biggest supporter. I love you so much. Thank you for always being in my corner and putting up with all of my crackhead energy.” Her eyes are teary, but he has no doubt she’s pulling from the emotion at crossing off yet another box from so long ago versus feeling so moved by her inauthentic words. 

But again, he follows along with this song and dance they’ve mastered at this point, mouthing once again that he loves her too.

The music begins to play indicating that she’s maxed out her time, and he hears her quickly throw out, “I’m not on crack, by the way!” before she walks off the stage, ushered by Pharrell and Diane Warren.

Theres’s something both treasured and uncomfortable about those words leaving her mouth. They’re so freely used these days. By both of them. But the meaning and impact behind them is long gone, some place in the past where demons and skeletons lie, often tampered with but never fully addressed.

It now just leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

—-------

“I have a show on the 13th you need to be at.”

Joe is sitting on the edge of the bed, undoing his tie, focused on the balcony doors across from him instead of to his right where she sits at her vanity, removing her jewelry. 

“What?” He doesn’t need to be looking at her to know she’s angled toward him, face turned up in disgust. “Of March?”

There’s no need for a wordy answer. “Yeah.”

“I can’t.” Mari has made it a goal of hers to stay on top of her calendar as she prepares to enter the next era of her career. With the Grammy’s now over, the end of this award season is upon her, and preparation for her next album is underway. It’s why she knows and communicates in the moment of the scheduling conflict. “I have a meeting with my label to start discussing my next album.”

Joe can’t deny the fact that he half-expected her to come up with some excuse, some reason as to why she yet again can’t do her part of this joint collab of theirs. “Can’t you move it?”

“Why should I have to move my stuff around for you?” Mari can count a variety of times where she’s done so before, but that was then. This is now. They’re miles away from where they once were, and she’s not willing to inconvenience herself for him.

Not anymore. 

Meanwhile, Joe doesn’t understand why everything that’s inherently so simple has to be made so fucking complex. It’s never a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ with her. “You can tell Jax if a date doesn’t work for you. I can’t do that shit with Paul.” And she knows that. Mariella is well aware of how the WWE works. Dates are set in stone months in advance, years in advance sometimes for PPV’s. She’s just being difficult for no damn reason.

As per usual. 

In a perfect world, Mariella would be celebrating right now, would be in attendance at the prestigious Grammy’s After-Party celebrating her major accomplishments. Instead, she sits in the room with a man who seems hellbent on stealing her joy in any way he can these days.

It makes her sick. 

She’s fully turned toward him, even as he refuses to look her way. Intentional, of course. He knows how big she is on eye contact. “I did that the last time I went to a taping, Joe. I’m not gonna keep doing it.”

He glances at her, and she instantly knows he’s not backing down, not willing to let this lie. She knows she’s in for another pow-wow. A signature finish for most outings these days. “But, I can show up for you?”

“Don’t do that. Don’t act like this isn’t as beneficial for you as it is for me.” One thing she won’t put up with is him acting like their arrangement isn’t just as great for his career as it is for hers. The press and fans of both of them eat up any type of public appearance, especially when he plays the role of the loving, supportive husband who wants to celebrate his wife’s big wins with her. “And you know how busy I am after award season.”

He knows that’s typically when she gets back in the kitchen to start cooking up her next album, where she locks herself in the studio for hours on end writing, producing, escaping.

“And WrestleMania season isn’t for me?”

Truth be told, she’d briefly forgotten about that, forgotten that the biggest night of his career is only two months away. A small part of her hates that. Hates how far they are from where they once were. There was once a time where she had every single event committed to memory, would bend over backwards to attend as many of his shows that she could.

Now, she couldn’t give two shits. 

The same way he feels about her.

“I don’t know why you care so much.” She turns back to the mirror to safely remove her diamonds. They’ll need to be returned tomorrow to the designer, and the last thing she wants is to drop or lose something because of his ass. “You got your little whores there anyway. What do you need me for?”

It’s a petty but truthful jab. Mariella knows good and well that her showing up to one of his tapings after he attended the Grammys with her will be ate up by their fans. It’s good press. Great, even. 

But the thought of sitting there, with the full, painful, embarrassing knowledge that the women behind the scenes, the women who are hidden behind NDA’s and WWE hush money, see her for the fraud she is. Know that Joe will end up fucking them when the night is over and returning home to her with the scent of their cheap perfume and not an ounce of regret.

It almost makes her stomach turn. 

He chuckles, and that’s what makes her gaze snap back onto him. She hates when he does this, when he makes it seem like shit is funny. There’s nothing comical about this tragedy. “Did I say something funny?”

“Forget it.” And now he’s dismissive, trying to shut down an argument that he started. “You don’t fucking listen anyway.”

“Are you serious right now?” Mari’s eyes go wide as she stands up, finally rid of six figure jewelry but basked in growing rage. “I don’t listen? Joe, you don’t listen! You never listen! You haven’t in years.”

Joe feeds off her energy, the quiet anger he’s usually well adept at concealing bubbling its way to the surface. No one’s ever been able to get him riled up like she does. “Naw, you not gon’ do that. Make it seem like this is on me. You do what you want and then expect me to just be okay with shit.”

“Wow. This is rich. Absolutely rich.” Mari can only laugh, because this part is funny. It’s hilarious. His lack of insight is astounding. “You are the most selfish bastard I have ever met.”

“Here it is.” He’s now standing as well, hulking body angled towards her, towering over her even with her designer heels. He motions with his hand for her to continue, to go on with the victim narrative she loves to clothe herself in. “Keep going. Tell me all this shit you already know about me, how awful I am—”

“Because you are!”

Something about the intensity in her voice sends him, makes him snap back easily. “And you’re a fucking saint?” His volume is also rising, which he hates. He never allows anyone to have access to that button, to know what to press and how to press it to get him this worked up. “You don’t never do shit wrong?”

Mariella feels her anger intensify as he turns to walk away from her. She’s hot on his heels, following him into the bathroom. “God, you always do this! You always put it back on me. It’s never your fault. Always mine!”

“And this is what I’m saying.” He has his big hands planted on the bathroom counter, looking at her through the large, mounted mirror. “You’re not even hearing what I’m saying. Always so fucking defensive. I’m not the one who don’t listen, Mari! You are!”

She can’t deny there have been a number of occasions where she’s jumped into defensive mode sooner than what’s necessary. Mariella isn’t above acknowledging that. But for him to make it seem like it’s not for a good reason, if not for his role is something she won’t stand for. “So what if I am defensive, huh? Who made me this way? You did, you bastard!”

“Just stop fucking’ talking, alright?” He’s pulling his suit jacket off, tone a mixture of defeat and exhaustion. Emotional or physical, she’s not sure. She knows she certainly feels both. “I don’t wanna hear this shit anymore.”

“And now here you go, always walking away, always taking the easy way out.” Because this is his MO. He loves to accuse and gaslight, and the minute she calls him out on his hypocrisy, he wants to shut everything down. It’s infuriating.

“Fine!” He slams his fists down on the same granite counter Mariella still remembers him once making out with her on, a starting point that ended with him carrying her to their once shared bed where he would make love to her throughout the night. Such a far away, almost unfamiliar time. “You want to sit here and continue yelling, be my fucking guest. I’m not saying shit though!”

“There you go again with more avoidance. God, you’re so predictable! Shit gets too hard, you shut down. You run away.”

“Don’t fucking act like you ever want to talk about shit with me—”

“Don’t tell me what I want, Joe. You don’t know what I want, okay? You don’t know anything about me anymore!”

“And whose fault is that, Mariella, huh? You don’t tell me shit! You never tell me shit!”

“Why should I? You don’t deserve to know shit about me anymore!” It’s more emotions than anything that fuels her to add on the accusatory, “It’s not like you care in the first damn place!” It also has to be the emotions that have her eyes watering, because it’s been forever and a day since an argument between them—and there have been plenty—has made her feel anything other than anger.

This is different.

This is sadness.

 Mariella watches as Joe punches the adjacent wall, the action taking her by surprise and making her jump back from said shock. “What do you want me to say, huh?” It’s been years since she’s seen him this upset. “No matter what I fucking say, what I fucking do, nothing’s ever right, so what’s the goddamn point!” With almost desperation, he shouts, “what the hell do you want from me!”

“I want you to love me again!” She snaps with a burst of visceral emotions. His anger simmers instantaneously. Joe knows that was the last thing she wanted to say, the deep down secret she’s worked hard to keep hidden and tucked away suddenly laid out in the open for all to see. The devastation on her face gives it away as she says more to herself than him in an equally devastated tone, “but that’s gone, isn't it? Everything we had…..everything we were…..is gone.”

An eerie silence settles over them. Joe closes his eyes and does his best to regulate his conflicting emotions. Everything is felt at once. So strong, so confusing, so pressing. That was the last thing he expected to hear from her, the same way the last thing he expected to feel at said words is longing. It’s so unfamiliar and confusing. She has so much power over him. To evoke such strong emotions with just a single sentence. To make him suddenly battle with the array of feelings he’s felt toward and about her at any given point in all of the many years they’ve known each other.

It’s just a fucking mess.

But then, the focus isn’t on his emotions anymore. It’s on the quiet sniffling he hears that makes him close his eyes. Joe instantly feels something different, something similar yet almost stronger than guilt.

She’s still standing at the doorway, but her hands are covering her face, failing to hide what is both visible and audible. 

Tears. 

She’s crying.

Something else unfamiliar settles over him, something almost nostalgic, that once upon a time uncomfortable plethora of emotions he’d find himself battling whenever he saw she was upset.

It never sat right with him to see her cry. 

His tone immediately shifts to something significantly calmer. “Mari….”

“I’m just tired, Joe. I’m so so…..tired.” And it’s with an almost whisper into the enclosed palm of her hands that she grabs the nail for the coffin. “And I don’t want to do this anymore.”

He’s dangerously still, rendered almost physically unable to move. The air around them is suddenly so much more noticeable, heavier, weightier, debilitating. 

She lifts her head, revealing a tear stained, distraught expression that makes him almost as equally distraught. “I don’t want to live like this anymore, Joe. I’m not happy. You’re not happy.” Each word leaving her mouth chips away his anger and replaces it with something unidentifiable. “It’s obvious you don’t love me anymore, and that’s—” Her throat catches as she forces herself to continue. “—that’s okay. Our careers are stable enough to where we don’t have to keep up this facade anymore.”

“Mariella—”

“I want a divorce.”

For some reason, there’s always been this belief system that any argument between them is just a part, a part that’s followed up with another one, then another, and then another. But, it never dawned on him that a single part could be the final part.

The final straw.

“Mariella, we—”

He’s stepping toward her, and she’s instantly stepping back, lifting her arms. She doesn’t want him near her, doesn’t want him touching her. It’s a sting, that’s for sure. 

“Don’t.” And he won’t. Won’t cross her boundaries even if everything in him is screaming to do so, to bypass her wishes that are being fueled by something temporary. Something that will fade by the time morning rolls around. “Just….don’t.”

She’s wiping at her eyes and mutters, “I need some air.”

He doesn’t like seeing her walk away in this manner, doesn’t like ending on this point. It’s one thing to leave off with the promise of another chapter, but it’s an entirely different thing to know that what could follow is the back cover without the anticipation for a sequel.

But, he says nothing. 

Does nothing.

He just lets her leave.

—-------

2007 

The phone ringing less than ten minutes after Joe plopped his big body in the bed was the last thing he expected and needed. Coach put them through hell today, and he’d completely forgotten about an assignment due the next day, so he’d forced himself to power through his physical exhaustion to get it submitted. 

Unlike a lot of his teammates, Joe does care about his academics as much as he cares about football. He recognizes it’s important to have something to fall back on. And as a senior, he’s really at the point where failure just isn’t an option.

He’s come too far now for that shit. 

When the phone rings a second time, he realizes it might be worth answering, even if everything in his body wants him to let it ring 18 times if that’s what it takes for the caller to get the message.

Not even bothering to check who it is, Joe grabs his cell and hits the green button. “Yeah?”

He’s met with soft sniffling followed up with a quiet, “it’s me.”

At that, Joe sits up in his bed, all attention on the person on the other end. “Ri?” He’s wide awake now. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry to call so late—”

“What’s wrong?” He doesn’t care about that anymore, just wants to know what happened to make her phone him at such a time. To phone him crying, at that. That’s the part that makes him concerned.

He can’t remember the last time he’s seen or heard her do that.

He hears shuffling on the other end as she chokes out, “can you—can you come get me?”

It’s not even a question. “Send me your location. I’m on my way.”

—--

Joe nearly knocks down the damn mailbox in front of the frat house with how quickly he pulls up, his truck coming to an abrupt sudden stop. He’s barely got the truck shut off when he’s ripping the door open and jogging up the path to the house of entitled, elitist pricks who get off on the misery of others.

But, he’s more focused on Mariella who meets him halfway on the path of said house, arms wrapped around her body. 

He’s assessing her from head to toe, using the dim streetlight as a guide in the stark darkness of the night. “What happened?” Realizing she’s still hugging himself, Joe’s blood goes cold. “Did he touch you?” And when she doesn’t say anything right away, he’s trying to move past her, murder on his mind. “I’ll fucking kill him—”

“No.” Her hand is on his chest, restraining him as much as she can. The truth is that it would be nothing for him to carefully move her to the side and beat the living shit out of her asshole of a boyfriend who he’s never liked from day one. “He didn’t.”

Joe doesn’t put it past her to try to say what she thinks he wants to hear. “Ri, don’t lie to me.”

“I promise. He didn’t. We just—” and the emotion rises back up, making her pause as she pleads with him. “Can we just go? Please?”

Joe knows why she called him and not Byron. Because Joe nods and guides her to his truck without further protest. Byron would have beat Damien first and maybe or maybe not asked questions later for the mere fact that he made his baby sister cry. 

The ride back to his dorm is silent, and it’s not until they are sitting outside on the steps of Joe’s residence hall that he asks again, much calmer, still as curious, “what happened, Ri?”

It takes a few minutes for her to start talking, and while he does his best to be patient, it’s also really fucking hard to not just bypass the conversation and go straight back to the original plan of murder.

“We were—we were messing around.” Instantly, Joe’s anger suddenly shifts to disgust. While he recognizes his best friend’s little sister isn’t so little anymore, eighteen and a college freshman, she’ll always be that goofy, klutzy, theatrical kid who was always trying to hang out with him and Byron. So, hearing about her messing around is the last thing he wants, but he also doesn’t want to interrupt and allows her to continue. “He wanted to have sex, but I—I told him no.” And before the murder plan can be revived, she clarifies. “And he stopped, but then we started arguing, and he—he told me he was tired of waiting, but I said I’m not changing my mind and….and he broke up with me.”

In some strange sort of way, Joe is more relieved than anything, mostly at the fact that nothing physical happened. It sucks, and he hates seeing her upset, but it’s really a blessing in disguise. Even if she doesn’t see it yet.

Still, he’s sympathetic. “I’m sorry, Ri.”

She sniffles again, wiping at her eyes. “I really liked him and—and I thought he liked me.” 

Joe wants so badly to tell her that Damien never liked her. He liked that she was a virgin. 

Mariella had made the cardinal mistake of sharing with her ex that she was still a virgin, something the bastard, like Damien, thought he could change. When that didn’t happen and a breakup followed, that same asshole took it upon himself to share her virgin status with several friends, several teammates. And it’s become a bit of a contest almost among the basketball team, to see who can take it from her first.

It’s fucking disgusting and makes him sick, but it’s also the culture of college athletes. 

Some, at least. 

“He’s an idiot, Ri.” This is said both because it’s true but also because he just wants her to feel better, to not feel like she lost out on some prize. If anything, she dodged a bullet. 

“Maybe I’m the idiot.” She shakes her head and shrugs. “Cause I keep finding myself in the same situation.”

He’d like to call it an exaggeration, but Joe also knows that this has been an issue in almost all of her relationships for the past few years. Less an issue and more a deal breaker. Sex is something that’s deeply personal and important to her, and he’s happy she’s that way, that she isn’t just sleeping around with anyone. Especially since she seems to have a penchant for athletes. 

They can be the worst.

He would know.

“Athletes can be hoes, Ri. That has nothing to do with you.”

“You and B aren’t like that.” She then corrects with an ounce of her usual sense of humor. “I mean, you guys are hoes, but you’re nice hoes.”

He laughs. That’s a bit of the Mariella he’s used to. “True, but maybe we’re the exception.” He then takes a deep breath, speaking to her from the heart. “I’m not really sure, but what I do know is that Damien was an asshole who never deserved you in the first place. You’re better off without him.”

It’s the god’s honest truth. Ri is like his little sister, and it pained him to see her give someone like Damien the time of day, but he also respects that while he still sees her as a little kid, she isn’t. She’s a legal adult capable of making her own decisions, and he respects that.

“He had pretty eyes though.” Joe gives her a look, and for the first time, she actually, truly laughs. It’s music to his ears. “What? If I don’t laugh, I’ll just keep crying.” Her eyes light up with something other than sadness, and he watches her pull out her phone, suddenly typing away.

He doesn’t even need to ask. He’s seen this before. She’s inspired and is getting out the lyrics before they escape her. And a few minutes later, she reads to him what she’s come up with.

If I don't laugh, I'm gonna cry 

Don't wanna hear your name tonight 

I'm finally happy, not in the mood 

I don't wanna think about you

“I like it.” It’s the truth. He likes most of what she writes, outside of the shit that’s way too girly for his musical preference.

She offers him that brilliant smile, eyes twinkling with something similar to appreciation. Mariella grabs his bicep, laying her head against his shoulder. “Thanks, Joe.”

He looks down at her. “I’ve always got your back, Mariella.” And that’s a promise. “Always.”

—-------

“Mariella, this is fucking ridiculous.” Joe pulls the phone away from his face to get a specific, accurate time. “It’s almost 3 o’clock in the damn morning. Get home now before something happens to your ass.”

He then quickly jabs the red end button. It’s an unkind voicemail message to leave, but also one of several he’s left over the past two hours. The first was a lot more understanding, almost apologetic. Now he’s just fucking annoyed, because she said she needed air. He figured she’d go sit outside, on the patio, maybe even sit poolside. 

Not for her to take off for a late night car ride without telling him anything. It’s something she used to do once upon a time, when they were both broke nobodies trying to keep the dream alive. 

Such a far off, distant memory. 

Joe wishes he didn’t care. Wishes he could head to bed and let her be in her feelings. He’s got an afternoon flight out to a taping and needs to be at the airport by 10am. At this rate, he’s not going to get any quality sleep, and that shit annoys him to no end because he likes to be well rested for work. Especially in his line of work. 

Sleep deprivation can make a wrestler more prone to unnecessary injuries. 

Still, he also knows that even if he were to try to get some sleep, he’d twist and turn the whole night. He’s never been able to sleep well until she was home and safe.

But, she’s not, and that shit just pisses him off all over again. He grabs his phone, ready for yet another call to go straight to voicemail when it lights up, generic ringtone filling the sizable kitchen. He doesn’t even bother checking the caller, just hits the green button and jumps right into questioning. 

“Where the hell are you?” At this point, he’ll go pick her up his damn self just to see her two feet planted in their LA mansion. “This isn’t—”

“I’m sorry—” Joe is the one who’s sorry because that certainly isn’t Mariella. Confused, he pulls the phone away from his ear again to see that it’s an unfamiliar local number. Bringing it back so he can ask who the hell this is, the caller beats him to it. “I’m looking for Joe Anoa’i.”

The woman’s voice is professional, but there’s also a hesitation there. A hint of emotionality almost. 

Frowning, he answers, gruffly, “This is Joe.” He’s quick with the follow up. “Who is this?”

“My name is Leslie Owens, and I’m an officer with the Los Angeles Police Department.” And just like that, Joe knows his entire world is about to be flipped upside down. “I’m sorry to inform you, but your wife has been involved in a car accident….”

—-------

2013 

“Just a couple more steps….”

“Ri, this is stupid. I’m gonna open my eyes.”

He can hear her dramatic gasp as she squeezes his hand. “Don’t you dare ruin this moment for us, sir!”

“The moment’s gonna be really ruined if your accident prone ass makes me fall down these damn steps.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m only accident prone when it comes to myself. Not others.” She sounds so proud of this fact too. “Thank you very much.”

She makes him smile, but that’s a given. There’s always an immense amount of joy and contentment when he’s around her. Her positivity, while excessive at times, is calming. Always has been. 

He’s happy when he’s at least done with the steps and on a leveled surface. Recovery from face planting on pavement has to be easier than a tumble down three flights of steps.

That reminds him. “This place doesn’t have an elevator?”

She’s quick with the answer followed by the jangling of keys. “Naw. That was the other place, but it was out of our budget.”

He says nothing. It seems like a lot is out of their budget these days.

Joe can hear her insert the key as well as the turn of the door knob and subsequent creaking of a door. She’s pulling him forward and he naturally steps over the mantle that she surely would have let him trip over because of her obliviousness in the moment. 

It’s when she drops his hand that he knows the end of this unnecessary dramatic introduction to seeing the apartment for the first time is nearing an end. 

“And…..open!”

Joe doesn’t need to be told twice.

The first thing he sees is her beautiful smile as she stands before him with her arms stretched up and in a ‘v.’ “Welcome to our first place together as husband and wife!”

Looking around, it’s clear as day that Mariella is probably the nicest thing in his line of vision. It’s not a bad looking apartment, at all, just plain and clearly in need of some modernizing updates/renovations. 

He can tell she’s tried to make it a little more homey with the rug and curtains, as well as family photos, but it’s still a far cry from the kind of place he’d love for them to call home.

“It’s….something.”

Mariella rolls her eyes. “I mean, it’s not the Hilton, but it’s ours, and that’s all that matters.” She moves over to him, reaching to wrap her arms around his neck. His hands plant on her hips, holding her to him. “Sure, the balcony is basically a ledge, and our view is of a park, so it gets loud sometimes, and I may or may not have witnessed a crime the other day……hope he’s alright.” Her brows cave together in brief confusion before she shrugs and back to smiling like they just won a million dollars. “But that’s besides the point because every couple has their struggle origin story. This is just ours for now.”

He’ll be happy when they’re out of this chapter of said story. This is one of those times he somewhat wishes he waited to marry her until they were both in better financial places. More him than her. She deserves so much better than this. She deserves the world, and he’s going to give it to her one day. 

He just prays that day is sooner rather than later.

