#this has been sitting in my drafts for awhile now. but i think its time to post this bc im rly feeling it

[daisymbin]

do you hate me? (no, i don't, princess.) - choi seungcheol

warnings: mentions of alcohol (slightly intoxicated reader)

pairings: choi seungcheol x afab reader

genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst

a/n: i know i did best friends to lovers for wonwoo already but this has been sitting in my drafts for quite awhile and also, tbh this is probably one of my fav tropes hahaha enjoy!

check out my masterlist! // cheol's m.list

seungcheol's pov

''cheol-ah...do you hate me?''

''no, my love, i dont.'' i watch as a small smile flashes across her flushed cheeks. im not sure why i even responded to her at all seeing how drunk she was. she probably wont remember any of this in the morning when she wakes up anyway.

''who the hell gave her this much to drink? you guys know she can't hold her liquor well! you should have stopped her!'' i was honestly no where near as upset as i sounded. while a part of me is slightly upset, im also rather glad and relieved. glad that i can be here to take care of her and relieved because...its me who gets the privilege of taking care of her.

''im sorry hyung, i didnt expect her to drink so much and so quickly as well. soonyoung hyung and i were just getting dinner after work together but we ran into her so we went together. i swear i tried stopping her but im no match for the two of them! i couldnt even stop soonyoung hyung.'' dino said with a pout. ''i wanted to send her back home but she kept insisting that she wont leave with anyone else but you. i dont think she even recognises me right now. she kept calling me a stranger and said if i dont stop pestering her, her best friend would come fight me... i didnt have a choice hyung...'' dino looks almost terrified and its funny. i was trying so hard to fight a smile from coming out.

dino thought that i was mad at him for calling me out this late at night on my day off but truth be told, if this is what you call a disturbance then this would be the best kind. i love her. not that i would ever admit that to anyone. although, i don't think i need to. i know that the boys can tell. ''oh hyung...you're here?'' soonyoung finally spoke out. i shook my head in slight disapproval as i watch soonyoung slouch on the chair, almost losing his balance and falling over. ''chan-ah, i think you should bring soonyoung home. he's wasted.''

''i will hyung. im sorry again for calling you but you're her best friend afterall and she was asking for you.'' yeah, best friend indeed.

i watched as dino hauled soonyoung towards an incoming cab before i finally sat down beside her. ''how are you feeling?'' i asked as i gently helped her get up to walk towards my car that was parked just by the side of the road. ''just a little dizzy and fuzzy.'' i chuckled at that. fuzzy? cute.

i opened the door to the passenger seat and helped her in. i buckled her seatbelt for her and stepped back. ''where are you going?'' she looked at me with a slight sadness to it. i chuckled as i gently patted the side of her head. ''to the driver's seat, princess. we've gotta get you home somehow, dont we?'' she smiles at my response and i finally manage to close her side of the door.

''cheol-ah, can you hold my hand? it feels empty..'' her hand comes up to where mine is and held it in place before i could even answer. i could feel my heart beating so loud. how does she do it with such ease? i wonder if she knows how nervous she makes me feel. ''cheol-ah, do you hate me?'' she asked as she tried to keep her eyes open. probably fighting sleep. ''no, i dont, princess. i thought i already told you that just now.'' i said with a smile.

''i just wanted to make sure.'' she said as she let out a deep breath.

''why would i hate you?'' and this time, she closes her eyes. ''i just feel like...if you knew how i really felt about you, you would hate me.''

''i could never hate you no matter what, and besides, you know you can tell me anything, right? i'll always be by your side.'' i tried to reassure her.

''you can't say that when you dont know anything.''

''tell me then.''

''i can't cheol.''

''why not? i thought we promised each other not to keep any secrets between us?'' i immediately bit my tongue as soon as i said that; knowing full well that im keeping my biggest secret from her as well.

''but if i tell you....can you promise me not to get mad?''

''i promise.''

''theres someone i like...no no..theres someone im in love with for the past 2 years but i dont think he feels the same way..i thought it was just a stupid crush at first and that it would go away but it never did and my crush only grew bigger...i thought i would be able to handle it and pretend like it doesnt affect me but it does and i cant take it anymore.''

and there it was. that churning feeling in the pit of my stomach. my hands start to get clammy and my throat starts to feel dry. ''for 2 years?'' i start to think back to when that time period was. was it 2022? i had already been in love with her for 2 years by 2022. was i a fool to not have noticed that she had her eyes on someone else while i had mine on her?

''yeah..2 years..isnt that so pathetic?'' pathetic? i've been in love with you for 4 years..who is the pathetic one here? but instead i said ''no, its not. i've been worse.'' i am worse. i let out a deep sigh as i felt my heart slowly breaking. i felt like my heart was hard candy and a kid is just throwing me onto the ground and stomping on my heart with no regards whatsoever other than to smash this piece of candy into broken bits for the fun of it.

''come on. we're here.'' i parked the car and got out of the driver's seat and walked over to open the door of the passenger seat. ''cheol-ah...can you carry me in? my legs are not working.'' i wanted to say: of course, princess. anything for you. but i held my tongue. without saying a word, i lifted her up and closed the car door.

i punched in the code to the door, kicked my shoes off and carried her straight to her bedroom. i laid her down gently on her bed before kneeling down beside her to take her shoes off. i walked towards the bathroom to look for some cotton pads and make up remover as i returned to her bed, to her. ''come on my love, let's get your make up cleaned off hmm? otherwise you'll have a fit tomorrow about sleeping with your make up on.'' i smiled as i recalled that one time she slept in with her make up on and had the biggest fit in the morning about forgetting to take them off, screaming about how her skin will become worse and she'll turn even uglier, but she could never. it was just not possible. she is beautiful, always have been and always will be regardless of anything.

''no one takes care of me the way you do.'' she said softly against my ear as i helped her sit up to wipe her face clean. ''yet, you're still in love with some guy who i don't even know for 2 years!'' i tried to mask my sadness with some fake laughter. i hope she can't tell.

''i can't tell you...i can't tell anyone.''

''why not? is it that bad? plase don't tell me its soonyoung.''

''what? soonie? don't be crazy, he's like a brother to me.''

''then who is it?''

''mhm..can't say...''

i sighed and said ''lets get you to bed now. you're tired.'' as i get up to head to the bathroom, i felt her tug the sleeve of my jacket. forcing me to look back at her.

''can you stay here with me tonight? sleep with me.'' how could i ever say no to her? i would be the biggest idiot if i ever did. i always want to be close to her.

i let out a breath as i took my jacket off and throwing it on her work chair. ''come here, princess.'' i mindlessly held my hand out to her as i laid in bed with her. she rolled over clumsily to my side, putting her head on my chest. i wonder if she can hear the sound of my heartbeat picking up as strongly as i can feel it beating against my chest.

she took a deep inhale before she said ''you smell so good cheol, you always do.'' i smiled lightly as i pulled her in closer and tigher. nothing ever feels more right than when i have her in my arms.

''goodnight princess, sleep tight.''

''i love you.'' she said, almost too casually for my liking. telling each other we love each other isn't anything new, but how can she possibly say that to me after telling me she's been in love with someone else for the past 2 years? my heart broke again at the remembrance of that.

''goodnight, princess.'' i couldn't tell her i love her back, not when we don't love each other the same way. not when she doesn't love me the same way.

''why don't you say it back?'' she sounded hurt and it made me regret not saying it back...i never want to hurt her.

''do you hate me?'' she asked again.

''no i don't, princess. i love you.'' i said as i felt my heart sink little by little.

i carelessly start stroking her hair, hoping to put her to sleep soon. ''i love you.'' i said again.

when will i ever get the chance to tell her i love her again without having to hide my romantic feelings for her? when will i ever get to tell her i love her again without having to worry if she's finally figured me out? its so much easier to do it in the dark like this..where she can't see me, where i can hide. where i can love her proudly and openly without being afraid.

''i'm in love with you'' she said as she snuggled closer.

''let's sleep now its- wait what?'''

this time, its her turn to sigh. ''i said im in love with you, choi seungcheol.''

''you're drunk.''

''maybe..but i'm still in love with you. it doesn't change anything.''

i look down at her on my chest, but she was already looking at me. ''don't joke with me like that, princess. you know i don't take jokes well.''

''but i'm not.''

''you're not thinking clearly, princess. we've been best friends for forever, there's no way you're suddenly in love with me.''

''but its not sudden.''

i averted my eyes away from her to look back at the ceiling. i cant even look at her now. not when she's looking at me like that. not when she's looking at me like she means it, because i know it can't be.

''don't you have that guy you say you're in love with for 2 years? how would he feel if he found out that you're suddenly in love with me? how can you say it so casually? did u ever think about how i would feel? you can't just-'' and there it was. i felt my whole world stop, i felt it freeze. am i the one thats intoxicated tonight? what is happening because it can't be. that can't be her lips on mine.

she took advantage of my lips being slightly open from shock to slip her tongue in mine. and i let her. the same way she lets me run my hand through her hair, the same way she lets me kiss her back, and the same way she lets me pull her in closer by her neck to deepen the kiss.

''you're so noisy cheol.'' were not the words i expected to come out of her mouth after that kiss. ''what do you-''

''can i love you cheol? can i love you like that? can i be in love with you?''

i wanted so badly to screamYES but nothing comes out no matter how i try. i was dumbfounded. instead, all i did was let out a shakey breath.

''cheol...why are you not saying anything? are you....are you mad at me? i'm sorry i didn't mean to, i don't know what came over me im so-'' i felt her slowly removing her hands from my waist and letting go of my hand. ''no no no god im not upset i'm just.. i don't know what to say i don't know how to respond i just...'' i sighed at myself as reach out to hold her hand again.

''i'm in love with you too, i have for as long as i can remember.''

''really?''

''yes, really, princess.''

and it goes silent for awhile before i finally picked up the courage to ask ''did you..did you mean me? i mean...the guy that you were in love with. is it..is it me? because i understand if its not me and if this was a mistake-''

''yes, dummy. its you.'' this time i get to see her shy smile.

''oh...i see...cool.'' oh. oh? OH. it's me. i'm yet again rendered speechless. can i be blamed if the girl i've been in love with for the past 4 years suddenly kissed me and told me she loves me? that she's in love with me. she loves me. what am i to do or say when this all feels so surreal?

''so.....'' she starts out.

''so..?''

''do you hate me?''

''no, i don't, princess. i told you, i love you. i'm in love with you.''

i finally let myself break into a smile. it'll be over my dead body if i ever let her feel like i don't love her.

''really?''

''yes, princess, really. although, you might forget all this when you wake up tomorrow.''

''no, i won't. i'll tell you i love you again in the morning.''

''now, how about we go to bed and talk about this tomorrow over breakfast? i'll make you blueberry pancakes.'' i said as i stroked her cheek with my thumb. i pray she won't forget.

''i'd love that. goodnight cheol.''

''goodnight, princess.'' i waited a beat before i added ''i love you.'' but this time, i don't get a response. this time, i hear a light snore from her instead as i smile to myself. but for once, its okay if she doesn't tell me she loves me back because she fell asleep again. for once, my heart is not aching over questioning what her i love yous mean because for once, i know i won't have to tell her i love her just to hear her say she loves me too, because i know she will tell me that herself in the morning when she wakes up.

for once, i finally know what she truly means when she tells me she loves me. and for once, she knows what i truly mean when i tell her i love her.

[sugar-omi]

PLSSS I BEG OF U COVE HOLDEN X FEM!READER NEWLY MARRIED AND R JUST SO LOVEY DOVEY AND CANT GET ENOUGH OF EACH OTHER let me stop with the caps anyway as i was saying newly married cove and fem!reader on their honey moon to (insert place with nice oceans and views but you can take them anywhere you want) and they’re just sooo IN LOVE ITS DISGUSTING HOW IN LOVE THEY ARE you can add spice and intimacy if u want 🤷🏾❤️‼️

IM SO SORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE THIS ITS BEEN SITTING IN THE DRAFTS FOREVER.... im gonna blame it on my demon cat, its his fault he always wants to play outside i wanted a cat not a dog wtf !!!!! anyway here you go anon i loved writing this sm bc i have been thinking abt honeymoon hcs for awhile mmm<3333 also i jus wanna say cove is very much a "grabs your stomachs n prbly shakes it" man, like yk how your boyfriend is always grabbing your stomach idk at first i thought it was weird like "wtf is he grabbing your stomach n shaking it" but now i know. n cove does it ok i wont explain it but he also rubs anywhere, hes tracing your body n making shapes w his fingers on you, hes just so TOUCHY eta: I JUST REALIZED THIS LIKE 70% SMUT BUT UM.... ANYWAY 😁😁i hope you like it anyway, also added a hc's i forgot at the v bottom <3333

tags : fluff, step 4/wedding dlc, fem/afab reader (could be okay for masc/amab/nb readers as well if you ignore cove calling you 'wife' once), buff tatted cove, headcanons at the very bottom below the nsfw

+ NSFW (at the bottom), fem/afab reader, rough raw sex, creampie, missionary, v horny cove <3

perhaps i should make a part 2 with all the times n places cove fucks you during your honeymoon, mmm thats a good idea write that down write that down

synopsis : you and cove on your honeymoon to the bahamas !!

surprise to literally no one, you two pick the Bahamas for your honeymoon

it wasn't a hard pick. it was just a matter of where had the nicest views, open hotels, and safest locations, and with how cove got more starry-eyed with each solidified detail, the Bahamas was your destination.

if it wasn't for the fact that you just had an eventful wedding full of love from friends and family, plus the plane trip, cove would've dropped everything and ran for the glittering water.

once you're checked in and changed from your flight clothes into something a bit more dressy but comfortable, you and cove make your way for some much anticipated dinner.

when you're seated, the silence between you two is so easy and filled by the bustle of the restaurant.

across from you, cove is watching you with his chin hiked atop his clasped fingers, easily looking like a puppy.

"what? what're you staring at?" you laugh, taking a dip if your drink to uselessly wash away your fluster at your husband's blatant staring.

cove already has a rosy tint to his cheeks and if he was younger cove would've caught fire at being caught staring. instead he just grinned cheerily and happily, with a gaze of a man sick with love. "just admiring my wife."

you can't help but tuck your head a bit, flustered by his direct compliment. God you're in for a long marriage.

thank god, you think distantly.. a lifetime of being flustered by each other no matter how long you're together doesn't sound to bad at all.

while you're eating, you two respond to your family blowing up the "[Last] - Holden family" group chat, that was so courteously made by your snickering sister and cousin leading up to your wedding.

after a lovely dinner (only after you reassured cove that you had a few days to try out everything on the menu before the trip was over) you two took a well deserved nap together with cove tucked into your neck and your fingers in his hair. <3

okay listen... would it be bad to say you planned your wedding around your honeymoon

there's a reason!!!

i imagine you and cove (mostly cove) wanted to rent a house on the beach, or at least close to it, but i imagine its hard to snag one so once you finally got a place the wedding just fell around it

while you're in the bedroom sleeping, recovering and recharging, cove still gets up early to go play around on the beach.

not without a fight though!

when he wakes up the sky is still navy, and he flips over, feeling antsy to start the day and your activities.

but there you are, laying next to him in one of his shirts that you've stolen and your face is still scrunched up a bit from cove's movement which makes him settle down.

cove reaches to stroke your cheek, running his hand over your hair and he admires the way your face relaxes from the touch...

he feels like kicking and screaming right now, now looking at his ring(s) and remembering that you're married and you're his and he's yours and...

he's going to bawl his eyes out again.

so instead of crying and watching you until you wake up, which definitely won't be for another hour or more at least, he slowly untangles himself from you and the sheets.

it kills him a bit to do so, wanting nothing more than to be close to you every second of the day but he also wants to make you feel special today. he also can't stay in bed that long, he's too much of a busybody to do that..

so when you finally wake up, after much struggle and a lot of stretching, you drag yourself from the bed and tame your wild hair before you find your husband.

cove is leaning on the porch overlooking the beach, a random song playing lowly on the radio that you left on last night.

he whips around when you tug open the sliding door and abandons his orange juice to pull you into his arms and cove's rocking you two back n forth, kissing your jaw and cheek and he's holding your hand and compliments you.

"you look so pretty..."

"nice ring, your husband is really lucky." he says it with a smirk and you both laugh.

when he finally snaps out of his daze, totally bewitched by the warmth of the sun, view of the beach accompanied by the sound of waves and the way you lean into him had cove in a trance.

he leads you over to the kitchen where he insists you sit and watch while he makes breakfast.

in the end, you do end up spending most the day at the beach house. so when lee shoots a series of text asking about your day and if you did anything, you respond with a picture of you two buried in the blankets and a christmas hallmark movie on the TV, you laugh at her spam about how you should be enjoying the sand and waves instead of a out of season movie and respond with a meme.

the next day you spend a lot of it outside, and i even imagine you rent a boat to take out for the day or smth like that and it reminds you of when lee took you all out on a boat, but this time it was just the 2 of you

let me just say.. everyone even 5 miles away can tell you're on your honeymoon

cove is always looking at you

whether its to see how you react to a good joke

or you're telling a story and he's watching in admiration at your mannerisms while you speak

or you're at the booth ordering ice cream for the both of you

or even better, he's trying his best to capture you imagine as you walk back to him, squeezing out your slip/coverup that blew away and you laugh at him for capturing this moment instead of helping you.

"stop laughing! haha, it's not funny! *swats at him with the coverup* im taking your shirt to cover up with!"

many many pictures and videos of your honeymoon. they're mostly of you

or your shared favorite:

you're on top of cove and his eyes are closed so he doesn't notice you're recording him.

"you've gotten more tan. y'know that reminds me of when we were kids, you had such bad tan lines!" you laugh, the camera shaking.

he squints at you, squeezing your hips when he realizes you're recording him. "i did not."

"you did, i saw it. you had different tan lines from your shorts!" you tease loudly and giggle, thinking about the varying darkness of teenage-cove's tan lines because of how some of his swim shorts and pants hung lower than the other bottoms he'd wear.

cove jumps up a bit, laughing as he sputtered. "you saw that?!"

"yeah! you were the one with your v-line hanging out all the time, mister "i don't like wearing layers'!"

his look is full of love, and so is cove's hands running up and down your hips and back. but he's still smug when he says it and the wide smirk on his face makes you wanna kiss it off him.

"well you were the one looking, i didn't hear any complaints.."

you hit his shoulder, "you're so smug, you brat!", the camera shaking from your laughter.

cove is very handsy during this time

something about being married now has him seeking you out and keeping some form of contact between you

whether its holding hands, locking arms, or kissing you in public

he's always pulling you into him, wrapping a arm around your waist...

but when you're at the beach house.. well i hope you keep the curtains closed for the most part especially in the bedroom because clothes are pretty optional/limited during your honeymoon

usually cove's sex drive is pretty average, or low (i feel like at this point his drive matches yours but it's always a little lower depending on how high yours is, but thats for a different post okok)

so it surprises you how.. horny he is

he surprises himself too honestly

but he just wants to be close to you so bad!

you look so beautiful, and so happy... and now you're married and its like when he was a teenager all over again

the sun is coming through the windows, warming up your naked back.

you hum, enjoying the warmth and you feel the bed shift and now there's lips on your forehead, and cove's hand is running up and down your spine, rubbing soothingly across your shoulders.

"g'morning, y/n..." cove's gravely voice sends a shiver down your spine. "mmm, hi.." you tilt your head to the side, letting him kiss your cheek and the back of your neck.

you peak at him, still sleepy but enjoying the warmth and attention. you try to stretch your body, stretching out your legs and with how cove is leaned over you, your butt brushes against him and makes him gasp, his fingers squeezing your shoulder reflexively.

"at least let me brush my teeth..." you laugh, sitting up and after a second of looking at your clothes on the floor, you grab the robe on the chair beside you and lazily wrap it around you and shuffle to the bathroom.

cove is looking at you, you can feel his gaze and the second you disappear behind the door you hear him shuffling around before he comes behind you, dressed in nothing. cove didn't walk around naked often, only if he was walking around your bedroom finding his clothes for the day, but man was it a treat.

he wraps his arms around you, his hand rubbing your stomach and the other is wandering.

"c'mere..." you mumble, grabbing cove's toothbrush and sitting on the counter to brush his teeth for him. he lets you, and you laugh throughout the process because its a funny thing to do but you get through it and he spits in the other sink beside you before he picks you up and carries you back to bed.

on your way back to the bed, your lips find his shoulder and you add onto the array of marks already bloomed on his neck.

cove lays you down on the bed, shuffling your bodies closer to the pillows, tugging off your robe as you fumble around and throwing it somewhere. you're definitely making him clean up the room after this, but first..

you bring him in, letting your tongues tangle together and cove stretches his arm, looking for the lube and a rubber.

