#universe is just a beautiful song ;u;

[lil-melody-moon]

U, 5 :D

Uneducated Democracy - Serj Tankian

Universe - Scars on Broadway

The Unthinking Majority - Serj Tankian

Unhappy Girl - The Doors

Unleash the Bastards - Municipal Waste

[swordheld]

hi! your blog is one of my favourites and i absolutely adore reading your thoughts. my grandfather recently passed away and it feels like i lost myself with him. how do i continue living after this? there is this constant weight on my chest and it feels like an emptiness has made a home inside of me. how do i go on when it feels like the world crashed on my shoulders?

hello, love! this is so very sweet and kind of you, and i hope you're treating yourself gently and kindly right now - there aren't words for a loss like this. that heaviness is difficult, and hard, and painful. it's okay if things don't feel okay, right now, or even soon - i think that's something that a lot of the people i know that have gone through similar grief feel: like they should be able to get back to a relative 'normal' in a [insert far too short period of time].

but it's okay if it hurts. that's where i'd like to start. you're allowed to feel that emptiness, that world-crashed feeling that goes beyond words, beyond time. don't feel like you have to rush this to feel some sort of better. things get easier with time, i promise you this, but sometimes painful feelings are important to feel, too. cry, scream, feel your emotions. they're a part of you. grieve.

it's perhaps a little silly, but when i think about death i always think about a couple of space songs: mainly drops of jupiter by train and saturn by sleeping at last. there are perhaps others that speak to the emotions better, but these two have always hit something a little deeper for me, and are popular for a wide-reaching reason.

and while personally i don't know much about grief like this, i do know a lot about love; and i think they're a lot of the same thing.

the people we love are a part of us, and this is why it takes from us so deeply when we lose them, because it does feel like we've lost a part of ourselves in the wake of it. but it's because they were so central to our experiences of living - our lives, that the separation introduces a hollowness - a place where they used to be. a home that now goes unlived in.

an emptiness, like you said.

but just because they're not here physically, doesn't mean he's not still there, in your heart, in your life, your memory. you can hold him close in smaller ways, as well: steal a sweater, or cologne/scent for something a little more physical and long lasting for remembering. hold onto the memories you cherish, the things that made you laugh, the ease of slow mornings and gentle nights. write them all down, slide a few photographs in there, go through it and add more when you miss him. keep them all close, keep them in your heart.

you're not alone, in this. he's still there, with you, it's just - in the little things.

he's with you in the way you see and go about your daily life, in doing what he liked to do, in the ways he interacted with the world that you shared with him. the memories you recall fondly when the night is late or the moment is right and something calls it into you like a melody, an old bell, laughter you'd recognize anywhere.

but i think, perhaps most importantly above all others - talk about him. with your family, your friends, his friends, strangers; stories are how we keep the people we love alive. the connections they've made, the legacies and experiences they've left behind, and so, so many stories.

how lucky, we are - to love so much it takes a piece of us when they go. grief is the other side of the coin, but it does not mean our love goes away. it lives in you. it lives in everyone who knew him, in the smallest pieces of our lives.

the people we love never really leave us, like this: they're in how we cook and the way we fold our newspapers, our laundry, in the radio stations we tune in to and the way we decorate our walls, our photo albums. they're in the way we store our mail, organize our closets, the scribbled notes in the indexes of our books. the meals we love and the drinks we mix, the way we spend time with one another. they've been passed down for generations, for longer than history - and we are all the luckier for it.

think about what you shared with him, and do it intentionally. bring him into your life, like this, again. whether it's crosswords or poetry or sports or anything else. if one doesn't help, try another. something might click.

i hope things feel a little easier for you, as they tend to do only with time. i hope you find joy in your grief, even if it is small and hard to grasp at first. know that your hurt stems from so much love that there isn't a place to put it properly, and that it is something so meaningful and hurting poets and storytellers have been struggling to put it into words and sounds that feel like the fit right for eons, and that it is also just simply yours. sometimes things don't have to make sense. sometimes they just are - unable to be put into words or neat little sentiments, as unfair and tragic as they come.

but i promise it will not feel like this forever. your love is real. and perhaps, on where to begin on from here - i think it's less on finding where to begin and just beginning. and you've already started. you've taken the most important and crucial step: the first one. wherever you go, after that, from here? you'll figure it out. you always have, and you always do. it'll come, as things always do. love leads us, as does light - and you're never alone in your hurt. in your grief, your missing something dear to you. i think if you talk about it with others, you'll find they have ways of helping you cope as well - and they have so much love of their own to spare, too.

as an aside, here is the song (northern star by dom fera) i was listening to when i wrote this, for no other reason more than it makes me think of connections, and love, and how we hold onto the people we love and how they change us, wonderfully and intrinsically. it's a little more joyous than the others i've mentioned, and plays like a story, and it made me think of what is at the core of this, love and stories and i am here with you, and maybe it'll bring you some joy, if you'd like it. wishing you all my love and ease 💛

[winepresswrath]

i will say ariana commits like no one else. "yes, and?" as a response to cheating on your husband with spongebob is gutsy. yes, and?" as a response to "you wrote and recorded this album about cheating on your husband with spongebob?" is transcendent.

[kindred-spirit-93]

DABKEH MY BELOVED!!!!!!

this video is one of my favourites ever, it so happens to be in my uni!

and this tiny desk gem i found! dancing on tables is a must lol

theres something so human about connecting with your culture. humbling almost? idk but i never feel more in love with my home and heritage than when i hear a very specific sound/ instrument (mijwiz)

[dollarstoreartsupplies]

i have been rotating a fem losers wicked au for weeks,,,, i have two hatchetfield wips im actively writing,,, ive reread three charlie bone books over the course of a week and really wanna finalize my designs for all of the characters,,, there’s so many pre-established fandom endeavors for me to pursue and yet,,,, here comes fucking ducktales with the steel chair

[s-4pphics]

the party. II (sevika + vi + abby)

SYNOPSIS: reddit: a place for thought-dumping and being horny WORD COUNT: 6.5K WARNINGS: sevika, vi, and abby play rugby(kinda minor plot tbh), oc is a crazy redditor and wears skirts, STALKING, 90% SMUT MDNI(dubcon + VOYEURISM!! + degradation + munching + mult orgasms + dirty talk + scissoring + fingering) recreational drug use/drinking, some cringe A/N: fuck it everybody finna be in this.... heyyyy guys another collab w lottie bc duh ART BY LOTTIE LOT I LOVE U DEAR @trackinglessons … also callback to scumbag!abby missing her bad a lil taglist :) @marvelwomenarehot0 @falrydyke @alittlextrahoney @professionalgirlk1ss4r

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller       3mi

are college parties always this wild??

[f21] omg hey guys i’ve been MIA… 

ngl i’ve been getting my shit rocked for the past 12 hours i see why ppl go on my strange addiction as therapy… i need to be publically humiliated so i can stop thinking ab sex. thats real conversion therapy…. anywho im outside the frat rn and uh it look lit n whatever but some dude jumped outta window from the 3rd floor n he might be dead idk i don’t have my glasses on lol he’s just laying there fr unbreathing …. he’s cute tho #FAKEGAY the line to frats r so long im literally freezing n im not near the entrance pneumonia incoming 

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller       14mi

finally inside…. i feel like im sneaking out for the first time😭😭 why do i feel so guilty like wtf is this a byproduct of being loved conditionally by family or sum idk whatever WE TURNING UPPPP 

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller       3mi

my girl walkedd up behind m e 2 kiss my che eeek and my other gi dl spanked me in front of every1…… i need to be spay

Quite familiar, squeezing hands land on your hips and your phone hits the sticky fucking floor and some bitch with stiletto pumps steps on your gahtdamn phone who the fuck wears —

“Where ya been?” The scent of Crown Royal nearly sends you into a frenzy — alfuckingmost, but your phone screen is still glowing bright and orange with your half-assed cry for help Vi is right fucking behind you

“Uhhh… oh y’know, explorin’, whatevs.” You try to kick your phone closer, but you just end up slipping on whatever substance dirties the floors. Your girlfriend catches you, though, as always — hollers, okay? Need some water? 

And instantly, you’re horny. You needa nut. You politely decline the drink. 

“Come smoke with us...” She proposes. 