“Hey.” He looks down and refocuses his attention on her. “As long as I have you….I’m good.” She moves to lay her head against his chest, murmuring, “I love you, and you love me. That’s all I’ll ever need.” And in true Ri fashion, she gasps and pulls away, looking up with almost childlike excitement. “I almost forgot!”

In many years of knowing Mariella, Joe has learned it’s always best to just let her do her thing and see what happens versus trying to navigate the eccentric workings of her chaotic mind.

So he watches silently as she rushes over to the counter to dig through her purse and pulls out her phone. She does that rapid tapping and sliding of her fingers that she does when in a self assigned rush. Less than a minute later, he’s hit with an all too familiar opening piano followed by even more familiar lyrics.

It's undeniable

That we should be together

It's unbelievable

How I used to say, that I'd fall never

Joe smiles as she moves her way back over to him, reaching for his hand. “Our wedding first dance song to christen our first place together. We have to dance. It’s literally in the marriage rule book.”

He chuckles. “Oh, really?” 

“Duh.” She gasps and bites down on her bottom lip when he quickly yanks her toward him. Joe’s hand is on the small of her back as hers move up his check, locking behind his neck. “See….not so bad after all?”

He dances with her, but his attention is focused less on the music, even the dancing and just her. “Anything’s better if you’re there.” She beams up at him and giggles as he spins her so that her back lands against his chin. His head dips into her neck, as she places her hands on his forearms.

He’s taking her in, enjoying this moment with her when she says leadingly, “you know there’s another first we haven’t done yet to christen our place…..”

Joe makes a sound and presses a kiss to the side of her neck. “Hmm. And what is that?”

He can only imagine the way her cheeks must be tinged red as she answers almost as if she doesn’t want anyone to overhear. “That thing you’re really good at.” He smiles against her skin and holds her tighter. “I especially like when you do that one thing with your tongue and—Joe!” Too much talk, not enough clothes being taken off. He doesn’t hesitate to lift her over his shoulder, eager to show her just how much he also likes to do that ‘one thing’ with his tongue.

—-------

Present 

Two weeks.

Two weeks since he’s seen her big, beautiful smile.

Two weeks since he’s heard that infectious laugh.

Two weeks since he’s heard her voice.

Two weeks since the night that changed everything, the night that some idiot decided to drive drunk and crashed into her vehicle head on. 

Two weeks since she was airlifted to a Level 1 trauma center where her injuries were so severe that they immediately took her into surgery that saved her life in one way but couldn’t in another.

Because she has yet to wake up from the initial accident. 

Because it’s been two weeks since Mariella slipped into a coma. 

It’s been two weeks of that cruel waiting game, that slight smudge of hope that rises where the doctor comes in with just as much desire it’ll be a different prognosis only for the same thing to leave his mouth every time with that same disappointed expression.

“We just have to continue to wait.”

Joe isn’t sure he’s ever hated a saying more than he now hates that one.

Just like her mom and other family members, he's been at the hospital every day, just sitting for hours at her bedside, holding her hand that’s much colder than he’s used to. Than it should be. 

The room is silent, a type of silence he’s unused to. There’s never silence when Mariella is around. She’s always talking, always smiling, always laughing.

But not anymore.

Now she just lays there, unconscious, Joe praying more than he ever has in his entire life that he gets to see her pretty eyes yet again, hear her beautiful voice scream at him, sing to him, laugh at him, anything.

He just needs her.

The love and support from her fans has been astounding yet expected. She’s America’s Sweetheart. Music’s new queen. Everyone loves her. She’s received an endless amount of support, kind words, prayers, and well wishes from both fellow artists and fans. Though the fans seemed to have done the most. Even holding several vigils outside the hospital. And though he’s still pissed that piece of information got leaked, he knows she would be so moved by the love. 

Joe wasn’t entirely in agreement with sharing Mariella’s coma status with the world, but it was the decision that was eventually settled on by Iris, her manager, and the rest of her team with the family’s eventual blessing.

The specifics regarding her injuries, however, have remained confidential, and for that, he’s grateful.

He’s sitting on the side of the bed yet again, taking over the shift from April, Mariella’s mom, whose devastated expression hasn’t changed from the minute he had to tell her and the rest of her family what happened to now, as they all wait with all of the hopes and prayers in the world for the prognosis to change.

“This is the longest I’ve ever gone without hearing your voice.” Just saying it aloud feels strange, wrong even. That he gets to sit here and talk while she lays there, plugged up to a million machines, deprived of even that basic right. “I never knew I could miss something so much until now.”

And it’s the truth. 

Realizing his NFL dreams weren’t going to become a reality was devastating, but this….this is another level of hell.

“You said…you said you want me to love you again, but….but I can’t do that, Ri.” His hand is over hers, thumb rubbing the skin that’s not covered by the IV and large bandage. “I can’t do it again because I never stopped loving you in the first place.”

It’s a disgusting, pathetic feeling. To know that the words he should have said to her when everything first started falling apart can only leave his mouth after something like this occurs. After he’s so brutally reminded of the fragility of life and the importance of telling people how you feel when they’re still around.

There’s so much he needs to tell her, so much he needs to clear up, so much he needs her to tell him.

She deserves clarification.

He deserves answers.

Joe just prays he gets the chance for that to happen. 

It’s nearly seconds after that thought crosses his mind that he feels movement under his hand. His eyes snap up to see the one thing he’s prayed for every day for the past two weeks, the one thing he deep down was scared he would never see.

Mari’s brown eyes. Glossed and confused as all the outdoors, he sees them darting all around the room and feels her trying to move her hand. 

He’s not sure he’s even breathing anymore. “Ri?” It’s as she continues to blink and try to move her head that he realizes this isn’t some cruel hallucination. She’s awake.

Mariella is awake.

When the shock wears off, he all but runs to the door, ripping it open as he calls for the doctor, the nurse, any medical professional available to tend to her. 

Joe is right on the doctor’s heels as he moves quickly to her bedside, digging for something out of his white coat pocket. Joe moves to the other side of her bed, closely observing any and all interactions of both. 

“Mariella, I’m Dr. Reynolds, and I’ve been overseeing your care here.” Joe then looks back at his wife who seems more awake by the second but still with her mouth turned downward, like she’s lost at what’s happening. 

Mariella squints when the doctor shines the light in her eyes, wincing almost, and Joe has to catch himself from telling the doctor to be careful. 

“Do you remember what happened?” Dr. Reynolds asks, and Joe watches closely as she looks at him with the same level of confusion. “Can you tell me what year it is?”

His stomach drops when she shakes her head no.

“You were in a car accident.” The doctor’s voice takes on a different tone, something not as optimistic, more….ominous. “Can you give me your full name?”

Again, a slow shake of the head to answer no.

Joe goes to ask the doctor what’s going on, if this is some side effect that people can have when waking up from a coma, but the man is pointing in Joe’s direction as he asks a final question. “Do you know who this is?”

And it’s then, as she shakes her head ‘no’ yet again that Joe realizes what’s happening. A new kind of ruination overcomes him, making his throat suddenly feel almost as heavy as his heart.

It’s a heartbreaking realization that he has to say aloud because it feels almost too unreal to be true. 

“Her memories are gone….”

[beomie3]

tokyo 2 - choi beomgyu

pairing: boyfriend!beomgyu x fem!reader

word count: 18.6k

summary: your dream vacation to tokyo only gets better as you and your boyfriend continue exploring the newfound pool on the balcony of your hotel, but little do you know he has some surprises planned for you. ~lovers in the movies~ type of vibe.

content/warnings: established relationship, romance, fluff, kissing, cursing, some drinking, wholesome smut scene, (v much slow burn), just two lovers falling deeper in love <3

a/n: this is the sequel to my existing story "tokyo"! you can find it here if you haven't read it already :)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

♬ [soundtrack]

sunsetz - cigarettes after sex

every color - luca fogale

fallingforyou - the 1975

over the moon - the marias

double take - dhruv

the dress - dijon

baby blue - frazier blue

peach eyes - wave to earth

astronomy - conan gray

get you the moon - kina

electric love - night traveler

take me where your heart is - Q

skin - dijon

hold on - flor

japanese denim - daniel caesar

tonight - summer walker

to love - suki waterhouse

sweet - cigarettes after sex

intro: serendipity - bts

fairy of shampoo - txt

striptease - carwash

sweet disposition - the temper trap

lover - taylor swift

feels like - gracie abrams

you! - lany

turning page - sydney rose

heaven - niall horan

nap of a star - txt

yellow - coldplay

immerse yourself in the story & listen while you read for a cinematic experience :) it’s a bit long, but the songs go along with the story!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

what could he possibly have in mind? you chuckled to yourself as you stood outside by the newly discovered infinity pool, gazing out at the twinkling city as your white sundress swayed gently with the lukewarm breeze.

the sun had set its glimmering eye behind the city's tall buildings, eventually only the skyline's silhouette left as the sky glowed a dim hue of orange. beomgyu had asked you to stay outside, that he'd be right back after he ran into the hotel room to do something. of course, you wondered what the hell your mischievous boyfriend could be up to. but you enjoyed the thrill of what was to come; he always had something exciting up his sleeve.

you noticed the way the full moon slowly brightened in the sky, moving in opposite tandem with the sun. it had been visible throughout the day, just a faint whisper in the sky, almost invisible.

you always found it most beautiful when the sun and moon were both visible in the sky at the same time. it reminded you of how opposite they are, yet how beautifully they complement one another.

every once and a while you glanced proudly over your shoulder at your boyfriend's newest discovery; the shimmering pool and hot tub, its water reflecting the city lights like a mirror. the day's memories dawned over you, a special one immediately blooming like a flower in your mind; the events of when beomgyu sang wonder for you on the bridge several nights ago. a smile crawled onto your lips as a result, one you wouldn't quite be able to rid for the rest of the night.

~

as the final tinge of sunlight faded its way from the sky, a deep shade of red, almost burgundy, tinted the navy blue abyss. you had been so infatuated with the beauty of the melting sunset you were unaware that the sliding glass door had been closed by beomgyu as he had returned. but of course, you hadn't heard a thing because he made sure to close it as gently as possible, tip-toeing his way over to you as quiet as a ghost.

he didn't want to scare you, but he slightly startled you with his unsuspecting touch as he gently pressed his chest to your back. you only tensed for a brief moment until you concluded it was your boyfriend, relaxing under his warmth as he wrapped his arms around your waist, clasping his hands softly over your stomach. to bring him even closer, you crossed your arms to reach around your own torso, trailing your fingers up his arms as you held him tightly.

you sensed the weight of his chin on your left shoulder, feeling his gentle breaths fan against your exposed skin, the warmth of his cheek under your ear as he snuggled into the crook of your neck.

the feeling you got from his hugs, especially the ones from behind, was something so warm, so fuzzy in your heart. everything about him; his sweet aroma, feather-soft lips as they grazed your skin. he gave you a feeling of comfort you never knew was even possible.

the crimson-tinted sky had almost fully disappeared as the sun was long gone under the horizon, only a subtle whisper of deep red left to fade away into the darkness.

"the sunset is so pretty," he whispered against your ear, a chill aching to race up your spine at the warmth of his breath against you. you smiled at his comment. his statement was true, but there was something else- someone who topped it. the man standing behind you with his arms snaked around you. he radiated the most beauty.

"but not as pretty as you." "but not as pretty as you."

"jinx!" "jinx!

you both had shouted the same thing word for word, like you knew exactly what the other was thinking. and that wasn't a rarity; it was often that you yelled jinx at each other. but every time, your similar ways of thinking surprised you more than the last. it was literally like you shared the same brain cells.

he giggled adorably at the fact you two had said the exact same thing; head thrown back as you felt his chest heave in laughter against your back.

"i said it first so.. jinx you owe me a soda!" you giggled, angling your head up to get a look at him. a subtle tinge grew across your cheeks at how close his face was to yours; soft skin and sharp jawline adjacent to your gaze, your heart pounding as his large eyes quickly focused into yours.

"but what if i said it first?" he tilted his head playfully, ever so slowly inching his face closer to yours as his eyes pulled you into their deep brown trance.

"then you still owe me a kiss," you returned his playfulness, but really, you weren't joking so much as you were telling the truth. you really did want to kiss him in this moment. his eyes so irresistibly gazing into yours, so deeply you could already feel his lips on yours before either of you even made a move.

his lips twitched upward at your request, inching his face so close to yours until the tips of your noses touched. "i can do that," he whispered through a small giggle, his toothy grin gleaming like the rays of sun that had long disappeared beyond the horizon.

grazing his fingertips along your jaw, he neared his face to yours, closing the tiny gap that was left between your lips to unite. a heartfelt kiss it was; one full of such joy that you could feel his smile grow against your lips, getting a subtle taste of his cherry chapstick. you couldn't resist letting out a few giggles at how quickly your heart was beginning to fill with such warmth.

the kiss was deepened as you turned to face him by standing on your tiptoes, snaking your arms around his neck to pull him down even closer. when it seemed as if your bodies couldn't get any closer, they did as he wrapped his arms tightly around your lower back, pulling you so close that his warmth cradled you. at this point, your teeth had even begun to clash due to how big your smiles had grown, no lips even left to kiss because of how curled they were from your toothy grins.

at the realization of this, beomgyu pulled away, examining your smiling face; his favorite expression of yours. your eyes fluttered open and you stared back at his ginormous grin and glittering eyes, your cheeks beginning to ache and tighten from how large your smile had grown. but he looked too damn cute, how could you not be smiling like an idiot?

"no but really, the sunset is not as pretty as you," he remarked, exaggeratedly shaking his head to get his point across.

opening your mouth to argue back, he read the awaiting comeback forming on your lips as he suddenly tightened his arms below your hips, picking you up off the ground before you could even say a word. forgetting what you wanted to say at an instant, your attention shifted to the fact that beomgyu was now walking you over to the large, glowing pool.

"gyu what are you doing!?" you yelled through a hysteric laugh, heart racing at how close he was getting to the edge of the water. is he planning on throwing me in?? was all your mind could process.

you were half right. "brace yourself!" was what he yelled as he ran full speed off the ledge, jumping into the deep end of the pool with you in his arms. and with a wave of thrill in your chest, a yell-like laugh left your mouth, one you had inherited from none other than your boyfriend.

you shut your eyes and made sure to release air out of your nose as you felt your body make contact with the lukewarm water, immediately coming up for a breath as you both became submerged.

although you were slightly annoyed at beomgyu with the fact that you had been unexpectedly catapulted into a pool with every last article of your clothing on, that feeling didn't even last longer than five seconds when you felt his hand grip your ankle underwater.

you couldn't help but roll your eyes and smile, filling your lungs with oxygen before plunging back underwater to find him. although the chlorine stung your eyes a bit when you opened them, the feeling quickly went away as you got used to it.

you discovered his tall figure floating beneath yours like a dark shadow; made up of his darkened hair, black baggy shirt and shorts as they floated loosely in the turquoise light. not to mention, his hand firmly around your ankle as he swam further toward the bottom of the pool, trying to pull you to him.

you quickly freed your ankle from his grasp with a few tugs, excitedly swimming headfirst as deep as you could into the deep end to catch up with him at the bottom. the water ran it's cool fingers through your hair as you swam deeper, entranced with the way it engulfed you.

he stared up at you with large, innocent eyes, auburn hair floating freely around his head, cheeks filled with air. he held his arms out to you, waiting for you to swim into them, his cuteness only enticing you to swim faster.

both of your hearts pulsated rapidly every passing second you maintained eye contact; two lovers yearning to be reunited.

when you reached him, you swam into his arms, wrapping yourself around his baggy shirt that floated around him, and he looped his arm around your waist, baggy dress surrounding your body like a fluffy cloud. your hair floated around your body, similar to your dress.

bubbles of oxygen escaped your noses every now and then as you stared at one another underwater, admiring the way your faces glowed in the turquoise ambiance of the pool light.

his eyelashes; quick to draw your attention. their pretty length and how gently they batted against his cheeks whenever he blinked. even picking up on the tiny oxygen bubbles which floated up toward the surface at every bat of his eye.

even underwater, with your vision blurred and all- he was absolutely beautiful. it was like a dream; features lit by the fuzzy, baby-blue ambiance of the water around him. he was constantly astonishing you with his beauty.

and he noticed your soft skin and bright eyes and the way your hair flowed behind you; watching it glide underwater in slow motion like the hair of a goddess. he reached out to touch it as if it were calling his name, his movements so soft and gentle, inviting your fingers to his hair as well.

noses grazing one another's, his dreamy gaze peered into yours, trailing down to your lips and in a flash they were locked to yours.

kissing underwater felt much different than the countless kisses you had shared. this kiss was a lot softer; the taste of chlorine lingering in your mouth instead of his signature taste. it felt as if you were kissing a soft, velvety pillow; the way his lips closed around yours delicately, savoring every last second until you began running out of air.

unable to hold it any longer, you tugged on his shirt and he took this cue to return back to the surface, pulling you up with him.

you had surprised yourself with how long you and beomgyu were able to hold your breath as the sky had now faded to pitch black when you came back from your blue dream, up to the real world. no more dusty crimson clouds, now only the small speckles of stars shining brightly, matching with the tiny, lit windows of the skyline far away. but really, it best resembled the sparkle of his eyes.

this view. you swam to the pool's ledge, supporting yourself on the cement with your elbows. your eyes fixed on the view on the other side of the infinity pool, simply breath taken by just how beautiful the city sparkled all around you.

"it's so beautiful," you whispered against the tile of the pool wall, your heart racing in excitement over it all; this was like- the best view of tokyo anyone could have.

you sensed beomgyu swim up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist like he always does.

"hi~" his soft breath fanned against your ear. although the water was lukewarm, your skin still became chilled with sudden goosebumps ignited by his touch.

you sighed as he pressed wet kisses on the top of your shoulder, using his hand to gently massage the other one, soothing your priorly tensed muscles. the sudden shift of the ambiance invited a gentle wave of heat throughout your body as his fingers trailed down your arm so softly, the ache of goosebumps pelting your skin.

"is this the surprise you had for me, gyu?" you smirked with your head tilted to one side, exposing your neck for easy access for him to continue drowning the area in kisses.

he hummed against your soft flesh, leaving a trail of smooches from your shoulder to the base of your ear. and with the deepest, most gentle of voices, he breathed his response.

"just wait a bit longer, angel. that comes later." he whispered in your ear with the voice you couldn't even begin to express your love for. your heart pulsated in excitement for whatever was to come.

you both just sat there staring out at the view, his chin on your shoulder, observing the tiny cars on the street moving in what seemed like slow motion.

you at kicked each other's feet underwater as you made up a game to play; the game of which window light will turn off next? in which you had to guess which window light will be the next to go dark out of all the hundreds of lit windows. surprisingly, beomgyu won twice.

you had a long conversation about what you think each person in each window is doing. "i think that person is making ramyeon and getting ready to binge their favorite show," you announced, pointing confidently at the small speck of light glowing from the distant window.

he giggled. "and that person is getting ready for a date night with the love of their life," he pointed at another set of dim curtains.

"sounds like us," you commented, turning to gaze at him from behind you. he smiled large, looking up at you with puppy eyes. he was so adorable, you couldn't ever resist the urge to pepper his face with kisses. so you did just that.

~

simply relaxing in the pool just wouldn't cut it for beomgyu, it wasn't long before his shenanigans began again. "bet you can't beat me!" he shouted, quickly doggy paddling over to the other end of the pool, swimming away with a few large splashes at you to get an advantage.

the beomgyu advantage was always the most mischievous, unfair, and downright comical card he would pull when he felt in the mood to be a trickster. his mischief was known well between mutual friends and pretty much his entire family. he was always known as the class clown, that was your first impression of him when you met in college.

you always tried to get back at him, though, rolling your eyes with a certain competitive playfulness only he brought out in you. you swam after him as fast as you could, yearning to grab a piece of his shirt that floated loosely behind him.

before he could reach the ledge of the pool, you grabbed the material of his shirt, pulling him towards you and then wrapped your arms around him to climb onto his back. squeezing him tightly from behind you dug your chin into his neck, tickling him to no end. at this he yelled his usual, loud and exaggerated yell.

when he was distracted enough, you crawled around his body, pushing off of him to grab the ledge of the pool, throwing your arms up in victory.

"i won! i won!," you cheered, applauding yourself for successfully getting him back amidst his mischief. he smiled through large huffs, still catching his breath from the whole event. paddling toward you with a shrug in defeat, he softly placed his hands on your waist. a tiny smirk on his lips.

you were slightly suspicious; he didn't usually admit defeat this easily. and just at the brink of thought, before you could even move a muscle, he closed his fingers tightly around your waist, digging them into your most hyper-sensitive areas. he tickled you right back. waves of ticklish discomfort and laughter dispersed throughout your body, fighting to free yourself from him.

"i'll stop if you kiss me," he scrunched his face as water splashed him with how much you squirmed, immediately crashing your lips to his at the sound of his compromise. and as if he completely forgot what he was even doing, he melted right into the kiss, softening his grip on your waist.

but the kiss didn't last longer than two seconds as you quickly pecked his lips, leaving him with a pout; it was your way of teasing him back, sticking your tongue out at him with an evil smile. a cocky grin formed on his face as his bottom lip found its way between his teeth; you had only left him wanting more.

there was a sudden knock at the front door of your hotel room right before he could plot his revenge, his eyes fixated to you with a certain demise. but his face softened when your wide eyes fell to his, not able to stay annoyed at you for longer than two seconds at the sight of your curious expression.

"be right back," he softly pecked your lips before swimming away to the shallow steps; quickly exiting the pool with the sound of his drenched clothing pattering on the slick cement like heavy rainfall.

you observed his every move as he stepped out of the pool; the way his wet clothing clung so seamlessly to his body left you mesmerized.

your eyes didn't know where to focus due to the entirety of his beauty, so they were slowly drawn to the outline of his broad shoulders and abdomen through his shirt; admiring the way water dripped from his shorts down his long legs. and to say the least, the sight had you flustered by the second. your gaze trailed back up to his face; half covered by strands of dark, wet hair. god was he beautiful.

lazily drying himself off with a towel and throwing it over his shoulder, he quickly ran into the hotel room. the sound of him speaking briefly to the mystery person at the door in japanese echoed through the room. then after a few seconds, the sound of him closing the door, faintly heard by you from the pool.

the anticipation built up as the quick patter of his footsteps returned. he then emerged from the white curtain of the sliding glass door with what looked like a bottle of champagne and two thin, tall glasses.

a large grin surfaced to your lips as he pranced over to you, a pep in his step as he enthusiastically showcased the large bottle in hand.