"ah-" cove sits up, and he looks back at you sheepishly. "there's no more.. um..."

you grin, already looking forward to cove's reaction. "that's okay. just fuck me raw, won't be the last time. right, covey?" you tangle your fingers in the sheets and get comfortable while you watch it sink in.

it isn't the first time, but fuck it always turns cove on and it makes him impossibly horny.

cove curses and he moves down, pushing your legs up and he kisses your inner thighs, sucking on the skin very close to your cunt that his cheek brushes against you and you whine, your hands finding his hair.

cove teases you a bit more, but he's teasing himself too so his mouth happily finds your cunt, grinning at the way you jump when his tongue runs over your sensitive clit.

even though cove ran a pleasurable train over you last night, your cunt sensitive but still pulsing with need.

your leg is shaking in cove's hold, his hand holding up one of your legs to give him easy access to your wet cunt but he happily lets your other leg shake on his shoulder, your foot bumping against his side and toes curling as he thrusts his tongue in and out your twitching insides.

he kept tongue-fucking you, his thumb petting your clit and he mumbled praises against your cunt as you came, your slick pooling on his tongue.

you buried your face in the pillow, always left twitching after cove sucks your soul from your body. you peak at cove spreading the lube on your sexes, lining himself up and sinking into you.

"ah fuck..."

cove looks so attractive like this, sunlight streaming in through the sheer curtains and leaned over you, shaded by the broad expanse of his torso and caged between his arms.

"cove!" your nails dig into his shoulders, your mouth falling open with a sharp moan when cove snaps his hips, burying himself inside you.

cove tucks his head into your shoulder, both of you panting and pulling each other closer even though the air between you two is balmy and hot.

"i'm gonna move..." cove kisses your jaw, tearing himself away from you to show you his flushed face. you whine when cove picks up your lower body, stuffing a pillow under you and the movement makes his tip bump your insides.

cove throws your legs over his shoulders and grips your hips in his hands, kissing your ankle that has your anklet hanging on it.

you throw your head back and moan loudly, cove starting a rough pace from the beginning.

you're so sensitive from last night, and cove abusing your insides again has tears coming to your eyes. "oh fuck! please, cove-"

you reach for him and cove offers his hand and intertwines it with yours. you don't know exactly what you're asking for, for him to be more gentle? a kiss? for cove to fuck you harder?

you just want more of him, to be closer, to be one with him...

"its okay, that's it.. good girl." cove shushes you, putting his free hand by your head to lean over you, your legs almost flush with your chest as cove practically mounts you.

something about the sharpness of cove's eyes and his flushed face makes you want to mess with him, so you bring his hand up to your mouth, wrapping your fingers around his tattooed wrist and sucking on his middle and ring finger.

cove groans, watching the way your tongue slides around his wedding band(s). "you.." cove pushes on your tongue, thrusting his hips up to bump against the spongy spot deep inside your cunt.

your eyes roll into the back of your head when cove picks up the pace again, his hips rolling back and slamming against your butt hard, making your body bounce, pushing his cock deeper against your walls.

while you're moaning and crying out so sweetly, cove squeeze's his hand between your bodies to rub your clit, the proximity of your bodies not leaving much room for anything more than tight circles against the poor sensitive nub.

"cove.." you huff, feeling your cunt gush more slick and adding to the wet, loud squelching. "cove, kiss me, please. oh fuck- oh fu-" cove's lips cut off your mindless babbles, muffling yours and his loud moans as he fucks you with shallow thrusts.

he breaks apart, panting and stealing small kisses in between his sentence. "i'm- *kiss* oh god- i'm gonna *kiss, kiss* cum.."

you whimper and hook your shaking leg around cove's back, the overstimulation makes you want to pull away but you're so close and you want cove to make you cum, and to finish with you. to finish inside you.

"cum inside!" your nails scratch down his back. "please, cum, cum inside-"

cove whines into your neck, the rhythm of his thrusts falling apart as he comes closer to finishing. he rubs faster circles on your clit, and when your fingers drag down his back as you cum, cove's hips push your body deeper into the bed as he fills your cunt with his thick cum.

he leans lifelessly over your body, panting into your neck and pressing kisses into your shoulder as he sits up to give you a kiss.

"i'll..i'll run us a bath, okay?" cove smiles dozily, stroking your hips. you blink, trying to regain your vision from your orgasm.

"and carrying me to the bath!" cove nods at that, accepting the fact he's basically rendered your legs useless for the morning. "and you're making breakfast too." you grin at him. "its punishment."

cove kisses your cheeks. "mm, trying out new methods?" cove teases.

you smack his arm and push him away, breath hitching when he pulls out.

cove watches out his cum starts to leak from your poor, twitching cunt and before he can get any bright ideas you put your foot on his shoulder and nudge him. "stop looking!" you tug the sheets over you and cove gets up with a sheepish laugh. "okay, okay!"

is very very whipped for you

does anything n everything you ask the whole trip

when he goes out and it comes up somehow, he'll tell anyone and everyone he's on his honeymoon w his lovely spouse <3

if you do any underwater activities like snorkeling or smth, you're holding hands underwater <333

yes you hold hands everywhere you go, he's so in love with you he just has to be close to you

if you're not holding hands than he's trailing very close behind you or you're at least wearing his shirt

MATCHING OUTFITS

every young person is ither inspired by your relationship or is sick of seeing you at the beach, go HOME

the old people love you and talk your ear off in the middle of the store, telling you stories of their marriages and tips on how to have a long happy marriage

when you tell them you're childhood friends/lovers though they laugh and tell you you already have it down then since you've known each other so long!

when you finally get on the plane to go home, i hope you rmbr to get some foundation or at least tell cove to wear his hair down and a t-shirt instead of a tank top because his neck and back/shoulders are Marked Up

liz and lee tease you about how glowy and refreshed you look <3

cove is very flustered if any of your friends or family see any marks or scratches

or even worse if someone asks if you had a good wedding night, etec

if you want to have kids n give birth, liz also jokes that shes too young to be a grandma for real (you sputter n tell her you and cove arent her kids n shes exaggerating!!)

[voltronisanobsession]

I know this has already been done but I want YOUR take on this…can I pretty plz get headcanons of the paladins (or just Keith Pidge and Lance) accidentally hurting their s/o bad enough to send them to the healing pods…? How would they spend their time while waiting for them to wake up? Angsty with a fluffy ending…? THANK YOU ILYSM 🥹❤️‍🔥

Paladins Accidentally Injuring Reader

STOP CUZ IM A SUCKER FOR ANGSTY STUFF LIKE THIS💀💀💀 I decided to do ALL of them cuz why not💯💯 also sorry for taking so long to answer, this was sitting in my drafts for awhile, procrastination is not fun😔🙏💔💔 another also, I didn’t proofread this yet but I promise I will💔

Keith

It all happened so quickly Keith had no idea what had happened

He remembered he was fighting one of Zarkon’s men, relentlessly attacking him with his sword when all of a sudden you came into the picture

While he was on overdrive, the Galra general had taken ahold of you when you tried attacking him from his side, swinging you in front of him

In front of Keith’s brutal attacks…

Using you as a human shield, Keith had no time to stop his sword from swinging down on you

While you did try to stop his attack with your dagger, his force was too strong, resulting in his sword slicing into your shoulder all the way down to your stomach

Keith could never forget the piercing scream you let out

Frozen is shock and horror, he was kicked backwards by the Galra, hearing his footsteps quickly fading from both of you

“Y/N!”

He is a MESS when he gets to you

His hands shake as he tries to apply pressure to your wound, but it’s just too large

His vision just zeros on your face as tears stain your cheeks. Despite whimpering in pain, you want to reassure him that you’re fine, but he doesn’t let you move an inch

By the time the rest of the group gets to him, Keith is too frantic and a bit unstable for him to think correctly

“GET AWAY!”

The group has no idea how to handle this situation as they watch him cradle your now passed-out body, his body shaking from the adrenaline of needing to protect you from anything else

“Keith, listen to me. We need to take Y/N to the castle now if we want them to survive. We can’t do that if you won’t let us help you.”

Shiro is literally the only person who can bring Keith back to earth, words hitting him like a train as he looks down at your body, watching as you take shallow breathes

Keith does not let anyone near you, not in your fragile state. He carries you all the to the castle, whispering apologies as your face twists in pain from every move

Once getting you to the pod room, he only allows Allura and Pidge in the room to help him set up your body and change you into a bodysuit

While you’re in the healing pod, he’s always sitting nearby, waiting in silence for you, hating himself for hurting you so badly

Despite you being out of commission, Voltron still needed to continue its mission

During this time, Keith pushes himself to the absolute MAX

Purposely puts himself in danger, not caring how hurt he gets because nothing can compare to what you had to go through

In a way, this is his own way of punishing himself for hurting the person he cared for

Keith won’t even listen to Shiro, brushing him off whenever the man offered to help patch him up after a more brutal mission

The team definitely gets worried when he begins straying from missions entirely, almost purposely trying to find danger at every corner

So once he finds out you’re out of the healing pod, he is extremely hesitant to see you

But he practically runs to you when Allura tells him you wanted to see him

Seeing him all bruised up upsets you once you find out what he’s been doing

He doesn’t care though, he’s immediately groveling at your feet, apologizing as his eyes slowly filled with unshed tears

“I’m sorry Y/N. I’m so sorry, I hurt you, worse than anyone else I-“

You pull him into a crushing hug, feeling him tense up but slowly relax in your embrace

“None of this was your fault, ok Keith? You may not forgive yourself but I never blamed you for anything.”

You need to comfort Keith so much because this boy almost lost the last familiar person he loved

It takes some time for him to feel secure with you again but the progress you make is enough to set him back in motion

Lots of physical contact occurs now since Keith needs to know that you’re actually with him

He is 100% more protective over you now, always keeping an eye on you when out on missions and protectively standing in front of you during battles

Lance

Lance felt like he was going to throw up

He watched as you quickly were thrown down to the ground, breath caught in his lungs as you laid there unmoving

He was trying to aim for one of the guards that was originally standing in your place, but they had moved last second once they saw him aiming at them

He had no idea that you were right behind the guard, so all he could do was watch in horror as his blast hit your chest, knocking you out in one swift moment

Oh,how he hoped it only knocked you out

Shiro had quickly ran over to your body, checking your neck for a pulse before he abruptly got up, attacking one of the sentries who was aiming at you

Lance was already running to you, sliding over and immediately clutching onto your body

His eyes watered, not able to focus on anything else except your short, shallow breaths

“LANCE YOU NEED TO TAKE THEM BACK TO THE CASTLE! QUICK, I’LL COVER YOU!”

Shiro’s voice brought him back to reality as he picked your body up bridal style and made a dash for his lion

Lance would be so worried over you once they put you in one of the healing pods

He would distance himself from the group immediately afterwards, almost running to his room to just let out the emotions

Oh god, he almost killed you

Lance would be inconsolable during all this, he wouldn’t eat any of Hunk’s food, ignore Keith’s comments that would normally set him over the end, and just not focus on Shiro’s attempts in comforting him

He would spend the days you spend in the pod wandering and moping around the halls of the castle, feeling absolutely terrible for what he did to you

He would sit quietly as your pod door opened, watching from afar as Pidge helped you from falling over

You would notice how everyone around you seemed relieve you see but the one person you really wanted to see stood by the entrance of the room

Lance would not be able to look you in the eyes

“Lance…”

Now he’s a crying mess💔💔

“Y/N! I’m-I’m sorry! If you had actually-“

He just feels awful for what he had done, accident or not

You would stumble over to him, hugging him and feeling as he clutched onto you

His sobs sound throughout the room, the group looking with remorseful eyes, seeing how much this had actually affected him

“You didn’t know Lance. No one could have known that would happen.”

Lance would not be able to leave your side for a few days afterwards

He would still be quiet, but he would slowly begin going back to his usual self

Though during the night, he would get nightmares on the event, only your sweet whisperings could lull him back to a peaceful sleep

After the near death experience, he feels much more aware of his surroundings and how he used his gun

He just cares so much for you, he doesn’t know what he would do if you got hurt like that again

Pidge

Things were going rough for the paladins during their mission, they were slowly losing control on the battle

Seeing an opportunity in front of her, Pidge noticed an electric column near her, already devising a plan

She would wrap her bayards cord around the column, making it an electric extension and have it thrown to their large enemy

It was perfect, until it wasn’t

Not getting the timing right, Pidge quickly threw her bayard to the column, watching the electricity travel through the cord and flying straight to the beast

Except you had jump in front of the beast, hoping to get a hit in, not even realizing the electric cord heading your way

All Pidge could do was yell out your name in horror

“Y/N NO!”

You quickly turned around, eyes wide when you saw what was heading towards you and unable to dodge the electrified weapon

The group could only watch with shocked faces as you screamed out in pain, watching the electricity course through your body

Being the one near a control panel, Keith slashed the entire system, hoping that would at least turn off the electricity

“TEAM FALL BACK!”

Shiro ran towards you, picking up your limp body from the ground and pushing Pidge to run out of the room and into their lions

Her hands shook with fear

She didn’t mean for this to happen. She thought she would be helping everyone. But all she could envision was your body twitching from the last of the electricity leaving your body

Tears formed in her eyes as she let out sobs, ignoring everything else around her, even the concerned words of her paladins

She would be the first one out of her lion, watching with puffy eyes as Shiro quickly took you to the healing pods, not bothering in changing you into a body suit

She would do anything Allura and him asked her to do regarding you

She would ask if there’s anything she can do

She just feels awful like this poor girl :(

Once hearing how long you’d have to stay in the healing pod, she definitely shuts down

It’s almost like she’s a robot, choosing to lock herself away in her room not wanting to see anyone

To distract herself from her guilt and remorse, she buries herself in any new and old projects

Despite clicking away at her laptop, she wouldn’t be able to stay away from you.

Sits out of your pod staring off into space

No matter how many times the group asks, she never tells them how she truly feels

No, they shouldn’t be asking her if she was ok

This was her fault. It was her fault that you had to stay in there, hopefully no longer in pain

Pidge would be the first to know that you’re out since she’s been waiting this entire time

Doesn’t speak a word to you as she helps you out and settles you on one of the stairs

Both of you would sit in silence before you decide to take her hand

“That wasn’t your fault Pidge. It was a smart idea, I was just there at the wrong time.”

Tears would down her face as she would lean her body against yours

“I’m sorry…”

Pidge would lose some confidence in herself, needing your help in building it back up

She would linger behind you now, not wanting to make the same mistakes

Would hold your hand to help her calm down, to know that you’re ok now

Give her lots of hugs man, she needs the support cuz her brain is not the best place to be when she still blames herself for hurting you :((((

Hunk

The Galra took the entire team by surprise while they were busy helping the residents of the planet they were on

Chaos fell throughout the area, the paladins rushing towards the lions to protect the innocent civilians

Despite you being sent to help shelter civilians, Hunk couldn’t help but worry over your safety

Normally you two would be hip to hip next to each other, so not having you near him really put him on edge

While attacking Galra fleets, the yellow paladin wouldn’t be conscious of the small figure running by a cliff nearby

It would be too late for Hunk to react to the rocks that were blasted by his lions beams as they came crashing down on you

His eyes widen in horror as he saw the pieces of rock fall around, watching as you held your shield up in a pathetic way of protecting yourself, only to lose sight of you when a particularly large rock fell over you

“NO!”

His panic would be through the roof as he would leave the rest of the paladins to fight off the galra

Shaky breaths from him are louder than the voices he hears from the comms of his helmet

“Hunk where are you going?!”

“Hunk we need you here now!”

“Guys I need some backup!”

This poor boy would be so overwhelmed with the others voices and trying to find you under all the rubble he unknowingly blasted on you

Yanking his helmet off and tossing it, he would instead focus on digging you out, sighing in relief once he finds you battered up, yet still breathing

Silent tears would travel his face as the yellow lion gently takes you in its mouth, making the difficult decision to leave behind his friends

He could only hope they would forgive him as he hears the panicked and furious yells coming from his helmet

Once at the castle, he would run through the halls to the healing pods, being careful to not hurt you any further

Hunk would fully blame himself

He just feels awful about the condition you’re in, babbling out what had happened as Coran propped you in a pod

“There was nothing you could have done, Hunk.” Coran’s reassuring hand on his shoulder wouldn’t help with his inner turmoil, especially once the rest of the team barges in

“Hunk! You just totally left us out there!” Lance hadn’t a clue what had happened

Overwhelmed, the team could only watch as tears and sniffles came from Hunk

After the event, Hunk would definitely be distant from the team

While the others would try to cheer him up, nothing could really bring him out of his head

The team would notice how he almost resembled a zombie during meetings and missions, on autopilot since that fateful day

In order to distract himself from his own feelings, Hunk would spend most of his free time cooking and baking

Though no matter how much dishes he cooks, everyone notices how each meal seems to be a bit off, never really tasting or looking right

He would also spend a lot of his time sitting in front of you, kinda having mini conversations with you (even though you can’t respond💔)

Hunk can’t sleep at night either since he gets waken up by his nightmares, constantly seeing your fragile body hiding underneath all the rubble in his dreams

I feel so bad for him because literally no one could have expected you to be caught in the crossfire of the battle

Shiro would try to talk to him, but his words would go in one ear and out the other, resulting in Hunk staring off into the distance with a reminiscent look im his eyes

One particular night though, his nightmare would scare him too much, not allowing him to go to sleep anymore

Rubbing his eyes in exhaustion, Hunk walks to the kitchen in the dead of night, needing to snack on something to distract himself from his pounding heart

Hearing footsteps, he would look over his shoulder from the fridge to see who else needed something to eat only to widen his eyes

“Y/N?”

Leaning on the entrance, your tired eyes met with his tired ones, and you would stumble towards him

Hunk puts down his food to quickly run over to you, helping you to a seat as his eyes shined with unshed tears

“What’s wrong Hunk? Did something happen?”

The way your hands rubbed under his eyes did not stop even when he closed his eyes, allowing his tears to finally fall

The room, lit only by the open fridge, filled with the sounds of Hunks sniffling as you drew him into a hug from your seat

“I thought that I had k-killed-“

“Hey. Don’t say that. I’m here, I’m alive, and that’s all that should matter.”

Taking a shaky breath, Hunk would pull away, bringing your hands back to his face as his head leaned into them

“I know. I’m just really, really sorry. I should have payed more attention.”

“It’s ok Hunk. If anything, I should be sorry, I shouldn’t have run into a clear danger zone.”

Hunk preps you a quick meal before taking you to bed, insisting you need as much rest as possible

He sleeps peacefully at last once he has you in his arms💔💔💔

Expect lots of hand-holding and hugs from this dude

He needs a lot of reassurance from you to remind him that you’re actually there next to him

Cooks you so much food, putting so much effort into each meals and making everything beyond your standards

(The team is definitely happy over this, now that they don’t have to eat any more space goo💀)

Would be protective of you the first few days since you’ve woken up, he’s just really paranoid of you getting injured like that again :(

Since that event, Hunk would be extremely cautious of his surroundings, making sure to avoid any more preventable injuries to those around him

Shiro

He has no idea what had happened

One minute he’s fighting alongside you against the sentries shooting at the two of you and the next he’s slammed you against a wall

He tries fighting himself from hurting you any further but the loud whisperings in his head seem to take control of his body

In that moment, you don’t recognize the man standing in front of you

Ducking and stumbling away, you quickly evade Shiro’s glowing hand, watching in horror as it goes through the wall

“SHIRO WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

His crazed eyes makes contact with yours, once again rushing towards you

In the corner of your eye you see a figure vanishing in thin air, realizing it might have been the witch Allura had told you all about

Distracted, Shiro manages to land a blow on your side causing you to grunt in pain and go tumbling towards the ground

You barely roll away before his fist meets the spot you once were at

“SHIRO PLEASE! THIS ISN’T YOU!”

You’re words don’t seem to have any affect on him as he’s up once again and heading straight towards you

As much as you hate the thought, you know you have to protect yourself from him as he’s too dangerous in the state he’s in

You’re dagger clashes against his metal arm, his strength slowly over powering you because of your injured arm

Kicking your side, Shiro’s narrowed eyes meet yours before he’s picking you up the ground

You grip his metal hand as it tightens around your neck, your breathing becoming shallow as he cuts off your airway

“Shiro… I forgive you…” You knew this wasn’t you’re Shiro, the man you knew coming out for a moment when you saw his eyes widen in surprise before going straight back to the dull black ones that stared straight through you

It was only when Lance began shooting at him out of no where did he throw you against a wall, officially knocking you out

Keith slammed his body against Shiro’s causing the two of them to crash on the ground, trying to over power the other

Then that’s when his head was finally able to clear up and stop fighting against Keith

“What’s going on? Why are we fighting?”

Everyone would stare in disbelief before quickly explaining what happened, Hunk already carrying your body towards the group, shielding you from the eyes of Shiro

He would stare in shock at the state of your body though, flashes of what might’ve happened going through his mind

Heading back to the castle, everyone would still be on edge around him

Seeing what he had done to you, this man does some serious evaluations on himself

How could he possibly hurt you, someone he cared for, this much?