The bodies that surround you seem to move in slow-mo. Us who? 90% of the soccer, football, and swimming teams are here getting gyrated on but, oh, wait… 

Sevika’s not in here… Or is Don Julio obscuring your vision? Is Don Julio a real person? A commander of the Crusades; A possible descendant of Julius Caesar. Hm…

Vi’s still waiting on your response. You use her expectancy as an excuse to bend over and grab your phone and you’re instantly disgusted. Your case clings to your fingers like glue. Instead of vomiting up all the poisonous liquids in your system, you accept it as a sign from the universe. Stop putting your fucking phone down! You clench your device in your hands. Shoulda brought a fucking purse. 

“YEAH!” You turn to scream to Vi… right when the fake ass DJ decides to skip to the next song. A large number of people glance at you in confusion. At least no one told you to shut the fuck up! 

Vi’s not embarrassed in the slightest. She laughs, in fact. She’s so endeared by you. Times like this are when you start feeling a little guilty for all the bullshit you’ve done. Just a smidge though. Still gotta get your rocks off! 

“Yeah?” She cheeses against your shoulder. 

“Yup!” 

… What are you agreeing to, again? Vi’s a love witch: she forces your train of thought into obscurity with her beauty. Don Julio should not be tampered with any longer! Electricity travels up your arm when her hand circles around yours to guide you out and onto the patio, through the glass door and yeah, they’re blazing out here. It’s loud as fuck. 

“SEV!” 

You follow the sonic of Vi’s shout and your legs forget their function when you see your location. 

Oh fuck. Wow. Okay fuck fuck holy fucking shit! 

Very large tall big bulky muscular women overtake your view. The whole fucking rugby team is out here puff-puff-passing; Nothing but tatted arms and girthy biceps made for hunting teeth and legs legs legs everywhere. Did Don Julio slice your throat in the name of justice or whatever the fuck your high school history teacher tried to lie to you about and sent you to heaven? Dyke heaven? 

28 eyes lock onto your cowering form, directly behind an unsuspecting Vi who waves, very lighthearted, very demure: meanwhile, war rages within you. The war of hormones and fertility and whore-ism—

“Hiiiiii���“

Vi’s so cute with her pink cheeks and slowly fading black streaked hair. Her pink is coming through, for sure! You should ask her if it’s natural. Seems to be so, truly, look at her roots! Barely even fried… 

Anything to distract you from the questioning looks being thrown your way from very attractive women. All 14 of them await your introduction and you’re really wishing Don Julio never spared your soul— 

“Who’s that?” 

A girl with freckles — lazily kicked back with a heavily tatted arm and beanie points at you, unsmiling. No one’s smiling, actually. You shrivel up and die right there. You’re only a shell now. Soulless. Your spirit’s flying around in search of a new muscular thigh to ride on. You’re forced to hold in a dreamy sigh at the memory: on your bed, both your thighs locked around Sevika’s one while Vi guided your hips from behind. 

“Don’t be rude! This is—“

Your eyes find Sevika’s while Vi fills in for you. Tinted red and trapped in delirium, but still Sev; her pupils scale all the way down your bare legs. Why does she look so good right now? Fuck your life! 

There’s a big ass bong in her heavily ringed hands. What’s up with her and compression shirts? It’s December for fucks sake! Is she not cold? You sure hope not because she looks mighty fucking good holy fuck— 

Find a distraction so you don’t hyperfixate on the invitation she’s so clearly throwing your way! Her lap is calling again, oh God, find something else quick quick quick! 

“—And this is Abby!” 

Oh. 

Distraction detected. Abby… Abigail Anderson! A complete and utter virginity-obsessed train wreck, but a hot one! Campus raves about her like they’re paid to do so; Everyone still gossips about what she did to that soccer player a few semesters back: took her virginity and ghosted her… and the streak continued until one of her bed posts smashed that same soccer player for revenge. Messy, messy. Sick work on everyone’s part. You love it!

Abby woulda really liked you if she’d got to you sooner. Vi and Sev touched you first. You’re probably all used up in her eyes. She’s gross for thinking like that. 

… Is it bad to say you’re kinda digging that? Just a tad! She looks so sweet and cozy where she sits on the lounge chair in a damn pink cashmere sweater! Who wears sweaters to a fucking rager! 

Abby stares at your legs with the same intensity as Sevika, “Nice to meet yo—“

“I’M A LESBIAN!” You shout. 

And the crowd goes silent. Bullet to the brain. Fuck Don Juilio! Sevika smiles, though. Abby laughs a little. “We all are, baby! Welcome to the winning team!” 

“HOOPLAH!” You exclaim, much louder this time. 

“… YEAH!” “WOO?” A few of their teammates whom you need so desperately attempt to support. Confused laughter explodes all around, and for the first time in your life, it’s not at you, but with you… you think! Just like that, their entire team relaxes in your presence… Don’t they? 

You love lesbianism! 

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller       22s

um… hey yall. one of my huzz keeps looking at me like she wants to get me pregnant but im sitting next to her friend… idk i think they’re friends they keep giving each other dirty looks… my hu keeps glaring at her whenever she touches or talks to me directly…. or am i tripping idk chile i might be contact high. maybe it’s bc she’s blonde idk i think ppl hate blondes irl 

anyway my sunshine is so cute when she’s drunk she’s like a big teddy bear…. i think. not gonna talk her punching some guy in the face earlier men deserve it. #MISANDRY

—

Vi’s eyes are on Sevika, but Sevika’s eyes are on Abby who has gotten very close to you on that couch, and her gaze is not inviting. 

No one would describe Sev as possessive. She’s the complete opposite; very free-spirited, go-with-the-wind-of-her-vape kinda energy. Hooking up with people that don’t dangle off her hip is one of her favorite pass-times. She’s okay with you being around, tagging along due to her phone never being blown with messages asking if she’s coming to pick you up for the party, or demanding to see her again, or begging for flowers, and she was thankful. You showed up to the party alone, got drunk alone, danced alone until both her and Vi searched to ensure you made it safely. You’re charming… in a weird way. 

Sevika finds it alarming how comfortable she’s become around you. She’ll admit it’s outta character — she’s not a people person, only clinging to those who’ve read and understood her deeply, and even then, it took ages to open up. She can’t help it, your eccentricity hoards space by force — you have your own little nerdy way of life but she likes that. Thinks it’s hot how little you care about being perceived… In some cases. There are moments where she can’t pinpoint where your mind wanders, and one of them is right fucking now. 

You’re pretty chill for the most part, but she knows her teammate isn’t, so why the fuck are the two so damn close? 

Abby’s naturally overbearing — your polar opposite, but you’re snuggled up like two peas in a pod: she’s all in your space, complimenting you, caressing your shoulder with care and ease because you’re allowing her to. Sevika’s track record isn’t the best — terrible, she’ll admit, but Abby’s could override the entire team’s history combined. She’s manipulative like that; lures people in with the scent of cherry blossoms and a smile that shines like crystals before devouring, staining her fangs in their blood. 

The two of them drifted apart some time ago, but it seems they’re the only ones aware of their covert friction. They challenge each other in silence on the field, in front of their team, even in front of Violet; Coach pinned it as petty jealousy of one another initially, but they’d both rather be shot dead than admit that. 

The scene plays out in front of a spectating but frazzled Vi. She adores both of her friends and loathes their disdain for each other, but when you put two domineering personalities together… this is what you get, she supposes. Their falling out was never grasped by her; one second they’re fine, the next they’re not, like an old, married couple. Sevika and Abby are usually able to keep their secret animosity under wraps so their coach refrains from questioning, but Coach isn’t here. Just bud and liquor and you. How could someone with so little understanding of human nature have this much control? She’s got no option but to respect it — what power you have. 

Abby’s eyes move in an instigating triangle; from you, to Vi, to disgustingly smug at Sevika, then back to you. What the hell is she playing at? Vi catches Sevika’s gaze for a blip, and Vi, with a silent plea, shakes her head no. 

Please don’t start. Please don’t just leave them be, she’s fine—

But her eyes shut in defeat when Sevika rises from her lone spot, jaw cinched tight when she approaches the two of you.  

“HEY-O, Amazonian lesbo!” You sing-song between chattering teeth and jumpy legs. Sevika can’t stop the smile that puffs her cheeks. Poor thing, you must be freezing. 

“Captain.” Abby greets with an arched brow and a tilt of her head while she pets the back of your neck. Incredibly mocking, and Sevika’s instantly annoyed. 

“‘Sup.” She greets short and stiff before redirecting back onto you, “Cold, babe?” 

“I’m freezing!” Sevika extends a hand, and you accept her warmth graciously, already being pulled from your seat, “Where the fucks the food!” 