"the finest champagne for the finest lady," he gestured, a sweet smile on his delicate lips that you could kiss for an eternity.

one of many things that you absolutely loved about choi beomgyu was how romantic he was. everything from flowers to chocolates, rose petal baths, or the way he caressed your body, the way he respected and cherished you. he never failed to make your heart melt, ever since day one.

"awww beomie!!" you swam over to the shallow end in excitement to where he awaited with an outstretched hand, offering it to you once you got close enough to the steps.

he helped you out of the pool, your white dress heavy with water as you wrung some of its weight out. you hugged his waist, shirt sticking to his skin now cold and damp.

suddenly, a gust of wind swept through the patio, instantly freezing your wet skin, the absence of body heat making you shiver.

"gyu, bring the champagne over to the hot tub!!" you exclaimed, quickly tip-toeing your way over to the warm relief of steaming water. you didn't notice your boyfriend's lingering eyes on you, observing your every move. he was cold too, but you warmed his heart with how cute you looked as you ran with a skip in your step, noticing the way your dress hugged your body closely.

walking over to the steaming hot tub, he set the bottle and glasses down with a clink, near the edge for easy access, not tearing his gaze from you once.

as you began to step into the bubbling water, you sucked air through your teeth, scoffing at the sheer heat of it. you decided to take it slow, holding onto the metal bar for support, inching your way into about knee height until you could tolerate the pleasurable burn.

"do you want me to help you in, pretty?" he asked as he noticed your struggle. with a nod of your head, he stepped into the steaming water onto the step behind you, softly hugging your waist for a moment to get by. he then lowered himself onto the step in front of you, turning to face you, his chin level with your chest.

your heart leaped at the beautiful sight before you; his face, fresh and adorned with dark, wet locks. not to mention his large, sparkling eyes looking up at you innocently as he maintained all eye contact.

he smiled sweetly as a dimple appeared on his cheek, nearing his face closer to your chest until his lips met the lacy material of your dress' neckline, not once tearing his gaze from yours.

to him, it was pretty much impossible not to give in. you're drop-dead gorgeous in your white sundress; the moon illuminating the dew of your skin, wet hair swept gorgeously over your shoulder. he was just head over heels for you.

you could feel his smile grow between your breasts as he grinned against the wet material of the dress but then pulled away, giving you a small wink. a little tease he was.

gently biting at your lip, you smirked, playfully rolling your eyes at his teasing gesture. he smiled back, followed by a low giggle; he knew perfectly what he was doing. you splashed water at him. teasing one another; a never-ending game it was.

"are you gonna help me in or what?" you put your hands on your hips, tilting your head to add a little more sass. he grinned at your gesture and threw two hands up in defense, finding your sassiness the cutest thing in the world.

"okay, okay! here, i'll get in first and then you get on my shoulders and i'll slowly lower you in," he suggested, turning around and sinking down further into the water until only his head poked out of the steaming surface.

you could only think- how on earth was he able to wade neck deep into the hot tub without a second of hesitation?? the water felt like molten lava. maybe he is an actual bear disguised as a handsome boy.

he turned to look at you, one of his thick eyebrows raised in question under his wet hair, as to ask what's taking you so long.

you giggled at him, walking forward until your thighs were pressed against his back. you balanced as you put one leg on his right shoulder, and then the other.

using your free hands, you placed them under his chin to better secure yourself onto him, laughing as your thighs nearly engulfed his neck. taking this cue, he began walking forward, your stomach jolting at the heat climbing up higher and higher on your skin.

finally, the two of you were amidst the bubbling water, goosebumps decorating your skin at the pleasurable sensation the heat dispersed all over your body. you climbed down from his shoulders and onto his back, hugging the loose material of his shirt, which tickled your skin with every of his movements.

he took you into his arms playfully, hugging you tightly underwater. these kinds of embraces were best; when he pressed you so close you could hardly catch your next breath.

the two of you sat in silence for a while, nuzzling into his shoulder as you basked in the whir of bubbles, moonlight, the city view; just enjoying the moment.

"ah! how could i forget," he suddenly exclaimed from beside you, calling your attention as he shifted his weight around. he reached over, pulling the champagne from out of its ice-filled bucket.

he used his strength to twist the cork off, leaving you infatuated at the way the veins in his arms accentuated in this steamy lighting. a loud pop sounded as bubbles began to gush from the bottle, his loud laugh overpowering your small cheers as he raised the bottle in the air like it was a trophy he had just won. we won't talk about the one time he pelted you in the head with the cork on your twenty-first birthday.

he noticed the way you slightly hid behind his shoulder at the pop of the bottle, leaning over to kiss your forehead, right over the long-gone (once bright purple) bruise of the cork.

"i haven't forgotten about that," he cooed into your skin, pecking the area once more.

"cheers to not getting pelted by the cork this time," you raised your glass in the air once he had filled two servings with the fizzy drink. he interjected; "aaaaand for also for being the best girlfriend in the world," he nudged you with his elbow and you rolled your eyes playfully, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"cheers, i guess" you chimed in sarcastically, trying to hide your smile, failing miserably when his laughter controlled your senses, collapsing your head into his shoulder. you clinked your glasses together before taking a sip of the bubbly beverage, its peach sparkle tickling your mouth.

"mmm peach!" you closed your eyes in delight, taking another sip of the stinging carbonation. "delicious like you," he replied smoothly like always, never failing to make you blush with his cheesy yet adorable remarks.

you sipped on the bubbly goodness slowly growing relaxed, observing the city lights grow brighter as the night became more alive. it wasn't long before you two became a hysterical mess, taking turns pouring champagne into one another's mouths and competing to see who could go the longest without laughing and spitting it out everywhere. your face ached with how much you smiled with puffed cheeks, fighting the urge to absolutely lose it (ultimately losing it).  

downing the last of the champagne together, you watched as some drizzled out of his mouth and down his neck, following a path over his adams apple, admiring the sexy sight. you licked the trail from his neck and soon, fingers were intertwined in his hair, lips interlocked, tasting the peach bubbles inside eachother's mouths, messily making out with it. you just wanted to taste every bit of him.

~

moments passed as the once delirious mood slowly faded into the night. the two of you laid your heads back so that they perfectly reclined on the smooth tile that rimmed the jacuzzi. warm steam and moonlight cast onto your faces brightly, illuminating every little expression, smile, and laugh as you talked about anything and everything.

"i think that's saturn," he spoke enthusiastically from beside you, pointing up at one of many small specks in the dark sky.

"really? because what i remember from taking that astronomy class like- sophomore year, it's actually mars," you teased, looking over at him with that smart-alec expression you liked to use. he returned the expression, crossing his arms dramatically underwater as he formulated a comeback.

"well, from what i remember in astronomy class was that i got an A plus and you got an A minus," he retorted, looking over at you with a proud expression, lips protruding, head tilted back. you couldn't help but notice the resemblance between him and a little duck in this moment, and all the moments he was proud of himself or simply just being a goofball.

you rolled your eyes, trying your hardest to keep a serious expression by pushing your smile down, but it just couldn't stay down; one glance at his face and your lips contorted into the biggest grin ever. he turned to look at you with a smile of his own, moonlight illuminating every crevice of his features from his dimple to the little whiskers that formed next to his doe eyes, your heart aflutter.

your squeezed his hand underwater, turning to look back up at the speckled sky, focusing on the bright moon directly above you. your smile settled as you entered a moment of thought, drifting to one you held deeply, one that settled your mood into a more solemn one, your heart heavy with it.

"you know, its crazy to think that we only live once, and that one day we'll just be...gone," you spewed out, eyes so focused on the moon that you could begin to see its craters. at this, beomgyu looked over at you in all seriousness. he dawned over your remark for a while, just the breeze and gentle jacuzzi bubbles heard between you.

"but i think that's what makes life beautiful, in a way. that we're only here for a limited amount of time. and i'm grateful i get to spend it with you," he responded, his soft voice like the small glowing clouds floating amongst the moon. you turned to look at him to find him already looking at you, cheek squished against the tile of the jacuzzi. his eyes radiated nothing but light.

you thought; if you could, you would give him the moon. out of everything he's done for you, who he is as a person; that was the least he deserved. really, it seemed that nothing on this planet could shine brighter than the light that radiated off of this boy.

but if you could just see it from his perspective, you didn't need to give him the moon, because he already had you. and that was all he needed. you were his moon and he was your sun. like the sun and moon; you both shine brightly, no matter how much you might contrast; you are ultimately perfect just the way you are.

because when the sun and the moon are in the sky at the same time, they are even more beautiful together.

you just sat there in silence, the sides of your cheeks pressed to the cool tile as you stared at one another, smiles slowly fading as thickness fogged the air. his gaze fixed on each of your eyes individually, searching them like they were treasure chests filled with gold. your face warmer than the hot tub steam.

"dummy" he thwarted your forehead with his index and thumb, a gesture he made to lighten the mood. "you know i'll be by your side forever, " he rolled his eyes with a small chuckle. he was right. you giggled, forgetting about your solemn mood.

faces only inches apart, his smile settled so that his lips were now only slightly parted, moving slowly to meet them with yours. your lips locked at the slowest pace possible, perfectly connecting like the last piece of a puzzle; like they were made for each other. he gently took your bottom lip in between his. you felt his warm, wet hand on the side of your face, droplets of water scurrying from his wrist to your cheek and then down to your neck.

the kisses were slow and passionate, sucking at his full lips as he occasionally nibbled at yours. beomgyu was such a great kisser, caressing your face and neck with a gentle touch, smoothly gliding his tongue in all the right places, making the most of every second your lips were connected.

it gave you goosebumps how good he was, actually. every single kiss was always absolutely perfect, no matter how many you had shared together; quick ones, silly ones, drunk ones, teary-eyed ones, passion-filled ones. it always felt like the first, hearts beating quickly as a subtle warmth blanketed you.

"i love you to the moon and back," you whispered against his nose once you had come up for a breath. this was a rather new thing you had begun saying to one another, one that really only started since coming to japan. it was like the moon radiated so much brighter here, when in reality was most likely just an illusion. it was your love that was glowing more than ever.

"well i love you way beyond the moon," he one-upped you, a small smile on his lips as he rejoined them to yours. as you shared your kiss, a small rumble came from the sky, a cool drop of water pelting your forehead.

drop after drop began plopping into the water around you, inviting a soft gasp from your boyfriend's lips. but you just kissed there, basking in peaceful silence, enjoying the pattering of rain all around you. he held your hand underwater, clutching it tighter as the rain fell harder. it was like you were the only two people in the entire world and the rain only added to its ambiance.

the pace that he kissed you slowed until you pulled away to meet his starry gaze. the rain quickened, plopping into the hot tub steadily, matting your hair down even more than it already was.

without a word, he began pulling you to the jacuzzi steps until you exited its warmth with the heaviness of your white sundress. your clothes, drenched in water, enhanced the pitter-patter on the concrete creating a rainfall of your own.

walking you over to the small platform that was the bit of open space next to the jacuzzi with a perfect view of the city, he turned to face you with his hand outstretched.

"may i have this dance?" he held his hand out, bowing his head and all. you giggled; he still managed to charm you no matter how cheesy he was at times. but what more could this boy possibly do to make you fall deeper in love? you thought it was impossible to love someone more than you did him; you just loved him more and more every day that your heart ached.

grinning, you took his hand, melting into him as you pressed the side of your cheek to the damp fabric of his chest, beginning to gently sway with the gentle beat of the rain. the moonlight peeked through a haze of clouds above you as the rain fell with its signature murmur, cool droplets pelting your skin.

two star-crossed lovers dancing under the bright speckles of the night sky; you couldn't ask for anything better in this moment. it was absolutely perfect.

he rested his cheek on the crown of your head, beginning to hum a gentle, unfamiliar tune. must be a new song he's writing, you thought to yourself, as that's what was usually the case when he hummed a foreign tune.

he hugged your lower back, fiddling with the frayed edge of your wet dress with his eyes closed, opening them to meet yours when you looked up at him. he knew that curious gleam in your eye the moment he saw it; a yearning to ask a question without asking it. he knew you all too well.

"it's called nap of a star," he enlightened you with his soft voice. "i only have the melody and first few lyrics figured out though, it's a work in progress." he smiled, kissing the tip of your nose before looking out at tokyo's city lights.

you observed the city's glimmer in his dark eyes, large and filled with wonder. his eyes were filled with his sort of searching. like any little detail in the air could be used as inspiration for his song.

"will you sing it for me when it's done?" you asked without tearing your gaze from him once.

he glanced back down at you with smiling eyes "i promise," he answered without hesitation. deep down, he loved that question with his entire heart, no matter how nervous he'd get when the actual moment came. he loved that you wanted to hear his music. after all, it was the most vulnerable of his creations. only the most special person did he choose to share it with.

~

it wasn't until a crack of thunder and a bright flash of lightning not too far ahead that you both decided it was no longer safe to be outside. interesting how such a beautiful thing could quickly become something dangerous.

"i have something to show you," he pulled you towards the sliding door of the hotel room, hands interlaced tightly as your drenched clothes sloshed with every step. you giggled as excitement brimmed within you, following your boyfriend's wet footprints on the cement.

approaching the sliding glass door, beomgyu halted you in your steps; practically walking straight into what felt like a wall as he stood in front of the curtain with his arms crossed, denying you entry to the room.

"are you ready?" he questioned you. of course, your large smile gave your obvious answer away.

"close your eyes for me," he ordered, his voice chiming from behind you now as everything had faded to pitch black with the warmth of his hands cupped over your eyes. he blindly led you through the sliding glass door, finding your footing into the cold, hotel-scented air of the room.

he began counting down from three once you took a step into the room, slowly removing his hands when he reached one.

"tadaaaaa," his sweet voice chimed from behind you as you slowly fluttered your eyes open to reveal what had your hand over your mouth.

before you, a large heart decorated the king-sized bed with what you quickly made out to be rose petals, the room flickering with the light of candles all around the bedside table. a soft glow of fairy lights decorated the headboard, the faint sound of your playlist echoing in the background. it was absolutely perfect. the ambiance was like something out of a dream.

"choi beomgyu you did not!" you jumped into his arms, looking into his eyes with such elation and gratitude. so this is was what he was busy doing several hours ago before he catapulted me into the pool, you realized.

"this is amazing," your heart lept with love and adoration for him that you simply wanted to explode, hugging him as tight as humanly possible, earning a groan from him.

you looked around the room some more to discover flower petals scattered in a pathway leading to the bathroom. he had the entire night planned just for the two of you, romance just seeped in the air.

he grabbed your hand, inviting you further into the room. to this, you sensed just how soggy your clothes were pressed against you.

"wait gyu, my clothes are drenched," you halted, pulling the wet fabric over your head and tossing it onto the patio outside with a heavy thud. beomgyu just watched in awe, nearly forgetting his own name because of how beautiful you looked in your lacy bra and underwear.

everything about the way you pulled it off of yourself was so sexy to him, the sight of lace pressed against your bare skin left him mesmerized. he just stood there admiring you, shaggy hair fluffed over dazed eyes as his damp clothing clung to his increasingly warm skin. he just couldn't wait to take the rest of it off of you.

he snapped back into reality when your eyes locked, looking down at his own wet clothes sticking to his skin; large black shirt and shorts. he began to lift his shirt off when he felt a sudden lightness as you helped him pull it over his head.

you blindly chucked the soaked shirt outside next to your abandoned white dress with another hefty thud. his hair had been ruffled from the wet shirt, inviting a soft grin to your lips at how handsome he looked. you loved it when his hair was all messy like this, adorning him with a kind of sexiness you couldn't even begin to describe. you thought maybe he would be able to see the hearts floating in your eyes if he looked deep enough.

"what?" he questioned, tilting his head to one side curiously as he noticed the rosy tinge on your cheeks, a smile on his pretty lips. instead of telling him the truth about what you were fawning over, you continued gliding your fingers down his now bare torso, until you reached the waistband of his shorts.

his eyes followed your fingers, which gently ghosted over the imprint of the growing tent in his briefs, only for a second as you returned to glide them back up his chest, then to the soft skin of his face. he watched you in awe, attentive to every trace and trail left by your fingers.

using your thumb, you gently swiped it over the delicate skin of his bottom lip, pulling it down to barely reveal the glimmer of his teeth. standing on your tip toes, you inched your face ever so slowly, so close to his until your noses touched, so focused into the depths of his eyes.

"what about these?" you whispered against his lips, hooking a finger under his waistband and releasing it with a snap.

lips parted, he stared deeply into your gaze, searching from one eye into the other with a hungry glimmer, making your heart beat quicker than ever before. the look he gave you at this very moment; you could simply collapse with the intensity of it.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your hips tightly against his. you knew damn well what you were doing as a low grunt escaped his throat, sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth at the sensation. he couldn't handle one more passing second of this bone-crushing tension as he finally gave in, pressing his lips to yours so passionately hard.

"you're irresistible," he mumbled with a clenched jaw, crashing your lips back together like they were magnets. the kisses were deep and desperate, hungry for each other as you fumbled with the waistband of his shorts again, trying to undo the tedious knot of the strings as you both began stumbling into the room.

dropping his wet shorts to the floor, he kicked them out of the room as he slid the glass door closed with his foot, blindly walking backward. your hands on his chest as he cupped your face, messily kissing you.

as his heel reached the base of the bed, you lightly pushed him down so that he plopped down on the bed's edge. you stood in between his slightly spread legs, his lips level to your chest as he stared up at you with doe eyes; mouth parted as his bottom lip caught on the lace material of your bra, pulling you close.

this time a glint of lust crept into his large gaze; a certain glint you could read from a mile away. he needed you. all of you.

feather light, he skimmed his fingers down your now bare legs, the absence of your skirt intensifying the sensitivity of your skin.

small water droplets fell from the ends of your hair and dripped down onto his bare chest. you almost thought they would evaporate at the contact due to how hot his skin was growing against yours. he trailed his hands up your back, skimming the clasp of your bra, doing everything in his power not to just rip it right off of you.

cupping his jaw, you crashed your lips to his again and amidst a deep makeout, he undid the clasp of your bra, sensing its pressure release from your back until it hung lazily on your chest. he pulled back to observe it slide down your damp skin, gentle fingers helping the straps from your shoulders. he watched as your bare chest became revealed in front of his eyes.

a small, mischievous grin formed on his lips and you wondered what his next move could possibly be. he took your bra and put it on like a hat; cups atop his head, straps secured under his chin. he looked like the bear he was.

this reminded you of a nickname you used to call him: beomie bear. it used to even be his contact name for the longest time way back when you barely started dating. you smiled, recalling the ridiculously cute endearment that just fit him perfectly. you both laughed at his silliness.

"beomie bear" you giggled, pecking his lips as he gasped dramatically. he wore a huge grin on his face, pretty teeth shining brightly as his mouth fell open in surprise.

"you haven't called me that in years!" he kissed you back, chest filling with warmth at the special endearment of his name. hugging your waist, he pressed his cheek to your chest as you ruffled his damp hair, memories flooding back.

it took him back to the early months of your relationship; when you were still a bit shy with one another romantically, but also a pair of best friends who had dance parties in your dorm room at 2am while eating ramen and doing facemasks.

he remembered the exact moment you called him that name; it was when slid your fluffy bear headband over his (once) blonde hair to do his skincare one night in the bathroom of your dorm after movie night, kissing his face with how cute he looked. your voice rang through his memories; haha you look like a bear! my beomie bear. your smiling face replayed in his daydream, the elation of that moment returning to him.

that memory was a passing thought in your mind too, remembering how young and in love you had always been. if anything, your love had grown double, triple that. but he will always be your beomie bear, no matter how much you age together, the love you shared at 2am in that dorm room will always last.

pulling back, his eyes trailed down to admire your chest, teeth over his bottom lip as he smiled. the way the soft candlelight flickered on your damp skin; it was absolutely perfect in his eyes. dropping the makeshift bra hat, he moved his cool hands to palm each of your breasts. you sighed in response, a certain heat tickling your core as he placed a single kiss in between them.

he wanted to show you how much he loved you every day, and in these particular moments, he wanted to make you feel his love in every way possible.

his parted lips skimmed your chest, breath warming your skin before taking one of your buds into his mouth. he slowly swirled it with his tongue while gently squeezing the other, staring up at you with those eyes. the eyes you couldn't ever resist. the crash of thunder electrified your skin, rain drumming against the window like your heart against your chest.

your breathing grew heavier by the second, hands tangled into his hair as you hugged him close to your body, subtle whimpers escaping your mouth as you grew more and more desperate for him.

you angled his face up to yours with a finger on his chin, taking his full, bottom lip in between your teeth as you teased it. at this, he squeezed the plush of your hips, slowly tracing a path up the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

slipping past the elastic, he slowly began exploring underneath your panties with two fingers. you shuddered as he reached your bundle of nerves, rubbing small circles onto it as you subtly moaned into his parted lips.

he hummed as he got to your core, tracing around your slippery arousal. "do you want me to start with one finger or two, my love?" he softly inquired, looking up at you through scrunched pieces of his bangs.

"i want all of you," you replied, wrapping your arms around his back to pull him even closer.

his gaze narrowed, a small smirk on his lips as he suddenly wrapped his arms below your hips. he picked you up swiftly; switching your positions and gently laid you down onto the bed. the sheets cooled your damp skin as he climbed on top of you, hooking his arms under your shoulders.

you could practically feel the fire inside him radiating through his skin, hot with passion and need. the fires inside of you just begged to be set aflame, joined together to create an even greater one. tonight your love was just that, the flames growing the more fuel was added to it; bodies pressed together tightly as you devoured one another's lips.

continuing his prior endeavor, he began trailing butterfly kisses down your neck, heat radiating from your body as he sucked several marks of his to decorate your pretty chest. his fingers against your skin felt as soft as the flower petals on the bed, inviting chills your body's surface with each trail he left.

"i forgot something," he slowly kissed you once more before getting up from the bed, his body heat escaping yours and quickly becoming replaced by the cold air conditioner. your eyes glued to him, you watched him excitedly run in his boxers over to the hotel door, unlocking it and slowly opening it.

"beomgyu what are you doing?" you sat up quickly in surprise, pulling the nearest pillow to cover your bare chest.

"i'm just placing the do-not-disturb sign on the door," he mischievously giggled, quickly shutting and locking the door once he was done. you threw the pillow at him as he tiptoed back to the bed, playfully rolling your eyes through a sigh of relief.