Seeing the bruises forming on your neck scares him

If he did this to you, Shiro can’t imagine how far he would’ve gone if he wasn’t stopped in time

During your time in the healing pod, Shiro would distance himself from the team as he doesn’t fully trust himself enough around them, fearing he might hurt them all as well

He visits you daily, but once one of the other paladins enters the room he’s quickly excusing himself and walking away

He feels EXTREMELY guilty over what he did, going through many sleepless nights

He had almost killed you

He is harsher on the team during missions as well since he doesn’t want a repeat of what had happened with you

He is way harsher on himself too

Spends his time in the training room, tiring himself out with the gladiator, pushing his body past its limit

Still remembers what you said to him, so while you said you forgave him, I don’t think he would ever be able to forgive himself for hurting you

The team would notice the strain on them when Shiro began distancing himself from them

He was the one who put them all together so it really hurt them to see him struggle with the recent event

Once you finally awake from the pods, Shiro is the last one to greet you

You notice how he stands at a distance which causes you to narrow your eyes

“What’s wrong Shiro?”

The way you immediately notice his coldness causes his fake smile to strain

It never ceased to amaze him how you could see past him

He would explain his concerned to you once everyone decided to give you both privacy, how he was afraid of losing control again, how he had almost killed you

What had happened made him uncomfortable, knowing the power he held with his arm

You smile sadly as him reaching for his metal hand, faltering when he slightly moved it away from you

Sadness filled his eyes as he glanced to his arm before letting you take his hand

“I don’t blame you for anything Shiro. I know that wasn’t you, I know the real you. You would rather sacrifice your own life to save one of us, so please don’t be so harsh on yourself. You couldn’t control what happened.”

“Exactly. I couldn’t control what happened, I couldn’t control my own body.”

Your reunion was bittersweet to say the least

He is much more cautious around you

Keeps his distance for a few days before ultimately choosing to stay by your side

He wants to do anything to make up for your injuries

Much more softer around you and the others now that he knows you’re ok💔

Allura

“Allura what are you doing?!”

The mission the team was on was extremely crucial since, if successful, they would be able to retrieve valuable intel on Zarkons plans (ooo so original)

And it involved taking down his witch, Haggar

Allura was all for the plan and took it very serious

She believed this was one of their most important missions yet

So while it did surprise the group on how brutal the princess was in fighting her way to Haggar, no one really tried to stop her, knowing just how much it meant for them to get this information

Yet you could see the danger her aggressive behavior was dragging her in

You’d jump in front of her, trying to stop her from pushing herself too far

“Y/N what are you doing?! We must stop that witch from getting away!”

Allura was on a one track kind, take down Haggar and get any useful info from her, but you were making it extremely difficult to do so

Blinded by her own needs, she didn’t take into account of how hard she had thrown you to the ground away from her when she managed to wrap her bayard around you

Running from your injured self to Haggard, she was yanked to the ground

“Allura watch out!”

She could only watch in shock as you dashed in front of her from the ground to protect her from the blast Haggard sent

Her hands shook as she watched your body hit the ground

Haggar was getting ready to blast you both again, forcing Allura to attempt to drag you away before a searing pain filled her body, causing her to crumble down to the ground beside you

Tears filled her eyes as she watched in pain as your breathing became ragged

You both were in this situation because of her

Allura was forced to watch as the witch made her escape, the mission resulting in a failure

After getting help from the paladins and returning to the house of lions, Allura would immediately distance herself from everyone

She’s not only disappointed in herself for costing the team their mission, but she feels terrible for putting your life at such a high risk, all because she didn’t know when to stop

She would mostly lock herself up in her room while you spend your time in the healing pods

Whenever someone tried to approach her door, they would only be met with the sound of her soft sobs

When she isn’t in her room though, Allura is extremely harsh and temperamental with the others

She doesn’t know how to properly release her emotions which causes her to lash out often to those around her

She would be too afraid to visit you in the healing bay

She feels too ashamed to face you, even if you aren’t really conscious

I also think she would brush aside any concern the team may show for her, instead, trying to keep up her image as a strong leader

(Which isn’t working out, everyone can see she’s basically a ticking time bomb)

Allura pushes herself even harder now during missions and battles, which is lowkey kinda hypocritical of her since that’s what got her in that position in the first place

After briefly talking with Keith, Allura would find herself in the training deck, hoping to relieve some of her pent up emotions with the gladiator

Maxing out to the highest possible level, the princess managed to tire herself out, not having enough energy to beat the machine

Grunting in pain, she waited for the gladiator to land a hit on her before she heard the voice of the person she was dreading to see

“End training sequence!”

You would run to her and cradle her body, concern written all over your face

Despite putting you in danger and managing to hurt you in the process, you still cared for her well-being

Tears well up in the princesses eyes before she gave you a crushing hug

Feeling her body shake against yours, you gently wrap your arms around her, whispering soothing words

“I almost got you killed…”

“I’m still here, are’t I?”

Allura would definitely learn a lot through that experience

She would stop pushing herself so hard and begin relying on her team to assist her during missions

She would also linger around you more often than not

She still feels incredibly guilty for what she put you through, but doesn’t tell you (you know though💔)

I also think that she MIGHT be more open to physical affection in front of the others since she needs to confirm that you’re still alive and popping

Holding your hand is something that she does a lot now since it soothes her heart knowing you’re still with her

Expect her to be a little more protective of you though, she does not want you to be in such a critical state again

She doesn’t want to lose you too :(

[onyourowndaisymae]

unicorn bandages - alt. version

this has been sitting in my drafts awhile. someone requested some lucifer hurt/comfort (that i haven't got around to yet) and i wrote this, only to realize this didn't exactly hit the mark when i finished. but i figured it's cute, so i might as well post it

word count: 1145

content + warnings: playful/smartass lucifer, general fluff, minor physical injury, general mentions of embarrassment

you need to learn to be more careful.

that's what you think as you walk the rest of the way home to the house of lamentation, lost in your own thoughts. the gentle searing pain of your skinned knee was enough of a punishment-- did you brain have to keep replaying the memory of you tripping in the middle of town, too? being clumsy and wearing shorts were both incompatible with your plans today, yet here you are, looking foolish and feeling exposed from your mistake.

the blood had long since dried against your skin. you felt sticky and gross, yearning now for a shower and a place to hide from your lingering embarrassment. did anyone from RAD see you eat shit outside that shop. ugh, and they way nobody helped you up, how you awkwardly stumbled to your feet and-- ahhh!! please, no more!!

the familiar creak of the front doors announced your arrival to the house of lamentation. you shuffled inside awkwardly, head hung, staring at your feet to avoid another tumble. even the book you bought on your day out couldn't console you enough to block out the invisible judgement you felt.

"what is that?"

you lifted your head to find lucifer stopped in the archway to the living room, eyes narrowed at you.

"huh?"

"what is that?" he repeated. "what happened to your knee?"

"oh. i, uh, i fell on my way home and scraped my knee. i don't-- i'm fine. it's just a scrape."

you felt the urge to shy away from his stern gaze, to hide your little scrape from his prying eyes and pretend it never happened. he looks at the wound for a few moments longer before meeting your eyes.

"will you sit down on the stairs for a moment, mc?"

"it's not that big of a deal. it just need to be wiped off, nothing special."

"then surely you'd be okay with me cleaning it for you? since it's such a minor injury."

you couldn't think of much else to argue. he gave you that smug half-smirk he saved for minor victories such as this and disappeared from sight. you shuffled to the stairs and sat, slumped in defeat, as he presumably went to fetch some first aid supplies.

the avatar of pride returned as quickly as he left, this time with a small black box in his hands. a small gesture of his hands urged you to stretch the injured leg out to give him better access. gloved hands busied themselves digging through unidentified supplies.

"what happened?" he asks, quietly, as he pulls out what looks like a cotton pad and some sort of cleaning agent.

"i was... i went out to get this book satan recommended. y'know, because he always wants to talk about what he's reading." he nodded and you continued. "so i decided to grab it while i was out. apparently there's a hole in the sidewalk out front, because as i was walking out, my foot got caught and i-- ow!"

your cry of pain was almost indignant as lucifer interrupted your story by cleaning the wound. the sharp sting of something akin to but not quite isopropyl alcohol lit your knee on fire. had the scrape really been that bad?

"the bacteria in the devildom is a bit more aggressive than in the human realm," he explained, softer look on his face than a moment ago. "we wouldn't want our favorite human getting sick from an accident like this, would we?"

as if he was trying to apologize, lucifer brought your knee closer by the back of your leg and gently blew on the wound to alleviate some of the pain of the cleanser currently working its magic. it was nice. for a moment, he was lucifer, big brother, not the avatar of pride he embodied in public. his fingers fiddled with pulling and stretching your skin to ensure each inch was properly wiped clean. there was a certain level of sincerity to his movements that made you smile.

"did you do this a lot when your brothers were growing up?"

"you have no idea."

that makes you laugh. he smiles, just a little, before continuing.

"angels are supposed to be resilient. their skin is thicker than a human being's, so they shouldn't get hurt as easily. and yet training my younger brothers was-- well, it was quite the event."

"i'm gonna guess mammon was the biggest pain?"

"definitely mammon." a fond smile. he wiped a cotton pad across your busted knee before continuing. "every time i saw him, he was always covered in bruises and scrapes. i could never quite get him to admit that he'd got them wandering off in pursuit of his younger brothers."

"that sounds a lot like him."

lucifer picked up a small tin containing the bandages. these must have been picked out by asmodeus-- instead of the usual plain design lucifer always grabbed, these were bright and colorful with unicorn designs. the avatar of pride only offered a small sigh before pulling an adequately sized one out and applying for you. in a few moments, what was a terribly embarrassing memory had been sealed from the world behind two unicorns hopping in unison over a rainbow.

"aren't you going to kiss it better?"

your sarcastic question was followed by your mischievous little smirk. maybe you shouldn't have teased him while he was in such a good mood. his eyes narrowed a bit before, to your surprise, his smirk mirrored your own.

you open your mouth to play off your joke, but lucifer's already lifting your knee to his mouth. your whole body is sliding uncomfortably off the stair step-- karma sure is efficient-- as his lips hover above your knee. lucifer's lips brush the top of your bandage. he makes an obnoxious kissing sound to honor your request before unceremoniously dropping your leg, leaving you sprawled in an odd position on the steps.

"i was kidding," you whine.

"my apologies. i just wanted to make sure you healed correctly."

"yeah, yeah, whatever you say."

the avatar of pride is quick to repack the first aid kit and rise to his feet. you reach out for his hand to help you up. in a bout of playfulness, he instead high fives your open palm, small smirk dripping with sarcasm. of course you had to catch him in a good mood. you sigh dramatically. this time, his offer to help you stand was genuine. a quick tug of your hand and lucifer had quickly pulled your fragile human body off the steps.

"careful, mc. wouldn't want you to fall again."

"i think you'd enjoy it, actually. sadist."

"... you're probably right."

"huh?!"

your cry is indignant as he begins to exit. you chase after him without hesitation. that smirk on his face meant he was joking, right?

[xaeoism]

HIS SWEETEST ANGEL (Armin Arlert x fem! angel reader)

CONTENT WARNING - lots of pet names (love, sweet.. etc.), orgasm denial, implied creampie, a little praising

A/N - This is my first smut fic and it has been marinating in my drafts for the last month.. + This was made to celebrate the end of Attack On Titan!

It was hard for Armin to restrain himself from the beginning, I mean, his lover was a literal angel. God, how did he even manage to win a grand prize such as yourself? Ever since you came into his life, he made sure to pray to the heavens daily, thanking them for sending you his way.

Today was no different, you looked stunning, he thinks wholeheartedly as you stroll out of your shared room in nothing but a short, seemingly translucent, white nightgown. Your wings were showing through the thin fabric, but they were closed, pressed up against your back. You yawned, arms stretching up towards to ceiling to relieve your aching muscles after your nap. Opening your eyes, you strolled up towards Armin to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"I only just got up and you're staring already, love?", you questioned with a lighthearted laugh. Armin grabs ahold of your hand and presses a kiss on the back of it before smiling back at you. "Can't help it, you're just so mesmerizing."

Your eyes widen a little at his compliment. Although he showers you in a constant stream of compliments everyday, you seemed to never be able to get used to it. No one had ever shown you such unwavering amounts of love and admiration in all your years.

"Always you and those incredibly poetic statements of yours, Arlert.", you mutter under your breath while looking away from him to hide the small blush forming on your face. He looks at you and tries to stifle the small laugh he wants to let out at your embarrassed expression. "Please let me love on you, sweetheart. Please don't shy away from me.", he says as he pulls you to him so that you're now sitting on his lap whilst facing him.

He intertwines his hand with yours and his lips meets the skin on your neck. He gently presses his lips on your skin before moving onto another location to do the same. You shut your eyes, your other hand creeping up the back of his neck to push him further into yourself - to make him deepen his attack on your neck. He digs into the meal you allow him to have, occasionally sucking on your soft skin to create some love marks, the pleasure going straight down to your core and making you moan at the same time.

Armin's breath hitches when you start to writhe above him from the pleasure. "W-Wait stop-", he chokes out, his hands flying up to hold your waist to restrict your movements. You slowly open your eyes to meet a flushed Armin. "If you keep that up, I'll..", he tries to reason but his voice trails off when your hand ghosts above the obvious tent on his pants. You give him a small smile before pressing down on the bulge, causing him to wince and buck up into your hand.

"Please- please don't do that."

"Alright. I'll stop then.", you say before proceeding to get off his lap. He tightens the hold on your waist, not allowing you to leave the position you were in. "Hm? What's wrong, 'min? Didn't you ask me to stop?", you ask mockingly.

"You know that wasn't what I meant..", he replied slowly. You hum at his words before your hands go back down to the waistband of his pants to tug it down, revealing his throbbing erection. You waste no time, your hand expertly wrapping around it and moving up and down from its base. Armin's hold on your waist goes slack and he closes his eyes from the pleasure of your slow strokes.

After awhile, he starts to move on his own, desperately chasing after his own high. "Mn- m' close-!", he says. However, just as he was about to move once more, you took your hand off, stripping him of the high he so wanted. You flash him an innocent smile when he opens his eyes to look at you in a puzzled manner.

"Why'd you stop?", he asks between pants.

"I just felt bored, sorry love", you reply nonchalantly.

Armin looks at you as if you were joking but when you continue to smile innocently he starts to beg. "Please, please baby, need it so badly."

His pleas fall on deaf ears, though, for you just turn away from him to take in the sight of the night sky from the window. Well, since talking it out with you wasn't working, he supposed that he'll just have to take things into his own hands.

One of his hands goes down to grip onto the end of your nightgown to pull it up while the other works on peeling your undergarment off you. Once your undergarment was off, Armin immediately stuffed two of his fingers into you, causing you to gasp at the sudden intrusion. His fingers kept up the assault, their speed and your moans gradually increasing in tandem. He knew exactly where to prod, the area that made your eyes roll back from just how good it felt. Soon enough, you were at the crest of your wave of pleasure.

"Armin, 'min, there-! Right there!"

"Yeah, sweetheart? You close?", he says in a honeyed tone.

You nodded furiously while you continued to pathetically get off from just two of his fingers. He pulls off your nightgown and starts to caress your wings. You arch your back into him, the feeling of his fingers constantly massaging the spot that drives you crazy, paired with the slow loving strokes he gives your wings was becoming too much for you. It brought tears to your eyes. Your moans get higher in pitch as your climax draws near. Suddenly, your climax dissipated. You crack open your eyes to see Armin looking and playing around with your arousal that lingered on his two fingers.

"Armin, why..", you whined.

"Sorry angel, wanted you to feel how I felt when you stripped me of my euphoria. But don't worry, I'll make it up to you next time", he says as he gives you an apologetic kiss.

He rolls his hips up against your core and you moan from the friction. You watch Armin for a second before your hand goes to cup his face to pull him into a deep kiss. He meets you halfway, his tongue delving into the cavern of your mouth to explore every part of it. You lift yourself up to try to descend onto his shaft but just as his tip passes through your entrance, he grips onto your hips to stop you. "Please 'min, let me put it in.. need you so badly", you whisper against his lips.

"That's dirty. How can I refuse my sweet angel since you asked so nicely.", he sighs.

He thrusts up while pulling your hips down at the same time, completely sheathing himself inside your dripping wet cunt in one go. A scream tears out from your throat from the sudden stretch and Armin silences you with a kiss. "Love, unless you desire for others to hear what we are currently doing, I believe that you should try to keep your volume down a little, hm?", he recommends. Your walls tighten at his words and he groans, the thought of your neighbours listening on to both your sinful actions causing you to get even more turned on. "You'd like that wouldn't you? Seeing as how you got tighter just from those words.. you dirty, dirty angel.", he smirks as he lifts you up, leaving only the tip in before pushing you down onto him once more.

Armin continues his relentless abuse on your poor hole, wet squelching noises echoing throughout the enclosed living room. Every time he lifts you up and pushes you back in, you feel him get even deeper within you. Suddenly, you feel a familiar rush of ecstasy quickly approaching, and you grasp onto him, digging your nails into his back and dragging them across his skin which earned you a heavy groan from him.

" 'min baby, need to-", you start but he hushes you.

"Shh.. You need your release, sweet? Don't worry, I won't take it away this time."

One of his hands travels down south, and his thumb goes on to circle your clit, drawing circles around your sensitive nub, causing you to scream as your high comes crashing down on you.

He groans at the way your tight walls spasm around his cock, practically sucking him in whenever he tries to pull out. "Did I make you feel good baby?" He waits for an answer, but you were too dazed from your release to come up with one so you opted to nod. His cock throbs in excitement when he sees your acknowledgement.

Both his hands go back up to stroke your wings, to hear your angelical moans when he brushes past the sensitive parts of it. "Angel, can I use your body now?", Armin asks. Your eyes fly open to look into his own and you watch him wait for your consent. You pull him in for a deep kiss before whispering against his lips, "My entire being belongs to you, Armin."

He changes your position almost immediately. Before your head can even comprehend what had happened, you're now on your hands and knees with him at the back. Armin pushes himself into you and you let out a sharp gasp when you feel his cock go deeper into you than before. He draws out of you, and you try to catch your breath but when he shoves himself back in, all that leaves your throat is a piercing scream as you throw your head back.

Just when you thought that he couldn't possibly go any deeper, he grabs ahold of your wings for support and forces more of himself in. Oh god, you thought, as he keeps up his ruthless pace that has you seeing stars. Tears start to form in the corner of your eyes, although, you were unsure if it was due to the pain or pleasure of having Armin tug on your delicate wings and be that far in you.

You cried out loud whenever his tip touched your cervix, almost threatening to pierce through it. "S-Slow down-!", you struggle to get out but he was too far gone, trying to attain the high he had been longing for as fast as possible.

You arch your back when his nails dig into your soft feathers. "That hurts, 'min it hurts-!", you shout as the pain shoots up your body. "Ah- Sorry, sorry!", he apologises as he peppers kisses onto the areas that he injured, his frenzied thrusts slowing down.

Although his pace has reduced, his now slow and deep thrusts allowed you to feel every single inch of his cock, causing your mind to melt and your eyes to roll back. You feel your abdomen contract, the need to cum arising rapidly. You could tell that Armin was near his release as well, from the way his movements began to feel sloppy and uncoordinated.

One of his hands travelled down your body, resting against the bulge under your womb caused by his dick. "Does it feel good, lovely? Are you close already?", he asks as he puts a little pressure on the area and you swear that you might have just come if not for the little self restraint that you miraculously had left within your being.

"Yes," you moan. "Yes- yes, yes. So good, you're making me feel so good, Armin.".

Armin's dick throbs once more, if you call out his name in that tone again he'll actually cum.

Desperate to get you to your euphoria once more, he presses down on the bulge, hard. You let out a silent scream, the corners of your vision turning white as you cum around his cock. Your walls flutter around his length, and he buries himself deep in you, letting his warm seed fill you up. The feeling of his warmth coating your insides sends a shiver running down your spine.

Your limbs lose their feelings and you fall onto the soft couch, feeling exhaustion take over you. Armin gently pulls out of you and takes some time to admire the sight of his semen slowly dripping out of your hole.

"You truly are a blessing, my sweet, sweet angel.", he whispers as he presses a kiss on your forehead.

[margarine-archives]

Could I possibly request a Capsaicin Cookie x female reader dating headcanons for when ur requests are open again? (First time requesting, hope I didn’t say anything bad/wrong 😭😭) ty!!

General Dating HCs with: Capsaicin Cookie !

note: hello ! I feel as if this request was such perfect timing (my little capsaicin draft has been sitting for awhile !) with that, I'm afraid this doesn't mention a feminine reader due to the fact this was made weeks prior, so I apologize for that ! I hope you may still enjoy this !