“No food, hon. Vi has Ritz. Go eat.” 

“More like… Vi has the shitz!” You expel through wheezed laughter. Abby snorts from behind. 

“HEY WHAT THE FUCK NO I DON’T— “

You laugh all the way over to Vi, leaving Abby and Sevika to mentally strangle each other in silence. Abby kicks her feet on the small table in front of her, arms extended on the back of the couch. 

“She yours?” The blonde jerks her head in your direction, shoveling crackers down your throat while Vi rubs your back and observes them with caution. Abby sends her the toothiest grin. “Never seen you so in love. It's cute.” 

“I’m not fucking in love, I just met her,” Sevika attempts causality, shoulders raising in nonchalance with her hands shoved in her pockets. 

“So what’s the fuckin’ issue, babe?” 

Sevika hisses, “You as usual. Leave her the fuck alone.” 

“Or what." Abby smiles, and Sevika’s tempted to beat her face in, but she refrains; Vi will hate her til further notice. She throws her one last threatening glance before leaving Abby to obnoxiously laugh alone. When Sevika reaches you, she removes her jacket and wraps you in it. 

She bites down a laugh when you shove your nose in the sleeve and sniff. She guides you inside, Vi trailing close behind. 

—

“You seriously took a shit at a party?” You mock while you untie your shoes. 

“Shut the fuck up, no I didn’t,” Vi shuts — and locks oooolala — some random pedestrian’s bedroom door before leaning back against it with folded arms. The walk upstairs was hectic; if Sevika wasn’t there to lead you all the way up the stairs, you woulda been trampled. The later it gets, the wilder the party becomes and to be honest, it’s scary down there. Too many people throwing up and trying to crowd surf!

“Rate your first party, babe. You look like you had fun.” 

You fall onto the large, unmade mattress. You really hope cum doesn’t stick to your dress because don’t people fuck at parties? Or was that another movie myth? “I did… But I couldn’t find anywhere to pee and I think somebody was grilling hotdogs on the pool table—“

Your rambling diverts your attention, and Vi’s glad for it. Sevika’s seething from where she sits on the rolling chair across the room, pins Vi where she stands with scalding pupils. Sevika’s infuriating to deal with when she’s like this; faded and bothersome and jealous. 

“—Yeah, I dunno, very fun though, despite the death.” You conclude, and their staring contest breaks for a second. 

“THE WHAT—“ “HUH—“

“Yeah, crazy, I dunno if the cops were called or what but… yeah… OH, and I made a new friend!” 

Vi stiffens when Sevika grills lowly, “Oh, did ya? Who?” 

“Abby Anderson! Who'da thunk, right! She’s so nice and—“

“Abby, huh?” Sevika interrupts, eyes locked on an excited you. Vi silently begs you to shut up. 

You nod with enthusiasm, “Yeah! Y’know those rumors or whatever don’t do her justice, she’s funny as fuck! Not mean at all!”

Sevika scoffs silently. Pulls her vape out her sports bra. Hits it with an attitude unbeknownst to you. You’re really trying not to salivate. “That’s not your friend… you know that, right?” 

You glance at Vi in confusion, but she stares at the floor with a tapping foot, “What do you mean?” 

She finally sighs. Here we fucking go. 

“Exactly what I said.” 

“… m’really fucking confused, right now. Why don’t you think we’re friends —“

“Because you’re not.” Sevika finally snaps, and you wince. She watches you stammer with blades for eyes. Is she really mad at you right now? “She’s not your fucking friend. You’re getting too fuckin’ comfortable.”

“I dunno if we’re friends either, if we bein’ real,” She gestures between the two of you, and your entire rib cage shatters from the pulses in your chest. Water builds in your ducts. “We’re… what d’ya mean we’re not friends?” Your throat dries around tears that may or may not flow depending on her answer. 

She huffs, “I don’t think friends do what we do, baby. That’d be pretty fucked up, wouldn’t it?” 

She’s playing with you. She has to be! You’ve grown so close in the past… 14 hours! Your sheets are proof of your inseparable bond! Sevika likes you just as much as you love Vi! She does she does they both do!

“I— I’m…”

“You’re what.”

“Sev, ease up, c’mon…” Vi interjects quietly, stares in displeasure. Defends you like a knight, and your tears finally fall. From overstimulation, from sadness, from gratitude? You don’t know but it’s too much. You wipe your face and salt soaks your wrist. 

Sevika finally looks at you, still upset, “Stop crying.” 

“I’m not crying, my eyes are peeing.”

“Jesus fucking—

Vi huffs pitifully before ushering to stand in between your legs and thumb to at your wet cheeks, every glide from her rings freezing your tears in place. Every cell in your body is prepared to confess their devotion to her. 

“Relax,” She hushes before her tone drops to a whisper, “She’s being fucking stupid right now, ignore her.”

“Shut up.” 

Vi ignores Sevika and pecks your nose before both your cheeks, and your heart explodes into some warm, gooey substance. Feels like slime. Pink, glittery slime. She plants two extra smooches on your forehead and chin just to be safe, and your smile stretches for miles in result. A fat one gets smacked onto your lips before they rest by your ear. The sludge in your chest instantly burns red hot and thin. 

“Let’s cheer her up.” She whispers so lowly you can hardly hear. 

“What’re we gonna do?” You say louder and Sevika snickers at your failed secrecy. Maybe she’s not upset anymore? 

“Think you can take dick?” She purrs on your throat. 

“Like… like, whatchu mean? Take a dick where—“

“The fuck are y’all talkin’ about?” Sevika husks around one last puff before laying her robotic spliff on the desk. 

Vi’s head whips to face Sevika, “I’m settin’ us up. Say thank you, Violet.”

“Fuck you, Violet.” Sevika sasses.

“You might if ya fuckin’ behave.” 

“Can I watch?” You snort ecstatically. 

2 pairs of blank stares are thrown your way. You cough awkwardly, “Uh, so about this dick thing—“

Vi rubs the bridge of your tickling nose with a comforting finger, “I wanna see how much you can take if you’re down.”

“I can take a lot mentally, so I’m sure the same translates physically.” 

“Yeah, okay.” Sevika wisps snarkily. 

… That hurt a little. All you dream about is taking strap! What happened to following your dreams? How could they ever question your aspirations? You look past Vi, right at Sevika.

You want her to like you again! You like being liked! If this is what it takes, then so be it! You’re never drinking again after tonight, so you might as well use your courage for good! You don’t even know what you’re saying but Sevika’s just as surprised as Vi… Maybe it’s working? You can’t really tell. 

“You can obliterate my, uh… um… my vagina walls as an apology… or something like that. Sorry for talking to Abby. I promise I didn’t think anything of it. I—ACHOO— sorry… I’ll take your dick, Sev. In my throat if ya wanna, or whatever. Coochie…” You shrug in suggestion, “Uhh, yeah. Do you accept my apology?”

Silence sets in the small space before Sevika explodes into laughter. Vi laughs so hard she falls face first on the bed, and you do stare at her ass. She’s wearing cargos! You sneeze again. 

Sevika wipes her eye, “Can I get that in writing?” 

“Write in this pussy… and whatnot?” 

“Make sure to say whatnot when you cum on me.” 

“Oh wow, okay, sure.” Whatever gets her going!

“Take that dress off. ‘S got Abby germs.” 

You smile… and sneeze. 

—

Life is great. Wow. Bless up for sure. You and Vi’s cooters are inches apart. You’re naked, she’s naked, and Sevika isn’t but she’s watching very closely from where she kneels at the edge of the bed and your thighs tremble from anxiety!

Your girlfriend’s fucking perfect; so scarred and strong and tatted and built. When you shakily peeled her tank off, almost-healed teeth marks rested in between her tits and trailed all the way down to her hip bones. Ouchie… You wanna do that to her!

Sex in porn can only train so much before you’re forced to get out and smash on your own. You’re a pro watcher, but in real life… You’re slacking, let’s say that, but neither Sev or Vi have made you feel bad about your clumsiness. You haven’t had the privilege to touch either of them due to their determination to teach; experiment on you for their own research, study you, but you hope to change that soon. Vi touches you like you’re married, and you wanna do the same; you don’t think she’s in love with you yet but she also could be. Her hands would be nowhere near the porn industry. They’re too delicate, not demanding or crude or evil — you’ve seen some crazy shit on the web, good heavens. Forever traumatized. 