"you scared me, im half naked here!" you jokingly scolded him, followed by a choked laugh as he jumped back onto the bed, tackling you like his life depended on it. he drowned your neck in kisses again, laughing and squirming as he hugged you tightly, his hair tickling your skin.

mouths reuniting, you smiled against his soft lips, feeling his grin against yours. you couldn't help but feel both anxious and excited for the moments to come.

the mere thought of making love to your boyfriend always made you blush and kick your feet like it was the first. beomgyu just knew how to take care of you; emotionally, physically, mentally, sexually, all at once. he knew all the right spots, all the right things to say. he simply made your heart melt. in every way.

he always wanted to cherish your body and make sure you felt good; to him it was what you deserved and no less. and you two had grown a lot since you first began dating- not even able to take yourselves seriously at first due to insecurities and fear of judgment. but beomgyu always made you feel loved; he showed love to even your least favorite parts of yourself. he watered the seeds in your heart; helping you blossom and grow.

"you are heaven," his hot breath seeped into your ear, chills making themselves known on your skin. your stomach twisted as he kissed a trail down your neck, in between your breasts, and down to the most sensitive skin of your lower stomach; never once tearing his gaze from yours.

one thing about beomgyu was that he loved eye contact, especially during intimate moments. he loved the tension that built the longer you locked eyes, watching every little expression of yours, entranced by every shimmer in your eye.

he nipped at the lacy hem of your underwear, stopping before pulling them off; softly rubbing the wet patch of the fabric with his thumb.

"already so wet for me baby?" he cooed in the deepest of voices, looking up at you with his head innocently cocked to the side. you hummed in response, he knew what he was doing; god, how he turned you on. he teased you by skimming his lips over the dark spot before pulling them off as slowly as possible.

he watched like a starving man getting a full-course dinner feast revealed before him, observing the way strands of your wetness stretched as they clung to the fabric.

he looked up at you through dark strands of hair, wrapping his arms around your thighs to pull you even closer to him. he spread your legs open as he propped them onto each of his shoulders, getting a perfect view of your entirety. the chills on your skin intensified as you sensed his warm breath against your wetness, pulsating in need for his touch.

"you're my favorite snack," he sexily giggled against your thigh, pressing wet kisses all along the plush skin. he knew you loved it when he spoke in his satoori accent, especially during moments like these. he whispered dirty things into your skin, telling you every little thing he wanted to do to you. your breathing hitched, absolutely fawning over it all; his sensual voice had your heart doing flips, body aching for every bit of him.

he slowly lowered his mouth to your most sensitive area, your breath instantly shuddered at how amazing he felt. his chocolate hair tickled your inner thighs, adding to the pleasure. he loved the way his name left your lips with every flick of his tongue, eating you out deliciously; licking and sucking all the right places. it simply couldn't get any better.

you slightly propped yourself up on your elbows to get a better look, only to find his eyes already on yours, glued to yours in pure seduction. you took in the beautiful sight that was his pretty face in between your legs, tongue flicking at what felt like a hundred miles an hour; your body beginning to twitch at how amazing it felt.

you quietly chuckled to yourself, realizing just how fast he could move his tongue. "hmm?" he hummed against your skin at the sound of your giggle, looking up at you quizzically; his lips glossy from your wetness. he wiped them clean, breathing heavily as sweat beads began to form on his skin.

"you know sometimes i think your mouth really is made of a motor," you giggled, looking down at him. he thew his head back, a deep laugh exiting.

"yeah? like this?" he lowered his mouth back down, lightly circling over your clit with his tongue before speeding up the pace again, leaving you speechless. your smile faded as he ate you out so lewdly, staring at you so intensely; nothing seemed funny anymore.

his boxers tented due to how painfully hard he was at the sight of you; your scent, your taste, the sounds you made, the way your pretty eyes gazed upon him. everything about you had him intoxicated with lust, drunk in love.

he licked two of his fingers, slowly sinking them into you while curling upwards just the way you needed it. this combination electrified your body with every stroke of his fingers and swirl of his tongue until your lower stomach began to tighten in pleasure, only intensifying with his pace.

"right there gyu, don't stop," you mumbled as coherently as you could, throwing your head back aggressively, overcome with pleasure. eyes sewn shut, the ticklish knot in your stomach tightened as he perfectly rubbed the spot inside you, flicking his tongue just right every single time. you began to grind against his fingers, arching your back as you climbed up the mountain of pleasure, sensing your climax approach at any time now.

he kept his pace when he felt you tighten around his fingers, watching in awe as your once tensed muscles released, your body spasming as pleasure rolled through you in waves. your chest rose and fell intensely as you caught your breath, legs collapsing to one side as you lay in complete stillness, only your forearms keeping you up as your head was completely thrown behind you.

he attended to you, quickly getting up to help lay you back onto the bed, supporting the back of your head as he gingerly lowered it to the cold sheets.

he lay propped onto his elbow as you recovered from your climax, nuzzling into him as you felt his weight next to you. he watched your face, observing the way your eyes were gently fluttered closed, a small smile on your lips; completely overtaken by the warm fuzz of pleasure. he was simply glad; that's all he wanted, was to make you feel good. he smiled.

floating in the clouds, weightless; your body like jello with how relaxed you felt. you lay there, lost in thought about what had just happened as your breathing slowly returned to normal. you thought about how good he is; just how amazing he is.

you thought about his face; full lips when they kiss you or draw up into a pretty smile. his dark eyes when candlelight flickers in them, like speckled marbles. the sound of his deep voice against your skin. you wanted him. you needed him. so bad.

heat pulsated between your legs at the thought of him inside you and his member was no secret as it nudged your thigh, wet spots on the plaid material of his boxers. without speaking, your bodies said it all.

you looked over at him as he was in the middle of gently tracing your collarbones with his fingertips. your heart ached for him; he was just so patient with you. in this moment, all you wanted was to satistfy him just as much as he did you, make him feel just as good.

without a word you gently grabbed his face and crashed your lips to his again, hungry; this time with all the more passion. he melted right in, the need for you prevalent in his mannerisms. he crawled over you, situating himself on top; a knee in between your crotch as you ground against it for some relief.

you helped his boxers off of him, throwing them far across the room like you did with every last article of clothing. with nothing between you now, his skin melted against yours like warm sand, running his fingers up your sides and into your hair as you lay beneath him. 

his scent wafted into your nose with every of his movements, like warm cinnamon tea on a foggy morning; melting your brain with every inhale. you felt so warm and safe here, like you were in heaven. absolutely no worries or outside thoughts in mind, just beomgyu and this moment. this perfect moment.

he kissed and kissed you before gently grabbing both of your wrists, pinning them to either side of your head. the feeling of your arms exposed to the chilly air and out of your control had your stomach twisting and turning with desire, your skin burning for him.

"is this okay?" he softly asked against your lips, eyes starry and wide, filled with trillions of galaxies. it was almost funny how innocent he looked, yet how mischievous he was on the daily and how dirty he could be in bed. you loved it.

"more than okay," you whispered back, a certain intensity in your eyes left him mesmerized for a few moments, just wanting to stare for eternity. he smirked, burying his face into your neck so that his hair tickled your skin before kissing his way down to one of your breasts.

it was like he was tickling you and pleasuring you at the same time; you didn't know whether to moan or to laugh. a mixture of both came out, arching your back under his feathery touch. the deep bass of a song from your playlist seeped from his speaker; making the air thicker, hotter. he always made music sound better. he always made everything better.

wrapping your legs around his lower back to pull him closer, you began grinding yourself against the hardness that lay flush against his stomach. he teased you, beginning to thrust himself up against your wet folds, breathy moans escaping both of your mouths at how much you needed one another.

"beom- please," you whimpered against his lips, desperation prevalent in your eyes. he decided he had teased you enough, that he couldn't go any longer without being one with you.

nudging your legs further apart with his knees, he aligned himself with your entrance as he slowly entered you with his tip, nearly driving you crazy. he leaned down to kiss you, deepening the kiss as he deepened himself at an excruciatingly slow pace, eventually bottoming out inside of you with a subtle twitch.

"my god beomgyu," you sucked air through your teeth at his size, which you never quite got used to no matter how many times you had made love. the way he perfectly stretched you out simply left you speechless, needing every bit of him.

he always went slow so as not to hurt you, able to gauge when you were comfortable enough to go a little faster. his grip on your wrists slightly tightened as you fluttered around him, making it extra hard for him to control his pace. his breathing shuddered and he moaned into your lips, burying his head into your neck as he cursed at the sheer pleasure.

"fuck- you feel amazing" he groaned against your neck, slowly grinding his hips against yours, feeling every crevice inside you throb and flutter around him. you were the best feeling in the world.

both of your soft moans mixed with the patter of rain on the large glass windows of the hotel. only soft candlelight, fairy lights, and the city glow illuminated the room; casting your moving shadows onto the wall, along with the moonlight that peaked in through the curtains.

his dainty silver necklace tickled your neck as it dangled onto you, fingers intertwined tightly with his and still pinned over your head as you passionately made out. he thrust into you so sweetly, so perfectly you felt you could cry.

"you feel amazing too, gyu," was all you could say before your voice hitched and your eyes began to well. you don't know why you got so emotional all of a sudden; something about experiencing the utmost form of connection with the person you loved most had warm tears of happiness streaming down your cheeks.

his eyes were quick to fill with worry, searching quickly from eye to eye as he completely stopped thrusting into you.

"angel are you okay? what's wrong? did i do something?" his voice came out small and filled with worry, his fingers released yours and came up to wipe away the wetness on your face.

"yes gyu i'm okay," you laughed as the tears rolled out. "i just- i love you," you sniffled with a smile. he sighed of relief that you were okay, letting his forehead fall to yours. he softly chuckled after a moment, kissing the tip of your nose.

"i love you. more than you know," he whispered to you, staring into the depths of your eyes; to which you noticed were more shimmery than usual in the candlelight. he was tearing up too. your heart ached to see him cry, but crying during sex wasn't a complete rarity for the two of you. you felt better knowing they were happy tears rather than sad ones.

"is it okay if i continue?," he asked, his glossy eyes glittering in the candlelight as his lips curved into a small smile, a droplet hanging from the tip of his nose.

"please," you pleaded, wiping your face with the inner part of your arm. he began slowly moving in and out of you again, never once taking your eyes off of his. some of his tears dripped onto your face, making the both of you laugh. "oops," he smiled as he wiped them off with his thumb.

he got a frivolous idea: using his tongue to wipe your tears. you scoffed at him, scrunching your face at the feeling of his warm tongue tickling your cheek.

"mmm salty," he giggled, rays coming from that toothy grin of his that you so loved. you felt lost in the abyss of his eyes, just the two of you floating away in the space held in your hearts. a space that held only him and a space that held only you.

you noticed his smile slightly fade as his eyes searched yours, fingers finding their way to your hair.

"i remember the very first time i saw you. you're the most beautiful person i've ever seen. inside and out. and you always will be." another of his tears dripped onto your nose and slid down the crevices of your skin. he just stared at you, alternating from eye to eye, like he hadn't ever seen anything quite as fascinating as you.

"beomgyu you're gonna make me ugly cry," you chortled, eyes blurring and then spilling over. you reached up and gave him the tightest hug you could, feeling him bottom out inside of you and stay there, hugging you back even tighter.

these were the moments you realized you needed absolutely nothing else in life. just him. just him and you were the happiest girl on the entire planet. he's the center of your universe; there's nothing better on this planet than the love you share.

"i'm so glad i met you," your voice came out muffled in his warm shoulder, which you used to wipe off your wet nose. his back heaved as he exhaled, relaxing into the hug; pressing kisses to your jaw, then to your lips. both of your eyes and noses red and stuffy now, and you smiled in pure happiness as your teeth began to clash with one another's. "me too."

his tongue made its way to yours, kissing you so sweetly with little nibbles to your lip in between. he began to pick up his pace, deliciously grinding his hips against yours as he softly groaned against your lips.

the intensity of pleasure was a lot more amplified now; you don't know if it was because you had grown even more emotionally connected or if you were getting close to finishing again. but oh my, did he feel amazing.

you couldn't seem to quiet your whimpers as he thrust into you so deeply and steadily, wet sounds coming from in between your bodies. his hair clung to his forehead due to the condensation when you went to grab a handful of it, sweat dripping down his face and onto his neck. he hooked one of your legs with his arm, deepening his strokes inside of you.

"so fucking good," he panted against your lips as he pounded into you at a faster pace now, the bed beginning to creak with each of his thrusts. each time your name spewed from his lips, you felt your heart do a flip, absolutely weak at the way it rolled off of his tongue perfectly.

knowing that you made him feel so good only intensified your pleasure, feeling him throb and twitch inside you nearly had you at the edge again.

no matter how many different positions the two of you have tried over time, nothing could beat this one; your leg supported by his arm and bent over his shoulder as he rolled his hips against yours, hitting your g-spot just right with every thrust.

not only did it feel amazing, it granted you the ability to see every glimmer in his eyes and kiss him, feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, his weight pressed to you. you connected best, not only physically but emotionally.

you watched his face as he watched yours; his eyebrows knitted in pleasure, mouth agape and lips plump and red with how much you had kissed them. sweat beads dripped down his face and neck.

you simply couldn't put together the words that described beomgyu. you realized that the word beautiful was made to describe someone far simpler than him.

tasting the beads of salt pouring down his skin, you caught some that ran down to his lips as you sweetly kissed. his moans and grunts grew louder and more frequent, a telltale sign that we was right there, right at the edge. he dropped his forehead to yours, cold sweat sliding onto your skin from his, staring practically into your soul.

with one final deep thrust, he tightly shut his eyes and went completely over the edge, releasing his warmth inside of you. the sound of your name coherent through breathy moans and whimpers, sending chills up your spine.

although you hadn't yet finished, he sensed you were extremely close as he felt you tighten and flutter around him, slightly overstimulating himself with a few more thrusts to help push you over the edge as well.

your hips bucked and rolled against his as you came, his name escaping your lips lewdly as waves of pleasure carried you to cloud 9 once again, arching your back at the sheer pleasure.

he collapsed on top of you, both a huffing, sweaty mess; still twitching inside of you. euphoria coursed through your veins at the feeling of his body weight on you; both floating amongst the clouds, basking in the afterglow of pleasure as you recovered from your climaxes.

he buried his hands under your back, squeezing you into a tight hug. you stayed like this, feeling his heart strum through his chest and onto yours, sensing it slow with his breathing as he calmed down.

after a moment he brought his lips to yours in a soft kiss, tasting the saltiness of dried sweat and tears on his lips, not caring that you were both a total mess, hair completely plastered to wet foreheads. he gazed at you through smiling eyes, quietly giggling in joy, dawning over the amazing loved you shared. he propped his head in his elbow to gaze at you.

you just lay there for who knows how long, simply admiring one another, faces illuminated by candles reflecting from white bedsheets. lost in the flicker of the flame in his eyes, the warmth of his skin sept into yours as you traced the outline of his back. having memorized the map of each freckle and scar; taking in the utter beauty that was his existence.

you wondered how you lived before knowing him. because with him, colors shine brighter, music sounds better, life is happier. it is a life worth living a thousand times.

~

fog seeped from under the door of the rose-scattered, candlelit bathroom. scribbles of initials and small doodles of hearts and stars decorated the fog-stained glass doors of the shower.

it was an all glass, walk-in with water that fell like rain from a large square on the ceiling; by far the most luxurious shower you had ever used. man, had your boyfriend scored a great hotel for you both.

the two of you stood amidst the warm water, his back pressed to your chest as you shampooed his hair, taking note of how long it was getting as the silky strands fell through your fingers with the weight of soapy water.

he turned around to face you, a beard of bubbles on his chin. "what do you think?" earned a laugh from you, your giggles echoing throughout the spacious bathroom as you both goofed around like usual.

showering with beomgyu was as normal as breathing; you can't even remember the last time you showered alone.

your shower routine was different every time as it usually followed the flow of your emotions: sometimes it was more quiet, just observing one another through the clouds of steam, lost in gentle conversation about whatever it may be.

sometimes the room echoed with delirious noises as you doubled over with how hard you laughed, having to use the wall to keep you standing.

and sometimes your lips wouldn't come apart so much as to catch your breath as he lifted you up against the wall, your legs wrapped around his hips as your bodies did the talking.

but tonight, you were brimming with happiness as your playlist echoed from his speaker, mouthing the lyrics to him like you were the lead singer. he sang along with you, taking your hands in his and swinging them back and forth with the beat.

he watched you, completely enamored by the way your smiling face was illuminated by dim lighting, cheeks flushed with steam, the way your laugh echoed through the room. showering with you had always been one of his favorite parts of the day, it felt like your own little world where no other thoughts or people could enter. just you.

like always, you took turns washing one another. he rubbed soap onto your body with his hands, the feeling of your wet, bare skin entrancing him; using the excuse that he needed more soap as he poured a large amount into his hands, gliding them up and down your torso. you did the same, massaging his shoulders with the slick help of body wash, both addicted to the sensation of his skin and trying to loosen the ginormous knots he somehow carried in his muscles.

the clean scents of different soaps intermingled in the air to create one of your favorite scents in the world; the scent of washing off yet another day's adventure with your favorite person, freshening up just to start the day with him tomorrow to do it all over again.

you found yourself staring at him in absolute awe as he angled his head back under the shower head, time moving in what felt like slow motion as water drizzled down his bare skin; you could simply stare at him forever. he rubbed the water from his eyes, forehead exposed as his hair had been slicked back by the heavy stream. he stepped towards you, running fingers through it as some pieces fell messily on his forehead. it almost felt surreal that he was yours.

"i have some facemasks for us," he reached to turn the water off once you were all done rinsing off, grabbing you a towel from outside the glass door. your eyes lit up in excitement at the sound of these six words, the largest smile growing on your face. he wrapped the fresh linen around you like a burrito, giving you a big hug. the warmth he exuded transcended anything you had ever felt; like an eternal ray of sunshine right by your side. always.

~

after drying off, it was like the two of you were nineteen all over again. sitting on the bathroom counter wearing his oversized shirt and boxers, a laughing mess as he stood in front of you applying a face mask to your skin. his eyes met yours every few seconds, constantly drawn like two magnets; you could hardly keep a straight face with how close he leaned into you.

you closed your eyes in relaxation at the sensation of the mask's cooling texture, quickly interrupted as he tickled your nose with his pinky. you both doubled over in hushed laughter, trying your hardest to keep it quiet so not to disturb the neighbors as it was approaching 2 am. of course, your rowdy boyfriend wouldn't help with that.

your mind drifted to the last time you sat at this hotel's bathroom sink. it was when beomgyu had you bent over it a few nights ago before showering together; the room steamy as he gave it to you from behind, watching his face contort with pleasure in the reflection of the mirror, lip between his teeth.

the memory vividly came back to you, still fresh in your mind: he leaned in close so that his warm chest was pressed to your back. "you like watching me fuck you, huh pretty?" he breathed into your ear, eyes glued to yours through the foggy bathroom mirror. you simply melted at his dirty talk; he was just too good. all you could do was nod in response, whimpers for more filling the room with an echo. he looked at you a little longer in the mirror with before subtly smiling, pressing kisses down your back, slowing his thrusts into a more gentle, steady pace.

he had noticed you drift off into your daydream, waving a hand in front of your face to awaken you from the steamy memory. heat found its way to your face, looking at him with hazy eyes.

"i was just remembering the last time we...you know," you nudged him, a shy smile on your lips. which come to think of it, the two of you had made love almost every night since you had been on your trip.

you would come back to the hotel after a fun day and already be glued to one another as you entered the room; stumbling to the bed, his fingers intertwined in your hair and yours on his belt buckle. you simply couldn't get enough of each other.

"look at these photos i found from freshman year" drew you from your thoughts completely, paying mind to his phone screen as he scrolled far into his camera roll album of you, stopping on one that had you smiling from ear to ear.

it was a mirror picture the two of you had taken one of the nights you stayed up late, doing face masks in your dorm room; the night you gave him his adorable nickname. he made a silly face at you as you were in the middle of laughter, your arms around his waist.

you cooed at how adorable he looked with his blonde head of hair and soft, round facial features; you just wanted to pinch his cheek. he took note of how much you have changed since then too, and how you would always wear his green checkered, bear patterned cardigan like it was your own. you were still the same, beautiful person in his eyes; only now you had an obsession with his black and white plaid cardigan instead.

"let's recreate it," you looked up at him, who nodded excitedly in agreement. although it seemed like a small little memory, it still held both of your hearts like it was yesterday; a very special relationship was born from those delirious nights and you couldn't be more grateful for them.

he helped you off the counter as you got into the same position you stood in three years ago, hugging his waist he slung an arm around you, pulling you just as close as he wanted to that night; his nerves no longer in the way like how they once were.

you stared at one another in the mirror, cheeks burning with how much you smiled. just as he clicked the shutter, he made the same silly face, naturally coaxing a laugh from you, just like that night.

~

the rest of tonight was filled with memories that cradled your heart like a warm blanket; ones that made you fall so deeply in love, you could feel the warm glow of your heart radiating from deep within your chest.

and just like always in the dead of night, the two of you were in the most spontaneous, absolutely delirious mood. having a hotel room together only fueled this. you felt like you were in your own little movie; like you ran away to a new city and got new identities, finally free to do whatever you wanted without a care in the world.

a 3am vending machine run downstairs for ice cream and pocky left you out of breath, tip-toe racing one another down the hall; where trying your best to keep quiet was only part of the fun.

beomgyu brought his baby blue polaroid along with him, wanting to capture every memory he could. he took all kinds of candid photos of you; a few by the colorful vending machines, scratching your head as you struggled to pick an option. a hilarious one of your hoodie stuffed to the brim with all kinds of snacks that some might fall out; to which he took some blurry ones of you sprinting down the hall to pick up the ones that did fall out.

there were some selfies of the both of you once you had returned to the hotel room, capturing a stick of pocky in between the two of you as you raced to be the first to meet the other's lips. the polaroid camera was put down when he won, the taste of strawberry on his lips as he softly bit down on your bottom lip.

he took almost fifteen polaroids, you counted, as they lay spread out on the bedside table as some were still in the process of developing. you were excited to see how they would turn out, and add them to your polaroid album together.

he suddenly tackled you from behind, pulling you onto him and inviting you to a wrestling match on the bed, entangling your bodies in every way imaginable just to pin the other person down.

at 4am you lay silently under the rose-covered sheets and flickering fairy lights, entranced with the storm; pouring rain pelting against the large glass window. the way it was pushed and pulled violently by the wind outside made you feel even more cozy, laying on beomgyu's chest as he fiddled with your earring.

when the rest of the world sleeps, you both lie awake between the sheets and beneath the stars and that's how you spent every night together. your leg slung around his tummy as you both observed the blurry city, the subtle blue glow illuminating your faces.

you had always been infatuated with the red glow of the tokyo tower against the silver skyline, and now getting to see it in person made you want to lose sleep just to watch it glow. you took note as to how many small blinking lights flashed randomly on each building, matching with the lights of small cars in the distance.

after such a long day, you couldn't help but grow blanketed with sleep every passing second, fighting the urge of your eyes practically begging to close, just to watch the skyline a bit more, just to stay in this moment with him for as long as you could. that was when suddenly, you felt beomgyu's chest vibrate as he hummed a tune.