I apologize for my abrupt hiatus aswell, I have been hyperfixated on other things (the owl house !) but now I have returned ! I am planning on a fluff alphabet for a certain cookie ! ~

- upon realization before your relationship, capsaicin is hesitant, both in admitting his admiration for you and the possibility of commiting to a relationship. He's afraid of you fearing him overtime, or even after knowing about his affections for you

- harming you is the last thing he wants to happen, even if his entire reason for liking you is because you embraced him, embraced every bit of flaw he had despite the dangers he may cause, erupt, despite having the power to turn you to burnt crumbs, it was like you didn't care about such risks.. He's concerned, yet at the same time, his sweet, crumbled heart felt like melting lava !

- you made him feel free from the confinements of invisible shackles, to feel lighter despite the huge mountain of insecurities that weighed him down, you made him feel like .. well, him !

- he wanted to grow closer to you, to embrace you aswell ! but alongside, he wanted to distance himself as far away from you as possible. He sees you as a cookie too fragile, who might crumble the moment he touches you !

- this may take months- even years ! unless you are aware of his lingering emotions, then please do talk him out of this phase ! You don't know how much he yearns for your touch, but simply cannot because of his dying heat ( you may or may not have asked prune juice cookie for a fire resistance potion ! )

- upon the course of dating, capsaicin is a very clingy man, both in public and in private. Nearly his entire life without any form of physical cookie contact took a huge toll on him ! He is, without his knowledge, a very touch starved man. Though if you address your concerns about PDA then he will stop immediately ( a bit sulky about it but he gets over it overtime ! )

- public affection aside, he can get quite possessive aswell, not from ill intentions or anything ! Capsaicin has an extremely low self esteem, any cookie he sees interacting with you ( especially if its a suitor of yours ) automatically makes him think that the cookie is more deserving of you than he ever will

- if you do dislike PDA, then he is more eager to staying indoors rather than being outside ( that's quite the surprise ! ). It's like his firing heart might die out if he goes on a day without holding your hand ! Must you talk so long with a friend of yours ? he already misses your sweet touch !

- your suitors could treat you way better than he can, they would let you live a love life without any form of danger - you're safer with any other cookie other than capsaicin ! yet you decided to choose him.

- he constantly ponders if he even has the qualities of being a good partner, often questioning the things he does for you. He wonders if his efforts lack more .. effort, that maybe your suitors can truly be a better partner than him, a dangerous cookie since his youngest days. He doesn't want you to have to risk being in danger because of him !

- capsaicin refuses to listen to any other reassurances if its not from you, but he also dislikes speaking up about it, he doesn't want any cookie to feel the pressure of having to reassure him, even if cookies like kouign-amann wouldn't mind such things

- the good thing is that it's noticeable whenever he does feel upset about something, and whether it's about insecurities or his own trauma, please do comfort him ! give him physical affection and lots of praise ! he'll think that he doesn't deserve such words but it does feel nice to hear someone say that to him, especially you !

- capsaicin cookie dislikes being restrained, it doesn't matter what place ! so your dates are very frequent, if not everyday. He simply likes roaming around earthbread, hands swaying back and forth as he rambles endlessly about his friends' antics !

- alongside this, I have a strong feeling that he over prepares before he goes out on your date. He has to make sure he is prepared for anything and everything ! But for some reason he somehow forgets an item or two, one time you both went on a picnic date and he forgot the flowers !

- loves holding hands with you ! Whether it be for comfort, to ground his inner self, or to show small affections for you, playing with your fingers or massaging your palms

- likes showing off his strength to you ! In public and in private. He feels that it is a must - do requirement to prove himself to you ! To show off that you are dating a strong cookie, a cookie that has a burning passion for you !

- below the surface of hot lava, he can be very soft spoken with you, he feels so much trust and comfort in you to the point that it doesn't feel like a constant requirement to appear strong and mighty, because any other cookie, strong or weak, can have their opposite moments too !

- despite the mindset he has of needing to prove himself useful to you, capsaicin cookie is now aware that this isn't how healthy relationships work, and that you simply wont leave him for even the slightest bit of weakness shown. He is learning to love himself just as much as he loves you !

[blazichu]

This has been kicking around in my drafts for awhile. I didn't really know what to make of it then, and I don't now, but I want to start cleaning some stuff up, so here it is:

Remember a snippet of a weird dream, which is already odd, because I usually forget my dreams immediately upon waking up.

The setup doesn't matter too much, but I know my brother (younger than he is now, for some reason) was being an asshole to a Gligar he caught in one of his games, and I decided I was stealing it. Proceeded to steal it and then... I guess trade it to myself, but it was framed as being an outdated Pokemon Transfer thing, albeit in its own building, kind of like the old GTS buildings. I traded it to myself and was poking around for some reason, going in doors that were there, until muttering out loud that I should stop and "go home".

At that point, a scene triggered as I tried to go through a different door that, for some reason, caused 3 characters to run out of the door-- clearly in conflict with each other-- and then hurry back through the door, which couldn't be opened after the fact. Each of these characters had Ingo's sprite, but in dream, I could tell that at least 2 were more worn than his actual BW sprite. I can't remember a lick of what was said, and I actually remember that in the 'moment' in my dream, I wasn't able to understand/remember what was being said, only that there was some kind of conflict ongoing. That was weird, because there were definitely text boxes involved, since I distinctly remember seeing a character tag to denote that someone was talking: the mispelled "Ingou".

For some reason, the dream switched to a more first person perspective in that universe, in the supposed PokeTransfer building. There was someone else with me then, trying to recreate what happened, and I kept opening doors and muttering that I had to go home, then. There were phones next to each of the doors, which I don't think was relevant, but I noticed at the time. Eventually, I got something to happen again, but it was just someone talking, and I knew it was the same character. It was some kind of warning/recounting of something that happened before, implied to be an attack from Pokemon against humans, at least some of them children, which was fatal. This wasn't directed at me, by the way-- it was like it was being said to someone else nearby. The person specifically highlighted Alakazam, Magnemite and Magneton, but in plural, implying that multiple members of each species had something to do with it. The only other thing I could make out for sure (because this was a lot clearer, but still hard to understand) was something about a Holiday Island, and then somehow my brain emphasizing that the spelling on "Ingou" was wrong for a second time, even though there was no text box that time.

The person I was with saw that, and after we were done there, we went to look for any clue on what was clearly Bulbapedia, but was never identified as such. I don't know what article we landed on, but we found a reference to "Ingou" leading to an article on Holiday Island. I should note that, as I mentioned, the game Gligar was in, and the version of Poke Transfer were both outdated. They should have been even older based on this being a physical location and the sprite art, but my dream told me they were about Ultra Moon era, and the unknown article cited that this event had been accessible since about 2018/2019. In the "real world" after all of that, I was holding a case that was like... it had the vibes of Ultra Moon but was more blue, if that makes any sense? I was sitting with a bunch of people, implying that I had been playing my game while hanging out there, and found a leaflet in the game case-- as used to be standard-- for a downloadable legendary Pokemon. My brother started walking in right after that, and I stopped reading so I could hide the game/the fact that I committed Bat Theft.

I don't have anything to add from there on; my dream changed right after that, and I can't remember what it turned into.

[zarovich]

i think it's funny how someone will leave my life and i'll be like "oh god oh fuck how am i gonna live without them i want to die" but then like a week later i'm just chilling like "huh actually i'm happier now, glad they're gone lol"

[oujibaka]

[thoma-daily]

im gently picking up ayaitto in my hands. holding them. i rlly need to do more research on them orz

this has been sitting in my drafts for awhile so i suppose ill post em now!

ayaitto prerelationship headcanon time!

ayato knows of itto before they meet, of course--he thought he was strange, but harmless.

he's completely caught off-guard though when itto calls him over to watch an onikabuto match between him and a kid; no reservations whatsoever.

for only a minute, ayato thinks that itto may be trying to get his foot in the door to grander things... and is immediately proven wrong when he doesn't bring up his title at all, and simply doesn't know that ayato is the yashiro commissioner

ayato again... just completely thrown off, but in the most delightful way possible in his eyes.

being able to relax like he's a kid again, after having to manage the commission from such a young age, is a breath of fresh air

and its even more interesting to him that although he has a tendency to not appear for months at a time, itto still thinks of them as close friends

so he keeps in touch with itto when possible, albeit usually by having thoma hand things off to him; smaller things that he doesn't care much for but knows itto would appreciate, like special drinks and snacks or a new set of cards. small tokens of appreciation

ayato also has a tendency to suggest odd jobs from the yashiro commission when itto needs money, just so that he can see him a bit more. (itto does not still realize that he's the yashiro commissioner.)

ayato is affectionate from afar; he already knows that itto wouldn't give up the gang or anything for him, so he doesn't bother asking. he simply gives small things to itto and resolves some of the problems the arataki gang gets into some of the time. (not all of them of course! it builds character to have to figure things out... and also it's amusing.)

on itto's end... god this man is so fucking clueless. love him

itto thinks of ayato as just a total bro, always sending little gifts and helping out, albeit indirectly. and he's so well spoken! itto takes some notes from him, and offers him a place in the gang, which ayato declines

shinobu knows who ayato is. the whole gang knows who ayato is. shinobu has tried to tell him and itto just scratched his head and went "well maybe it's a different ayato?"

shinobu does keep an eye on ayato though, she does NOT trust him at all.

itto tries to reciprocate all the little things that ayato sends him--usually little diy art things, that admittedly are really bad. ayato has a collection of them and they're very precious to him

[taro-im]

the things they would do for you when they’re in love

featuring: Sakusa

Sakusa: it was 5 in the morning , the both of you were sound asleep Sakusa woke up giving you a little kiss on the forehead admiring your peaceful sleeping face, the raven haired male decided to let you sleep for awhile because it was the weekend, he got up from the bed only seeing red blood on the bedsheets… he felt guilty for waking you up but he did “h-hey love please wake up I gotta change the bedsheets” he said gently shaking you so you could wake up “baby it’s too early” you muttered half awake giving a little groan seeing a awkward Sakusa kneeling before you “b-but I gotta change the sheets” he muttered playing with a strand of your hair only for you to notice a wet uncomfortable feeling around your pelvic area knowing what’s going on… you bolted up seeing blood under you ruining the white bedsheets… “I’m so sorry Kiyoomi” you said in the verge of tears feeling guilty because these were his favorite bedsheets, “shh you didn’t do anything wrong my love, get up I’ll run you a bath” he whispered giving your hand a little squeeze making you go the the bathroom, you felt a pang of guilt in your chest you knew how much he really liked those bed sheets and how clean he always kept them and you ruined them… you finished your bath while Sakusa was putting away the bloodstained sheets to wash, you awkwardly went to the living room sitting on the couch face down “y/n how could u be such a idiot” u muttered with so much embarassment, you’ve been dating for a year but was too afraid to do anything u think he would consider gross or disgusting and you finally did what if he got Icked out by you? What if he stopped seeing you, you jumped to conclusions and ended up secretly crying not knowing Sakusa was out the bathroom door, “baby here take some ibuprofen, do u want me to make u hot cocoa while I’m in the kitchen” the raven haired male said but eyes bolted hearing your quiet sniffles “hey shhh my love what’s wrong” he said speed walking to you on his knees holding your face wiping away your trickling tears, “I’m so sorry for the sheets kiyoomi” you said avoiding eye contact, “sorry for what? Y/n you didn’t nothing wrong, it was just an accident I would be a mad man if I got angry over that why would u think like that my love” he said holding your face with a small frown wondering why you would think like that” baby I’m sorry I know you hate messy gross things and that was blood, last time your cousin had a bloody nose and it got on your couch you got so angry at him” you said calming down “baby he’s my cousin your my wife- I mean girlfriend when it comes to you I don’t care what I have to do and nothing you’ll do will ever make me feel that way because your my everything, look at me y/n, those sheets vs you, your more important than some bedsheets I could buy I don’t know why I would even compare you to that, nothing compares to you baby” he said with his gentle soothing smile which made your heart melt, you’ve fallen so hard for this boy but can you even fall even harder? He kissed your forehead caressing your face “since I’ve been with you I’ve learned many new things and new experianced and my love I can’t wait to go through new things with you, you have changed me to a better person now let me get your medicine” he said giving you one more kiss.

THIS WAS A DRAFT I MADE WHEN I WAS FIFTEEN IT HAS BEEN TWO YEARS AND I HAVE FINSIHED IT ITS KINDA RUSTY BUT OH MY GOD THIS IS MY FIRST WORK UPLOADED AINCE I WAA 15

[lyjikyu]

       𝗡𝗘𝗪 𝗡𝗘𝗫𝗧 𝗗𝗢𝗢𝗥 𝗡𝗘𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗕𝗢𝗥 ★ ヨシ

✧.. grammar and spelling errors! | repetitive words! | strangers to friends, non-idol!au, yoshi x reader | title says: new next door neighbor. | word count: 500+| lowercase intended | this has been on my drafts for too long |

Its a hot noon at yoshi's apartment and he had just gotten home from taking his cat to the vet for a monthly checkup. turning on the ac and opening the curtains, yoshi stretches before sitting down on the couch where his feline friend is found asleep. he smiles watching it as he turns the tv on.

about what seems like 11 minutes later, yoshi hears a knock on the door. puzzled, he stands up and walks to towards it. yoshi opens it slightly—afraid that it might be some bad person and peeks at the small gap. “hey uhm, I'm sorry to bother you but...could you maybe please help me move some boxes inside my apartment?” you smile, gulping at the sudden silence as you and yoshi continue to stare at each other.

“uh..yeah sure!” he nods his head—a slight smile plastered on his face.

well this was new.

yoshi steps out of his apartment and closes the door behind him. he timidly follows you behind, as you lead him to the pile of boxes infront of your open door. “oh uh, my name is y/n! thought maybe I should Introduce myself to you.” you extend your hand out to him for a quick handshake and he accepts it—feeling quite bashful.

this was his first time interacting with someone who wasn't the old sweet lady upstairs who loved his cat very much, and would always give it treats every morning. so he was feeling anxious.

as the both of you finish moving the boxes to the inside of your apartment. yoshi sits down on your couch as he takes a look around. awhile ago, you were telling him about how you didn't like your past apartment and how you had a room mate—who barely came home. you had loads of stories to tell and yoshi listened to each one of them very intently. he thought you were a very great person to be around and that he could listen to you chat all day.

“y/n” yoshi stands up as he sees you enter the living room. you hum in response while smiling at him. “I think I have to leave now, but if you need any help or a companion, you can just knock on my door.” he says—smiling back at you. and as you walk him back to the front door, you remember something.

“oh wait! I think I haven't gotten your name yet! i've been spending all this time talking, I can't believe I didn't ask for your name yet.”

“oh right! Its okay, I totally forgot aswell. I'm yoshinori, but you could call me yoshi.” you apologize to him and yoshi chuckles telling you that he understood before he says goodbye and leaves your apartment.

opening his front door and closing it after, yoshi rushes to his couch and face plants himself on one of the pillows. his interaction with you felt so unreal, that he starts slapping himself. but yoshi starts to smile after, as he also continues to hug the pillow in his arms, tightly.

“megumi you're awake!” he watches as his cat jumps up to the couch and moves the pillow he was holding on his left, letting megumi lay on his lap.

“I wonder if y/n likes cats. I mean you're pretty cool megumi, don't you think?” the cat continues to stare at yoshi and lets out a meow before looking away.

"well I guess y/n doesn't have a choice."

TREASURE MASTERLIST

[jujutsubabe]

“That’s such a Capricorn thing to say”

Megumi x reader

Word count: 1.1k

A/n: this is old and has been in my drafts for a month😭 it’s time to post it.

Megumi glared your way as you smugly stared back, you were teasing him... right?

You had been telling him this for days, almost a week now of you going on your astrology binge and commenting on anything anyone did as a very “horoscope” thing to do.

If only he didn’t answer you when you asked “hey what time were you born? I want to find your birth chart.”

He didn’t know answering that question would lead to where he was now. If only he kept his mouth shut instead of telling you, every day made him regret that choice.

He’d twist his head before shaking it, better not to ask.

If he slipped his hand out of yours in public?

If he slipped his hand out of yours in public?

“Ah right, Capricorn’s aren’t too into PDA.”

He furrowed his brows, about to say something before giving up and rolling his eyes.

If you caught him organizing his desk?

“Ah, cleaning and organizing in your free time? Very Capricorn like.”

He twisted his face. What does that even mean??

What’s worse was you didn’t just stop with him. Every conversation with anyone else was like this, it only got worse when you brought horoscopes up with Gojo.

It was as if the two of you only talked about horoscopes, every conversation he happened to walk into were when you and him discussed star signs.

This all led to now, you were rambling on and on about how important it was to know the planet signs, with Gojo adding onto the conversation with hums and more information.

“But that’s why I think Nobora, Itadori and you are so similar, you’re all fire signs so you’re like different fonts of the same person. With Megumi being an earth sign he’s the calm that holds the group to ground level, I think its such a fiery balanced group that...” you continued to ramble on and on.

Megumi couldn’t help but twitch. You talked about this. Daily. “Is that all you can talk about...?”

You clicked your tongue, “That’s such a Capricorn thing to say...”

Gojo nodded, “I can’t believe how accurate it is!”

Megumi considered switching schools that day.

That was until a shift occurred. A subtle change he happened to notice when the two of you were in his room.

The normal, laying on his bed and cuddling or scrolling through your phone turned into you… randomly tidying up his room. Like making his bed or color coordinating his clothes as you hung them up, something that softened him up.

It was so odd but domestic. You would pop in at times with homemade foods, and he was such a sucker for anything homemade, when you brought him a plate for dinner, his heart did a little tumble roll.

The two of you were sitting on his bed as you ate, with you glancing up at him to see his bright expression every time he took a bite.

He wiped his mouth, “I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Of course I can cook.” You recalled the way your past meals blew up in flames out of nowhere, making you reconsider your words. “I mean I mess up sometimes… but still.”

“I didn’t expect you to be so nice this week.”

“You’re welcome?” You cocked your head, how exactly do you respond to that.

His eyes followed you as you got up to take the empty plates away, “Did you want me to pay you back?”

“For what?”

“For helping me. Is there an ulterior motive...”

“Really?” You held a flat look on our face, “I like helping you every once and awhile. Since you do so much for me already.”

“Oh.”

You caught him off guard with that one. He could feel his face heat up and desperately hoped he wasn’t blushing.

“I didn’t know.” His eyes dipped down as he scratched his neck, he felt. So. Soft. Mushy. Having someone care for him this way wasn’t common. “Did you want to lay with me?”

You grinned, placing the dishes on his desk, you could deal with that later.

He adjusted his legs as you hopped between his legs, letting him bear hug you from behind and rest his chin on your shoulder.

He always managed to sucker punch the air out of you when he held you this close, his light breathing down your neck sent too many butterflies for you to catch.

“I love you.” He mumbled into the crook of your neck, placing the lightest paper light kiss onto it.

Your eyelashes fluttered shut, a content hum leaving your throat. How does anyone keep their composure in this situation?

There was a silence as he held you so close, like a question was to be posed.

“But…” he looked at the side of your face, “does any of this have to do with horoscopes…?”

You paused. “How… how did you know?”

He pursed his lips as you laughed. “It was too specific,” he knew there was something fishy going on. You turned him into an experiment, a very romantic way of turning your boyfriend into a test dummy. “Was it a love language?”

“Yes, acts of service,” you pulled out your phone, scrolling through hundreds of tabs relating to ‘how to make your Capricorn boyfriend happy.’ “I wanted to see if it worked.”

He smiled as you began to close them out, then you turned to him, “I mean did it work?”

Duh. He rolled his eyes, not even responding to your question. This man was whipped for you, and he wasn’t going to lie… you putting in that much to make him happy just bursted a confetti of butterflies in him.

He squeezed you closer, burying his head into your shoulder. To be loved this much, to have someone do anything to make him happy, it was a gentle feeling that washed over him.

“Yes.”

Of course it worked. Whatever you did always made him happy.

Extra:

“People get it mixed up a lot but your moon sign is how you are in your inner world! Not the sun sign, it’s the sun sign that shows how your zodiac personality is, like people say it shows what you want and moon sign shows what you need! It’s so interesting, and the signs are ruled by planets, so you know Capricorn is ruled by Saturn and when it gets into retrograde then...”

You looked back to see if he was catching on.

He stared back at you. Still wondering what the hell a Capricorn even was.

[niightbiite]

Screenshotted post by @cuppimagines

So ive had that imagine [link 2 said post] sitting in my drafts as a idea to do for awhile now.... n ive done it!!!

And in the process came up with!!! Character Lore. Kinda. Still poking at it but its pretty fun i think!!! [Lore n bonus pics under the cut]

Me trying to figure out designs + dark wizard trans. Why does he have a tenta dick? A dark spell he did had the (accidental) side effect of giving him one (and also changing a good like 50% of his anatomy into something a little more monsterous but shhhhh we're not talking about that), but honestly he'd been wanting one Anyways, AND the spell went off correctly, so he 100% won that gamble.