Her hands are tender where they stroke your chest. She can probably feel your heart beating in her palms. Right through your titty meat, how embarrassing. 

Then she starts giggling like an angel call the fucking ambulance before you go into cardiac. 

“You seeing ghosts?” She coos. 

“Nope, just God.”

“I didn’t even do anything.” 

“Don’t have to. I’m dead already. Thanks, uhh, internet.” 

“Oh yeah? You’re dead?” 

“… Yup.” Your voice drops a heavy amount when she takes your limp hands in hers. She extends them up her torso until they rest over her breasts, pressing your hands down so you can squeeze. Aneurysm incoming it’s hitting in your brain—

“How’s that feel, Casper?” 

“… Oh, gee wiz!” You squeal. 

Vi cackles with her head thrown back, “You’re so fucking cute, I’m gonna bite you!” You laugh with her even though you’re on the brink of death for the 40th time tonight — someone save you, you’re begging! 

“I like how your hands feel.” 

“I like how your tits feel.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yup.” 

“Yup,” She snickers and leans down so your titties smash together, “Gimme a kiss.” 

Your lips pucker playfully, and she pecks them. Licks them a little and you grin. “I can’t wait to stretch you out,” Her voice melts in your ears and you shudder beneath her, “Gotta make sure you’re ready.” 

“Be honest,” you whisper, embarrassed, “Is it gonna hurt?” 

“You want it to?” 

Your eyes meet the wall, “… No comment…”

Sevika chuckles while Vi comforts, “You’ll be fine, baby. We gotchu, okay? We’ll take it easy and go from there.” 

“A-Are we about to scissor?” 

“Uh huh, you excited?” 

“Yes,” you groan. 

Sevika caresses your sweaty forehead and your heart soars so high that it splatters on the ceiling like a gunshot wound, “You wet enough? Need some head first?” 

“M’okay… wanna feel…” 

“Then ask her nicely,” Sevika nods towards a smirking Vi. Her head tilts, awaiting, and you’re instantly reminded of Abby. She did that whenever she patiently waited for your response to her curiosity. Thank God Sevika can't read minds. 

“Violet…”

“Yes, baby?” 

“Can I… can you, uh…”

What would a pornstar say what would a pornstar say 

“Want me to fuck you til you cum?” She hums on your cheek and your heart thrashes in your chest. 

“Yeah… want that.”

“Then ask me.”

“Violet…”

You feel her smile, “Yes, baby?”

“Can you fuck me until I cum, please?” 

She plants a doting kiss on your cheek before separating from you to sit on the mattress with her knees pointed towards the ceiling, “Course I can. Sit up, babe.” 

You follow like a klutz but you’re here and her pussy glistens right there and so does yours. It takes you a second to replicate her guidance, but you’re eventually comfortable; the two of you resting back on your palms, your legs spread far enough for Vi to sit comfortably in between, one leg crossed over yours. Your cooters are nearly high-fiving! You can see her clit jump! 

“Gonna go slow, okay? Just do what I do,” She whispers, and you nod. You’re trying really hard not to stare at her pussy but it’s right fucking there in all its glory! It’s right there! Will she let you eat it one day? Will Sevika—

Your brain screams bloody murder when Vi closes the space between your nethers. 

—

Sevika prides herself in being patient. 

When something is foreign to her, she waits. Regardless of how dire or stressful a situation becomes, she’s often able to resolve it with stealth. She takes her time to plan and organize because it holds her hectic life together, and if that’s lost, so is she. It’s in her nature to be observant. It gets her answers, solves the riddles that wrack in her mind with ease all because she watched and waited. 

That attribute could be the reason she allows you to remain a mystery. You waltzed into her life by accident and now she’s stuck wondering what it is you want from her, her best friend; a relationship? A dirty secret? It hasn’t been that long. You're still a stranger, after all. Call it an obsession; she still has trouble wrapping her head around what allures her to you. It’s a desire she has trouble describing. You're really, really weird, but somehow that makes you one of the most attractive people she’s ever met in her life. 

You being on the brink of your second orgasm while her best friend practically rides you isn’t what entrances Sevika. There’s something about your character; you’re so blunt and comfortable and trusting. She would never allow herself to be as unguarded with a stranger as you are. There’s something something something that she’s determined to pull from you, prick from your brain. 

Why are you really here?

Please, baby, oh fuck, yes —

Vi begs when she takes and you beg her to take and Sevika thinks you’re a match made in heaven. She watches the two of you close up, dangerously personal. How your urges force your bodies against each other; you push when Vi pulls and pulls when she pushes. Both your thighs are soaked with each other and Sevika would kill to be in between them. 

Structure. You and Vi are combative in your own right and Sevika mediates your tension. It’s perfect. You fit in between them so well, slid between them like butter. Why would anyone come in and jeopardize that?

Her spirit slams back into her body when a soft hand curls around her wrist; there’s barely any pressure, a bit insecure, and she knows you’re nervous. Your eyes are on her, the pleading in them almost louder than your exclamations of satisfaction. Are you still mad at me? 

For talking to Abby. Sevika should say yes — the ruthless part of her wants to so you’ll work harder, but she swallows it. The stare she gives you is hard, and your hand squeezes tighter on her. Sevika being mad makes you wetter, she can see it with every glisten between your legs. You look like you’re boutta cum again. 

Fucking Abby… Always prepared to wreck something that’s perfectly made for her. 

You were so quick to take both of them… Would that have been the case for Abby, too?

Okay, Sevie? 

She immediately softens at Vi’s breathless inquiry, and she nods. Keep going. 

Vi arches a brow with a suggestive smile. 

We’re gonna cum for you, baby. Talk us through it? 

Those eyes… Vi’s greatest weapon. How could Sevika ever deny her?

She never will, so she moves. Stands from the floor to climb in behind Vi because she’ll always be first and she’s mad at you; a vengeful hand encloses around her best friend’s throat while she whispers the filthiest shit in her ear. Calls her a slut before kissing her like she loves her. Tells her to fuck you harder. Show her who she belongs to. 

Sevika’s tongue gets loose when she finds your gaze. You’re a fucking mess; the glitter on your lids melt down your fluttery eyes like tears. Your pupils are so apologetic and blown and searching for acceptance but she ignores you, and she thinks you might cry but she wants you to. 

You want Abby so fucking bad? She’s right downstairs. Why would you waste your time up here? Obviously we don’t give you enough. 

Sevika only says it because Vi’s distracted by her own euphoria, eyes dislodged in her skull with drool rolling down her cheek from how good you’re fucking on her, but Sevika takes care of it with her tongue. She should be watching Vi, but she watches you, cautiously eyeing the two of them like a frilled rabbit. She’ll rip you to shreds if you give her the chance. Any sign of weakness and you’re hers to tear apart, just like that. Limb from limb. She craves you. 

Can’t take it, baby, ‘s so sensitive, Vi whimpers up at Sevika with her nails in your thigh, and Sevika kisses her forehead to soothe. Tells her it’s fine. Tells her to scoot over because she’s got you. 

Vi doesn’t go too far. Slides in right next to you, actually. Your legs shake and your fingers curl around the mussed blanket. Sevika crawls to you, and you flinch when her hands latch onto your thighs. Your eyes are the same, but frantic. Please, don’t hate me, please please please. Your little sneeze is the icing on the cake. 

Her grin is sinister. Excitement radiates off you. 

Vi kisses your cheek and slides a sneaky hand down your torso, past your tummy and hips, touches right where you need it most, and your jaw slacks when she spreads you open for Sevika. Vi nudges your cheek with her nose, gets you to face her so she can kiss you, all dazed out and sloppy. 

Such a good distraction. 

A thick finger breeches your walls without warning, and you squeal into Vi’s mouth while she rubs your clit to pacify. Sevika has learned you pretty well, she thinks; knows exactly where to press to get your thighs clamping down on her wrist. She moans when your tightness chokes her; so slippery and aching and desperate on the inside. It matches your exterior perfectly. Your pussy’s begging her to give it to you. Nice and hard. 

So she slides another one in; Vi can barely kiss you because you’re so loud so she tongues at your throat. Sevika knows you’re close; she can feel it, how hard you attempt to drain her, riding that edge. 

Gonna take this dick like a good slut when we get home? She purrs. 

Yes, Sevie, yes yes yes!

Sevika gathers spit in your mouth and it splashes all over cheeks and nose and mouth. She scoffs a laugh when your fingers lace through her slobber to greedily shove in your mouth, Atta girl, get me nice ‘n wet, feels real good, huh? Show me how much you love when I’m inside you. 