"you're the sun to the moon" he softly began to sing, immediately forgetting your sleepiness. every time he sang, it was like a gift to you

"you're my ocean painted blue," you faintly smiled, recognizing the song by lany as it was one of your favorites.

"you, i'm nothing without you." he concluded with a kiss to your head, followed by a large yawn. turning to look up at him, his eyes were gently shut, long eyelashes resting atop his cheekbones, just how he usually looked when he had fallen asleep.

with that voice he could be a famous singer. with that face, he could be a model. with that heart of gold, he could be a thousand more things. but it's not what he could be, it's what he is. in your eyes and in your heart, he is that famous singer. he is that model, he is yours.

you left a gentle kiss on his adams apple, finding your comfy spot on his chest again before replaying his honey voice in your mind again, drifting off into a gentle slumber. you hoped you would dream of him, like you did every night.

. . .

the scent of morning coffee reminded you of sophomore year of college, when you became the well-known couple at your university's coffee shop; as it wasn't a rare occasion that you pushed yourselves out of bed, groggily shuffling over to grab some coffee together before class.

you would ruffle his once blonde hair in line as you waited, heavy head on your shoulder as he yawned, the scent of coffee filling your nose. he would sip his iced americano sleepy eyed and you, a cup of sweet iced goodness as you walked to class, fingers interlaced.

you had only slept two hours, apparently, as the sun was now rising right before your eyes outside the large glass pane windows. you thought maybe you were just dreaming because of how unreal the sight was before you; a large, red orb peeking its bright eye over the city of tokyo.

"angel? oh good you're up," beomgyu pranced over to you with a cup of iced coffee, just the way you liked it. you barely pushed yourself up, head still extremely heavy with sleep. you would probably be annoyed if anyone else had woken you up this early, but because it was your boyfriend, you gladly fought the urge to fall back asleep.

"i thought we'd watch the sunrise," he plopped down on the bed, sitting criss-cross next to you with his own coffee in hand.

you happily nodded with half-closed eyes, not yet able to get out a coherent sentence as you were still practically asleep. you slowly sipped the cold goodness of your cup, feeling a bit more awake by the minute.

the sound of "train station in 10?" awoke you immediately, more than coffee ever could in that time span. he looked over at you expectantly, your eyes wide as you sat a disheveled mess in bed, wondering how the hell you would look decent in 10 minutes.

"make it 20, i know just the perfect place to take you," he kissed your cheek, jumping up from bed and running into the bathroom where he began playing music and getting ready for your next adventure.

the memory of getting dressed was just a blur of baggy jeans and white converse as you now stood on a moving train, head resting lazily on your boyfriend's all too familiar shoulder. eyes constantly glued to the hazy blend of warm colors ahead as the sun rose little by little. all you could do was wonder where this train was taking you, since beomgyu wouldn't tell you. not even one hint.

your only clue was that this time, the train traveled towards the city instead of away from it, reminding you of the last time when you went to the suburbs for the cherry blossom picnic.

"did you match with me on purpose?" his voice brought you from your thoughts as you looked him up and down curiously, snorting when you realized your outfits were pretty much identical to a tee.

he wore a loose, white button-up; rolled at the elbows and lazily stuffed into some light-wash baggy jeans, and a pair of white converse. this morning had been such a blur that you didn't even notice what you had thrown together, or what he had either, for that matter.

"now i am convinced we actually share brain cells," you collapsed your head back onto his shoulder as both laughed. but he thought it was the cutest thing ever; that he would be walking around with his mini-me all day through the streets of tokyo. he always felt proud to walk with you, no matter what.

~

breathtaken, you stood at what felt like the top of the world as you witnessed the entire city from this altitude, mount fuji clearly visible through some clouds miles away. the sun made it's glowing appearance between slivers of buildings, which from this high up, merely resembled scattered grey blocks beneath you.

beomgyu had brought you to tokyo skytree; the tallest building in japan, and the place at the top of your bucket list since you could remember. you pressed your forehead against the glass, admiring the way the city was still blanketed in subtle mist from last night's storm, orange rays of muted sunlight peaking through clouds that rested their fluffy heads on buildings.

it seemed most of the city was still asleep, as the only small crowds of people were those headed off to work. the hour of dawn wasn't one you were usually awake to see considering you were certainly a night owl. but right now, it felt otherworldly; somber, filled with pure peace and quiet as the sun bled into the sky. like time was frozen.

beomgyu stood next to you, hands pressed to the glass on either side of his face, looking down at his feet, past the glass underneath them; lost as he stood at what felt was the edge of the world. you walked your fingers along the glass and over to his, gently resting your hand on top of his.

no matter how beautiful the view was in front of you, your eyes always found their way back to each other's; cheeks squished to the glass as you admired one another. the most beautiful sight wasn't the sunrise or the buildings or the city you were in; it was him and you. together.

there was more in store for you than you thought, as you now perused the skytree aquarium hand in hand, fully awake now as colorful fish swam all around you.

the large fish tanks stretched from floor to ceiling, carrying some of the most exotic sea life you had ever witnessed; some cute and some scary, some big and some small. a tiny fish called your attention as it reminded you of him, the way its large eyes gazed at you innocently. he laughed, comparing you to the clownfish in the next tank.

the brightest turquoise glow lit the entire place, almost convincing you that you would never see another color again but blue. but of course, he looked just as handsome blanketed under the turquoise light that you would easily get used to it; eyes glimmering with the magic of curiosity and wonder, swiveling his head all around in awe at the fish that swam everywhere imaginable.

you parted ways between a large tank at the center, finding each other again through the opposite sides of the glass. he placed his hand on the tank, inviting yours to mirror his. although you were thousands of miles from home in a foreign city where you knew absolutely no one. the glowing face on the other side of the glass, that was all you needed to feel right at home.

he motioned you over to a tank that caught his eye, reuniting with the interlacing of your fingers. "actually you remind me of a jellyfish," he pointed at the glowing creatures that floated in the water, gliding gently with one another. you pondered the idea, maybe he had good reason.

"they're graceful and elegant, just look at this one," he pointed at one that was a slightly different shade of violet than the others, a look of determination on his face as he described all of its attributes and how they reminded him of you.

"i think jellyfish are the most beautiful, that's why it reminds me of you." you looked up at him with a warm smile, his eyes still fixated on the glowing tank, then down to meet yours with an affirming nod.

"and also the clownfish because you're a clow- ouch!" you playfully slapped his arm as he rubbed it exaggeratedly, letting out a goofy laugh at his own joke. you rolled your eyes, not able to stay serious "if anyone resembles a clownfish here it's you!" you scoffed at him jokingly, laughing at his side eye.

he reclined on one of the tanks with his shoulder, observing the tank of clownfish and jellyfish. "i think if you were a jellyfish and i was a clownfish in this aquarium, i would swim up to the jellyfish tank every day just to watch the slightly violet one. i think in any universe, i would fall in love with you," he rested his head on the glass, looking down at you fondly.

you squeezed his hand gently in yours, loving every part of his imagination. he often liked to make up little (usually cheesy) stories about you and him in other universes and you loved every single one; today was the story of the clownfish and the jellyfish. what he didn't know was that you wrote them down in a secret journal, to hopefully retell them to him one day. the mere thought warmed your heart.

just as you were standing on your tip toes to press a kiss to his cheek, you noticed a familiar group of teenagers over his shoulder. it was someone familiar that caught your eye: a tall, serious looking black-haired boy with a middle part. he stood with two other girls and two other guys. it's them.

"oh my god beomgyu don't turn around," you stood in shock at the sight of the group, gaining memory of the poor boy's horrified face when you gave them the shrimp and ran away that one night at 3 am in shibuya.

"i think it's the same group we gave the shrimp to," you whispered into his ear with a cupped hand, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"the riki guy we jump-scared and then ran away?" beomgyu looked at you in half disbelief, cupping his mouth in hushed laughter. "yes him!" you whisper yelled in all seriousness, tugging at his arm in fear they would see you at any moment.

he carefully walked ahead of you, holding your hand tightly as he brought you behind one of the tall flounder tanks. putting his hands on your shoulders, he looked seriously into your eyes to devise a plan. "okay, we're going to make a run for it." to which you furrowed your eyebrows in concern.

"what?! beomgyu we can't just keep running away from them. they don't even know we're here." no response. pressing his back to the tank, he peaked his head around the glass like he was detective sherlock holmes on a top secret mission. once the coast was clear, he eyed you. "three...two," he began to count down and you readied yourself for the inevitable.

"wait!" he halted you with an arm, his whisper yell almost a little too loud. just before he could reach one, you both saw the shadow of the group's silhouettes project through the blue light of the tank. your first instinct was to duck, so you pulled him down with you.

the group now stood right around the corner from you, your heart racing at the thought of an awkward encounter. who knows how the riki guy would react at the sight of you two after what you did to him.

"let's just stealth it out," you whispered to him, checking behind the other side of the tank to find the coast was clear. "now!" you pulled beomgyu's arm but he wouldn't budge.

"how?" he asked. to which you began replying "we just tip toe quietly and not make a big dea-" but he cut you off.

"how you look so cute even when you're all serious?" he looked at you expectantly and you couldn't help but grin. even in the midst of the most serious of situations, he still made you loosen up and laugh, reminding you that nothing bad would happen when you were by his side.

you took a deep breath, realizing the situation wasn't as serious as you pictured it. so you stood up, bringing him up with you, and turned the corner; simply walking away like a normal couple, unseen by the group. you sighed in relief.

"hey!" a familiar voice of the boy called from behind you, your breath instantly catching in your throat. it could not be...

"oh. shit." you and beomgyu both looked at one another wide-eyed, both thinking the exact same thing RUN!

you completely booked it, running like your lives were on the line, butterflies fluttering through your stomach at the sheer thrill. he squeezed your hand so tight that it made your fingers white, and couldn't help but feel laughter bubble up in your chest at the whole situation.

"wait! the shrimp was good!" was all the raven-haired boy could say before the two of you disappeared around the corner, gone with a cloud of dust behind your heels.

but you didn't hear him with how focused you two were on getting out of there. people wondered what the hell was going on, probably just two unruly kids making a scene. and why are they wearing the exact same outfit? the whole thing was a comical disaster; definitely a memory you would look back and laugh at in the future.

a huffing mess, you finally stood outside the building, hands on your knees as you took a breather, "i can't believe we did that again," he laced his hand with yours as you continued walking further from the aquarium, just in case.

you shook your head, heart still pounding as you laughed it off. the damp wind felt refreshing as it blew on your face, taking it in as it tousled your hair in different directions.

"you know, you never answered my question," he looked over at you with a furrowed brow. "how?"

you remembered his prior question, not exactly knowing how to answer. you shook your head and looked down at your shoes with a soft smile.

he slung his arm around your neck and pulled you close as you walked down a docile street, your head falling to his shoulder.

"i know how. because you're the most perfect girl in the world," he kissed the side of you head as your hearts carried you wherever they desired to next.

. . .

cherry blossoms; the flower that symbolizes life and new beginnings, the beautiful, fleeting nature of existence. its pink haze decorated the ground on which you stood, locking eyes with the familiar, beautiful doe gaze you so loved.

his mouth fell open, absolutely speechless; feeling his heart strum against his chest at the sight of you walk along the path of flowers. you were so unbelievably beautiful to him, the way the setting sun bathed you in a golden glow as you walked; like an angel descended from heaven in his eyes. the air had escaped his lungs at the sight of you in your flowy dress, white as snow.

you felt your heart drum against your chest as you continued your gait to the arbour where he awaited; cherry blossom branches curved into a heart archway behind him. vigilant eyes observed as you carefully walked, but the only pair that ever mattered were his.

the pink and white flower glimmered from the dainty ring you watched the love of your life slide onto your left ring finger. a large grin decorating your lips as you faced one another, hand in hand. he stood there; jaw-droppingly handsome in an all-black suit, hair hugging the nape of his neck, grown out the longest it'd ever been.

the sun and the moon were both visible in the cloud-feathered sky, calling your attention just for a moment. the most beautiful day you had ever lived to see; everything about it radiated absolute heaven.

you may now kiss the bride were the six words that made you tear up more than you thought they would, your glittering eyes becoming visible under your veil as he lifted it up, revealing utmost beauty on both ends.

he held your jaw with gentle fingers, searching your eyes with his; tender-eyed, beautifully vulnerable. a gaze you thought was a portal to outer space, catching a glimpse of your future in an eternity of stars and galaxies. the countless kisses and embraces you would share for a life time.

a single blossom fluttered from the lush, swaying trees above and landed soft as a butterfly on his nose, drawing a sweet smile to your lips. a warm memory bloomed in your chest, remembering the soft petals between your finger as you picked it off of his nose several years ago at this exact spot.

you neared your faces in what felt like slow motion, slowly locking lips with the familiar plush comfort of home. he kissed you strong and deep, able to feel the bright energy radiating from him as he deepened his lips on yours. at the moment you closed your eyes, you heard the claps and cheers of the crowd.

an overwhelming rush of happiness welled in your eyes, heart pounding with the sparkle of elation, you just wanted to jump for joy. if you weren't in a public setting, you would probably break down crying because of how happy you were.

the two of you walked down the isle hand in hand, wearing the brightest smiles one could wear as cheers and kind eyes from familiar faces greeted you. four of beomgyu's college friends waved at you from their seats, snapping tons of pictures as if you were two celebrities walking the red carpet.

you caught the gaze of beomgyu's mom, her kind eyes as she happily nodded towards you, mouthing the words beautiful; to which you were beyond flattered and returned a rosy smile.

it was a small, outdoor venue, only joined by close friends and immediate family as the two of you decided to return to japan for your wedding. yoyogi park; the very same place you had your cherry blossom picnic several years ago when you vacationed here.

no matter how many years had passed since then, tokyo had always called your hearts back. the happiness and love you shared here was something so special, memories like no other place you had visited. it only felt right to return and live it once more. or perhaps, forevermore.

"never thought miss straight a's would end up marrying the class clown," one of beomgyu's college friends yeonjun came over once food and drinks were served at the reception, flashing you a warm smile before jokingly punching beomgyu on the shoulder.

"congratulations man," they shared a laugh and hugged, their conversation muted about the music as you observed beomgyu's gestures; he was beyond elated, eyes animated and sparkling as he spoke, face bright and shining with laughter with his head thrown back. your heart jolted; everything about his smile, his laugh, his everything. you couldn't help but fall in love all over again; watching him from a distance like he was a man you could only dream of being with, let alone marrying.

it really felt surreal; that you were able call your boyfriend your fiancé, and now your husband. it would take some getting used to, of course, since you couldn't help but get red in the face every time you even thought of him as your husband.

"congratulations mrs. choi," the black-haired man bowed to you after he had finished talking to beomgyu, and you returned the bow with a grateful smile, being sure to thank him for coming.

mrs. choi

you felt you could power a city with the pure jubilation that radiated in your heart at the sound of those words. this is going to take some getting used to.

~

fairy lights sparkled in the soft wind, a thin gust fluttering the polaroids pinned with tiny clothespins to the string lights that hung above the quaint, wooden dance floor.

it was your idea to hang some of your polaroids up at your wedding; strung from fairy lights on cherry trees around the venue. out of the hundreds you'd taken over the years, you selected your mutually favorite ones. he looked up at them, giggling every five seconds as a new one caught his eye. he loved it.

"look at that one!" he pointed up at the polaroids as he held you in your arms while slowly swaying to the music of the live band, others dancing around you.

he pointed to the polaroid you took of him standing in his plaid pajamas pants in line at your university's coffee shop, which was hung next to one of him standing at the vending machine at your old hotel, wearing the same pants. and next to that one a selfie of the two of you, the tokyo tower glowing red and white in the background. you could look at old pictures with him forever, just dawning over all the great memories.

"you're so thoughtful. i love this," he lowered his forehead to yours, his eyes wrinkling into a warm smile. "i love you," you responded, only widening his smile. his eyes lingered on yours a bit longer before darting over to the band and then to yours again, squeezing your hand.

"i have a present for you," he muttered after a few seconds of silence, the live band now silent. you noticed only a few notes of the guitar playing repeatedly, a new melody you have yet to hear in an existing song.

"this is a song called nap of a star, i wrote it for you," he smiled, gentle fingers coming up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. recalling his faint hum in the back of your mind from that rainy night. his promise.

and so he began.

I can see even if you're not by my side I feel you even if you don't say a word..

he sang just loud enough for only you to hear, the rest of the guests kindly observing your slow dance from afar, some teary-eyed.

the guitar melody sounded beautiful, one he crafted the late nights he stayed up in the little at-home studio he had built in your apartment together. nights you would often sit across from him, watching candlelight flicker from the reflection of his guitar as he lulled you with the depths of his voice.

I want to be your nap so I can dream with you no matter when.. As if nothing had happened..

beomgyu had gained more confidence with singing over the years, gaining enough to sing in a public space, even if no one could really hear him. all that mattered was that you did. you swayed with him as he held your waist, pressed flush against one another, his thumbs soft over the lace of your dress.

On a sunset evening, even in the night when the sky is dark.. My heart is full of you.

the full moon gleamed overhead as he sang to you, casting your swaying shadows across the wooden platform in pale light. you couldn't once tear your gaze from his eyes. both slighly teary-eyed as he sang everything he felt for you, putting it all into a song you never wanted to end. you just wanted to stay here forever.

all you yearned to see were the depths of his eyes where you found the promise of eternity. his lips where you found the promise of pure joy and lifelong kisses. his hands where you found never-ending warmth and comfort. that was all you wanted. all you needed, endlessly. you couldn't wait to spend the rest of your life with him.

~

you could hardly see beomgyu over the tall, paper lantern that flickered between the two of you. that was, until he peeked over its brim, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

"ready?" you asked him through a small giggle. only your nose and eyes visible over the lantern's bright glow. he tickled your fingers with the gentle brush of his.

"three...two..." you counted down, looking over at him in anticipation as you each held onto an end, watching the flame dance in his dark eyes.

at "one," you released the lantern together, watching it float weightlessly up into the night sky, carrying the promises and wishes you held in your hearts; ones of lifelong unity and happiness, which you knew were wishes that had already come true long ago.

other guests released their lanterns into the dark sky as well, watching them slowly accumulate in the sky like fireflies. beomgyu's four friends released theirs together as you heard their excited laughs echo behind you. you smiled, content that everyone was having a good time.

he held you, wrapping both of his arms around your waist as you watched your lantern become smaller and smaller in the speckled sky. looking up at the moon reminded him that this night would be completely dark without it. similar to how his life wouldn't be as bright without you in it. you and the moon; always there to brighten the darkness. 

your head fell to his shoulder, simply breathing with him. you thought about your future together; about what it would be like to maybe move here one day. maybe open up a coffee shop or a cute little library and after many years, grow to be the cutest elderly couple in town. always by his side.

you looked up at him from his warm shoulder, his eyes reflecting the sky, you almost couldn't tell the difference between the stars in the night sky and the stars in his eyes. 

no one sees his beauty quite like you do. the way his brown eyes catch the sun rays at sunset and turn gold at dusk, but also reflect the night sky like a mirror. his soft touch; the way his fingers gently graze upon your skin like a feather. the way his cheeks pull upward when there's an oncoming smile, revealing rays from his toothy grin. his thick, soft voice; the way it sings you to sleep or whispers that he loves you.

he looked down at you, the way your hair- like silk as it fell weightlessly over your ear, waiting to be tucked back into place by his fingers. like his fingers were made for you, made for that strand of hair. and they are. and the strand of your hair, falling perfectly, was made for him as well.

you were made for him. and he was made for you.

and so you watched the last bit of the lantern, like a speck now in the sky, disappear into oblivion. you both wondered where it went, deep in conversation about the possibilities. did it just disintegrate or will it survive beyond space? where there are billions of stars with dozens of planets. where there are a trillion comets, supernova explosions and new planets being formed. where there might be other life, but you're not sure. but there is one thing you both know for sure. 

there is nothing in the universe

like you.

the end:)

~

a/n: alas, it's here! if you are reading this, thank you so so much for being patient with me, and with this sequel. this past year has been a rollercoaster, but the whole time i had this fic in mind and always wanted to finish it <3 thank you for all the love on tokyo and i really hope you enjoyed this one! i love you all, please know you are amazing, worth it, and so loved :)

more fics coming soon!! <3

©beomie3

tags: @enhasengene @soobsfairy444 @xiaoting999 @londonchuu @rpkth @dainsleif-when-playable @tatanbin @croissant-san @younglingslayer69 @readingmochi @bangtanattic

[wordsarelife]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞

pairing: theo nott x fem!reader

summary: you’re not particularly happy about theo’s song, all while he doesn’t even admit it’s about you.

warnings: none i think, apart from cursing :)

notes: mention of twitter because i refuse to call it X (elon musk is a puppeteer and i’m not falling for his schemes)

this is also still a bit of introduction, getting their dynamic and getting to know the other characters (april!!) better.

previous part | masterlist | next part

you woke up to your phone, flooding over with messages. most of them were from your best friend, april.

you and her had met in first grade, stumbling into each other. she had been new to town, knowing no one. it only took a week for the two of you to become the best of friends. she knew best of your hatred for theo, how it all had went down, from being friends to not even looking in each others direction.

y/n?!?!!!

the first message read. you ignored the twenty following ones and scrolled down to find the latest one.

give me a call when you're up. you won't believe this

you sighed, internally sacrificing the idea of a calm morning and raising your phone, already calling her.

"hey" she said and you could hear the unsureness in her voice.

"is everything okay?" you asked confused. april was normally the opposite of calm.

“yeah” she muttered and then it all came out at once “theo wrote a song and i’m pretty sure he wrote it about you. get ready, i’ll be there in fifteen minutes, okay?”