(HI soooo this backstory thing ended up a LOT longer than i initally expected. Have fun reading lmao)

Sooo the relationship between these two is that theyre recently reconnected childhood penpals!!! They live on two different, yet similar worlds, and those worlds have some hidden connections! One day, a hot summer day, young lil baby Cafe (the person who is Not a wizard) found one of those connections, in the woods behind their family's home. Being a weird little child (as all children are), they decided to send a letter through it.

On the other side of that connection, a few days later, DW (Dark Wizard) found that letter (and the connection) in the woods surrounding his grandfather's home, and also being a weird little child, sent a letter back through. Thus! A wonderful summer friendship was struck up between the two, and lasted for years.

Unfortunately, somewhere around the middle of highschool, DW one day simply stopped responding. Cafe held out hope for months, but soon years had passed, and they simply had to move on. Life waited for no one, and they had college to get to.

The reason behind DW's sudden disappearance is the simply fact that his kindly grandfather, the one who he had been apprenticed to for the last 10+ years, and raised by even before that, was a dark magic user. And the particular kingdom they lived in hunted dark magic users. Also in his heyday, DW's grandfather was a real powerhouse, and caused Many issues (Likely also contributing to the banning of dark magic in that particular kingdom lmao).

So uh, yeah. DW had to go on the run.

Eventually he became a powerful enough tyrant/menancing cryptid mix that folks collectively decided to stop attempting to hunt him down (barring the occasional greedy/overly confident idiot), so DW came back to where his grandfather's house once stood, and settled down there. He never truly forgot about the connection, but it took a few months before he finally worked up the nerve to pen a letter to his oldest friend. Thankfully, DW happened to finally put his letter through just when Cafe happened to be visiting home for a break between semesters.

Even though they had long given up hope on ever hearing from DW again, Cafe still enjoyed hanging out in the woods to chill out, and checking the connection was practically a ritual at this point. Only this time, there was a letter in that script, one they never could have forgotten, even if they tried.

And basically after that its them catching up on each other's life in the past few years, and sending each other lil trinkets and pictures of themselves and whatnot. Then yearning. Lotsa yearning. DW and Cafe have lowkey had childhood crushes on one another all these years, but how the hell would you tell that to a someone you've never met in person, and cant actually ever meet in person??? Plus, Cafe has tried the dating scene, and never really found anyone that interests them (they are demisexual). DW has literally spent years on the run. So they (individually) just kinda. Stew in the Yearning-Pining soup.

Eventually magic fucky ducky shit happens and connections around the world turn into fully fledged, creature permissible portals. Its a lotta chaos, but thats not the point, cause now! Now they can finally fucking hug each other!!! And be incredibly gay horny young adults together.

I dont have anything vaugely thought about beyond that point, but just know they grow old and grey (...eventually. dark magic does some Weird Shit) together.

[starrybouquet]

Star Trek, Stargate, and the Colors of Fandom

Like so many TNG fans the world over, the cast announcement for season 3 of Star Trek: Picard had me stunned, amazed, and then insanely over-the-top excited.

The entire TNG crew back together?!

It's the stuff of us fans' dreams.

When I need a serotonin boost, you bet I'll be playing that little preview video on repeat. (And reading co-showrunner Terry Matalas' tweets, which have been hilarious, if you haven't seen them.)

But my brain is still...my brain, and so of course it decided to insert its depressed, anxious thoughts into what should, by any measure, be 1 minute and 23 seconds of happiness.

If you're so excited about this, my depressed brain asked, why are you not at all excited about a new Stargate show?

Why are you so excited? my anxious brain asked. Aren't you worried they'll ruin everything you loved about TNG? You didn't like season 1 of Picard--remember?

My brain is depressed. And anxious. But it asks hard questions.

Really, I probably should have just ignored those questions. But it's my brain, and I can't really ignore them, so I started thinking. And this is what I came up with.

There are different colors of fandom.

Stargate is burnt orange. It's a blaze, burning, steady but true.

It's love and creation.

It's betrayal.

It grew from canon, yes, but really, my love for Stargate is its own thing now. I've fleshed out "my" versions of Jack and Teal'c and Sam and Daniel more fully than anyone could, in eight-ish seasons of TV. I write about them, I dream about them. I'm active in the fandom, and the community is better than the show. It's gotten me through a pandemic and given me friends and a writing hobby and a hundred photos of Richard Dean Anderson saved in my phone, and really, I'm grateful.

The betrayal I feel whenever I try to watch Avalon and see Cameron Mitchell, over and over, is both a blessing and a curse.

It's a curse because there's canon I cannot in good conscience like. At all. (I know many do enjoy it, and that's fine.) I waffle between disliking it and hating it and feeling like I'm an outsider among people who will just take canon as gospel, whether they like it or dislike it or just think it's meh. (There's a whole rant somewhere in there about how stupidly uncreative people are, trained to just follow the pack and too idiotic to do anything else. Not all of them, but some of them. But that's a post for another day.)

That betrayal is a blessing, too. That's what I realized when I sat down and tried to really think about the questions I was asking myself. The betrayal of canon is a blessing because it's the spark that causes me to write all the canon-divergent fluff deep in my heart. Canon-divergent angst, too, though that's much more difficult for me. It's a blessing that I should really be thankful for, because it forced me to create those versions of characters of which I am so proud. It forced me to write about them.

(I write about them far less than I'd like. But I do write about them.)

So I'm wary of a new show. The reasons I'm wary deserve their own post (there's one that's been sitting in my drafts for awhile--maybe it's time to release it into the world?) but really, I just need to let go of my wariness and embrace what Stargate has become to me. More than a fandom. Less than a complete show.

Anyway, Stargate is burnt orange. A blessing, a curse. Humor and loyalty and the campfire reflecting off four best friends who are closer than family. The color of the trees lining Jack's lake in the fall. The color of the sunrise Jack sees in Sam's smile.

TNG, though--TNG is indigo.

Calming. Serene. The color of royalty. Loyalty, too. (heh, a rhyme!)

TNG is royal. Untouchable, because somehow, despite the 80s spandex and the weird season 6-7 plots and the slightly problematic tone of some season 1-2 episodes, it is perfectly...complete.

I love every second of it.

Maybe it's nostalgia. (I spent so much of my childhood on the TNG DVD set.) Maybe I'm more willing to overlook the episodes I don't like. Maybe I--and I'm cringing as I type this--care about it less?

Yeah, that last one isn't true. What is true is that I really do love every second: the cringey seconds for being the cringe that washes away the seriousness, and the serious seconds for being some of the best sci-fi--scratch that, some of the best TV--that have ever been made.

Anyway, somehow I'm not too worried about TPTB ruining TNG. I've already made my peace with the fact that I'm always going to be on a different axis than most of the (active) Star Trek fandom. And, like I said, TNG is royal. It will stand like a statue, impervious to whatever we try to throw on top of it. It will stand there, and judge us, and that will be that.

Don't get me wrong, I'll definitely be disappointed if this reunion doesn't go the way I want it to. Somehow, though, I'm not so very bothered by that idea.

If I don't like it, I'll go back and watch All Good Things and imagine my own future for the best starship crew ever to grace a screen.

I hope I love it. But--sorry for being repetitive--TNG is indigo. The prospect of being fed a story I don't like doesn't burn the way burnt-orange SG1 does.

TNG is indigo like the depths of the ocean. The recesses of the night sky. Indigo like the surety of Picard's orders, the loyalty in Riker's grip on the observation room chair, the tilt of Guinan's hat and the steadiness of Crusher's hands. TNG is the color of Geordi's beloved warp core, glowing against the shiny 80s paneling of Engineering.

Maybe this reverses. Maybe I hate season 3 of Picard, and my indignation blazes up into red-hot fandom-ing. Maybe SG1 cools into cool seafoam green and there aren't any stories left in me. It's happened before, for other fandoms. It's the cycle of fandom life.

I don't know the future, but I'm going forward with a little more clarity on how I see my fandoms, and a little more color in my day. <3

[hhjs]

summary ➝ "I don't get it." You cock your head to the side and investigating the painting at your feet with an obstinate want to understand how it's supposed to depict love. "It just looks like they slapped on paint."

"Look here, dummy!" He slaps your pointer finger jokingly, grumbling under his breath.  Taking your palm and slowly splaying out the digits. Traces the rough pads against its silky texture, a map to somewhere, a blend of blue and pink, silhouettes reaching out for each other when the world intends to tear them apart.

You sigh, contentedly and think this must be it; because never was love meant to be understood.

It was meant to be felt.

word count ➝ 16.6k words.

alternatively➝ university premise.

genre ➝ angst, romance??? comedy??? a smidge of drama??? idk

pairings➝ han jisung. x fem reader.

warnings ➝ recreational drinking, use of profanity, suggestive.

note➝ i suspect that i have a vague emotional attachment to this. Please note that it used to be a jeonghan fic originally but is now rewritten.  i've been toying around with my writing style, idk if this has met what's expected :c but... this piece is a proper example of the idiots to lovers trope. 

a huge thanks to @emhpathy​ for beta-reading. 

 also i felt indolent and didn’t edit. :(

loosely based on the Coldplay song in question, ‘A Message’.

After. 

The air smells like seasalt. Like having a foamy blanket of  waves draped over your face until you let go, slowly, let all the air leave your lungs. 

In the distant rhythm of the rattling wind, you can barely hear the ring of childish laughter. It's an old bicycle Minho last rode when he was 13. Jisung's driving too fast. But you don't care, you don't care because you feel just so alive. You can feel your heart on your tongue. Under your fingertips. Inside your chest.

You can't believe it's true. Can't believe this is your life. Can't believe you're real.

The city is a haze of blue and yellow and red. Jisung slows down by the sidewalk, leaning into the wash of colours and it  stains the side of his face a little. The breeze is caressing his hair. Patting stubborn gelled strands out. His shoulders rise and fall with every little movement, upwards and downwards. When he breathes in and when he breathes out. Everything seems to slow down. Every second feels like a minute. Every minute like an hour.

 Then suddenly- and it surprises you a little - Jisung pauses, cranes his neck back to smile at you. It's lopsided, toothy. He looks so much younger. Suddenly, so utterly boyish. You commit the sight to memory, the sliver of his teeth, the glint in his eyes, the curl of his mouth -

You hope you never forget this.

 Because this is how you know. This is how you've always known.

You wouldn't change anything. Even if you could go back.  

Not for a second. Not when it hurt. Not when it was hard.

Not even once.

...

Bach's  Toccata & Fugue in D Minor. 

You're in your bedroom, you can hear the music in your head, the crescendos and diminuendos, the feather light piano, the strum of a guitar and the gargling of a trumpet, fingers buzzing with an intense desire to write it all down. But then the sound of an organ rips through the air, the curtains pull apart. Your bedroom floor gives away from under your feet. There is a stage, there is an audience impatiently staring up at you, watching you, measuring you and you don't know what to say.

So you run, run, run home.

You remember standing in front of your mum's bedroom. Knocking. When she lets you crawl back under the covers and she runs a caressing hand down your back, you say nothing. (There seems to be a gaping hole in your chest. And you don't understand it. Like something's missing.) . When she traces the shape of your jaw and says trouble sleeping? you say nothing. Then the rain pelts the windows, the curtains are  pulled; suddenly it's so much darker, so much colder, you place a hand over your heart and then look up at her, up to her large, concerned eyes and say, "It hurts."

 But it's okay. It's okay. You'll forget all about it by tomorrow morning.  Because your mum smells like home, like the earth after it rains. It's okay because the world is less scary when you're a kid. When you don't understand.

 Then you're on a train, it skids against its tracks and your hand hurts from holding onto the handle for too long. You hold your draft against your ribs.There are too many people. Shoulders. Heads. Standing. Sitting. Their lives are different. Even when they're together. 

From here, you can make out a woman stroking her toddler's cheek, a teenager with a copy of A Tale Of Two Cities in hand, a tall man, with his head hung low. He is smiling down at his lover. His fingers splay against her throat. She is looking at him. They say nothing. 

 She stands on her toes and kisses him. And something inside you suddenly comes alive, an absence, tries to gnaw its way out of your ribcage. Tries to tell you I've never left. 

The train finds itself in the belly of a tunnel. Outside, it's so much darker. So much colder. There's a blinking streetlight ahead. Yellow and lime green. It must have been raining. You don't know your stop.     

All the world’s a stage and all the men and women merely players. This is a stage. 

The passengers are impatiently staring up at you, watching you, measuring you and you don't know what to say. You can't run this time.

(You need to get out of here. You need to get out of here. You need to get out of here. This city. Something is missing. Something is wrong. You need to get away.)

Now you wait for a room. A door. A bed. And miss your mother with an intensity that's akin to taking a punch to the gut. You don't remember what the earth smells like anymore. Everything in the city is platform and concrete. And soot rising from tall  chimneys.

Suddenly, you can't believe childhood is over.

Spurts of light found themselves against the hallway ceiling, you wondered how long you'd been thinking about that nightmare for it to take so much of your attention. A mic involuntarily roars to life, reminding you that you were still at the varsity and you had to find Jisung. 

Which sounds easy, had it not been for your history with him. Avoiding him was getting progressively hard a task to maintain because you were in the same department, sharing minor courses that prompts you to think that nothing much had changed and you'd be lying if you said you mind. He is a stubborn page which keened on flipping over in the youthful chapters of your life, refusing to be left behind and some part of you is too scared to know what would happen if you had.

You sigh, looking at the clock nailed to one of the pale yellow pillars and then close your eyes to try to ease the tension in your shoulders. Breathing in. Breathing out.  This morning, you put on a thin cotton dress but the humidity had somehow prompted it to appear somewhat translucent.

Summer brushes up against the back of your neck, you rub your eyes vigorously, placing your sweaty palms on them, dapples of light settled atop  the lids. Coating the little twists of purplish veins pink and white, becoming brighter and brighter and brighter. Any minute now and you would muster up the courage to face him.

You push the field door open.

Football players for the born-again team are loitering about in the heavily populated room, expectants look on most of their faces. You begin to feel twice as much nervous than you did before. 

See, the possibility of stuttering nonsensical sentences and potentially embarrassing yourself in front of Jisung and nameless strangers, again, wasn't the most thrilling idea for you but if you don't make the deadline this time on this group assignment, you'll fail your linguistics course, so it  would be tough to bounce back from for the both of you.

The coach, who is a lanky man, with an alarmingly ruddy face and tufts of snow white hair spiralling out of his head, experienced a lot of difficulty blowing it away from his line of sight. With the  door held back, pressing a curious looking opaque board to his chest, he scans the entirety of the team with an owlish stare, when he was satisfied with the number of persons attending, he stepped in.

"Game starts in 10 minutes." he pauses, allowing the candidates to settle in. A feet away from you, Changbin produces a series of garbled profanities before going back greedily guzzling down the rest of his gatorade.

Once the coach clears his throat, his beady eyes travelling from one curious face to another, flitting between each person, it finds you briefly then it darts curiously across the scenery behind you, as though an explanation for your presence is out there somewhere, waiting to be discovered.

You hold the assignment packet against your chest, feeling the weight of gel blue letters under the rough pad and then slowly fold it open.

Han jisung. You tell him, that's who I'm looking for. 

It takes you awhile to navigate your gaze to the owner of the name amidst the maze of students huffing and puffing about schedules and missing lectures and deadlines, some shouldering their way out in bored frowns, some smiling excited smiles, rushing to grab a suitable seat. Like a blur of faces you catch on the subway and eventually forget, the little snippets of another person's life. Glimpses of them from car windows pressed together in traffic, just a few seconds before the light turns green. One minute you think you know them, put yourself in their shoes and imagine their life for them and the next, you go back to being strangers. 

To you, Jisung's face is an unmistakable, unforgettable kind of face. 

Taunting you from posters of his many swim team accomplishments, under which his name stood in big bold yellow letters, plastered on the noticeboards, on the  walls where the paint was starting to crack. The search didn't prove to be very difficult even though he didn't stick out like a sore thumb without his signature bleached blonde hair.

A varsity jacket is discarded on his body. Under the blue and yellow fabric, Jisung's chest rises and falls with every breath, his lanky legs perched up on the bleachers.  You wonder how he managed to doze off in the face of all this tension about getting clocked in face with a football. 

Aside from by accident, you were positive he hadn't tried to speak to you ever since your previous, unspeakably embarrassing encounter. 

That was a long time ago. 

It was certain that had it not been for this assignment, things between you would remain that way. In spite of this, you've gathered, because people never stop fawning over this prominent character, that not much has changed since you were in school.

Jisung managed to secure an attention drawing position wherever he went and upperclassmen wanted to be his friend even though he mostly indulged only in his own company. 

His head rests on folded arms, his foot is propped up on his knee, which he keeps shaking.  Sunlight crawls up the expanse of his exposed cheek, allowing burnt orange to  bathe half of his face, ribbons of liquid light tapering to smudges down the side of his jaw and disappearing.

Jisung has a boyish face, his eyes are big and kiddish, paired with a sharp nose and a convenient, small, pinkish mouth inherently pouted out to accentuate his puffy squirrel like cheeks but slimming down around his jaw. His raven hair falls in sleek, wet tufts clinging to his forehead and grazing his rosy cheeks, giving him a strange resemblance to a cherub loitering around in the real world.

Come to think of it, Jisung looks, like he invariably does, just slightly out of place.

You drop your bag on the grass. The action makes an unexpected thump. His eyes stir  faster behind closed eyelids, as though he were stirring awake from an ardently produced dream, like a newborn baby, divorced from the worries of the world. Jisung opens one of his eyes, then another, glaring confusedly, his lips pursed in unspoken surprise.

What's the big deal, right? At best, he'll start cooperating with you. At worst, you imagine, he'll toss you across the field for disrupting his sleep.

Of course, no one in their right minds would opt for the latter option, the rational part of you reasons - but you show him the packet,  just for safety measures.

"I thought we ought to go over how we're going to work around this assignment and you weren't in class so..."  You explain. When Jisung just blinks up at you in a curious fashion, you consider that he might not recognise you at all, that, for some reason, bothers you. "You probably don't remember me I-"

"I remember." He interjects firmly, acknowledging you with a fluent utterance of your name that gives you enough evidence of his claim, followed by a watchful, stoic gaze, he motions for you to take a seat beside him. 

You hesitantly sit at the end of the row,  keeping a calculated distance between your bodies. You find that even after all this time looking him in the eye was just as unnerving as it had been the first time they shyly flickered back to yours from across a thick spined A levels Calculus textbook. There's still an intimidating air about him, something that seeks to be constantly impressed without asking to.

Jisung sits up straighter, setting both his legs on either side of the bench, he keeps his gaze trained on your face, not looking away once. "Go on." He suggests, his voice low, "What do we have to do?"

You perk up at this, taking the contents out of the packet. Setting them down before you, you reiterate the instructions rendered in class, trying to include every important detail which contributes to the making of the project.

"We have to attach a PowerPoint part too." You paused, "Let's do that bit today."

Jisung listens intently, never cutting you off, he nods occasionally, making suggestions when you were trying to look for suitable loops in your schedules to work on the scheme, you recommended  several premises, ranging from cafés to parks to libraries to food courts, even your place because it's the closest from Jisung's flat and he refuses go beyond the distance on a Sunday morning. You casually let in the fact that your flatmate would be there in order to insinuate that you hadn't made the offer because of your previous feelings for him.

 You sigh, taking a minute to stretch back and take a deep breath. The bench is cool under your thighs, soft caresses of a warm summer breeze brushing the hair from your face away, pale yellow pours from the canopies, staining the grass, football players prepping in the distance, their zealous partners egging them on with excited smiles, shouting encouragements from the other end of the court.  You imagine lying down on the grass, spreading your arms out and not having a care about anything.

"You still wear that bracelet." 

"What?" You yawn, brows furrowed in confusion. You look at him from the corner of your eyes,  finding that his brown orbs motion to the source of comment, they dart from your cheek to your wrist, where surely the platinum accessory is tied to its loosest hoop, it used to be your go-to add-on in school. 

Surprised, you touch the item briefly, before retracting your hand slowly. All you can think is he remembers, he really remembers,  "...Yeah."

...

Instead of running about playgrounds with a mouthful of kiddish laughter and building cartoonishly  architectured sandcastles, you remember spending most of your childhood with your nose dug deep inside a fairytale, splurging much time on committing the glide of milky pages to memory, eyes widening, face twisting with each vicissitudes of emotions that would come over you with each stage of exploring a story. It was your own little world, a catharsis for all that you were holding inside, a window you could crack open and when the real world felt stuffy. 

Fancying Jisung was, your younger self imagined, fantastical, like something out of those fairytales.

You don't know when you started liking him, maybe it was the first time you saw him. It was your last year in school and Jisung's unfamiliar face was a new sight against the fuzzy background of sleepy students pouring into the hallway, it was the kind that demanded to be noticed, even though he simply  looked bored with an enormous pair of headphones looped around his thin neck.

Jisung was born to go through life being the embodiment of an all rounder, now that you think about it, there's not a thing he wasn't good at, always  having a proclivity to outshine others.