More thoughtless bouts of pleasure are forced from you before Vi presses an aiding hand on your tummy. Sevika’s entire forearm is drenched in your scent, body knotted up tight as you thrash and cry and scratch all over Vi until red streaks down the side of her. She licks your tears from your cheek while your head hangs off the edge of the mattress and all Sevika can think about is making you keep your promise; taking her deep in your throat, hot and snug while you choke and slobber all over her. 

They’re so hypnotized by you, the door opening hardly shakes them. 

“Well, well, well!” 

Everything stops… Well, except you, you’re still cumming… and Sevika’s still fucking you… and Vi hasn’t moved either. Maybe nothing stopped.

“Got all your dogs on a leash, don’tcha Cap?” Abby whistles from the door that was very much so locked. Abby’s seemingly unbothered by you on the brink of a second orgasm, your hand attempting to push Sevika’s body off yours, but Vi holds your wrist down. 

“Hiii. How’d ya get in?” Vi questions while she shushes you, and Abby dangles a key off her middle finger. “Ellie sent me to get a bong replacement!”

“You live here now?” Sevika demands in annoyance. Fucks into you deeper. Smirks when you start wailing when she hits that spongy spot. 

“I don’t. Ellie does. She just lets me in when she’s feelin’ lonely… You guys, too, evidently,” She gives you the filthiest stare, “Hey, dollface! Havin’ fun? I could hear you all the way down the hall!” 

“Oh, God, Sevie, ‘m cumming again!” 

“Yeah, ‘m sure you are,” Abby rasps and Vi giggles, “So, what, is she the team’s new communal pussy or somethin’?” 

Vi tuts, “No… we’re just showing her how to do it herself.” 

Abby squints skeptically, “… Riiight, right…” 

Vi doesn’t catch the look Abby throws at you, but Sevika does, and she almost chucks one of your shoes at her face. A hyena preying on the injured. She can hear the devilish cogs turning in the blonde’s head. 

“Don’t be like that, Abby, c’mon… friends in need?” 

Abby smiles, “In need alright—“

“A-Abb — Y?”

Abby takes that as an invitation to come a little closer. Too close for Sevika, but you don’t seem to mind, “Yeah, honey, I’m here. Big meanie Sev’s doin’ ya in right?” 

“Fuck yes—“

She hums scoffingly, “Uh huuuh, looks like it, make her proud—“

“Can you get the fuck out!” Sevika shouts, and you and Vi flinch. She sends Sevika a harsh glare. 

“Jesus, calm the fuck down! Look,” Abby points at your fucked-out expression, “She likes it. Gamer freaks love this typa shit. She probably manifests having orgies in her diary.” 

Sevika sighs in irritation and she pulls out before sitting back on her heels, silently taking in how your slick glues to her fingers, and you almost start sobbing but Vi comforts you. Kisses you quiet while she holds you close, whispers encouragement in your ear while you whimper. Abby takes the chance to ease in close to Sevika, right beside her, eyes gawking at her dripping fingers. 

“Look, Cap, ‘m not the one to judge, but,” She shrugs, whispers right in her ear, “to put it light, she’s a desperate fucking loser, and what I’ve learned is that they love any bit of attention they can get. Makes ‘em feel good. You shoulda seen her earlier. She was almost in my lap ‘n all I had to say was she looked nice.” 

Sevika scoffs, but she finally meets the eyes of her conniving teammate. She’s plotting; It’s in her smile. Abby nudges Sev’s arm with her own, “C’mon, let her have this. She’ll be a fucking vet in her little Discord servers. Make her a star.” 

“You fucking disgust me.” Sevika says vehemently. 

“Doesn’t look like it, Captain.” Abby scales down Sevika’s body and back up until she meets her eyes again. She’s wound up so tight and Abby’s drinking it all in. “C’mon, for old times sake.”

Abby nearly gets strangled right there. Old times sake: chasing girls together, fucking them together, whatever else they did that she wishes she could forget, but it’s her history just as much as it’s Abby’s. When Sevika denies her an answer, she snorts in annoyance before moving to sit on the edge of the bed, thigh right beside your head. 

“Hey, baby, can ya look at me?” You take direction like a dream when you’re fucked out, eyes teary and face warm to the touch. Abby’s convinced you’d do anything to get on her good side at that point. 

“Can you take some more? I think you can take some more,” Before she can even finish, you’re consenting, “Yeah, I know you can, such a sweet girl.” 

Vi shudders with you, eyes glossy where they watch her, and Abby smirks down at her, “You are, too, as always.” The blonde gets her blushing. 

She looks over to Sevika with a hand shielding her mouth. She whispers with a finger sneakily pointed at Vi, “I think your girl wants me, Cap. Still gonna kick me out?”

Sevika is prepared to say yes, but she catches Vi with her lip jutted, silently begging to let Abby stay while you tremble next to her. She exhales so hard it sounds like a snarl. Abby smiles. 

“Do some shit I don’t like and I’ll fuck you up,” Sevika threatens, and Abby rolls her eyes. Sevika should know that she’s the last person to try and intimidate. She loves that; she’ll simply have to up her riskiness. Her finger blindly points at Ellie’s messy dresser. “There's some crazy shit in there, Sevie...” 

Sevika sighs before standing tall to head to Ellie’s drawers. Her laundry isn’t even folded, just slung on top of the cheap wood, “‘m sure you’d know, fuckin’ dirtball.” 

“Don’t flirt with me.” Abby’s heat wafts onto Sevika and she knows she’s behind her. Before Sevika can reach for a drawer handle, her wrist gets submerged in cherry blossom and red fingernail polish. 

Her tongue loosens to cuss her teammate out, but Abby whispers before she can try, “Can’t leave evidence… Ellie’ll get mad at me…” 

Sevika’s frozen; pink lips enclose around her fingers that drip and soak and smell of you. Abby swirls her tongue around the length of them, sucks them clean for her. “She taste good?” Sevika hums, and Abby sucks greedily in approval. 

A tight moan rings from the bed and their eyes hunt for you and Vi. Abby gives Sevika one last kiss on the tips of her fingers. Vi’s on top of you with her hand gripped tight on your neck while she orders you where to touch. Your hand labors between her legs, sloshing deep in her wetness while she curses in your mouth. 

Abby’s sly; takes the leap while Sevika’s distracted to drop to her knees in front of her, fingers already latching onto the fabric of her leggings. She hisses when a braun hand tugs at her hair, redirecting her gaze upwards. 

Sevika’s breathes unsteadily. “You lock the door?” 

The blonde sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. Sevika’s grip tightens when Abby’s head shakes in denial. 

[octoberautumnbox]

Orange-Tinted Sunset

Kiss of Life Belle & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: fluff, smut, angst, mentions of alcohol n bein drunk, technically not cheating but also sorta close enough idk u be the :jujj:

Word count: 2.6k

a/n: another prompt fic! based on kiof's Nothing i swear im on hiatus lmao but here it is! thanks to @mintwithchoco for prompt and hosting! as well as @sinswithpleasure for beta and @0cta9on for saying i was good at everything so i crode strove to prove em wrong lmao

~~~

The nightclub spun around you, the alcohol clouding your thinking and doubling your vision. A strange feeling set in–you really were a guppy in a small pond. Whatever roaring applause you got from the crowd after that impromptu karaoke bout was nothing compared to the girl that came next. You can’t even work up the energy to be mad; her voice is the single most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard, flowing through the air and filling up every silence in the world, and it doesn’t help one bit that everyone else thought so too.

Her name, just her name. You wouldn't mind going home with nothing to show for the whole weekend as long as you knew what she was called–you have to know. Against every single ounce of common sense you have left, you walk up to her, calling in every favor from the universe you’ve saved up until this point. “H-hey,” you stumble, clearly more nervous than you should be. 

She turns around, and as her hair settles onto her back, she replies, “Oh, hi. Can I help you?” Her smile lights up your world, and you gain confidence and lose it again just as quickly. She’s gorgeous too, and how could you live with yourself if you fucked up with a girl like this again? 

And you realize you’re staring. “Hi,” you start again, “sorry, I, uhh, you killed it up there. Best I've heard in a while.” Pardon yourself for the understatement; she was exceptional. Stop yourself from saying more; she’s probably already heard everything you want to tell her. 

All she does is giggle in response, and you swear you’re face-to-face with a goddess. You slip, so just fall deeper and remember to blame the alcohol later on, “I mean it. You’re like nothing I’ve heard before. Can I ask for your name?” 

Her face sours almost imperceptibly, but your nerves don’t let you miss it. She holds back a grimace, but ultimately, she replies, “It’s Belle. Sorry, is that all? I have to go soon.” She shifts in her chair, no doubt trying to escape the situation, and it dawns on you you might look worse than you feel. 

“Y-yeah, that’s all. I actually wanted to buy you a drink, maybe. One musician to another. You were amazing.” Your voice holds together for the most part, but it doesn’t change her demeanor. 

“Thank you, it’s just…” she hesitates, breathing deep, “whatever this is, I don’t want to get involved. You’re nice, but I just… I can’t handle anything else right now.” The discomfort leaves her features as a quiet sadness replaces it. You’re no expert, but even a dunce like you could tell she was tired more than anything else. 

“No worries, I respect it. I’ll leave you alone.” It’s strange how you feel the lightheadedness drifting away and your senses coming back, almost like you’ve saved up quite a bit of good karma to ground yourself like this. Debatable, but you still have enough sense in you to offer, “Here’s my number, no hard feelings if you throw it away. I at least wanna buy you some nachos tonight as thanks for that gorgeous song. Good night, Belle,” before paying for them and ultimately heading for the door, above all trying in vain to forget about her. 