“he did what?” you asked flabbergasted, while you put her on speaker and opened twitter, checking if there was any evidence. “what the fuck” you muttered once your eyes landed on cursed legacy’s latest post.

“did you see the post?” april asked alarmed “you did right?”

“yeah” you muttered while you scrolled past the reposts “i mean pixie dream girl? do i look like a pixie dream girl?”

april was silent and you closed your eyes exhausted.

“i’m sorry, y/n”

“not your fault” you walked into the bathroom, already putting toothpaste onto your toothbrush “well have some time if you’re gonna be here in just fifteen minutes”

“i thought we could drive to sammy’s and have breakfast”

“just what i needed to hear now” you breathed “i’ll see you in fifteen”

“yeah” you could practically hear her smile “wait! don’t listen to the song alone, okay?”

“yeah” you muttered “i promise”

“it’s not as bad as it thought it would be” april said as soon as you had sat down in her car.

“you’re only saying that to make me feel better, aren’t you?”

“no, i promise I’m not” she assured “you will think it’s bad the first time you hear it, but it’ll become more and more harmless”

“how many times have you listened, april?” aou asked through clenched teeth.

“only like fifteen, but i needed to analyze”

“sure” you rolled your eyes “you don’t have to lie to me, it’s alright if you like the song. my feud with theo has nothing to do with you”

“really?”

“really” you nodded. you loved april incredibly, she was the sweetest person on earth.

“i only like it so much because enzo sings the backing vocals” april had been in love with enzo since the third grade. even though you had told her about a million times that enzo was in love with her too, she never acted on her feelings. you weren’t sure if it was because she was scared or because of you and your hatred for theo. still, enzo was your favorite out of the band and april knew that. you would never have a problem with them dating, you just hoped she knew that too.

“and?” you raised your eyebrows, sensing that there was something else she wasn’t telling you.

“and it’s really catchy” april admitted.

“well, I never said that theo can’t write, i’m just not a fan of him as a person, but his band and their songs are alright. so are you going to let me hear the song or are you not finished briefing me yet?”

she smiled, before she pushed the play button. you noticed her fingers trembling and the unsureness as she send you as smile, before she parked at the side of the road.

“what are you doing?”

“saving our lifes” she shrugged.

before you could ask her anything else, theo’s voice was already flowing through the car. the song was a mix of pop and rock, it took a lot to not bop your head along. the melody was really addicting and you hated theo even more.

“maybe the song isn’t even about me”

april send you an uncomfortable expression. you could tell that she was sure it was “maybe”

she's an average girl, with tangled up hair,

her laughter's like nails on a chalkboard, it's more than i can bear.

she flutters around, like a clumsy old crow,

leaving chaos behind her, wherever she goes

she's a mess wrapped in chaos,

a thorn in my side, no matter the cost.

she'll stumble and fall, then blame it on me,

i'm tired of her games, can't you see?

“well, it definitely is about me” you nodded with a forced smile.

“yeah” april nudged your arm “but the chorus is kinda nice, i guess”

you send her a look and she smiled apologetically. as soon as the song had ended, you were more than glad that she had decided to park. you got out of the car and the first thing you did was scream at the top of your lungs.

“fucking idiot!” you screamed “what the fuck is wrong with him?” you turned to april who had been quick to climb out behind you.

april shrugged her shoulders. “i don’t know” she said “how could he?” the way she forged the anger made you almost laugh. she was trying to be angry, she really was, but april was really rarely angry, not even when you two would fight. she wasn’t making fun of you, she was trying to relate.

“i’m gonna climb up the stupid tree, smash his window and throw everything that he loves out and when i’m finished.. then, then i’ll burn his stupid song book! ha!”

“you should totally do that!!” april screamed back “or maybe we could take all this anger and put it into something useful?” she suggested

“like destroy his car?” you perked up.

“no” april smiled while she walked back to the drivers side and took out a blog and a pen. “you could write everything that your feeling down and after we had breakfast, we’ll burn it on the bridge on our way to school”

“i don’t know if that will cure the murderous rage i’m feeling right now”

“we could try?”

you nodded and couldn’t help but smile at the way she was always trying to fix you. sometimes you wondered if she stayed up late only to google therapeutic ways to handle anger or sadness. she had never ending ideas considering that topic.

while she drove you both to sammy's you spend your time writing down everything you were feeling. the absolute anger and general questions and critique you had considering some of the song lines. when had you ever blamed him for something that happened to you? you could only think of a few things and all of them had been absolutely rightful. what games was he talking about? the way you were not interested in upkeeping any sort of relationship and he made it his daily task to annoy you to the best of his ability?

who was really playing games?

you finished your writing right as april parked the car, resulting in one full and another half page and a single sentence scattered on a third one. you held the two pages in her direction and watched as she put them in her bag.

"we'll burn them after" she assured you "what about the third page?" she asked as she noticed the single piece of paper you were folding up.

"that is for me" you explained "i don't want to forget how i felt"

"okay" she smiled unsurely "as long as you didn't plan theo's murder on that, it's fine"

"no promises" you shrugged and april laughed as she followed you into the restaurant.

✦•〰〰〰〰〰★🎸☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★〰〰〰〰〰〰•✦

you ran into theo sooner than you had anticipated, almost making him topple over on the stairs of the school. april was right about to run into you, but could stop just a second before colliding. she turned her head to the side to look around you and theo, noticing enzo behind the other boy.

“hey enzo” she greeted smiling.

enzo smiled as he noticed her, a rosy blush creeping onto his cheeks. “april, hi” you could see that he was trying to say something else, but before he could do so, theo started talking.

“watch where you’re going”

you sighed “just who i needed”

theo smirked, already guessing that you knew about his bands new song. “what was that?”

“nothing” you shook your head “what is wrong with you, theodore?”

“woah, theodore huh?” he raised his hands, laughing as he saw how angry you were “that does not sound like nothing”

“don’t act stupid” you rolled your eyes “you know exactly what I’m talking about”

“do i now?” he quirked a brow.

“pixie dream girl, really?”

“our new song?” theo wondered “what about it?”

you would’ve loved to just give him a gentle hit so he would fall down the stair, but you were smarter than that, at least you hoped.

“it’s obviously about me”

“well, it doesn’t say your name”

“no” you dragged the word out “but we both know you called me pixie since we were kids. don’t act dumber than you are, theo”

“no need to get offensive” theo tried to nudge your arm, but you pulled it back before he could reach it. “so you accept that as your official nickname? because as far as i remember you always hated me calling you that”

“i still do”

“so then the song is not about you” theo shrugged.

“one line literally says ‘she turns behind the window glass’ and my window is the only one that happens to be right in front of yours” it was a bit shameful that you could recall the line from the top of your head and you had to admit that the song was kinda catchy.

“it’s about a fictional girl”

“sure” you nodded, smiling ironically “just like daddy issues is. do you really think I’m an idiot, theo?”

“do you really want me to answer that question?” theo shot back and your smile died down. the two of you knew that both songs had been written about you. theo was good at writing songs, but also at fighting with you, so it had been easy to recall the lines he had said to you after he had incorporated them in his song.

daddy issues had come out with nine other songs a few months ago. it had been the second single on cursed legacy's debut album. you hated to admit how much the track had hurt you, how theo was able to use something you had trusted him with, against you. he was one of the few who knew about your issues with you dad and he had always been able to calm you down after one of many fights. to hear the sentences he used to whisper to you, used in the chorus really felt like a knife in your back.

but you and theo weren't friends anymore and you had to accept that you would never be again. he wasn't going to go easy on you.

“stop writing songs about me” you said, finally having enough of the endless back and forth you were used to with him.

“stop making stuff up” theo answered with a smile, before he straigthened his backpack and turned around, walking down the rest of the way.

“we have geography” you reminded him.

he just shrugged, before he turned around. “you don’t mind bringing me your notes later, do you?”

“fuck you” you spat and the grin on his face frustrated you.

“is it alright if i accompany you two?” enzo’s voice made your head turn. you had completely forgotten that he had been there the entire time.

“sure” you nodded and he smiled gratefully.

✦•〰〰〰〰〰★🎸☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★〰〰〰〰〰〰•✦

it was only during english that theo and also mattheo, who suspiciously always disappeared when theo did, turned up again. without an invitation, theo sat down in the open seat beside you. april was sitting on your right side and next to her enzo, who had also followed right after your friend for the next class and was seemingly not about to leave her side. so this arrangement left place for theo and mattheo to sit down on your left side.

"hey, pixie" theo greeted, still spotting that annoying smirk of his. you would have loved to smack it right off his stupid face.

"i had hoped you wouldn't be coming back"

"and just leave you hanging like that?" theo raised his brows "i could never"

you could've guessed that he would show up for english. you hated to admit it, but theo was pretty smart and english was not only his best, but also his favorite subject. it often seemed like he was mrs walkers favorite, considering she loved to read what he wrote and you had to admit he was doing a great job at writing the bands owns songs, even if some of them were about you.

"you're right" you nodded your head, acting as if you just remembered something "now that i think about it, i remember how little maturity you have in you"

"shot right through my heart" theo gestured to his chest and mattheo next to him had the nerve to giggle.

"what are you laughing at?"

mattheo's smile died down. "i see, we're not having a particulary good morning, are we?"

"well, you're onto something, genius" you said sarcastically.

"jeez" mattheo tried to hide behind his best friend "she must've heard the song" he whispered loud enough for you to hear"

"obviously i did, riddle" you rolled your eyes "does at least one of you have critical thinking skills? because this is getting repetitive"

mattheo kindly ignored your comment about his intelligence. "i really don't get you, i didn't think you would be this angry, honestly. i mean, it's just a harmless song isn't it?" mattheo shrugged "who can say that a band wrote a song about them?"

"harmless?" you repeated laughing in disbelief "you called me and i quote 'clumsy old crow'"

"oops" theo looked up the ceiling, as if something interesting was happening up there. you could see the amusement on his face and you hated how much fun he was having by only listening to you and mattheo talk.

"we also called you enchanting if it helps" mattheo smiled.

"it doesn't" you deadpanned and his smile faded.

mattheo shrugged "as i said before, i'm not getting you. the song might not be the nicest, but you have to think into the future. in ten years you can brag about the song!"

you send him a look "not the nicest" you repeated "your little bitch friend here is a petty asshole, who cannot, for the love of him, let go of anything" you said every word as slow and calm as possible, so mattheo was able to follow your train of thought. "and also i am thinking into the future. right now your band is as famous as my left toe and will probably always be. in ten years one of you will, a hundred percent, be in jail and if it's not zabini, i bet it'll be you. so, nothing to really brag about, you get me now, matty?" you leaned back in your chair with a triumphant smile. mattheo was pretty stunned at what you had said and it took him a few seconds to find his confidence.

"wha- i'm not gonna be in jail" he crossed his arms. theo next to him just shrugged and mattheo looked at him in betrayal. "okay, maybe, but only because i threw out a tv from a hotel room after we got that record deal"

theo's head turned at him as fast as yours did.

"record deal?" you asked.

"yeah" mattheo laughed, before he turned to theo in confusion "you didn't tell her?"

theo shook his head "it's not like we're the best of friends, mate"

"well, i thought because of le-" theo had elbowed his friend into the side, which made mattheo shut up immediately.

"what about leo?" you leaned over theo, knowing that he would rather ignore your question than mattheo would.

before mattheo could answer you, or theo stop him from doing so, mrs walker walked into the room, effectively shutting up the whole class.

you took one last irritated look in theo's direction, whose eyes were fixated on the teacher in front of you, before you turned to the book april and you were sharing, opening it to the right page.

taglist:

@7s3ven @madi-potter @shereadsandcries @getosbeloved @mischieftom @wolfstar-jpg @t00thfairy20 @chcrrysblog @aestramjackson @elina3011 @kr1nqu @hopeless-y @mitskiswift99 @fallingblackveils @ahead-fullofdreams @helendeath @schaebickel @chubbychasermattheotruther @punkprincess03 @subparslytherin @girlbooklover555

[kim-jongin-s]

svt fic recs (mostly nc-17; jeongcheol, minwon, multis + other)

JEONGCHEOL

"you don't understand (you should never know)". f1!au. oneshot, 2k. nc-17.

Mercedes AMG Petronas F1 team's Choi Seungcheol and Yoon Jeonghan are in the midst of battling it out for the Formula One World Drivers' Championship.

"the necessity of living". omegaverse: alpha!sc, omega!jh. oneshot, 3k. nc-17.

"Jeonghan," Seungcheol says, strangled.

Jeonghan closes his eyes. Oh god, he thinks hysterically. Not this again.

"beginning song". soulmate!au. oneshot, 17k. pg-13. ♡

He’d thought, when he was younger, that his feelings for Jeonghan would eventually fade with time. But time seems to have done the opposite. Seungcheol isn't sure which version of reality might be worse: one where Jeonghan isn't his soulmate, or one where he is.

"ready to love". oneshot, 20k. nc-17.

“Felt nice, right?” Jeonghan murmurs benignly. Warning bells sound in the depths of Seungcheol’s consciousness. He’s attuned to Jeonghan’s brand of troublemaking; nothing good could possibly follow that tone of Jeonghan’s voice.

"eulalia (silver grass)". wolf!au. oneshot, 20k. nc-17. ♡

There’s a new scent in the pack’s hanok. It’s getting under Jeonghan’s skin.

"one step closer". royalty!au. 5 chapters, 132k. nc-17.

The West nations crown prince Yoon Jeonghan loses his position, land, and all of his pride in a war with the East nation's Emperor Choi Seungcheol. The next thing he knows, he's being referred to as betrothed of the Emperor.

MINWON

"miss me?". oneshot, 1k. nc-17.

Where they miss each other.

"here kitty kitty". hybrid!au: cat!ww, panther!mg. twoshot, 26k. nc-17. ♡

Panther hybrid Mingyu visits a housecat hybrid village and causes quite the stir.

"sweet accident". au, age gap, prime minister!mg. 12 chapters, 34k. nc-17. ♡

“Jeon… Wonwoo… age twenty…three…college… student… no… gag reflex. Status…very… available.”

MULTI

"rewind and repeat". s.coups/jeonghan/joshua. age gap, omegaverse: alpha!sc, omega!jh, alpha!js. oneshot, 3k. nc-17. ♡

There is shame, in letting men nearly ten years younger than him tumble into his bed. Jeonghan almost feels guilty.

"synced threes". wonwoo/seokmin/mingyu. oneshot, 5.6k. nc-17. ♡

“This is what you two do on a night without me?”

"cognitive dissonance". jeonghan/svt. au, age gap, professor!jh. oneshot, 7k. nc-17 (pls check the tags!).

“Mr. Yoon…?” Jeonghan looks up again, his stare unfocused. His mouth is so pink Soonyoung can nearly imagine the heat of it against his own.

"it takes three to tango". s.coups/wonwoo/dino. au. oneshot, 15k. nc-17. ♡

There was no room in their love for a third person, of that, Wonwoo was entirely sure, but there was plenty of space for a third in their bed, and Chan would fit quite nicely.

"being a beta". s.coups/jeonghan/joshua. omegaverse: alpha!sc, omega!jh, beta!js. twoshot, 24k. nc-17.

Hong Joshua enjoyed being a beta. Being a beta meant a quiet, simple life without being subjected to biology in the way alphas and omegas often were. Too bad he was deeply in love with an omega who craved an alpha mate.

OTHER

"an appropriate distance". seokgyu. omegaverse: omega!sm, omega!mg. oneshot, 6.6k. nc-17.

It's like this: Seokmin helps out with Mingyu’s heat, but not the other way around. Maybe Seokmin is the one holding Mingyu at arm’s length, but it's better this way.

"i'm sorry every song's about you". junhao. band!au. oneshot, 10k. nc-17.

The bass of their songs is always what sticks with Minghao the most. Junhui sticks with Minghao too.

"sip on your lips". sooncheol. au, age gap, single dad!sc. oneshot, 11k. nc-17.

Soonyoung finds it a little too hard to say no to the hot single dad across the hall.

"of the color gray". wonchan. fantasy!au: demon!ww, witch!dn. oneshot, 16k. nc-17.

Chan accidentally summons and binds himself to a lust demon. It turns out better than expected.

"son of nyx". verkwan. spy!au. 3 chapters, 31k. pg-13.

Hansol Vernon Chwe is eighteen when he decides to follow Seungkwan to the end of the earth, even if it means becoming a contracted agent with no guaranteed future.

[seraphdreams]

NO PHOTOS — BAJI KEISUKE/KAZUTORA HANEMIYA.

— CONTAINS. fem!reader, 3some, slight choking, praise/degradation, reader is referred to as sweetheart and doll, multiple rounds, tora is an energetic fucker. 18+ mdni.

— WORD COUNT. 4.0k

— NOTES. this is like my 50th repost cause i’m trying to not get flagged but i hope you enjoy the first addition to this miniseries. i really loved writing it all and i hope i don’t have to repost it again :( also listen to the song “no photos” by don toliver!

— LINKS. series masterlist — general masterlist.

They say rivalries could fuck up a friendship.

Not particularly for Baji and Kazutora though.

Rivalry was invigorating to them, something they needed in their day to day lives like water to survive, and even after their childhood years, they still found themselves battling against each other somehow. So, it didn’t come as much of a surprise to Kazutora when he arrived at Bonten’s freshly established headquarters, complete with its own separate hotel and casino, to see that his opponent was Shibuya’s best, Baji Keisuke.

A smirk then followed a laugh when Hanemiya thought over it more. Baji? It’d been years since he last saw his best friend, his only fond memory being attending Keisuke’s graduation; How strange of someone with their veterinary degree to take on racing. To each their own, he presumed.

In turn, however, Kazutora spent most of his time in jail. Trouble seemed to follow him everywhere he went like a lost puppy with its unreliable owner. And at the end of every day, he promised himself he’d get better—He had to. And he did. Prison struck the opportunity for him to pick up new dexterities, other than his last hobby of breaking and entering. With that, he grew increasingly knowledgeable in the field of motorbikes. Once he got out, he landed himself a job at a local bike shop. Comfortable; the pay was great, he did what he loved, and when he was exceptionally lucky, he’d get to compete against others in his area, being an undefeated favorite as well.

Now with him settled into his suite, alongside his roguish roommate, the need for competition grew stronger.

“It’s been a minute, huh, Keisuke?” Kazutora sighs out, laying across the opposite side of his bed. Coming from Tora, it was rich. Rich in the sense that whenever it came down to the two going head to head back in Shibuya, Kazutora conveniently found himself sitting in a cell. “Sure has. I was startin’ to think your bum ass was scared of me.” Baji responds with a snicker, adjusting his head on the headboard of the luxurious hotel bed.

“Never. But hey..” Kazutora starts, sitting up straight and resting his weight against his hands behind him. From the shift in octave of his last vocables, Baji knew to listen intently despite aimlessly scrolling on his phone. Probably looking at bikes again..

“Y’seen that new girl Bonten’s been hoarding? Fucking gorgeous.” Kei’s focus flits immediately to Hanemiya. “New girl?”

If you could only see the look on Tora’s face when he described you, as if he’d seen an angel from Heaven and came back down to Earth just to report it back to Baji. It was entertaining to say the least, how expressive he got when telling Keisuke you were about this tall, and your hair was the sexiest shade of this color, and he can’t fucking forget about your body. Each dip and curve of your frame was engraved into his brain with so much depth that if he’d somehow end up with amnesia, he couldn’t forget—He wouldn’t forget.

“Sounds like a real peach. The hell they need her for?” Baji queries. The truth being, Bonten needed you as a morale booster. Someone to remind them they were human even after a gruesome day’s work, and of course at times they’d get distracted, bend you over the desk in God-knows-who’s office just to make the prettiest mess out of you. It kept their spirits high, and they were fun men so you didn’t mind as much as you should’ve.

Kazutora thought for a second on what his next words would be. Spontaneously, he asks, “Wanna find out?” The question didn’t quite register in Baji’s mind until Tora graciously added that you were the designated flag girl. What a shame it’d be if you didn’t get to know your racers a few hours before they become less than friends and more than foe.

—

Last night’s packing took an immense amount of your energy, leaving you only to manage a quick shower in the morning after less than a full night's rest. You blamed Haru; That forgetful bastard, only he would make the mistake of relaying to you that the flight leaves at 6 A.M instead of P.M, which forced you to scramble for time you thought you had.

When you finally arrived at your suite, you opted for a nap to rejuvenate lost time, and fortunately you had been granted the night shift at what was beginning to feel like your new part-time job. You slept soundly without distractions for the next few hours, and once you awoke, a necessary shower was in your presence.

It wasn’t until you stepped out of the shower that you noticed your phone buzzing on the counter, paired with an unknown caller ID at the top of the screen. Normally, you’d ignore it, wait for the ringing to stop and carry on with whatever plans you had for the day, but since Bonten had a particular way of wiring your phone, to say the least, who knew what business you could be called in for.

“Hello?” You hold the phone between your ear and shoulder as you drape the towel around your dampened body. A soft voice projects through the other line, so gentle as though it were merely a whisper. “Is this Y/N?”

You move on to heading out the bathroom and into the bedroom where you set the phone on speaker and begin to apply your smell-goods. “Mhm, what’re you calling for?” There’s a brief bout of silence from the other side until the familiarity of hearing that docile tone vacated and it was replaced by a deeper, brasher timbre. “Y’not busy, are ya? Gotta race in a minute ‘nd ‘m losin’ motivation, sweetheart.” The sentiment of the pet name had heat surging through your body.

This must’ve been what Rindou was talking about. And to think all that talk about needing to “stick close by his side” because the others were bound to want you, was just a scheme to be possessive. Maybe actually listening to Bonten could teach you a few things.

You weren’t dumb as to not realize who was on the phone. It clicked for you the moment you heard his voice. He was your Boss’s friend, the one you reigned attractive against the others in the photos he’d shown you. Mikey had warned you that he was an unpredictable man, but seeing as Sanzu was someone you dealt with on a daily basis (regardless of if you wanted to or not), Baji was nothing.

Surely, you weren’t too busy with anything, and a quick welcome visit couldn’t hurt. “Not busy at all. Which room are you in, Keisuke?”

Fucking hell. Just how cute can you get? Kei tries his hardest to not let the grin on his features go noticed, or to not let the excitement rush straight to his dick, yet he fails at both. “Na, Kazutora..” You could hear him on the other end calling for Tora’s attention. “What room are we in?”