 He was a transfer student with stellar grades in spite of mostly routing his interest  towards composing  obscure music you'd found floating about the net. In all honesty, he truly was the master of all trades and the jack of none and every room was a keeper of attention, enveloped in an intangible but unanimous, wordless veil of interest towards the new character.

But  maybe it wasn't as theatrical as you remembered; maybe it was the love at  first sight nonsense, maybe it wasn't something you realised overnight, out of the blue, maybe it all happened at a slow, infuriating pace, maybe you started liking him for the small, stupid and unimportant things, like when you dropped your pen, the thin stick rolling away between your desks and he picked it up, flicking it between his fingers curiously, carefully curling his fingers around the metal, observing it before putting it back on your desk, maybe it was in class, when he zoned out in class, not bothering to look apart until he realised it had caught your attention, he then blinked away, the rosy hue of his cheeks more prominent with each passing second,  maybe it was when you were sure you were about to flunk the history pop quiz and Jisung whispered the names of warriors and poets and the fallen while keeping his gaze firmly poised on his paper.

You were so shy, cloistered, intensely egregious and he kept seeking you out in some new manner, causing you to be an element of mild interest not only amongst your peers but also people who actively seeked his romantic interest.  Although, conversations  on your part never stretched beyond differentiation and stealing cautious glances at one another, (which wasn't a shocker because you didn't know how to compute a chat with him and Jisung was unusually timid for someone who acquainted himself with well known rambunctious personalities), you genuinely enjoyed his company.

So you obliged. Even though it was utterly improper and you were sure he liked someone on the cheer squad. It was just that you were a kid and you wanted to wear your heart on your sleeve just once before tucking it away forever.

He poked his head out from the water, wordlessly upon hearing his name, looking at you with a cocked brow and you were quick to say it, like you had to before you ended up changing your mind, it took a lot of courage to mutter a simple confession after all,  in spite of the fact you didn't at all picture him reciprocating, whisking you off of your feet with a wide grin, in a grand affirmation of all the rubbish pop culture has spoon fed you. 

It was a stereotypical teeth rotting, sweet crush that bound you to want to be around Jisung in a way he didn't, something lodged deep inside of you, the same thing that was childish and clung onto its fairy tales for dear life, hoped that he would share the same feelings, in spite of knowing it was undoubtedly unrequited. 

 Jisung had an indecipherable look on his face, he parted his mouth to say something but paused as if looking for the right words.  He simply settled with a sigh, before lowering his body down into the pool. You replayed the scene over and over again for the rest of senior year, until it drove you to a point of absolute insanity. You even considered googling what a sigh was supposed to convey, if fishing through dictionaries wasn't going to tell.

That was notably the last time you spoke in school.

But your strained relationship stayed with you like an embarrassing tattoo  and in trying desperately to  conceal it, afraid someone would see too much, know too much, you would only make it more apparent. 

You had to push him away to the farthest corner of your mind so you didn't have to wonder anymore, didn't have to interpret every action like your life depended on it - because love to you was so immense that it was overwhelming. You've wanted love to rescue you in some way, looked for it in the soft murmur of pages, in the chilling words to a song you can't seem to forget, you've waited for love like an impatient eagle anticipating its opportunity  to leap in and swoop up its shot at satisfying its undying hunger. You needed to uproot those budding feelings before they took abode inside your chest, grew stronger, into something massive, unignorable, something like love.

Avoiding Jisung in hallways, in class and really everywhere was some form of a habit you were developing - but that didn't stop him  from entangling himself with your ponderings; you thought of all the things he did without paying much attention to the act, like his petulant whining when he wanted something he wasn't getting, you thought of the way he tapped his pen against the wooden desk, silently eyeing chalky math problems on the board before uttering the answer with an ease only he could carry, you thought of his petulant front during arguments and how he always ended up winning, you just missed being around him without the added tension - which was funny because you're the one to blame for it. 

To your knowledge, Jisung didn't know to speak in puzzles, even when he didn't want to say something, he always found an agreeable way to deliver it,  often unknowingly wording them as they were, he didn't understand the complexities with which people conversed, needing everything to be black and white, as clear as the summer sky, so everyday felt like he owed you an example of his unintentional transparency, a explanation even though you knew he didn't.  

Maybe that's it, you thought, maybe that's all. 

(Sometimes you would sense his gaze searing into the side of your face, as if he was on the verge of uttering a greeting.

But graduation came along. And you never heard anything from him.)

You began to understand that all those tear jerking, unhappy endings were inevitable, like not being able to take your eyes off the stage during  Giacomo Puccini's Sono Andati, like being exposed to Mimi's excruciating death, losing something you can't put a finger on - and suddenly, the plays, the window, the catharsis wasn't enough, the child in you wanted to scream and  kick and throw, the child in you wanted to forge her own ending, the one that made sense, the one you could anticipate.

Running his palms along the cool glass, Jisung pauses from time to time to look at you, as if expecting you to address the elephant in the room, the same elephant that followed you all the way from campus, to his car, to the café downtown. It wasn't until the waiter went away in the pursuit of getting your order did he pose the inquiry. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" 

You shake your head slowly, a nervous laugh escaping your lips.

 "What's there to talk about? It was a long time ago and I'm over it."

 Saying it out loud like this feels weird, it feels so real and disappointing and embarrassing, you feel reduced to a child coming clean about that one time they tipped over a vase and dusted the debris under the rug he is about to step about on, hoping he wouldn't notice. 

The statement makes you feel guilty, like you're lying. You don't want to know if you really are.

"Well, does that mean we can be friends?" Mutters Jisung against the opening of his straw, sipping miserly as though not wanting to finish the rest of his Americano. He opens his mouth to say something but stops, looking blatantly confused, like that was the only explanation he had for your fallout. "I don't understand." 

Not having thought that far, you stop typing, the click clack of keys muting, Jisung's thick rimmed glasses rest atop the jut of his nose and he's peering over them to look right at you with big wide eyes, genuinely interested in being supplied an answer.  The sixteen year old you would be overwhelmed with bouts of fluster right now. But you stopped being that person a long time ago, in fact, that person is to you a bleary recollection of a mere stranger who you thought you saw somewhere but couldn't put a finger on the location.

Shrugging, unsure, the question comes after a lengthy pause, "I guess it does?"

You sit in temporary silence after the short conversation ends, never going off topic again and giving into irrelevant chats even though Jisung is actively trying to initiate conversation about things which had nothing to do with work. You wonder why, wordlessly admitting that it was getting harder to resist the urge to talk to him with every passing second.

His car was parked a few lanes away from the café so you were obliged to walk after getting through the first portion of the assignment.

"So." Jisung starts, biting the side of his cheek, "What have you been upto lately?"

Talking to Jisung isn't as difficult as your younger self made it to be, he could hold a conversation well, jumping from serious topics to lighter ones to keep the balance, making witty comments here and there that had you laughing without really meaning to and every time, you'd catch a look of satisfaction glinting in his eyes. 

 The pair of you walk by an ice-cream parlour where a short bald man with a perpetually happy  face is handing out samples. A mint green board is attached to the appendage of a stall, outstretching from the original store, it says La Petite Glacière. 

You raise your brows, literal nomenclature.

"Journalism could suit you." The comment is off-handed, a product of you thinking out loud, imagining Jisung running around with a recorder, with his big, friendly eyes, queries posed with an an easy jovial attitude; it's so befitting, you just couldn't help but notify him. Even if it was an involuntary notification. You left out the part where you always pegged his love for composing would eventually materialise instead, this was unexpected to say the least. But Jisung described music as a getaway, something he was willing to do out of passion and not duty.

It was to his credit that he didn't laugh in your face when you said you wanted to be a playwright, specialising solely in the field of fiction. That's one thing he doesn't have in common with your parents. (Who didn't hesitate to point out that it was an obsolete branch of writing.)

"Yeah?" Jisung grins archly, glancing at you, as insinuating the memory of you playing Iago when you were expecting to land Desdemona is still impressed on him. "I could say the same for you."

You only wave him off, rolling your eyes. Some things are better left forgotten.

It's hot and you're really thirsty. You're knee deep in lengthy conversations engineered to catch up with one another, which consisted of ping-ponging inquiries about everything and anything, like how it was moving away from your family and new hobbies and pet peeves and casual strolls down memory lane but then the tension would settle and you would grow awfully quiet, like you're doing something you aren't supposed to, like you're walking into the inviting mouth a ginormous tiger whilst convincing yourself that it won't gobble you up.

"Okay. I have one." you start, he's nodding in encouragement,  "Have you been dating a lot?" 

Jisung laughs at your obvious curiosity, wiping his sweaty forehead with a spare napkin, strolling really fast, long legs promoting his speedy gait, you have to jog from time to time to keep up.

"Why?" 

He tilts his head to you, the teasing spark in his eyes glinting knowingly, he becomes shorter and grows taller walking up and down the slopes of the bumpy road.

  Your eyes widen. You were curious! You haven't spoken to him for a long time and you're just catching up. Exactly, you tell yourself,  that's believable, that, you think, makes sense. The other explanation, the one you're deigning to not look in the eye, that a part of you would be disappointed if he had said yes doesn't.

You flounder for a response, something, just a word or even an awkward noise, anything to formulate a proper retort. When that proves to be delayed and difficult, heat begins to pool into your cheeks, shooting up to the back of your ears and budding under the skin of your neck.

"Just asking."

 He hums, ghosting his fingers along the small of your back, careful not to touch you as he shoulders his way to your side without bumping you off of your feet, the gesture prompts something inside your gut to twist and twist and twist. "Well...yeah, but it's never been serious."

You're waiting for the red light so you can cross the road to the parking area. Jisung is towering over a sea of the heads, he's not much taller than the average person, hands tucked in his pockets. The wind is messing his hair up to the side, he keeps running his fingers through the stubborn strand to get it to sit right but when the endeavour proves to be futile so he just scoffs, as if berating the strand whilst stubbornly repeating the action. 

Looking at him like this, you imagine falling in love with Jisung is easy. Like gliding a hot knife through butter. It must feel just right, even if it doesn't last long, like holding fire in between your palms and pretending you own it, feeling the warmth kissing your skin before it nips and burns, like speeding across comets, stars and the moon, waging wars in the name of romance and producing litanies about love and then - finally, inevitably, unwillingly - letting go, like you always knew you would.

 You imagine the aged memories of blurry faces behind cobwebs of raindrops and curtains of mist, the faces of people who he could've loved but hadn't.

And it scares you for some unknown reason.

There's something inexplicably lovable about Jisung, his babyish features have always possessed the tendency to catch you off guard, even though you've known him for a long time; it's gobsmacking and too winning to be real, like something out of a dream, the milky planes of an acrylic face. The smooth buttery texture of his skin, the subtle, narrow jut of his nose, the pouted shape of his mouth and pearly teeth. You think he doesn't know this, doesn't see himself the way you do even when he pretends to be confident with his boastful jokes, they are just jokes after all. Only further evidence of how he doesn't want to believe any compliment rendered his way.

"What about you?" He poses, looking over from the hood of his car while unlocking it from the driver side, "Dating anyone?" 

The truth is, you've tried the atrocities of blind dating and online dating and casual dating but they all have been deficient and you're too tired to go through the never ending cycle  of being on disappointing dates again: your expectations are too high, some might even say, for the way you seek familiarity with absolute strangers; you're stubborn, awkward and sometimes, simply unapproachable,  but for the sake of not deflating your ego, you decide that Jisung doesn't need to know this. 

You shake your head, failing to understand why Jisung is grinning through the cracked window, whilst you're pulling the door open and plopping down on the passenger seat.

"Why are you smiling?" You furrow your brows, watching as the lopsided grin grows bigger. 

"Because." He shrugs, tucking his hands in his pockets.  

"Because?" You look at him expectantly, but he just looks back at you without expanding the brief explanation. You're so close that you can make out the thin layer of mist collecting on his eyelashes, his arched cupid's bow, his eyes have so much brown in them. You'd liken the colour to that of a muddy lake, like the bare earth, they catch sunlight and turn golden, just for a second, for just one second, it looks like what magic must be like. Realising that you have been staring at him for quite long, you tear your abashed gaze away. Piloting it to shift from the buskers to the other cars, buses, pedestrians, traffic lights, looking for a sight distracting enough.

"I'm not telling you!" Jisung mocks your tone like a child with a violent shake of his head, putting his keys in ignition. The engine roars to life, wheezing like a kettle. Why he drives a Comet Convertible when he could've gotten any other alternative is a wonder; not that you mind, you like it, it’s  like sitting  inside a giant jewelry box, the inside is smooth red leather, velvety smooth black paint on the outside.

"Why not?" You frown.

Jisung rolls the steering wheel with one hand, keeping his eyes trained to the approaching traffic while turning lanes, he giggles, "Because."

...

You'll have to admit that it's quite... challenging coming to terms with being friends with Jisung. Not because he's practically everywhere but  just since Jisung tends to demand your attention when he realises he's not getting it.

When you try to dodge him on mornings after he cheats at UNO, scurrying away behind swathes of sleep deprived university students, hoping you don't catch his eye, he calls your name in that  loud, clear and intentional way that he does, dragging a heavy arm around your shoulder to squeeze it against the back of your neck before tousling your hair or some other action to effectively ruin your get up. When you zone out in class, musing absently about something that has nothing to do with scale efficiency and accidentally catch his gaze, he winks at you, snapping you right back into attention. 

Your friendship is, to say the least, interesting, for everyone around you.  It's like everyone is always on the edge of their seats, waiting for a chance to poke fun at your apparent chemistry. It means nothing, you're just friends, you remind yourself over and over again, defensively, succumbing to the urge to grow closer and closer to him without paying mind to the annoying voice in your head.

Jisung texts you in the middle of the night, when he's parked out front, to meet him for a midnight drive out that you're sure no one knows about and you tell yourself you're getting away with it - only to be confronted by a smirking Sunwoo in the morning, likening the situation to a teenager  caught red handed sneaking in through the window after a clandestine night of partying.

 But you're not spared the teasing even out in the open. Though while you squirm awkwardly, sink into your seat and refute offendedly, Jisung doesn't have a lick of such knowledge or care, he easily slumps against you, resting his head on your shoulder in class and dozing off, indifferent to the multiple pairs of eyes zeroing in on you.

Even though the bartenders smile their coquettish smiles, offering drinks on the house and people laughed a little more than necessary, twirling their hair around their fingers at anything and everything he said, thence offering proper chances to ditch you completely, he remains close to you at pubs, putting his long fingers on your shoulders and resting his chin on your head, shooting some creepy guy who just wouldn't stop insisting on buying you a drink a look that said he wouldn't mind taking a stronger stance, had the creep not backed off. It was what anyone would have done, you tell yourself, ignoring the underlying pang of a gut feeling that begged to differ.

You envy the obvious charm Jisung holds over everyone, easing his way out of the jokes to do whatever he wants, you wonder what he would do if someone asked him if you were just friends, if he would dismiss them with a wave or provide a positive response, if it would hurt, if it would matter.

"Hey!" 

You jump at the tone. It's breezy, light and followed by a scoff at the end, you recognise it, sighing once the initial surprise oozes out of you to be replaced with familiarity, Renjun is halfway through a complaint about acrylic paint, his mouth half open while his eyes travel over your head, where you're certain the owner of the voice is jogging up to the pair of you. 

"I'll er...catch you later." Renjun purses his lips, while you turn your gaze back to Jisung, he's coming from practice, so his hair is wet, cheeks flushed red, he looks younger like this, completely barefaced. He's wearing a  plain white t-shirt and light wash jeans, even in such an ordinary attire, a few bypassers' attention latch solely onto him.

The sun has long laid on a cotton soft sheet of clouds, letting a blue evening straighten its back against the dark firmament, the crowd at campus is reducing dramatically, you were walking to the metro, deciding to rest by the park bench as he mimics the pose, sliding from the opposite end when you try to keep a distance.

Jisung nudges you with his shoulder. "We’re having a party at our new place. You should come."

It wasn't willingness that took you to loud premises. You aren't exactly a party animal, far from it, maybe an animal that blends into the background, wordlessly observing  masses of sweaty people who will wake up with horrible hangovers the next morning, wishing the night before had never happened. If such an animal exists. 

 But you're genuinely curious about meeting Minho, who seems to have assumed the position of  one of Jisung's best friends while you were absent from his life. You found yourself wondering if he was different from Bang Chan, who in spite of being the former's friend, is someone you could deem yourself more similar to than he is to Jisung; shaking your heads and groaning into your palms, Chan would pinch the bridge of his nose and cautiously glance at you as though to convey You get me, right? while Jisung showered the karaoke bar manager with grandiloquent blandishments into giving extra minutes for a lower price.

Despite this, it is the undeniable but sheer adoration for your fun-loving mutual friend that binds you two together the best, the shared looks of appreciation when Jisung  scolds you for neglecting your health, when he surprisingly remembers a minor detail about you or when he indulges in appreciative chats about crayon drawings with loquacious kids who would come running to display their paintings when you were looking to take an indolent walk in the local park, he would listen attentively, moving to a sitting position, nodding his head like he understood what the kiddish gibberish meant; one thing is certain -  there was certainly more to Jisung than people pegged and if anything, those undiscovered traits only made him more endearing.

"Okay….but make sure we don't end up playing strip poker or something." You shudder at that thought, grimacing exaggeratedly to make your point.

"Why?" He raises his brows, a small simper playing on his lips to give away that he was only teasing you, "I like that game."

But under all that banter, it was well received that Jisung would never put you to the obligation of doing anything you're not comfortable with, so you just play along, narrowing your eyes, "That's because you're a pervert." You say, stifling a laugh whilst his grin dissolves to drop to a blank face.

 Jisung glares at you, nudging you with his knee, effectively putting you on the verge of falling.

"Hey!"  You scoff, repeating the action but Jisung doesn't roll across the grass like you wanted, he doesn't even budge. Instead, he laughs at your frustration, shaking his head and glancing back at you with an entertained look in his eyes. 

(Something inside your chest is growing, like an epiphany, its vines pushing up against your lungs, your heart, its thornes prickling, injuring the flesh, something that tells you this is so much more to you than you'd admit, you press it down, ignore it; just a little longer, you think, just a little longer before you start to see this for what it is. )

"Why are you staring at me?" Jisung questions, you can't help but notice how he tilts his head, moving his curious face closer to yours, inspecting, like just before he makes his final move and mutters Checkmate but he doesn't actually know what he's doing, doesn't realise the weight of his actions.  "Do I have something on my face?" He tilts his cheek to you, as though offering you to examine it and then, immediately his mouth lowers down to form a deep set frown. Is he really that goddamned clueless? Doesn't this affect him at all? 

"No." You clear your throat and lean back, moving your weight on your palms,  "It's getting late. We should get going." 

...

The earliest memory you have is from when you were five, your parents had taken you to the beach and that day, while the sun shone brightly and the sand was warm, like home under your feet, with big curious eyes, you gazed off into the brilliant blue water. 

It was just so beautiful. 

And you so badly, wanted to wade into the welcoming foamy arms of the sea. If only the immensity of the water hadn't scared you as much as it did, you thought. It was like a blue giant that was reaching to steal the sun off of the sky and if you  dared to test the waters, the liquid Goliath could whisk you right off of your tiny feet and drag you into its mouth.

 That, you think, is what you're really afraid of, that deep down inside , you never really stopped holding back. That you'll never muster up the courage to do anything you really want.

In the midst of the chaos of an alcohol induced party, your head feels like it's about to explode.

It stopped raining. And you haven't had the luxury of running into Jisung ever since he went off to get a drink for himself.

The windows are open. Though there's not a flutter of a cool breeze or anything. But there are assortments of crisps, juices and other suspicious looking snacks. The cool curve of the stair railing pressing up against your side. It's unspeakably loud. The frat house, as typical as it sounds, welcomes an obnoxiously large crowd, it isn't surprising, considering people here have a reputation for social adeptness, the house being big enough to capacitate a crowd twice as big as its guests is just a plus point.

 Once the majority of the crowd  had  long thinned out to participate in a curious sounding game of  beer pong, the aftermath is that everything smells like sweat, vomit or both. You're tipsy, tired and alone. It's been an hour since you arrived. Your patience is wearing thin. 

 You down the remainder of the watered down scotch, even though the liquid could secure a horrible case of nausea if you couldn't hold your liquor well tonight.

In the mess of too many heads, too many hands and too many bodies, pushing, pulling, dancing and kissing  with shocking hostility, suddenly, the view starts to shift, from left to right, from upwards and downwards, like you're on a rollercoaster but without the lap bar. It's certainly a symptom of  the  splitting migraine you're sporting. It's too loud downstairs for you to summon anyone and besides, the search for a familiar face seems futile.  

You fish out your phone, wondering if you should send Jisung a text, squinting at the glaring blue screen but decide against it - hoping to God that you don't walk in on anyone shagging while looking for one of the rooms to crash in. 

Now, that...would put them in an awkward position. You mentally high five yourself for the joke. 