~~~

It’s familiar in two ways, being hungover at noon, sitting in a restaurant too fancy for what you’d ever typically be found dead in. On one hand, it reminds you of one of the best days of your life–your beloved sat across from you in a simple floral sundress while you shared a brunch of French toast and orange juice. 

“Thanks for coming out,” Belle said in a tiny voice, “I'm sorry about last night. I want to get to know you better.” She offers you a pancake, and once you accept she deposits it onto your plate, followed by a just-right helping of maple syrup. 

You try to avoid sounding humble, but there’s no other way to put it. “There's not much to know, really. I just came here on a whim. Needed to get away from it all, broaden my horizons. Us singers just gotta, you know? If I didn't, I'd never have found you.” 

“I hear you. I'm here to take a step back too. Things became too much to handle recently,” she relates as she takes careful bites of her cereal. For the first time since last night, you see each other's eyes, and a kindred spirit in you pulls on your heartstrings. It's an unspoken pain that's anything but obvious, and yet you see it in each other as clear as day. 

“Fucking exes, right?” the pair of you say in unison. A hearty laugh escapes both of you, and afterwards the pancakes slide down a bit easier. 

Belle calms herself first, “So you get how I was last night. I'm sorry, none of it was your fault.” You offer her a napkin and pour her another cup of ginseng tea, which she sips with an ethereal sort of grace once she finishes talking.

“Of course. I'm sorry too,” you sigh, picking at your scrambled eggs, “but at least we're recovering. I'm actually itching to write a new song once my hangover clears.”

“Me too, it’s just so freeing to let my feelings out onto songs. Plus all it costs is a pen and paper–much cheaper than therapy,” she agrees.

On the other hand…

~~~

“Blue palm trees?” she giggles. “What does that mean?”

The waves lap idly at your feet, scattering sand over your toes and hers. The calming ocean breeze washes over the both of you and weakly ruffles the paper she easily holds.

“It's called a hook, Belle. It captures the audience's attention, you should know this shit” you jab, drawing out more of her laughter. “Just let me be, okay? I'm the one with the pencil.”

She settles again, “Okay, okay, fine,” and sits back up straight. Another wave washes the sand away from the tops of your feet, dragging them back to the depths of the sea. In a split-second of feeling the grains slide off your skin and away with the water, you feel deep inside that maybe it'll be easier to walk again. 

“You know,” she starts gently, “this isn't too bad. I came here determined to grow stronger, but I don't feel any different–just more of what I was before. And weirdly…” Belle pauses, taking a short glance at you, meeting your eyes.

You can't help it; she's just that beautiful. The orange-tinted sunset behind her offers her a halo of warmth and sincerity, and it captivates your whole being to be able to spend a moment like this again, when the world is just right, especially with her. The waterline reaches up to your soles once more, tickling the both of you and sprinkling new grains between your toes before drawing back and taking the old away. 

“... Weirdly,” you continue for her, “I'm okay with that.” Your eyes never leave hers, and she stays, too. It takes a moment of serenity for you to finally let yourself think that this might be something more, that maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the world to stay with a girl like her. 

It takes a moment of serenity for you, but it seems like forever in an instant. Memories rush back like the ocean soaks the shoreline, swapping old sand with new, but you could never, can never, tell the difference. It's the same grains washing your feet, slipping between your toes, embedding themselves in your life so well that random moments like this bring you to the past when you least expect it. It reminds you of a history you'd give anything to forget: walking on a beach like this with a girl you thought you'd spend the rest of your life with–to an extent, you still do. How could you fuck up with a girl like that?

~~~

It's the worst gamble the both of you could take, and deep inside you knew there was no winning this. You felt it in your bones, from the beach to the elevator up until before you burst through her door with her, but the feeling is gone now, and for sure it’s gone for her too.  

“Mmm, just like that,” she whispers straight into your ear. You swear you’ve never tasted anything as sweet as the sweat on her neck, so much so that you never want your lips to leave her. She pulls you closer as if she could, maybe only decreasingly aware that her back was up against the wall and that even grains of sand couldn’t breathe in the space between you two. 

It takes no time at all, and you find yourself laid back and vulnerable on her mattress. Belle towers over you, straddling to keep you in place, as if you’d go anywhere. In a flash her shirt leaves her, then her shorts, and finally her underwear haphazardly thrown to the floor. Your own clothes follow even less ceremoniously, letting nothing get in the way of the woman of your dreams. 

“Fuck, that’s good…” she says as she lowers herself onto your length. You relish in the feeling of sliding into her, pushing her walls apart all the while lewd confessions spill from her lips. Your hands find her hips and you grip her tight, guiding her up and down as she bounces on your cock, “You’re so fucking tight, Belle…” while she places her hands on your chest to support herself as she takes you inside her over and over again, “I can’t get enough of you… I need you so bad…” losing yourself in her love. 

It’s the simplest thing to grab her wrists like this, to throw her onto the bed and fuck her yourself. She hits the mattress with a quiet thud, and without even a moment of respite you force everything into her again. 

“Gnnhhh, shit, it’s so good, you’re so good…” she gasps and grunts with every thrust like it knocks the air out of her each time. The bed creaks under the two of you: she tries to pull you close again, so you indulge her and meet her where she is to kiss. Amidst your tongues dancing in each other’s mouths, she moans like her life depends on it, “Yes, yes, oh my god, yes–” 

It’s the easiest thing to get lost in a girl like her. She’s perfect in every way you can think of–a smile to die for, a heart to protect, a body to worship. Each moment you bottom out in her, a spark goes off between your lips and hers, and it only pulls you in deeper, pulls you away farther from where you are. There’s nothing else to think about when you’re with a girl like this except her name and the way her body feels on yours. It’s so dreadfully incessant, unceasing in your head, that you thank your lucky stars you’re able to hold back most of your moans: Yuna, Yuna, Yuna, “Yuna…”

~~~

The sun blazes through the window and straight onto your eyelids, jolting you awake. The bed creaks as you bounce slightly on the mattress, your mind rushing to find your bearings, when right beside you, Belle stirs but then promptly falls back asleep. 

A grave sense of guilt overtakes you, clawing from the pit of your stomach all the way up to the back of your throat. There's nothing to say to her, nothing to do, and you know it. How could you fuck up with a girl like this? 

Your phone's alarm rings on a far-off table. Rush over to it, careful but quick so Belle doesn't wake. You knock over an ottoman in the process, but you're able to turn it off in time. Then it hits you: your flight leaves in a couple hours. There's no more time to think–gather your clothes and rush back to your own hotel. 

“Hour and a half,” you think, “more than enough time to repack and go.” Your door crashes open and you heave your suitcase onto the bed, haphazardly throwing everything you own back into it. The zipper disagrees with you for a moment until you finally bend it to your will, albeit threatening its life in the process.

The cabbie drives as fast as he can legally go for you, apparently already knowing the protocol, and people and buildings whizz past in a giant blur. He drops you off soon enough, and with only minutes to spare and the gate calling you over the intercom, you board your plane. The cold of the seat comforts you and calms your nerves, and once the hurried energy leaves your body, all that's left is fatigue that demands to be addressed. 

You scarcely notice the window beside you beyond pulling it shut. The cushions aren't as comfy as your bedding from the night before, but you can't attempt to complain in a state like this. You don't even feel your train of thought slipping away…