You couldn’t hear Tora’s response over the phone but luckily Baji was gracious enough to repeat it a second time, not necessarily just for you to hear; but for emphasis. An allure, roughly.

Room 602 — Who knows what’s to come?

Luckily, you were provided with the cutest checkered set, a gift from Ran Haitani himself—complete with a teensy tiny skirt and tight little crop top that left no part of your chest to the imagination. Truly adorable, the way it had fit your body, the uneasy feeling of bareness waning away once you stepped into your platform Miu Miu heels.

After some twirling in the mirror, you felt ready enough to make your way to their suite. You knocked gently against the lacquered door, in contrast to how sturdy, heavy almost, it felt underneath your knuckles. The handle turns and the door is pulled from the inside, revealing the men who occupied the area.

They had to be over 6’0, the both of them. You weren’t expecting to be towered over within the first ten seconds of arriving, it was evident on their features that they found you rather cute. The one you came to recognize as Baji was posted against the wall with his arms crossed, sharp eyes taking you in gradually. Hmm, intimidating.

The other held the door open, a soft close-eyed smile on his face. Ran would make the same expression with you at times too. A dark mole near his right eye gave him a more feminine look in comparison to the raven haired male a foot behind him. He seemed friendly, this must’ve been the carrier of the dulcet voice you heard from before.

“Cute outfit, that what you’re wearing tonight?” Baji queries, relaxing his stance in the slightest. Kazutora pulls the door in more, allowing you ample room to slip past him and to shut the door behind you. It takes a while for you to slowly nod while taking in the view of their room. Bonten really outdid themselves when coming up with floor plans for the hotel because every inch of each square foot seemed to be crafted specifically to fit their divine tastes. Nevertheless, a golden view of the water from the window situated in the living space. “I’ll try not to ruin it then.” Huh? What does he mean by that?

Your focus hastily snaps back to the man before you, a sinister smirk quirking at his lips that reveals two sharp… fangs? He’s far more frightening in person.

A hand on your wrist enthusiastically guides you to their room, it’s Kazutora, sitting you down amongst the bedsheets. Baji follows behind him, sitting across from you two. “Tora, relax. You’ll scare her.” You giggle at Keisuke’s assertiveness, receiving an eyebrow raise from him as soon as the airy chuckles reach his ears. “‘m not scared.” You respond, hands placed over your bare thighs.

“You’re so cute, like a doll. You’d let us get to know you a bit?” Kazutora’s voice resonates from the side of you he sat beside. You turn to look at him only now noticing his golden-hued eyes.

Very pretty.

“Of course.” Your response came out in a reassuring tone, the pair falling harder and harder for you as each second passes. Kazutora’s hands wrap around your waist to pull you closer to him, the tips of his fingers dancing dangerously close to your inner thighs.

“You gotta boyfriend?” He sing-songs. Baji leans in closer despite only being two feet away, his hands folded and rested over his lap. “Not technically.” You chime out, feeling as though you’ll go dizzy from the tantalizing scent of the man beside you.

“Not technically?” It’s Baji’s voice you hear now. “I mean, ‘m not with Bonten, but sometimes they treat me like a girlfriend.” Which wasn’t far from the truth. Your relationship with Bonten could be described as something similar to a friends with benefits ordeal. Not quite, but not far off.

“Your little boyfriends would probably be disappointed if they found out you were here, huh?” In response to Baji’s question, you shake your head. “They don’t have to know.”

So perfect and so fucking dumb. What did they do to deserve you?

Kazutora’s hand trails up your abdomen, to your sternum, and right under your jaw where he grips your throat with the lightest pressure and angles your head upwards to meet his eyes.

Those same friendly orbs from before diminished into something colder, with the faintest hint of mirth behind them. “Be honest with me, pretty baby. Who do ya think is gonna win today’s race? Me, or Keisuke?”

Hypnosis is what it felt like when you stared into his eyes, attempting to muster up an answer that would satisfy both parties, although you just… didn’t know. Kei’s eyes narrow as they land on Tora’s, the quick glance they give each other filled with devilry.

“I-I don’t know.” You give him your final resolve. Kazutora releases his grip on you and moves his hands back to your thighs, slightly pushing them open to reveal the barely there panties you wore underneath your skirt. “Don’t know?” Hanemiya’s voice is whispered against the shell of your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. “How ‘bout we show you? You’d like that?” Hands that were previously between your thighs find themselves tugging down your little shirt, kneading the flesh of your tits softly. You elicit a low whine, nodding your head as Baji situates himself between your thighs, using his sharp teeth to pull the fabric of your panties down until they hang off one ankle.

“Imma make ya feel fucking good.” His eyes lock onto yours as he uses his tongue to switch between flicking and sucking at your clit. Kazutora settles behind you, allowing you to somewhat rest against his back while he continuously plays with your nipples.

Baji’s tongue is dangerous, he’s messy. The feeling of the wet muscle in and out of your core causes a docile whine to reverberate from your throat. He keeps your shaky legs open with his large, calloused hands, his pointed nose inadvertently aiding in the pleasure stemming from your clit and the only way you can really react is by bucking your hips up like a desperate whore. You couldn’t help it, he knows he’s too good.

“Kei-Keisuke!” You stutter out, hand moving to tangle in his dark locks, tugging gently. He returns your whine with a groan, speeding up his ministrations which make your hole twitch around him, legs threatening to close any second. From his perspective, you looked like an angel. Everything about you so sweet, cute, and innocent. Just the thought of knowing how other men have had their way with you, gets him harder than a fucking rock.

It’s incredibly messy at this point. Kazutora’s lips take purchase on yours, kissing you sloppy and rough. His fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples cause you to go crazy, just a thread holding you back from your orgasm. You’re so incredibly wet too, Keisuke can’t even tell if the strings of slick dripping down the bedsheets come from his saliva or the growth of your arousal.

You can't take anymore at this point, opting to run away from the pleasure instead of giving in, but Baji’s hands grip hard around the fat of your thighs, keeping you still as he gives you a sharp glance, one that’s only a warning. Kazutora pulls away to recollect his breath, eyes scanning over the scene on display. There’s a dopey grin on his face that you miss as he watches your clit twitch. “Fuck, her pussy’s so pretty!”

“Gonna cum! L-Lemme cum!” Your voice is slurred, hips uncontrollably rutting into Baji’s mouth. He slows the jerking of his own hips against the mattress, pulling away from your heat and replacing the lost feeling with his fingers on your clit. He circles them against the nub with slight pressure, watching how your jaw drops open and sonorous mewls slip out.

“This whatcha wanted? Y’sound so pretty, even that pussy’s talkin’ ta me.”

You were too caught up in your own pleasure to even notice the raunchy squelches of your creamy cunt resonating throughout the room. How embarrassing.

It only takes a few more moments for your body to convulse under the sensation, your juices dripping down Kei’s arm and back arched against Kazutora’s chest. “Atta-fucking-girl! Look at that!” Tora coos. That signature smirk returns back to Baji’s features, mesmerized with the way your pussy pulses in orgasm. “We’re gonna have so much fun witcha tonight.”

Keisuke sits up, kneeling at one side of the bed, repositioning you so that you’re arched nice and pretty for him while Kazutora kneels at the other end, your face millimeters from his cock. Kei wraps five digits around the back of your neck, pulling you towards him to meet his eyes. You stare up at him with those angelic orbs, doe eyes rendering nothing behind them, just pure vacancy while you pout in the slightest, a reaction from his vice-like grip around your throat. “Y’gonna take it all for us?” A quiet mhm is muttered from your throat, Baji beaming down at you with his menacing smile, satisfied with your answer. “Be careful with Tora,” Keisuke lets his grip go and he leans down over you, whispering into your ear, loud enough for the other to hear. “He’s a throat fucker.”

He sits back up straight, unzipping his pants slowly before taking out his hard-on. If only you could see how much Kei leaked, just how huge it was. You could only guess when he teasingly slipped the tip in and out, entertained with the way you stretched around him. Kazutora, on the other hand, slides his length down your throat fully, not giving you any time to adjust to his size. Instinctively, you wrap your lips around his shaft, gradually building up a bobbing rhythm.

Kei wanes his teasing enough when he watches how well you envelop the half-blond. He slowly pushes into you at the hilt, sighing out a deep rasp before practically pounding your hole, leaving you no room to adjust to his massive cock.

God, his dick is fucking heavy. It stretches you out wide enough to the point where you feel as though your cunt can’t take anymore, all while your hands grip the sheets underneath you for leverage that only helps in the slightest. Tora’s hand grips at the hollow of your cheek while you continue to take as much of him as you can. He’s really trying his hardest to not let his hips take control and accept the pleasure you’re languidly giving him, yet he fails, letting his hips reel back and cock slip down your awaiting throat. His thrusts are hard in tandem with Baji’s, both the men using you to get off.

Little tears begin to pool at your waterline which Kazutora finds amusement in, fucking your throat at a faster, wilder pace. Vibrations from your throat shoot through the parameters of his length, eliciting a whimper which follows a groan. “So fuckin’ good, baby..”

A harsh slap stings across your ass once Keisuke finds his rhythm, the warmth and wetness of your hole inviting him in like he was just meant to be there. You wince in response, trying your hardest to not run from the pleasure. “Guess your men are good for something, cause fuck, you take it so well.” His hand slips down partially, enough for his thumb to enter your puckered hole, pumping the digit slowly. From this, your eyes roll into the back of your head, legs starting to feel like jello and even you can’t seem to keep yourself arched for him. “Y’got so tight after that, ‘s like you want me to cum in you.”

Your mind goes hazy, the only thing bouncing around in that empty brain of yours being the need to make a mess. Just the feeling alone of being used like a toy has your core tightening, the sign of your next orgasm. Tora’s grasp on your cheeks reach lower, the taut sensation of his hand now around your neck. He groans while watching as his cock struggles to fit down your throat. He could virtually grab his phone and record how he’s having his way with you, possibly use it for future reference when he’s alone and missing the warmth you give him.

“Ah shit, I think the little thing’s gonna cum. Is that right?” Keisuke goads, using both hands to pull your faltering hips back up. A tiny mhmm is sounded from your throat and he takes his fingers to rub your clit in tight circles. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he coaxed your orgasm from you, spit dripping from your lips and around Tora’s shaft as a sheer layer of your essence coats the entirety of Keisuke’s cock.

The sight of it all has Tora’s eyes crossing and balls tightening, being the first to shoot his load into your mouth. He gradually slows his movements to a halt, pulling from your mouth to give you a chance to finally breathe. You’re gasping, practically choking when air settles back into your lungs, your body shaking from the overstimulation of Baji inside your heat.

There’s a hard thrust, then another before Baji releases inside you, creating a beautiful mosaic of the messes you both made. Quite the artist, he was.

Before you know it, you’re being manhandled into yet another position, this time being ass up for Kazutora and face to cock with Baji. Just how much stamina do these guys have?

Kazutora’s first to slip in, a more fucked out moan leaving his lips when he observes the way his cock slips easily into your cunt. You’re so fucking wet, he can’t think straight. Baji lines his length up with your lips, shallowly pushing in. “Just the tip, sweetheart. Wanna see if you know how to control yourself.” You wrap your lips around his plush tip, sucking harshly.

Tora finally starts to move. You’re just too fucking wet he can’t help it when he’s already getting carried away, fucking you senseless. Such a mess on his cock, he’s lost.

It was easier to take in as much as Baji prohibited but with the trajectory of Hanemiya’s thrusts, you’re going past your limit.

“Kazutora, slow the fuck down. You got her chokin’ on my cock more than she usually does” Baji hisses out, vexation fueling his arousal. Even though it wasn’t your fault, you’d probably apologize if you could, let the man before you know that you were totally capable of at least trying to keep control. Much to no avail, Kazutora refuses to ease up, instead letting pleasure overrun his senses.

It was loud. The sounds of skin slapping, mixtures of whining and groaning, anyone from outside the door could probably walk past and hear just how cute you sounded getting fucked out your mind. Maybe that’s what they wanted, the whole establishment to know that you weren’t just Bonten’s little slut, but theirs too.

The next few moments whizz by like nothing, your hole getting stuffed for a second time and your tongue met with the acrid flavor of cum. You’re splayed across the bed, heaving for air with fatigue growing inside you hastily. “So, who d’ya think was better? Me or Kei?” It’s that giddy tone that lets you know it’s Kazutora speaking. Both the men seem unaffected from the previous situations yet you're the one left winded. “Both..You both were really, really good.”

Kazutora makes a buzzer-like sound, as if you’d been mistaken in your resolve. “Wrong! There’s only one winner.” Baji scoffs at Kazutora’s antics, checking the time on his phone. “We should probably head out, seems like races’ll start soon.”

“Do me a favor, baby..” Baji’s words hang off the tip of his tongue purposefully as he makes his way to you, standing you up and adjusting your outfit back in place. “Be good and keep our cum stuffed in this tight little hole, or else your boyfriends’ll be real upset.”

He tilts his head in a mocking manner and you nod along.

A quick wave of goodbye and wishes of “good luck!” leave your lips as you finally leave the BajiTora abode. Tonight’s race should be interesting one.

— In the end, it was Kazutora who reigned victorious, leaving Baji to his first defeat. The victor didn’t matter to them, they just enjoyed it; enjoyed being together whenever they could. For sure, Chifuyu would have to hear about this once they get back home.

After your limited experience of waving around a flag while trying to keep your panties from revealing too much, you grew tired, quite frankly. There had to be other things to do once races completed.

“Wonder what Koko’s doing!”

[kairiscorner]

Okay okay, hear me out. Miguel trying to figure out your secret identity because you're the only spider person who hasn't shared their backstory and Lyla can't find anything about you besides your spidersona, so he breaks his own rule and sneaks into your dimension in disguise, searches the city for you and is ready to go home with a failed personal mission, till (thanks to his super hearing) he hears you singing in your apartment and sees your open window with all your plants and a stray happily sunning itself while you tend to them all, and he's just mesmerized on the street cause like, woah. 🌷🌷🌷

oH MY GOD–I LOVE THIS !!! bc i recently also watched rocketman, i'm making y/n sing an elton john song favorite of mine 💖

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

hold me closer, tiny dancer. – miguel o'hara x reader

as night fell in the city, cicadas and crickets hummed their songs in the bright, moonlit evening of tonight in the humble boulevard of the dimension you belonged to. you didn't live in the most well-off or best town in the city, but it was your home; your home that nobody else in HQ ever knew was even yours. you were a complete enigma to the rest of the multiverse, and you preferred to stay that way. it didn't bother you one bit that you only had your little rooftop garden to tend to and greet when you get home from a long mission. you made yourself a warm cup of tea and sat down by your little wooden table by your rooftop, your outdoor plants hung up by the macrame hangers you made for them all. you looked off at the yellow and white studded distance beyond your balcony and smiled slightly to yourself, enjoying the silence and solace of being alone, in your own home, in your own space. though little did you know... someone was searching for you, trying to figure out just who you were; it was no adoring fan of yours from this dimension, it was instead a coworker, your colleague back in earth-928: miguel o'hara.

"this is hypo and critical, mig." lyla warned miguel as he lifted up his gray jacket's hoodie up on his head as he scanned his surroundings. "would you kindly shut up and let me do my job?" he snapped at the AI assistant as she raised an eyebrow at him, shrugging. "one, i do all the scanning and difficult processing stuff for you in the nanoseconds, stand back and let me do my job. two, not my fault my servers don't have anything on them. just turn back now, miguel, it isn't worth finding out who they are—these are your principles, by the way." she reminded miguel as he sighed and covered the watch she was being projected from with his hand as he hid behind an apartment building. the surroundings were pretty clear, nobody else roamed these streets at night, except for a few night crawling critters that sung about in the night. though these creatures weren't the only singers of the night, for as miguel was about to head off in the opposite direction to begin searching for the person behind the spider person mask he had been so used to seeing—yearning to see the lovely face hidden underneath it—he had heard the opening notes of a classic melody being played on a piano. the melody sounded as though it were recorded, its sound was being carried out from a couple of speakers that didn't sound modern in the slightest.

"what is that?" miguel asked aloud to nobody in particular. "they're the opening notes to the elton john song, 'tiny dancer'. it's cute as hell." lyla said with a grin as miguel stepped out of the shadow of the big building and followed the sounds. the song reverberating from the speakers was fainter, but a new symphonic sound rang in his ears. a voice? a voice rang out in the depths of the otherwise silent, unbothered evening in this quiet, ordinary boulevard in your quiet, ordinary dimension—for the most part. as the song progressed, miguel had finally pulled himself out of the shadows and seen the lit up home you had. he took in the full view of the balcony of yours that was adorned with macrame hangers, potted plants of all different sizes and colors, and... you, there, looking off into the distance, smiling as that sonorous voice came from you.

"pretty-eyed... pirate smile... you'll marry a music man." you sang along as the song went on, taking a spray bottle from near the railing and humming the rest of the song's lyrics, spraying water on the plants' leaves all carefully and gently murmuring to the plants how big and healthy they've gotten. you smiled and continued singing the song as it got closer and closer to your favorite part of the song. "looking on... she sings the songs... the words she knows, the tune she hums..." you continued as you set the spray bottle down finally and sat down on your chair by the balcony, with miguel peering his head up ever so slightly to catch a better glimpse of you. "i know that voice..." he muttered as he almost accidentally slipped and landed in the light emitting from your home. "but, oh, how it feels so real—lying here, with no one near; only you, and you can hear me. when i say softly... slowly..." you sang in a gentle voice as you got up slowly and put one foot over the other, as if in a ballerina position and raised your arms slightly, not caring who would see... not knowing miguel was watching you perform for yourself in full view. "hold me closer, tiny dancer... count the headlights on the highway..." you sang as you twirled yourself around gracefully, with the skills of a poised ballet dancer. your gentle, elegant movements made miguel pause and open his mouth slightly ajar in amazement. "they're... wow." he whispered to himself as you put your arms down and sighed, re-entering your home and sliding the windows closed, disappearing into your home for the night. miguel had known you were a sophisticated fighter that always carried honor in their hearts and poise in their movements—but he never witnessed you perform, let alone so freely, happily and... alive.

"y'done?" lyla asked miguel, snapping him out of his trance. "a-ah, right, um... okay. we... can go home now." "something tells me you don't wanna just yet." lyla pointed out as miguel darted his eyes back up to your unit and quickly tore his gaze away with a sigh as he put in the coordinates back to HQ, opening a portal and stepping foot in it, casting one last glance back up at your humble little apartment, the apartment where the tiny dancer who has his heart performed for the very first evening when his life felt like it really started now. "...it doesn't matter what i want. i got what i came here for, let's go." he whispered as he moved his gaze away from your home and wordlessly bid your dimension a goodbye, or rather... a see-you soon.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @ophanimgold @fictarian @yuridopted0 @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok

[tigreblvnc]

NSFW BLUE LOCK OPTION* MATCHUP EXCHANGE — @lumiambrose *Pick the character of your choice!

— Itoshi Sae

We all know that Sae isn’t the sweetest man on earth. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. We don’t know much about his private life. We don’t know much about his life at all.

Thanks to Shidou, we at least know that Sae has an Instagram account. That said, it's a safe bet that it’s not even him who replies to his fans’ messages -- his manager probably handles the annoying stuff. But did you know that Sae has various other apps on his phone?

Yeah, there’s this one in particular. Hidden in a folder. Inside another folder.

Because some things must be kept secret.

"9 am. Be ready."

The message makes you skip a heartbeat.

Sae.

It was rare to receive a sign of life from him. It was even rarer for him to be the first to initiate a meeting. Before his return to Japan, he had sent you a date. An address. A hotel room number. A way to dress. Sae was not usually the kind of man to worry about details, as everything was easy for him. But for certain things, certain, very, very precise things, he could appear as the biggest control freak this earth has ever known.

And here you are behind door 1010. Facing the bay window overlooking Tokyo, you wear the delicate silk. It hugs your contours, feels like a skin of paradise on your warm epidermis.

Someone enters without knocking. You don't need to ask who. You turn towards the entrance, the manifestation of life that blossoms at your voice. There is so much to say, so much to ask. But only one chance, only one possible attempt.

"...Sae."

It's the only word that manages to cross your lips. The one with magenta hair advances. Your eyes rest on the suitcase he brings with him.

"The trip went well?" you ask, almost in a tone of confidence. "It went."

The case of his personal effects is left near the coffee table. Sae doesn't have much time, and you know it. When his gaze, cold as frost, clashes with your eyes, you swallow. He advances. His step is slow. Unbearable and devouring.

"We're going to do this quickly." "Don't hold back."

There was no fear. Only an agreement between two written messages. Between long sinuous discussions, sometimes interspersed with long silences. It was the time it took for Sae's hunger to grow.

"Get on the bed."

And your silhouette lay on the dune of sheets, satin threads draping over the curve of your thighs. Your view opened onto the cracks in the ceiling, and soon, wine-colored locks entered your field of vision. Sae did not lie down. He never actually lay down next to someone. Even after surrender, he would roll to the side, seeming to return to a state of solitude that could not be tamed.

His hand moves closer. Closer still. Until it traces the delicate hollows of your clavicles. He brushed away the brown strands to reveal your neckline. It was the place he loved to mark the most.

"One day. Your name. Right here... Just three little letters." you say with a teasing smile.

And you stuck out your tongue playfully as your body intertwined with the covers again. A snort escaped Sae. His movements stopped.

"Do you think that's how I brand my cattle? So vulgarly?"

The frown lines appeared at the crossing of his eyebrows.

"Hmm. Maybe... No?" you puffed out your cheeks in mock displeasure.

His fingers paused at the height of your jugular. Seemed to consider the warmth pulsing under the thick vein. The heat attracted Sae. He always seemed cold.

So cold.

"So? Still not determined to rip my clothes off? I thought we were going to do this quickly..." your sing-song voice resonated in Sae's ears, whose neutral expression hadn't changed. "Or maybe you didn't miss me that much... Hm?"

"Shut up."

His tone grazed your skin as his hand settled on your throat to silence the music. Gradually his back lost height, and his shadow swallowed you. The heaviness of his breath crashed into your eardrum.

"You talk too much."

And then your arms encircled him in a sudden embrace.

"...I missed you." you murmur. "Don't touch me." "Then touch me."

Your knees lifted, brushing his sides then the bridge of his ribs that opened under the sports jacket. Gradually, the cage of your thighs closed around his hips.

"Two years weren't enough to calm you down." his breathing was heavy. "An eternity wouldn't." "Then I'll have to teach you."