Though the amusement is  mostly transient, soon replaced by a rapid jerk of pain. Wincing in an attempt to stand with little control over balance, you try to ease the pain from your briefly twisted foot. 

When you've made it to your desired destination, an inconspicuous looking room at the end of the long hall, you kick off the death traps for heels off of your feet and all but fling yourself on the mattress.

Stacks of comics are carefully  placed on the top most shelf of the bookshelf pushed against the wall, their polished spines sticking out.

 The rest are overflowing with vinyls, set in alphabetical order. You can tell because each row has a tag taped over its head.

Everything is surprisingly clean, the walls are crisp white, there's a single black wall on which a large painting sits. A night light glows dimly, perched up on the bedside table. Whoever's bedroom this is, has the blandest taste in interior design. Or a lack of it since they moved in not long ago as Jisung informed.

 You stare owlishly at the blue ceiling, following the undulating spines of bricks, stacked in. Upwards and downwards. Like a map. Like a  staircase to nowhere. Then you close your eyes. 

Imagining that you're staring up at the sky at dawn, when it's  a swirl of milk tea. Golden. Buttery white. Autumnal Yellow. And pumpkin spice. Brown curls against the background of a milky white firmament and if one bothered to look closer, they'd catch stars peeking from behind slowly darkening clouds, waiting to come out. 

When you were a child, you liked to stick a curious index into filled tea cups, as if to study the khaki liquid , not quite grasping the connoisseurship of hot beverages just yet. The experience would always end with a mouthful of biscuits and your grandmum's tickles engendering your stomach to ache a good kind of ache.

Now, the memory prompts you to raise a finger to the air, as if you were dipping your digits into the whirlpool of maroon. For a moment, you feel as if you're still that little girl stuck in someone else's body, like you hadn't grown up at all. 

But in the hurtful manner that reality often made itself known, yanking you right back from your dreams, the door creaks noisily and then closes.

Out of the corner of your eye, the character looks more like a funny sketch on a chalkboard than he does a person. All blurry and messy. Like someone tried to rub him out. 

The flash of light radiating from his phone, a sliver of neon, silver, you recognise his face, you've seen the same expression right before he's about to choose between  his favourite ice cream flavour; eyebrows knitted in concentration, lips pursed, emerging from the shadows.  He's typing really fast. You blink, adjusting your vision. The unobstructed sight of his face broadens. "Jisung?" 

 He looks at you, positioning his phone towards your face to get a good in the barely there light. 

"Yeah?"

You furrow your brows in confusion, "What are you doing here?" 

"That's a good question."  He snorts.  "Indeed, what business might I have in my room?"

You jump, sitting straighter, then stand up. Just in case he thinks you're a fucking creep. He probably doesn't even want to be friends with you anymore and you understand, you wouldn't want to be friends with you either. "I...I didn't know."

Jisung laughs loudly at your fluster, rolling his eyes,  he plops down, the mattress dipping under his weight, groaning noisily. He pats the spot beside him. "Relax..."

You wear a doubtful look, under the impression that he'd break into a laughing fit with a quip about you caving in so easily.  You narrow your eyes even though you're quite tempted to take his offer. 

He tuts, yanking you by the arm so you sink down beside him.  

"I just saw you coming upstairs, wanted to make sure some asshole wasn't picking on you." He explains, his face contorting to momentary peevishness just at the fleeting thought. 

A crappy pop song is buzzing in the background, you can hear it, you can smell the salted popcorn in the air. His fringe is brushed forward, cheeks smoothed over, moisturised, in this intimidating proximity, you pick up that Jisung always smells really good. Like aftershave and something strong, woody, earthy — but just the right amount, not overpowering.

 "Have you considered trying something more...erm... colourful?" You  scan his room, deciding to change the subject, attempting to dodge the heavy feeling of fluster in your chest; you guess it was showing on your face because the corners of Jisung's mouth begin to quirk upwards. If there’s anyone more awkward than Jisung, it /s definitely you. "This isn't really you."

 With his mouth lopsided, his nose scrunching upwards, his teeth showing, his eyes turning to crescents, Jisung chuckles, as if perceiving your attempt to digress but choosing to let it slide.

 "Then what is?" He raises a brow.

"I don't know." You pause, trying to picture a suitable tint, "Something bright."

Someone starts blasting Ed Sheeran outside, putting the volume all the way. It creates a proper distraction from the conversation to go beyond simple suggestions, it was a sudden reminder of just how badly you wanted the party to be over.

 "You know the more I think about it, the more I come to acknowledge that this is really not my scene."  You confess absentmindedly, backing up on the mattress so your feet dangle, your headache kicks back, beating inside  your ears, knocking against your skull. You lie back on the mattress, curiously blinking up at Jisung's frowning face.

 "Why didn't you tell me that before?" He says, a pinch in his brows pushing the shape up in utter concern. 

"Because I wanted to come." You say honestly, prompting Jisung to heave a deep sigh, relief gradually washing over his rigid features, "I don't know, maybe I'm just not fun enough."

"Yeah. That's probably it." He jokes, grinning from ear to ear. But the shape drops immediately when you jut your lip out instead of mirroring the mirthful action. "You really think so?"

 He blinks at you, not expecting the forwardness, "No." He says, and you note that this is the most serious Jisung has ever sounded around you.

Your face is growing increasingly hot as the weight of his remark started to kick in. It’s so unfair, isn't it? He has no idea how every little thing he said to you meant so much more than it ought. It hurt when you found yourself automatically deducing his trivial actions, all the while knowing it hadn't meant anything to him.  To him, you're just a friend. And you aren't going to let your emotions ruin that, not again. 

 "What's the party for anyway?"

You furrow your eyebrows in genuine curiosity when the silence has become unbearable. Constantly needing to be disrupted. 

 "It's a stupid frat house tradition, they do it every time we move."

“Sounds like a cult activity to me."

You hear him hum, as if feigning contemplation, then open your eyes.

 "Well, that...That's because it is."

It's very typical of Jisung to try to make jokes whilst trying to keep a straight face. In most cases, he doesn't fool anyone. His voice rises  to a cartoonish volume, his mouth pouted out when he speaks as though to hold back a laugh, it’s his eyes, widened, twinkling with a notorious spark in them that ultimately gave it away. In rare instances, however, they deluded strangers into thinking he was being serious when he really wasn't; like that time he told Chan the pool was pre-heated just for the latter, who trustingly dove into the water, to swim up with clattering teeth and ice cold skin to the surface finding that Jisung was grinning deviously. It was an obvious payback for the time the older male hogged Jisung's share of cheesecake as a daring attempt at pranking.

Maybe, you guess, you just knew him too well.

  "Interesting." you raise your brows, playing along, "I'm surprised there isn't any nude dancing involved."

 "Wow...you sound so disappointed.” 

 Jisung laughs, his chest heaving upwards and downwards with every laboured breath.  It's a pleasant sight, knowing you get to have this moment to yourself. For reasons you'd like to ignore, something inside your chest begins to ache, thrumming against your ribs. It isn't until you put your hands over your face in an attempt to get rid of a thin layer of sweat, do you realise that you were smiling.

When he calms down, he keeps looking at you. "I take that you made the submission?" He presses, knowing well that you were intending to put off the matter from the dodgy look in your eyes. "Right?"

 Before, Jisung stubbornly pressed on the matter, it was unheard of for you to allow your writings to be read by anyone other than yourself; it was only fiction, your little secret, you reason, even though you knew the underlying cause of your unwillingness was that you simply cannot take rejection well, it is truly terrifying but an automatic reaction to think that your work is boring and somehow unworthy of praise every time  you are on the verge of sharing it. Your parents never showed any particular interest in it and you assumed that was a universal desire. 

But Jisung is incredibly obdurate when he wants to be.

 Sometimes, you think he's the only person in your life who's truly honest with you, he doesn't shower you in false accolades, not hesitating to rip the band-aid, to point out the less likable bits from the likable ones even if he knew it would make you unhappy. It was interesting prying your wounds open around him, he wouldn't suppress his thoughts and blurt euphemisms like it's going to be okay, he would grimace and gag and then he'd clean them, he would sit patiently with them and try to dress them up for better - and somewhere along the way, while you may have cared about other people's opinions, your concern for what he thinks of you is starting to become far more significant. And it petrifies you.  "No." 

Jisung shoots you a look of annoyance, staring at you like he's awaiting an explanation. You can sense the lengthy talk coming from the back of his throat, something which surpassed the regular limits of you should do this and you shouldn't do this, he relentlessly pushed you towards your career which you claimed you were passionate about but needed his stern berating often when you would stagger back in indolence and you'd be lying if you said it isn't effective - albeit, the scoldings sometimes led to the two of you bickering back and forth, giving each other the silent treatment until one of you would cave - whatever it was, you know you could never turn down Jisung, even if he was bruising your ego to ask you to get your shit together.  "Why not?"

 "It's just a stupid draft, Sungie..." You laugh nervously but he doesn't give into the fit like you imagined, instead, he just dons a solemn look on his face, something that seems to show that he'd been peeved by your response.

  "No it’s not." He shakes his head slowly and there's sort of a firmness in his retort that surprises you, far from how he usually jokes on about,  that tells you there's no room for argument, "It's not stupid at all."

Jisung tears his gaze away, his expression softening once he notes the worried look on your face, it's as though he had suddenly changed his mind about the lecture he was surely planning  to give you,

 "Look I don’t want to fight.” He sighs, “You’re always talking about how much this means to you and if it’s something that you really want, don't put it off. I'm your friend, I can only encourage you — but at the end of the day, it's your job to pull yourself up. Goes without saying that it’ll be a complete waste if you don’t pursue play writing because you - and I don't care if you don't agree with me -  really do have a lot of potential.”

You blink in wonder, ”You think so?"

 "I know so."

 You don't remember the last time someone said something like that to you, if at all. Tearing your gaze away from him, you’re met with the inability to shake the feeling of craving something you don't want to understand, mired in your own musings and for no particular reason but to avoid the desperation of confessing to yourself of the warm tight feeling inside your belly - you give into the temptation of placing your palm over the nightlight, watching the light turn from bright yellow to muted blue, it stings slightly. 

Too cheesy, you would groan out under any other circumstance where you hadn’t been so fazed.

Instead, you just gulp, eyes wide at his forward comment, his praise is the equivalent of being splashed with ice cold water when one is half asleep, now you're all wide eyed and incognisant of what's real and what isn't, it prompts a jolting sensation to traverse all throughout your body, "Thanks." 

This scene was no exception, Jisung tips his head back against his palms when he's thinking about something, while keeping his calm gaze posed on you, he smiles, rolling his eyes. “You’re too hard on yourself, loosen up just a little. I'm not always gonna be around.”

You muse that your mum said the exact same thing when you moved away for university but chose not to mention it, it's not true though, you want to say. Because Jisung is always there for you.

 See, the universe exists on this dreadful thread of balance  and you've been hanging on by your last finger for as long as you remember, taking every step on the basis of a fear of tumbling off to be greeted by the gasps and complaints of an imaginary audience, for the longest time, picturing  your play to be dissected like a lab rat, for a delirious critic to point their scalpel and announce, the misshapen heart is here, that's the pudgy head.

But nowadays and you'll never tell him this, when Jisung talks about you  like that, you almost believe it, believe in yourself and don't think he understands what it means to you, how grand that is  -  to imagine seeing your play come to life, something severely intimidating about watching it, spotlight gingerly kissing up the actors' newborn faces as the audience spews quiet comments, critics' expressions morphing with  nuanced understanding, the anticipation is tangible, the walls closing in by the second, tension squeezing the air out of their lungs -  until the curtains part and a story draws them into another world. Then everything falls into a formidable silence.The inexplicable feeling of being one wrapping its limbs around everyone and cradling them to its chest like a loving mother, awestruck strangers listening in on the heart wrenching dialogues, the belter of a riveting tragedy prompting their hearts to lurch forward and sit on their tongues, then they'll look around, spot bits of you in your characters and think I'm not alone. I never was.   (The people you've both never known but known your entire life.)

It's better to slip, to put everything on the line for the sake of making way to what you want on a feeling rooted deep inside your gut than to cower behind the fear of disapproval and have nothing at all. Being brave enough to tell your story is not the absence of that fear which keeps you, but it is telling the tale despite, toppling that fear.

There's something relieving about that theory.

 "I want to lie down..." You mewl, in spite of already lying down. It's a sign of how the constant toiling through exams was finally taking a toll on you, the sleepiness coupled with hours long lethargy from the party seemed to be weighing your body down, making your eyelids heavier by the second. He moves your hand, leaning into the light. A wash of colour is spreading  across his face for a brief moment, exposing the skin to scrutiny, all veins, curves and crinkles around his eyes. Jisung smiles at you. Your eyes dart all over his face, resting on the curve of his mouth briefly, then his eyes, you catch the yellow flickering in them , the brown turning to dark copper. 

Your heart drops to your stomach when he blinks away slowly, the disappointment assuaged by something foreign, dumb and utterly clichéd stirs in the pit of your stomach as his thumb briefly swipes across your knuckles,  "You don't say, sleepy girl!" Jisung scoffs, bringing his arm under his head.  

Unconsciously, entertaining the thought of staying alone in his room, you find yourself feeling safer because of his presence instead, divorced from prying eyes, "Thanks for staying." You say, wanting to talk to him more and more,  contemplating fashions  to contribute to the conversation again and again just to cut the silence.

"Well, you had a lot to drink." 

He reminds, as if the reason for his staying is that obvious;  worry laced in his voice and you understood why -   even though you aren't completely doused in a state of inebriation, you kept swaying all the way upstairs.

"But you missed out on.." you drag the consonant unintentionally, "all the fun, though."

"Do I look like I care?" Jisung snorts, staring up at the ceiling, leaning back on his hands and dropping down against the bed, he laces his fingers together over his chest, digging into his pocket and fishing out his phone. It isn’t a question.

His wallpaper is of a kid gazing up from the water, he peers up at the camera, grinning ear to ear. This is definitely Jisung. Because even with his front teeth missing, his smile is all too familiar. His cheeks were chubbier back then, face rounder, softer around the edges. Subconsciously, you rose a finger to poke at his cheek, as if to examine it. Jisung shoots you a glare.

"You were cute."

You coo, leaning onto his shoulder, the closeness should not intimidate you, given the amount of time you spend like this. But it does anyway.

"What do you mean were?” Jisung scoffs, “Nu-uh, still am. I'm the resident cutie pie, if you will."  He sings, narrowing his eyes briefly, thereon chuckling at the look of sheer disgust on your face. 

You wrinkle your nose, "I can't believe you just said that..." 

The rest of the night is spent in a comfortable quietude, except for the times when either of you perk up to initiate conversation and Jisung gives you aspirin for the throbbing migraine. 

Your shoulders are touching. Jisung breathes. Slowly. Then fast. Then slow. And then he tucks an earphone into your ear, it was an unspoken ritual you two practised when you were alone, oft in a different venue, sitting languidly about campus, while you read and he winked through the glaring sun to get a distant view of the landscape.

Jisung yawns, the grapple on his speech loosening and loosening.

You remain quiet, closing your eyes again. Words feel liquid in your mouth, letters wobbling on your tongue until you feel like you've lost complete control over what you're thinking of saying.

You can see the scene unfolding inside your head, can feel the earth under your skin, can hear birds chirping, can feel the dusty orange, morning glow kissing your faces. As if you're the only two people there. "Coldplay, right?" 

"Uh-huh..." Jisung replies, he sounds unsurprised by your aligned tastes. You look at him and find that he's mirroring you. His long lashes casting shadows on the apples of his cheeks, eyes clamped shut. 

"It's beautiful..." You murmur, dropping your head back against the mattress, you think Jisung hums in response but you can't be too sure. It's like you're slowly, slowly and slowly drifting far, far away. Letting slumber wrap its welcoming arms around you. 

For a second, you feel the weight on your shoulders lighten, you imagine that you're soaring, soaring, soaring, like you could look down and see the rivers and seas and lakes pulsing against the  Earth's body, as though they were a bundle of nerves belonging to a round, green vessel of a body, and somehow - then immediately, you're being pulled to your feet, at great speed, you're falling, falling, falling - so fast that you feel like there's a fire budding inside your lungs, budding under your fingertips, inside your heart. 

Then it begins.  This must be a dream, this must be a dream, this must be a dream. The soft murmur of scripted words. Parted curtains, an open window allowing you to stare in wonder, dusk stretching across the entirety of the landscape, blue, then pink. You think of the big sapphire sea, the warm sand and someone waiting for you before it.  You think, this is it. This is it. This is it. And run, run, run. Sprinting to the broadening view. You recognise the back of his head, the curve of his neck, tufts of raven hair fluttering about, his white cuffed shirt, his footsteps like a trail of breadcrumbs, feet dipped in frothy water, You call his name, surprised  but think I knew it, I knew it, I knew it all along. He looks back and smiles at you, offering you his hand. (You're not over him. You don't think you ever were. And this is what you want, you want it so bad, after all this time, are you going to hold back? Are you going to hold back? Are you going to hold back?)

Just for a moment, in the split of a second, just now,  just once, you aren't afraid. 

You jolt awake, the earphone straining against the sudden movement, "Hey." You whisper, looking up at him. His Adam's apple drops with a slow gulp, the rosy colour of his parted lips. The slope of his nose. You don't know when you  nuzzled your face into his chest, his long arm is draped around your waist, pulling you flush against his body.  Your heart is beating noisily in your ears, on your tongue. 

To your surprise, Jisung hums in response, eyes still clamped shut. You're so close, just so close, he brushes his slender fingers against the back of your neck, the touch feather light, as though reminding you that he had heard you. Your breath hitches inaudibly.

"Let's..." You say, with your tongue starting to limp inside your mouth, "go to the beach sometime."

...

A shower is running, loud, water gushing down and thumping against the tiles, the sound echoing and growing thinner by the second. 

You sit up on the empty bed, the recollection of last night lodged deep inside your head like a butcher knife. 

The realisation that you aren't at home isn't startling as you momentarily grow distracted in examining the room, the photos, the turntable, the white paint, the portraits, a light adjusted above, bits and pieces of a person scattered around.

Jisung's t-shirt is discarded carelessly on his reading table, your eyes widen when you acknowledge the occupant in the shower to be him, leaping up with a haste, everything comes back to you  with a force equivalent of pulling the butcher knife out and slamming it right back into your skull.

"It's you!" You gasp, partially  because the cheerful exclamation sends pangs of pain to your head, having made all the way to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, only to find Minho whipping up pancake batter in a bowl. As opposed to his old Instagram photos, with the new complementing pink hair, his feline like features are even more staggering, eyes narrowed to amused slits, behind which beady black orbs stare you down in absolute curiosity.

"Right, we met last night." He reminds you, uttering your name quickly, finding that you already recognise him. He holds the spatula up, paused in surprise as if he really wasn't expecting to see you right now, the position only eases when you wave your hands dismissively and say it's not what you think.

  He smiles, there's a strange disappointed quality to the demand."Sit down, let's have breakfast."

It's awkward, Minho spares you a few interrogating stares while you silently dig at your meal, the sound of cutlery and ceramic sounding through the open kitchen. You wish Jisung would come down already if the floor beneath your feet isn't going to open up and swallow you whole to save you from this discomfiture.

"They're really good." You nod, shoveling more of the unevenly cut portions of the pancake into your mouth.

"Do you still have feelings for him?" 

You choke, coughing on the gigantic bite, patting your chest as you slowly as you begin to regain your composure. Minho's eyebrows are weaved upwards, hinting that he expected an answer despite offering you water. God, he cut right to the chase, you aren't used to people as blunt as that. When you don't say anything, he blinks at you, tilting his head to examine the evasive expression on your face.

"He talks about you a lot..." He notifies, as though it was an explanation for something.  Minho's arms are crossed over his chest, proudly before announcing, "I think I practically know everything about you."

Funny, you could say the exact same thing about him. Jisung likes to babble on about people he cares about, which albeit is a handful, you are just as special as any of them. And that reminder as a consequence of his constant prodding makes you a little angry. 

"Look, he doesn't like me if that's what you're trying to say." You blurt out, you don't want to get your hopes up.  It's weird saying something so grave to someone you only recently  came to know. Having already accepted your one sided feelings even though you struggle to try to suppress them and the hopeful part of you reasons that Jisung probably didn’t initiate a kiss because you weren’t exactly sober — but the real reason, and you know this, is that his withdrawal last night was just cherry on top of the  big fat I-don't-feel-the-same-way cake. 

You made the mistake of ruining your friendship because of a stupid confession in the past and you aren't going to make it again, not when you're closer than ever now.

"That's not what I asked."  Minho comments. He is pretty great at appearing intimidating. Or rather, he sees right through you. You can't tell. But he's practically cornered you with his witty questions whilst his perceptive eyes keep an intent watch on you.  Minho had a curious  quality to him when he looked at things, he seemed to notice everything.

You laugh nervously, rubbing your nape when his gaze is practically unblinking in anticipating a reaction. 