~~~

You’ve put it off long enough, the anxiety rending the lining of your stomach. In between your own calls and texts to Yuna you find yourself on the receiving end of the restlessness of your endlessly repeating ringtone and text notifications. You wait another few seconds to make sure she’s done, even tossing your phone onto your old bed to fetch a glass of water, before picking it back up and seeing the same number of messages. It's time. 

hey, where'd you go? Belle, 8:46 AM

it's a nice song, I'll send it over in a bit. call me? Belle, 8:50 AM

I'm at the restaurant again lol come on over Belle, 9:02 AM

you're really gonna make me miss you huh? hahaha Belle, 9:33 AM

*2 missed calls*

this isn't funny. pick up Belle, 10:14 AM

*2 missed calls*

you're serious? so last night was nothing to you? Belle, 11:15 AM

*1 missed call*

wow, what a fucking piece of shit you are Belle, 11:17 AM

*4 missed calls*

is it something i said?  Belle, 2:46 PM

let's just talk Belle, 3:30 PM

*2 missed calls*

just tell me what I did wrong please, I told you I can't handle this Belle, 3:37 PM

*8 missed calls*

don't do this to me Belle, 5:47 PM

*1 missed call*

fine asshole i don’t need you and fuck your song. Belle, 7:15 PM

don’t ever call me. Belle, 8:40 PM

The screen dims under your command. Your phone flies off into the folds of your bed once more, granting you your last moment of control. Belle finally stopped, and Yuna never made herself heard. At least one of you moved on.

You stand in your cold, empty bedroom, in the same dingy apartment you tried leaving behind. The same torn-up pages are scattered across the floor, the same stains on the carpet are there to step around, the same picture framed flipped down to hide the old photograph inside like grains of sand getting swept back up to you no matter how hard you try washing them away.

“It's another bottle tonight,” you decide in no time at all. Pull a cold one from the fridge, ignore the other bottles strewn across the room, take a seat at your desk. The lamp buzzes to life, and another sheet finds itself under your pen. 