His weight pressed against your chest, plunging your intertwined silhouettes into the hollow of the duvet. He insinuated himself into every corner of you, his breath heavy, as if he would never fully surrender to anyone. Your silent giggle got lost in his ear, and already you could feel your decency being stripped away, lower down. The cotton slid, outlining the shape of a knee and then an ankle, until it abandoned itself on the floor. Something else moved, seeking its way. The budding fire drew a wider smile from you. Every time you tried to grasp that sculpted back, Sae pushed you away, grabbing arms and then wrists to anchor them to the seams of the mattress.

"Don't move." "Or what?"

His response came quickly as his mouth lunged at your neckline, searching for the vein to pierce. Canines sank into flesh, eliciting a jolt of surprise as your back arched. His kisses tasted raw, like a sharp blade piercing your skin.

"Sae..."

The blaze of his growls scorched your skin as he anchored himself, knees planted on the bed, looming over your exposed vulnerability. He devoured the carotid, slid down to the hollow of your neck, and then began at the rise of your chest. His hunger pushed aside the fabric, his ravenous appetite seeped into the cradle of your breath, where your heart filled with love for him.

Since they could do nothing under the weight that pinned them to the bed, your fists closed on emptiness, yet aching to tangle in the magenta locks that bowed over you.

Instinctively, everything in you gradually unraveled to make way. Sae felt it and approached closer to the gates, a blind struggle with his own walls to lower what kept his fury sealed.

He didn't wait. He asked nothing. He simply entered.

Even in this room, where two years of silence had passed Sae entered without announcing himself.

There was something electrifying in the force he used to cross. Everything inside you tightened to trap the intruder. Finally, your fists escaped his authority and seized sides and back. His body leaned forward as he advanced. The shape of his desire pressed against the thin skin of your belly. When he was buried deep inside, his lips parted, and a torrent of growls finally erupted. Nestled on the edge of your neck he swore.

And the tide began. The wave was slow and then faster. Your velvet embraced his contours, tracing the veins that surged and receded.

The waltz lasted a time that seemed so short, so infinite. The heart, a drum with a dissonant beat under the halts of pleasure, threatened soon to explode. It took waiting for the man to reach his climax to finally release the crescendo and let the fire out. When the cry of surrender pierced Sae's voice, you too celebrated, your euphoria spilling over.

Then the sea became calm again, and Sae went down like the tide.

The effort and the heat were pearling on his forehead, his temples.

And yet, facing the retreat, you raised yourself on your elbows, vestiges of euphoria oozing from your skin.

"Don't run from me." your voice made its way to him. "You know, with me, you can let go."

You couldn't see his face.

And his face emerged from the dunes, his gaze, emerald and striking, darkened.

"On your belly. Now."

A word about your match: It's a completely new format I used for this one. It's also the very first time I write an OS on this blog, it took a bit more time than expected. Hope you enjoyed it and that was understandable!

© TIGREBLVNC 2024 | INTERESTED IN A MATCHUP EXCHANGE? CHECK THIS.

[sudokuplayer]

MY LOVE IS A WEAPON THROWN ONTO THE OBLIVION OF YOUR BODY (taken from booklet of original art and essays by Sufjan Stevens, written to accompany his new album Javelin)

read essays ↓

1.MY LOVE My first love was an involuntary sound – the music of the spheres – a subdued, white-noise shuddering of my heart, a fluster of hummingbird vibrations that I could taste in the prenatal hemispheres of my mouth, body against body and brain against brain, two conjoined selves conjuring an off-shore thunderstorm in the horizontal distance, dazzling with flashes of metallic music and elemental chaos in the safe harbor of my mother’s womb. There was no light and no dark, no semblance of simile or semaphore. There was only the blurred and audible presence of a distant and divine voice hovering above the waters where I balanced between the prism of absence and presence on an inflatable dirigible of sea foam, wandering into the oleaginous abyss with a half-smile of hazardry and wizardry – my maiden voyage into the “unbeknownst” of oblivion. For what did I really know at this point in my primordial mindlessness? Nothing at all. I was struck dumb, created from ignorance and ether, first without function or features, then without order or form. I was sensation and consciousness postponed, a wet and placid portion of monotonous fruit cut in quarters awaiting heaven’s blessing. My only occupation at this point was to occupy, be occupied, preoccupy, and prevail nature in a womb-world of benevolence and buoyancy. The music of the heartbeat of the universe danced me to sleep. Within this realm, I was love and life supreme, undivided by thought, word and deed, a small promise kept until the act of doing would undo me for good. My birth was my undoing. And then I was born into oblivion.

2.IS I remember in college, falling in love for the first time, two spring months of rapture, residing on the tail end of a helium balloon. I was so giddy about everything: washing the dishes, tying my shoes, scrambling eggs, binding books, pulling berries off juniper trees. My infatuation had such an arrogant persuasion on the world around me. Everything as metaphor ascribed with romance. I remember, while mowing lawns on the college campus, finding an injured fledgling crow by the dining hall. I carried it to the biology lab, where we called a woman who ran an animal sanctuary from her home. She met us on a bike with a wicker basket. “You are doing the universe a great favor,” she said, holding the bird to her breast, like Mother Goose. The event provided endless fodder: for prose poems and folk songs and long conversations on the roof of the aspirin factory, where we got drunk on Boone’s Farm sangria, speculating on cosmic intentions and the order of the universe. So much meaning, so little time. I was young and dumb and in love. Guided by a perverse curiosity and a voracious sensation-of-the-imagination pivoting at the tip of my tongue, I marveled at the mysteries of life laid out before me, awaiting in the calm commotion between innocence and experience.

3.A WEAPON And then experience pummeled me. Many years later, after the long-suffering exhaustion of life had driven me into the bleak underbelly of realism, my most profound thought was sad and static: that nothing really matters, nobody loves me, and loneliness would always be my most devoted companion. In my new sobering worldview, absent of love, I began to encounter everything as an object without meaning, without modifier. The homeless man selling day-old newspapers on the subway was just a homeless man selling day-old newspapers on the subway. There was no metaphor, no rapture, no cosmic intentions. I had to ask myself: does this make the man, the newspaper, the subway, or myself any less meaningful? No. Quite the opposite. For what resided in that substantial vacancy where I was always prone to symbolize the world to death is exactly what I needed right then: Opportunity. Presence of Mind. Peace On Earth. Stable Stoicism. Absence of Metaphor. Responsibility. And Hard Facts. That was my prayer: to shake off the doting artistry of an over-eager poet with a proclivity to create dreams from doldrums; to approach the world as a concrete object, a thing to be held, not a thing to behold, or allegorized; to remain at peace and in careful jurisprudence in spite of the resentful intonation of my overarching loneliness that devastated innocent bystanders with all the magic castles of the imagination. I told myself: I must snuff out the candle of candy-corn dreams. I must soldier on like a dead-end daydream undeterred. I must be steadfast in the stolid presence and essence of common sense and survival. I must be true to life internal and reside in resignation at last.

4.THROWN My second love was less ecstatic, but more tragic: the “gift” of sight – an elemental flash of lightning, which struck me like a bag of metal shavings thrown out onto ice reflecting back at the centerpiece of my sternum. A sucker punch to the chest. My cold consciousness came into sharp focus, rattled by illuminating waves invading everything around me. The light was loud and extraordinary. And even with my eyes closed, my pupils began pontificating at the pornography of sight, and I was momentarily carved into madness. Seeing is believing is birth. I shuddered and shirked at the tangible evidence of something else – the others – the imposition of a sensation outside myself, in which everything was separated into opposable armies: the land from the waters, the air from the earth, the seasons from the doldrums, the seen from the unseen, sin from sainthood, light from dark, good from evil. Everything was put in its place by the curse of namesake. The world was now before me, beneath me, above me, and ultimately against me, a pressure foot pressed down on all sides. I felt a cold claustrophobia, empty and alone, trans-natal and tragic, baffled by the violence of this new environmental context. And to think I was just a silly beansprout of a thing shivering under the medical lights, squirming like an open earthworm, now tasked with this terrible act of naming. God gave me a pen and a pad of parchment paper. “Transcribe your feelings and your findings,” she said. “Do your thing. First thought, best thought.” I did as I was commanded, a dutiful sea urchin inching its way to the possibility of words and wisdom.

5.ONTO A world without language was once the indication of certain death. Soundless, voiceless, nameless vapor. A typography of empty vessels. The void! But now, what of the tragedy of names, spoken into existence with the demystification of words? I was culprit and complicit, identifying all the divergences, differentiations, variations, permutations, diversities, dichotomies and double entendres. Categorizing the animals, cutting them down to size, organizing the parts of the body with the parts of speech, a fanatical grammar-game of possession, domination and death. I had to ask myself: Is this manner of identification in the name of higher knowledge even if it disregards purpose, analysis, and compassion (observation absent of intention)? And how could it be undertaken without idolatry and ulterior motive? I desired the objectivity of the photography of the baby-brain, whose fuzzy visionary reception was a delightful nebula of perfumed consciousness and joy. I wanted to see the world coherently and without discretion, discernment, reduction, and deduction – unintelligible intelligence. Instead I began to perceive how intimate knowledge generates prosperity (fullness) and progeny (fruitfulness) – of ideas and offspring. To be “made known” was to be consummated: “Adam knew Eve” – intercourse as discourse (knowledge as physical/sexual engagement). To know someone was to take possession (to gain access, in confidence and with confidentiality). The exchange would potentially unveil the secret knowledge between lovers (the nominative ordinances of arousal) – wherein posterity would become the observable antecedents of this sacred wisdom, and pleasure would be its misfortune (of infatuation and love, of chaos and order). My sexual discourse began to die a slow death of observation and objectification, a nonsense category of substances seen and deemed believable, predicating a cosmic break from the universe: a psychic rebirth, from which invisible things transformed into figures of speech, wherein figures of speech were left dead in the wake of rivulets and rivers, drowning in a molten waterfall of dread, where they would meet their maker in linguistic whimsy. My death was now new life. My reincarnation, a reverse sublimation. I was made known; therefore, I knew nothing.

6.THE For a short time, my pet peeves were my shortcomings: dry skin in the morning – brushing off the bed sheets with bits of outer insulation from my body. Was I molting? I needed to drink more bitter herbs, I thought. I had chronic stomach pain, below the clavicle, a small fist of air. Sweet antacid, mint leaves, fennel seed tea. Invisible Anxiety. The pain in my leg: a hypochondriac’s dream. Soothing myself with palm oil and camphor. Small applications on the surface. At dinner with guests, supplementing aspirin with ice-water, saying very little otherwise, a friend agreed with everyone’s assessment: “Yes, sometimes you are cold and unfeeling. You could warm it up a little.” My apparent coolness – was it a matter of objective safety? That remote vacancy which I brought to every engagement, keeping the world at arm’s length, the anthropologist’s vantage point, sustaining the presumptive: was that my vocation – the judicious spectator, an odd outlier outlining all this activity while staying behind the line of sight? As the youngest sibling, I was always evaluating my older sisters with fierce judgment from the corner of the room, just out of reach: eavesdropping on phone conversations, catching glimpses of padded bras, curling irons, and maxi pads passed between casual doorways. Taking stock of the panoply of premature adulthood (teenage pregnancy), unruly rebellion (sneaking out at night), clumsy and combative excursions with our wicked step-mother (cat fights with elegantly finger-nailed fisticuffs). I watched from a dutiful distance, careful not to engage, harboring a catalog of tragicomic events and all their moral assessments in order to avoid the worst-case scenario for myself. I was in the world, but not of it. I learned from the mistakes of others: that I was nothing more than a mistake waiting to happen, potential energy. I learned from the mistletoe to keep watch overhead so as to avoid the dangling modifier of accidental affection. I learned from the stone in my shoe to keep walking through the pain with a staggering refrain in my step, a constant reminder of the brokenness of my body and the indefatigable self-loathing of my own self-consciousness.

7.OBLIVION My third love was a surprise affection – ticklish touching and tender swaddles of terry towels and cotton cloth wrapped in armfuls of goose down feathers transfixed in the careful undertaking of childcare. A sensual delight! I was an object to be objectified, a thing to squeeze and prickle, caress and carry about in a breadbasket. I grew from a pinecone to a pine tree, from a newt to a dinosaur, from a poppy-seed to a poppy flower bursting with fireworks. This love then transferred its fornications onto something wet, wild and ornithological – a flying, feathery python ascending to its countenance as a bastion of bridegrooms in a flaming aviary chariot of leathery kisses all aimed at my elbows. Hope is a thing with bird feeders. So I watched the feathered fowl crowd around the seeds and suet, grubs and grains with dinosaur intensity, beaks and claws doing their vast prehistoric business with messy execution. My lovers cawed at their community of plumy mishaps like transcendental mother hens: nuthatch and creeper, tanager and titmouse, blue jay and junco gallivanting together like an armful of woolen throw blankets clapping the dust from their ornamental features. Our fairy dance of foreplay lasted for days. Cat calls as birdsong with balloons, iambic pentameter poems, chimes that rhymed with clanging crystals hung on fishing line, and all the fanciful costumes with sequins and fringe, flowered bell bottoms, metallic body suits, reggae music, ballroom dancing, charm bracelets, diamond rings, glimmering little earrings with fly-fishing ornaments, and, on the last day, a very long and serious monologue about global warming. Our lovemaking was quick and witty, a little slutty and clumsy – nothing more than a jaunt, a quick choreography of slaps and body slams, two pigeons in a mosh pit, working things out in juvenilia. Nature had done its work. Afterward we lounged together in the afterglow with soft pillow talk and dreams of nest eggs and parenting, protecting, foraging, feeding, and changing diapers, all the domestic labors of love. But for now, in a warm bird bath, sunning ourselves with a glistening glow, I could only think of the sweet bliss of here and now, the wetness of loving kisses on my nape, my neck, my back, my rump, my foreshortened wings and a sweet nectar nightcap. Hope is a thing deferred, but a dream fulfilled is a tree of life.

8.OF My fourth love was peripatetic: a suitcase stored in an overhead bin on an airplane. Things beget things beget responsibilities. I procrastinated my life by traveling far from it. A day before the voyage, I stayed up late in the polar forces of the night, diligently packing the baggage on the couch, opened up like can of tuna fish, a glass of lemon juice on the nightstand (master cleanse), the Siamese cat washing itself, the dollar store dishes in the sink, my dirty clothes in a paper bag. The last time I had left for this kind of trip, my things were in boxes in one room on the second floor of a gated town house in God-knows-where, New York. Now everything had been transferred as in a swap meet, boxes upon boxes, things upon things, other voices, other rooms. The living room was a labyrinth of speculative journeys, a crossword puzzle of travel prompts. Outside, gale force winds rose to the occasion, knocking on the windows like unwanted guests. I imagined the weather overtaking everything in an apocalyptic frenzy: cups and saucers trembling in tongues, plastic wrap coming undone in a transparent wedding train, pillowcases falling over our heads like hard hats, ceiling fans circumnavigating the neighborhood like helicopter rides, the colored crayons on the kitchen shelf thrown asunder to make slapdash hieroglyphs all over the window panes, the mysterious penmanship of the gods! My mind was preoccupied by disaster, a force majeure, an act of God, a ball of yarn, and the four horses of the Apocalypse. I wanted nothing of it: this origami suitcase lifestyle of travel and transition. I wanted to be here and now. I wanted silence, solace, and stillness. I wanted the simplest of things: a bowl of vanilla ice cream, a warm bath, and a quiet place to sit and stitch my hand-crafted cross-stitch of rainbows and sailboats framing a sexy cartoon portrait of Dionne Warwick diligently working the lines for the Psychic Friends Network from way back in the 1990s, when every solution to every problem was just a phone call away.

9.YOUR History repeats itself, defeats itself, cheats itself, berates and beats itself. I am not historic. I am histrionics. I must hate my mother and my father. I must hate myself and take up the cross and be born again. In this way, my fifth love was an immutable shadow following me with sticky tricks and schemes, a cancerous contamination of the mind that could only be cured with the deadly venom of a cone snail. I couldn’t quite shake it, the cobalt-blue memory of a ghost haunting my sophistry, a prescient reminder that the knowledge of faith and the substance of hope were right behind me this entire time (and not something to pursue, or follow, like an ornamental object on the horizon, dazzling, elusive and alive in the distant future). The Divine Inside was a “previously known encounter.” I could never see it face to face, but only feel it in my shadow, the former patterns of an aura left behind, pushing forward, pursuing, persuading, steering and navigating my memory through the valley of the shadow of death. I wanted so desperately to “have and to hold” the real substance of things (evidence!), the physical, intimate engagement with the body and the blood, which I actively sought out in transcendental activity, prayer and supplication, the sacraments, the feasts of the saints, a metaphysical substance to salivate and sublimate within the natural order of things. But this was a false pretense. God is not natural, but supernatural. The real material of divinity is ineffable, unassailable, unknowable, unutterable, and unreal. The evidence of providence is not within our line of sight, nor within our grasp, but instead beyond and behind our physical kinesphere. It is unapproachable, unspeakable, unobservable, and ultimately “erstwhile”. And yet still we continue to feel it “under our skin” and “within the universe” of our own personal history: The Past/The Passed/The Repossessed. God is our delayed consciousness – the nameless, faceless dichotomy of our secret truth. And we are made in its indistinguishable appearance. Therefore our own true “image” is without a name or a face – a baseless, shapeless cloud hovering above the waters, a countenance of empty atmosphere (signifying nothing) – a gothic apparition, a vision of love, a dance of the eternal travesty of life, a burrowing beetle of impenetrating curiosity. Digging for the true grit of life in the eternal dirt of the universe. 

10.BODY  My last love was a kind of science fiction. I was out running errands at the mall when I saw a fleet of lampshades falling like flying saucers from the sky. The alien robots came to me in an escalating beam of light and said: “We come in peace! The obverse seeks to make its face shine upon you, while the inverse hides in shame.” They did their thing with my body, prodding and poking around for some good news, but at first I would have none of it. I struggled and squirmed under nylon restraints strapped onto a stainless steel operating table. I was a basket case of curmudgeonly vitriol, pointing out everything that was wrong with the world around me: Fossil fuels. Cancer. Money. Greed. Sales Tax. Frozen Yoghurt. Religion. Varicose Veins. Junk Mail. But the alien robots were unflappable. They said, “We just need a little DNA, not a diatribe,” while swabbing the insides of my mouth with a cottony Q-tip. Then, after careful intubation and a slow drip of aesthesia, I eased into the abyss. They removed my clothes and covered my body with a marshmallowy spray foam. They swaddled me into a warm cocoon of maroon goo, where I remained in stasis to the end of the ages, slowly resuming into the soft, pillowy features of my former self – pre-natal, premature, pre-conceived – a slippery and succulent primordial membrane of soupy warmth and illuminating agency awaiting, once again, the cosmic journey laid out before me like a yellow-brick road of possibilities – the secret oblivion of love, the “unbeknownst!” Within this pinprick vision, I saw a tapestry of afterbirth in afterglow as an addendum to an immaculate after-thought of rapturous joy. I was born-again in fullness and truth. I was a peanut. I was a pretzel. I was a pan-fried shrimp. I was pandemonium personified. I was once again myself waiting to happen again and again and again and again and again … until the end.

— Sufjan Stevens

[anemoi-i]

On Venti "sleeping"... & why it doesn't make him a bad Archon, nor does it mean he doesn't listen to the prayers of Mondstadters.

After the fall of Decarabian, it is common knowledge that Barbatos departed afterwards because he did not wish to become a tyrant as he was and did not wish to actively rule over Mondstadt. He would awake during the Aristocracy and the cries of the people once again having their freedoms taken away from them by the Laurence Clan.

There are arguments such as Venti let this happen. No, Venti chose to believe in humanity and that Mondstadt would remain a free nation, and that decision [believing in humanity] betrayed him, which is far more tragic than him "letting it happen" on purpose. These arguments also carry the same rhetoric which, with what little we have to go off of, can be disproven:

Venti's sleeps are voluntary.

Venti does not listen to the prayers of Mondstadters.

& other rhetoric that falls under these two categories and/or are similar.

The nature of Barbatos' slumber and the conditions for it is unclear. What is clear is that it isn't simply Barbatos choosing to take a nap for a couple of thousands of years because he doesn't want to do his job. It is the opposite, in which he believes that allowing Mondstadters to live freely without his rule is the best option, but still influences and provides support in a way that is not oppressive. On his slumbers, though, there is nothing stopping Barbatos from staying awake and pretending to be a normal person, so why must he sleep? It has to be something along the lines of being involuntary, even if it is only partial.

Barbatos slumbered again, this time awakening when Durin attacked:

But at last, calamity came upon this land. The songs that had once flown joyfully in the wind were drowned by a venomous dragon. In the wake of its earth-shaking footsteps, even the cries and the flames were ripped asunder. The Anemo Archon heard their agony, though he had refused to rule. But to protect his old friends' dream, and defend the wind-kissed fields of green, He woke from his long slumber anew, and with the sky dragon in battle he flew... - Elegy of the End

Now, after Durin attacked, both Barbatos and Dvalin fell into a deep slumber after the grueling battle. Dvalin was tainted with Abyssal Blood that seeped into his teeth after biting into Durin's neck, and would rest at Old Mondstadt. Barbatos would attempt to cure his friend during the beginning of the main story, which is also known. However, it is important to note that Barbatos has always awoken when Mondstadt needed him most, and he does not ignore the cries of the people.

So, let's just say I am wrong and his sleep is strictly voluntary: Whether or not his sleep is revealed to be 100% voluntary in the future, there are several facts that remain evident: he is always awoken when the situation is dire (which would imply that Barbatos being awake now means that there is something else that needs the attention of the Anemo Archon, but this is strictly speculative) and that the reason he even awakens is because he has heard the cries of the people, which contradicts the main argument that he does not care or listen.

Barbatos called upon the winds of the far-flung past in the Weinlesefest event and successfully reminded Razor, Rosaria, Diluc (and Kaeya by proxy) of heartfelt memories and calls the people of Mondstadt his children. He is implied to have helped Callirhoe, a Oceanid travel to Springvale after she could not find a safe haven to live in during the Waterborne Poetry event. His first incentive was always to purge the Abyssal Corruption from Dvalin and did not (and would not have) idly sat by and let his friend be corrupted. It was Dvalin who formed a likeness for the Anemo Archon first.

Now, does that truly sound like a God that does not care, does not listen and does not hold his people dear to him? I think not.