"How was your Gimpo trip?" You digress.

 Minho's ears perk up, his eyes blown to big, happy circles, he nods his head excitedly, properly distracted from pressing the previous topic further. 

The conversation fizzles away in a haze, Minho rambles on in a cheerful tone, his eyes glossed over in enthusiasm. He speaks  of his three cats and asks you to commit their names to memory with a dead serious face, moving onto ramble on about his childhood, an entanglement of being the only child who dreamed laboriously of pursuing a career in ballet and succeeded. You listen attentively, not breaking your focus even when he gets up to do the dishes. 

By the time Jisung lazily drapes a towel around his neck, all the while hopping down the stairs, you feel like you've overstayed, digging your feet into the heels from last night while Minho holds the door open for you. 

"Need a ride?" Jisung asks, standing on his toe to look at you from behind Minho. 

 You shake your head, suggesting that you were to take the subway instead, keeping your eyes fixated on your sore feet as a reminder that you're opting for the alternative not by choice but because you don't have the energy to render Sunwoo an explanation of where you'd spent the night at with his constant teasing, Tightening the strap around your leg, while balancing yourself with the free arm, Jisung's long fingers quickly grab onto the underside of your arm, letting you balance your weight whilst posing the question, "You’re coming tomorrow for the group study, right?" You ask.

 It was an uncharacteristic gesture, outright surprising, because of his renowned proficiency in that class, when Jisung suggested that he didn’t understand the volume of topics you were going over.

Jisung glances cautiously at his best friend, who has a stupid smirk on his face for some reason, like he knows something you don't, “Yeah, yeah...” He says, reaching out to pinch your cheek despite your complaint. 

“Are you an alligator?” he calls out, prompting you to shoot a confused look over your shoulder.  "What?"

It's just one of those things Jisung says instinctively, his eccentric humour getting the best of him in silences and you, well, you walked right into this one. 

 "You know...cause I'll see you later!" 

In your peripheral vision, you spot Minho pinching the bridge of his nose at the quip, muttering a quick Jesus Christ.

...

During the day, the portrait is much more confusing. 

It's carefully placed on the paper covered floor, the room smells like fresh paint and sweat. Jisung suggested that you go paint shopping in the  pursuit of looking for a suitable colour to liven up his walls and the end of the semester meant you had enough time to put the purchased product to use. 

There is a blob of red on Jisung's jaw and the colour gets smudged all the way to his cheekbone when he makes an unsuccessful attempt to itch the skin with the back of his palm. You don't tell him this. 

"I bought it from the local display." He breathes out exasperatedly, the paint roller is placed on the paper, "The artist said it was about an unlikely romance or something like that. Looked pretty dope to me too and—"

 "I don't get it." You cock your head to the side and investigate the painting at your feet with an obstinate want to understand how it's supposed to depict love. Or anything that bears semblance to it, you never did have a good eye for art,  "It just looks like they slapped on paint."

 "Look here, dummy!" He slaps your pointer finger jokingly, grumbling under his breath.  Taking your palm and slowly splaying out the digits. Traces the rough pads against its silky texture, a map to somewhere, a blend of blue and pink, silhouettes reaching out for each other when the world intends to tear them apart. 

You sigh, contentedly and think this must be it; because never was love  meant to be understood. 

It was meant to be felt. 

...

"Why do you have that dumb look on your face?"

 Sunwoo speaks, chewing through his snack, his fringe is glued to his forehead in a thick layer of sweat. You aren't surprised. The humidity is skyrocketing. A cut in your salaries have made you compromise the use of your obsolete air conditioner. It's a terribly humid Sunday morning and you're getting ready for a trip to Minho's beach house.

It wasn't hard to convince you. Such was possible because Minho's offer was reiterated through a number of ways and people over the span of last week. Even from Sunwoo. 

He and the rest of the boys have started  to get along pretty well, so well that you often end up acting as an amused spectator, simply watching the boys cosying up to one another while you're effectively camouflaging in the background of utter silence. Your friends  teamed up to produce quips here and there, stopping to chuckle into their napkins, cheeks rubicund like ripe apples whenever you went out for dinner. It was becoming a regular occurrence, at this point. Not that you minded; you genuinely enjoy the time you spend together.

As a final move, Jisung reminded you of your slurred request of wanting to go to the beach, beating the purpose of you claiming you wanted to stay home doing nothing when really you were just looking to avoid encouraging how you felt for him. You constantly found yourself suppressing the desire to want more and the last few weeks had been the toughest because you had trouble ignoring how you felt although you were careful not to show it. Jisung was spending more time with you than usual since you were on summer break and were relieved of your studies for a short while. You couldn't forget that night at his place, the memory made your gut wrench in a desire you couldn't fulfill. 

But  while it was hard being around him, you just knew you couldn't help it.

The trip was, nonetheless, a reminder of how Jisung always gets what he wants, even if it is as easy as snagging his favourite items off of the super store shelf or something which demands  more patience to be possessed, something that needs to be drawn out with unwavering persistence.  

Come to think of it, you never really understood what it means to live like that. 

"What dumb look?" You ask, averting your gaze from your phone, twiddling your thumbs for a response to Jisung's text notifying that they were taking the lead on the journey by setting off earlier than you to set up the place.

 It won't take them as long as it will for you because it's a familiar premise for them. Your arm is starting to hurt from holding up your suitcase.

Sunwoo mimics a grin, stretching the corners of his lips awkwardly and flattening his lips like that of a frog, a string of dried milk sits on his chin to finish off the impression. He points to his face, "This one."

 "I don't know what you're talking about." You roll your eyes, "Hurry up. Jisung messaged me the location." 

Sunwoo nods, then pauses, then his eyes widen, a teasing grin making  its way on his face, insinuating that he finally understood why you packed chocolate cake last minute in spite of you not having a particular preference for the item. "Does he know you have a big puppy crush on him?"

Sunwoo makes up for your social ineptness, amongst other things, and there are times when you don't understand what you'd do without him, times when you're relieved he's your friend even though you're essentially opposites - now is, certainly, not one of those times, now you wish he wasn't so close to you  to have access to this information without telling. 

"Are you hearing yourself? I don't have a crush on him." You lie, glaring at him, when your flatmate ducks his head to display that he didn't quite agree, you groan, 

"I don't!"

…

"Do you take me for an idiot?"

Sunwoo pulls his sunglasses down to pretend to study you, his big brown eyes scrutinising you from head to toe.  The  strong stink of diesel is still emanating  in the air in spite of the image of the gas station being wiped out long ago in your peripheral vision. You kind of like it, it contributes to boosting the anticipation of what was to happen when you reach your destination .

"Oh absolutely..." Sunwoo says, driving in the direction of the beach house the GPS pilots him to, Lauv hums faintly from the dusty speakers, the familiar lyrics filling the air  whilst you unconsciously bobbed your head. The vague distraction allowed Sunwoo to buy time to gather his thoughts, 

 "You need to tell him how you feel before someone else does. You need to tell him how you feel, period."

“I'm not doing that again.” you warn him, he speeds down the highway, your beach hat threatening to fly about under the weight of your hands at the sudden gush of wind. "Need I remind you how it went last time?" 

"Last time was different." 

"How?" 

"You barely even spoke to each other!" He exclaims frustratedly, pointing out the obvious, "Now you're good friends and he seems to feel the same way considering he always puts up with you...like...voluntarily." Sunwoo mocks, looking at the corner of his eye to note that you're rolling your eyes in annoyance, "Maybe Jisung's out of his mind."

"I'm not that bad!" You defend, quieting down once again when the memory of your admission flashes before your eyes in vivid details - the years of distance and silence that stretched between you because of it was hard - if that were to repeat itself now, when you're more used to him that you were before, you don't think you could bear it.  Or maybe you could but you don't want to.

It's enough to just have Jisung around and not be yours than to lose him by admitting.

"I'm not putting us in that position again just because of how I feel. It's kinda selfish, don't you think?" Your statement has a touch of finality to it that shuts Sunwoo right up, he wordlessly pulls up in front of the huge beach house, another jeep and the Comet Convertible is parked; before which far off near the shore, you couldn't help but notice the two unfamiliar figures by the boys, one of them is wearing a bikini, standing incredibly close to Minho, who's setting up their small grill, the other (and it makes your stomach turn) is talking animatedly to Jisung, he nods and smiles in that way that makes you think you'll never quite stop loving him. Chan is holding up his phone to take a picture. 

 Sunwoo honks loudly,  pulling you out of your trance. You can hear the I told you so sitting on the tip of his tongue when he shoots you a look of pity. You don't like it. The way that makes you feel like a toddler who can't keep herself from sticking her fingers into electric sockets in spite of being precisely instructed not to. Now, you think, the ‘I told you’ so would've been much more agreeable to your pathetic but injured emotions.

Jisung snaps his head around fast, raising his lithe digits to the air, waving at you languidly.  The girl spectates the exchange in an engrossed fashion, slowly routing her inquiring  gaze to yours in thought. Not all that seemed black and white is black and white between you.

"Are you coming?" Jisung screams over the noise and distance, away from the spot you're completely frozen in.  

(A pang in your chest tightens. Tightens. Tightens.  And you don't want it to mean something. But it does. It does and it always will.)

...

Minho once learned to set up tepee fires in scout camp, with twigs, a small heap of leaves, wood shavings and loosely screwed newspaper in the centre. Now, he only prides his younger self for setting up the fire once in their backyard and decides roasting marshmallows on the grill demands less of the expertise that he's lost overtime.

"I've actually heard a lot about you before we met." Sunwoo garbles out, clearing his throat.

You've been ignoring Jisung ever since you arrived. Now the group is sat down on the sand, in a misshapen circle, the two girls, now you know their names and the root of their invitation - Junhee and Shoshanna are merely bypassers the boys met when they arrived this morning. They're on a weekend trip like you and their visiting resident is a few houses away from yours. You wanted to act on your peevishness  and groan out a loud What are they still doing here?  everytime Shoshanna took the seat beside Jisung or asked him to set her marshmallows but that would, amongst other things, make you look like a crazy jealous idiot who has no right to step into a situation of that sort, even though Jisung seemed hesitant, cautiously looking at you every now and then. 

Jisung's brows rise and fall, gaze darting between you and your flatmate, surprised, "Is that right?"

Sunwoo laughs, "Yeah."  He chews carefully, trying not to choke, as if the source of his knowledge doesn't need to be pointed out. 

"Only good things I hope."

Skeptical, Jisung glances at you with a cocked brow, in case you oppose but you avoid his gaze, glaring down at charred marshmallow on the tip of the stick and thinking of ways to strangle Sunwoo, who chuckles at the former's apparent doubt, furrowing his eyebrows in bemusement, "Only good things."

"You're on the varsity swim team, right?" 

 With a mouthful of food, Sunwoo poses the question, the grin only widens when Jisung replies with an equally enthusiastic nod. 

"Did you know that this one can't swim?" He points his marshmallow stick at you, keeping his eyes trained on Jisung's surprised face. "I tried to  provide assistance." Sunwoo insists, "But when someone is really bad around water, like screaming at the top of their lungs-I'm going to drown in a kid's pool- bad, it's quite a challenging task."

Minho produces an animalistic laugh at this, patting his thigh like he's rendered a vivid image of your embarrassing experience while Chan shoots you a concerned look, as if sensing an underlying tension in the air that the others can't. You don’t know which one you dislike more.

"I can hear you, you know!"  You scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. Suddenly having lost your appetite. 

Sunwoo widens his eyes, with a hand atop his chest, mocking you,  "Really?"

You open your mouth to continue bickering with him because it was the only way you could hold yourself back from jumping across the sand and grabbing him by his collar in case that should stop him from further embarrassing you, but Jisung  interjects, blinking inquisitively at you.

 Jisung pouts. "It isn't that bad, you'll see, we can go for a swim anytime. That's what's the pool for anyway."

"Sungie,  I could use a swim now. Can we go, please?"  Shoshanna piped up jutting her lip in a way that made her more attractive, she hooked her arm with Jisung, pulling him to her side and he simply blinked at her, surprised by the gesture. Only you called him that  —  when did she pick that up? Why doesn't Jisung seem to mind at all? Are you seriously seeing what you are definitely seeing?

 Without meaning to, you imagine them floating about in the water, while she curled her arms around his neck to keep balance and him leaning down to grin invitingly.  And it feels like you're losing something.

You feel yourself jumping up to your feet. The sudden movement gains the attention of all your friends except Sunwoo, who keens on sparing you the smug grin which insinuates that he sparked the entire conversation intentionally.  You hope the universe would miraculously  render you telepathic powers so he'd start to choke on the stupid marshmallow. 

"Uh...I mean...I gotta." You gulp, "I'm going to go grab a beer."

"Wait."

Jisung frees his arm to get to his feet, powdery sand dusted off of his sweats.

"I'll come with you."

You walk in silence, wrapping your arms around yourself. In your peripheral, you catch the sight of his pockets swelled around the area he stuck his fingers in, you don't think Jisung's ever been that quiet. It makes you feel guilty. You're acting out because you simply can't get a grip and it seems to have taken a toll on him. You want to punch yourself in the face.

 It's not like you desire to stand in the way of his merry-making, it had to happen eventually, right? Jisung is free to get involved with whoever he pleases. He doesn't know how you feel and even if he did, you don't think he would reciprocate. 

And despite everything, your heart still aches for him. 

"Why are you avoiding me?" Jisung  tells you. There's a sadness to his voice that supplies that you can't escape this conversation because you simply cannot stand it when something prevents him from being his happy-go-lucky self. But you can delay it. 

You pull the fridge open slowly, scanning the items, alcohol, milk and a few other things that are necessary to spend the weekend. They definitely were newly bought. 

 Jisung pushes the fridge door wider, sighing, he pulls a can and hands it to you. "If this is about the girls, I'm not-"

"You don't have to explain it to me, Sungi—I mean, Jisung." You stare down at the perspiration collecting between your fingers and  the can, then set it down immediately in fear of it slipping out of your hands. Jisung stiffens at the transition, a faint look of pain flashing in his eyes. What did he do that is so wrong? 

You feel horrible for making him feel bad, aren't you supposed to be an adult? Aren't you supposed to have a strong grapple on your emotions? This isn't good for the two of you, you don't want to hurt him because of how you feel, Jisung needs you to be his friend and you can't accept, even after so long, that that's all you are to him. 

 "I don't think we should be friends anymore."

"What?" He purses his lips, furrowing his eyebrows. "Why?" He provides, raking a frustrated hand through his hair when your mouth parted instead of giving him an answer. "Did I do something? You could have just talked to me about it but..." He muttered shakily, repeating, "Why...this?"

Jisung glares at you, he looks so clueless, angry, blatantly hurt and  it's such a selfish thing to ask of him, the least you can do is be honest with him, though you couldn't fight the annoyance from seeping into your tone because he apparently had not a clue. 

"God, don't you see it?!" You placed a warm hand against your forehead, "I'm...in love with you...I love you, okay?"

You start to panic when the tense expression melts into his  features, replaced by something you couldn't put a finger on, "Don't get me wrong, I don't expect you to reciprocate or anything. It's stupid, I thought I was over you but I'm…I'm not. And I can't...I can't watch you get on with someone who isn't me, especially when…" you trail, preparing to admit the truth to yourself once and for all, "...you don't already love me back. I can't...It'll hurt too much…" 

"So...I think...it's better for the two of us to not continue this friendship anymore." You gulp, your palms shaking by your sides, those words have been taking refuge inside you for too long and saying them makes you feel empty, like you've lost something that keeps you grounded and you'd be aimlessly floating about for the rest of your life. 

"I know I'm asking for too much…"

Jisung interrupts you with a wry laugh, the sound startling you. He never spoke to you that way, not even when you argued before.

"Yeah, you're right, you are."

"Well, I'm sorry."  You breath out. 

He leans closer so your hip presses against the cool counter. He drags his fingers from the exposed skin of your collarbone to your neck, tilting your chin up with his thumb while the remaining digits splay against  your throat, "Sorry doesn't cut it." 

 The kiss sends a chill down your spine, prompting you to straighten up from your slumped position. Your knees feel like jelly, like they could collapse any minute. Jisung deepens the kiss, grazing his teeth along your bottom lip, he props you up on the counter and you sense yourself wrapping your legs around his waist, tugging on to his hair to draw out a groan from him; touching him feels so surreal, even though it's a reminder of just how real everything that's happening is. 

"I…" he breathes heavily, "I love you. I'm in love with you. I didn't know what to do with how I felt and seeing you again...it just made me realise that I couldn't ignore it anymore. There were times when I couldn't help myself, I felt like I needed to see you when I couldn't, so I did, even if it meant I had to lie. I love taking care of you. I love our dumb inside jokes and I love the way we can't go long without talking. Hell, I love everything we do together." He chuckles, "But I didn't say anything because you told me you were over it. I... just assumed you were only interested in being friends with me." You don't think you've properly registered the sentences, maybe it's the suddenness of it all, maybe it's because you've never actually pictured this. You told yourself, this is how it's supposed to be, that Jisung was never supposed to feel the same. Just with that alone, you had axed your own foot, screwed yourself over more than anyone else did.

Jisung's face breaks into a sudden grin, he pecks your pouted mouth. "But I'm glad I was wrong." 

"Did you just kiss me?" You joke, touching his face, tracing your fingers against his cheeks, the skin glossy and pinkish under the touch, his pupils are blown to large black circles, the brown in them barely visible. 

"I don't know, did I?" Jisung deadpans, narrowing his eyes jovially. 

 He eases into the embrace when you slump against him in a tight hug. The chuckle comes out all muffled against the fabric of his t-shirt.

"Hmmm, can't be too sure."

You wrap your arms around his neck, it's like you just can't stop smiling. When you think about it, that's what being around Jisung was like, really. Your digits traverse from the side of his jaw to cup his cheeks, eyes peering into his. You watch as he blinks incredulously, there's something impatient about the way you look at him. Then you tilt your head and kiss him, gathering a faint taste of chapstick whilst your tongue prodded at his bottom lip. 

A low moan thrums against his chest, his mind failing to produce a single coherent thought. Because, God, he knows exactly what you're doing. 

This time the gesture is needy, desperate, as though to convey a strong desire to be completely consumed by him,  to be ruined by him. You raise your hips to brush against his lower abdomen, eliciting a low groan from his throat. 

"Baby not here." He breathes out, gauging your intention whilst resting his forehead atop yours. His palm traces the skin of your thighs, travelling up your sides, a free hand which rests at your neck coming to rest at your jaw. His delicate thumb journeys upwards, tugging your bottom lip out and then slowly retracting the digit. Somehow, the gesture makes his eyes darken even more, if that's possible. "Let's go upstairs."

You're so breathless and shocked and have your head stuck way  so far up  up in the clouds that the statement sounds imperceivable. "What?" You blink dumbly, with your hands on his shoulders.

A husky laugh made reverberates inside his chest, "We can’t...here."

As if on cue, you whimper needily at the weight of the implication. The thought of what is to unfold upstairs making your throat close up. You understood the purpose of his statement, the rest of the boys would soon gather into the beach house because it was getting dark soon, the sky was gargling its throat in the distance too, it would rain and neither of you were keen on PDA.

Jisung's teeth graze along your throat, his fingers around it to keep your head pressed to the door while your thighs are snuggly bracketed around his lithe waist. His need is apparent when he grinds up into your body. You're all but putty under his touch.

It's dark. But you can still make out how absent the room's paraphernalia is, just a bed which is stripped to the bare essentials of a white blanket and scratchy sheet, giving away the fact that visits aren't made too often. You don't care about all that though, Jisung pushes you back against the mattress, pulling his shirt over his head before resuming his position on top of you. 

You can't understand how you kept away from him for so long. 

...

Between your short, bitten and misshapen fingernails, the word Premiere reads on the tickets  in bold red slanted letters. 

You can't believe what was once a figment of your imagination, a rubbish script you wrote whimsically on too much caffeine and too little sleep was going to unfold right before your eyes.

It's crowded inside the subway, you stare at the heads, faces, shirts, jackets, arms and legs and your heart is beating too loud, like you ran a marathon or drove a sports car way past its speed limit, rammed it into a tree and flipped it over.

 All the world's a stage and all men and women merely players.

(You should be scared, you should be scared, you should be scared.)

 Delicate, lithe fingers quickly travel down your palm to squeeze the tense digits at the end, his free hand is rubbing circles on the back of your neck; you stare into those brown eyes and without really thinking, press a quick kiss to his pouting lips, it's difficult, he keeps grinning against your mouth but you pay little attention to those things now. 

"That was a good move, champ." Jisung winks briefly, tracing his thumb along your cheek as he nuzzles his nose against yours, "You always kiss people on the subway?"

You grin, with a slow shake of your head, "Just the hot ones."

(This is a stage. And the passengers are waiting. The Tale Of Two Cities. The couple. The mother. Like that nightmare you used to have. 

But, you think, it doesn't matter now. It doesn't matter anymore. 

Because you've got your silver lining.)