They never meet. 

~~~

[jhdyuiee]

wildflower

❁ pairing: fake bf!jaehyun x fem!reader

❁ tags/warnings: angst, fluff, smut!, fake dating turned real, protected&unprotected sex (reader is on pill), oral (f&m receiving), fingering, breast&nipple play, hickies, spanking, kissing/making out, pet-names (baby, babe, beautiful), different positions, multiple orgasms, arguing, cursing, slight cheating (at the end), nudes, suggestive texting

❁ w.c: 11.9k!

❁ a.n: i’m back with a second release! next release will def be a different member, && possibly also inspired by another song by billie (her new album just too good ㅠㅠ ! ) i love u all, stay safe! jiji out 🤍

“i should put it all behind me, shouldn't i? but i see her in the back of my mind, all the time.”

“i'd never ask who was better, 'cause she couldn't be more different from me. happy and free…”

“did i cross the line? you say no one knows you so well, but every time you touch me, i just wonder how she felt. valentine's day, cryin' in the hotel i  know you didn't mean to hurt me, so I kept it to myself.”

kim yuna is her name. she was one of my closest friends, knowing her since primary school. i loved her like she was my own flesh and blood. nothing could ever come between us, well that’s what i thought… that was until he came into her–our lives.

jeong jaehyun.

it was a good 5 years that the two of them were together. heck everyone was sure you the pair would get married, have a family, and grow gray and old together. yet, they seemed to fall out of love and let one another go.

i remember that night, the night she came over to me crying on my shoulder. it was just the two of us that night, i held her tight, trying everything in my power to comfort her. i just couldn’t fathom how someone like jaehyun, who once showed her the world could let her go. love was a complicated thing, an inexplicable feeling that could dissipate in the blink of an eye.

so from that day on, it was just us two. “you’ll never leave me right, y/n?” i recalled yuna’s soft voice as we ate breakfast the following day. “of course not,” i replied. it became my mission to be with yuna forever, nothing in this world– universe could tear us apart.

└───❀̥˚───❀̥˚┘

july. the hot summer days rolled around, and so did he. i think the universe liked to mock me, play tricks or whatever because jeong jaehyun stood before me. in the short span of the months since their breakup he seemed to have changed, his aura seemed different, unrecognizable even.

“i knew i’d find you here,” he spoke. i looked at him with a puzzled expression, “if you came to get back with yuna, she doesn’t want to see you ever again!” a low chuckle emitted from his throat, “funny, i’m actually here for you.”

i was beyond confused, what could he want with little ol’ me? “me? what kind of business do you have with me?!” “if you come with me, i’ll be glad to tell you.”

“if you can’t tell i’m kind of in the middle of work right now,” i said, and i really was. my shift at the cafe was today and i wouldn’t be able to get off until a couple more hours. “then i’ll come back for you. you’re off at 5, right?” I didn’t respond, just signaling him with a nod of my head.

it didn’t take long before he was gone, leaving me so puzzled. why was he showing up now? how did he know i got off at 5? but most importantly, what could he want with me? when yuna and him were together, we weren’t particularly close to the point we could call each other friends, so whatever just happened right now has every right to leave me confused.

he sure is a man true to his word. when i opened the cafe doors, there he was leaning against his car. “get in,” he said. i raised a brow, “are you planning to murder me jeong?” he laughed, “no, why would i?” he walked along to the other side, opening the door for me. i hesitantly got in. once we both were in, he drove to whatever destination he was taking me to. i prayed he really wasn’t going to outright murder me.

the car ride was silent, besides the low music from the radio. r&b, his favorites as yuna used to tell me about. i gazed out the windows, watching the tall buildings and fancy dressed people walk. a couple minutes later we arrived at our destination, an underground parking lot. yep definitely getting murdered.

he opened the door and i stepped out, bracing myself for death. however, instead of that i was met with his hand on my shoulder which caused me to flinch. “relax, i told you i wasn’t going to murder you.” i let out a relieved sigh, “then what are we doing in a sketchy parking lot?” “we’re heading to my apartment,” he said.

“wait, wait, wait! i am not sleeping with you!” he looked at me, laughing a couple moments later “what? no?! i’ll tell you once we’re inside.” he didn’t let me utter another word before he guided me inside an elevator and pressed the button to the last floor.

jeong jaehyun screamed money. the man was rich, his father was the former ceo of a big corporation, to which jaehyun now inherited. it made sense why he lived in such a lavish building and owned such a luxurious car. though behind the facade, the man had his trauma. his mother died in a car accident when he was little, which is why he has no driver as it was his family driver who led his mother to her death. i only know all this information on him because of yuna, when they were together he was all she could talk about nights on end. it was annoying, but people in love are… well crazy in love.

when we finally made it to his floor, we stepped out. i followed behind him as we made it to his front door. he put in his code and let me in. i began taking off my coat and shoes when he spoke. “anything to drink?” he asked. “water is fine,” i replied.

“make yourself at home, the living room is straight ahead. you can wait for me there,” he says. i walked further into his apartment, it was minimalist. the whole space just screamed him, jaehyun. i sat in the –comfortable– black sofa whilst i waited for him. i’d hope this talk wouldn’t take so long. i texted yuna i wouldn’t be back until later today. since their break-up she began living with me.

he walked into the living room with two glasses of water in hand, handing me one. he sat besides me, on my left side. i took a sip of my water, clearing my dry throat. “so? what sort of business do you have to settle with little ol’ me?” i asked.

i turned to face him, his eyes set on me. his expression turned serious, his thoughts unreadable. i suddenly became really nervous, an unsettling feeling in my stomach.

we remained in silence until a beat or two later he finally spoke. his words leaving me all the more speechless that i needed him to repeat what he just said. “what? what did you just say?”

“date me.”

he couldn’t be serious right now. his ex’s best friend? he must have some humorous side to him because what the actual fuck was he saying?

“quite the bullshit jeong,” i slightly raised my voice. i was feeling slightly irritated now because just what in the world is jeong jaehyun thinking?!

he propped his elbow on the side of the sofa, “i’m not joking. date me y/n.”

“how can i-” he interrupted me mid sentence, “i’m kidding well kinda. listen i just need you to pretend you’re my girlfriend.”

pretend to be his girlfriend?! is he in his right mind? “what? why?” i questioned him. no matter how much i tried to make sense of the situation, i just couldn't comprehend it, it was impossible to.

“just one month, that’s all. i just need to prove to my father that i do have someone in my life so he could quit with the whole blind date bs.”

“b-but why choose me?” his intense gaze never faltered, “hmm, i don’t know. i just felt like you were the only woman capable of agreeing to such a thing, and plus you’re the only woman i felt like i was on somewhat good terms with.”

“good terms? may i remind you, you dated and broke my best friend's heart!?” his eyes softened, “look yeah i could’ve guessed you hate me now, but i’m sorry… what happened between me and her was mutual, some things were just never meant to be…”

some things are just never meant to be. i wonder what he means by that. yuna never really gave me the details surrounding their break up, so i suppose all this time i assumed it was because jaehyun had done something. however, the way his face softened at the mention of their relationship made me wonder if they’re was more to the story than yuna had led off.

“of course you don’t have to agree to it if you don’t want to,” he said when he noticed how lost in thought i was. my mind just circulating on him, yuna, and his proposal. would it be a bad idea to accept his offer? i mean i’d just have to put up with him for a month… i even doubt yuna would ever find out.

i brushed off any further thoughts and looked at jaehyun straight in his eyes. my mouth hesitated, was i really making the right choice? “i- i’ll do it. i’ll pose as your girlfriend for one month.” it was strange, after i released those words it felt like something within me ached, regret screaming at me. truly y/n… were you making the right choice…?

i watched as jaehyun’s eyes widened, possibly from not expecting me to accept his proposal. “really? you’ll do it!” his voice sounded a little too excited. i was scared.

“y- yes,” my mouth spoke for itself.

“great! then i’ll sort you out on the details,” jaehyun explained. i followed along as jaehyun explained how this arrangement would go. we’d only meet on days in which we would need to visit his father, we planned out our story on how we’d met and such, and we decided it’d be best to exchange contacts to make things easier.

i stared at my phone, jaehyun, read the screen. i sighed, i really was doing this. “then now that it’s all settled, let me drive you back home,” he announced. in all honesty, i was going to reject his offer, but then i remembered how late in the night it was, and how i don’t feel all too comfortable riding in a taxi this late at night.

so now here i was in his car once more, and it made me realize how many more times in the future i’d be situated in this exact same spot. the car ride was silent, except for the music playing in the background which made up for the utter silence.

when we arrived, i thanked him for the ride. “it was nothing,” he said.  i’ll message you when my father tells me to go visit him again.” “mm, sure thing,” i replied, as i reached for the car handle and opened the door. i took one final glance at jaehyun before exiting his vehicle. through the moonlight i could still see his face light up into a smile, accentuating his dimples.

thump. 

that was weird, “see you later then,” i swiftly said as i felt like i needed to get out of this car as soon as possible. with a final goodbye i finally made my way to my apartment. i opened it, noticing the television was on in the living room. yuna must’ve stayed up trying to wait until i’d arrived.

“i’m home!” i slightly yelled. i began making my way to the living room where she was. “what took you so long, you said you’d come back as soon as possible,” she said.

“sorry, it seemed more things needed to be discussed.” i felt outright terrible. lie after lie came out of my mouth when yuna questioned why i was out for so long.

i had to keep the meeting with jaehyun a secret until i die. who knows how yuna might’ve react knowing i, her bestest friend, was out with her ex. not to mention how i’d just agreed to become his fake girlfriend.

i sighed, in which yuna noticed. “are you sure everything is alright?” she asked. i embraced her in my arms, resting my chin on her shoulder. “yes, i assure you nothing bad happened.” i let go of her a second later, “now let’s go rest. i’m sure we’ve both had a long day.” she nodded, taking one last glance at me as i stood watching her walking to her bedroom.

“good night, y/n.”

“good night yuna,” i replied back as i turned my body to walk to my bedroom. i wanted nothing more but to soak myself in a warm bath and recount just what the hell my life was or is going to become. i did just that, spending quite a bit of time in the bath before i headed off to bed. i wrapped myself in my bed sheet, the effects of the bath dawning over me. i felt myself relaxing into a deep slumber. no matter how chaotic today was, i felt most at peace here in my bed.

└───❀̥˚───❀̥˚┘

since that day i have had yet to receive a message from jaehyun. it felt almost as if that day never had happened, like some part of my imagating– a dream, no a nightmare.

ping.

great. the universe indeed must find enjoyment in mocking me. there it was, a message from jaehyun.

jaehyun: my father asked me to come around tomorrow. could you make it?

y/n: sure thing. what time?

jaehyun: around noon sounds fine?

y/n: okay

jaehyun: great! i’ll tell him you’ll be coming with me.

jaehyun: i’ll come pick you up tomorrow.

y/n: alright, see you tomorrow.

i sighed as i read his last message, see you tomorrow. tomorrow’s the big day. the first day of our whole hoax. i wonder if his father would buy into it considering the fact that me and jaehyun have had very little history together. whatever, i’m sure we’d find our way around it.

i got up from my chair, exiting the employee lounge. my break was almost over so i shut down any further thoughts and focused only on the tasks at hand.

hours later, i readied myself to leave the cafe. i realized it would be rather rude of me to not bring something to give his father so i tried to as quickly as possibly to make it to the shopping center before it closed. I strolled along, hopping from store to store. nothing really was catching my eye, in fact i had no idea what to buy! i felt like it’d be quite troublesome to text jaehyun about it, so i opted out of it and just went with whatever was going to capture my attention.

after a few more rounds, i finally found something. these really eccentric and beautiful shot glasses. i prayed that mr.jeong was a drinker because if not then i’d really would want to jump off the face of the earth.

shot glasses in hand, i made my way to pay for them. i gotta say they were quite the price tag, but that didn’t matter. this was all so i could win the favor of jaehyun’s father tomorrow. really, really prayed he drank.

└───❀̥˚───❀̥˚┘

d-day. i could barely get a wink of sleep last night. nervousness, a bit of excitement, and worry overcame me last night. would we really be able to pull this off? what if his father disapproved of me? gosh, i really am a worrying mess.

as i got ready, i put on my best outfit. it was one that seemed fit to make a good impression. I opted for a natural make-up look and some loose curls. i checked my phone once again, 11:45 a.m. 15 minutes to spare, i rushed to the kitchen. although i felt too nervous to digest anything right now, i couldn’t go on a completely empty stomach. so i toasted myself some bread and poured myself some orange juice. quite the breakfast i gotta say.

as i finished up i heard as my phone began ringing. must be jaehyun, i thought. i rushed to my bedroom where my phone was placed on my nightstand. surely enough i was right, it was jaehyun calling.

i picked up, “hello?” i spoke. “hey, y/n i’m almost at your place. you ready?” he said in my ear. “y-yeah just waiting for you,” i replied. Is it just me or did that sound slightly weird? whatever it already came out of my mouth. y/n you fool.

“oh, okay then i’ll be there in 5.” “mm, i’ll start going down then,” i said and later bid him a goodbye although i’d see his face in a couple minutes. i rushed inside my closet, opting to pick out the most suitable looking purse. with purse and gift in hand i swiftly exited my apartment.

i stood up straight, trying to give myself boosting affirmations, and eliminating any worrisome or negative thoughts from my head. as i headed outside my apartment complex, there he was. he must’ve barely arrived as he was just getting out his car, until he spotted me. he waved me down.

i walked a little faster, stopping when we stood measly inches apart. “well, you look beautiful,” he says. i tried my hardest not thinking anything of his little compliment. “thanks… i suppose,” i responded earning me a slight chuckle from jaehyun. “ready to go?” jaehyun asks, and before i could respond he guides me to the passenger side of his car.

he opened the door for me in which i then sat down in the passenger seat. he then closes the door, walking over to the drivers side.

i expected for the car ride to be silent, but i then got the urge to bombard jaehyun with questions. “what kind of person is your father?” i asked first. i looked over at him noticing how he seemed to be deep in thought. “hmm, i suppose he isn’t some ruthless man you should worry about. trust me y/n he’ll like you, he is rather… weak.”

weak? mr.jeong? the man who built an empire. it seemed hard to believe, so i'll just have to see it with my own two eyes once we meet. the ride continued with me asking more questions in which jaehyun delightedly answered back to.

time seemed to have flowed quickly as we now made our way inside the gate surrounding the jeong residence. my nervousness was starting to kick in again. i began taking deep breaths, in and out, in and out, in and- “ready?” jaehyun spoke, startling me. i glanced up to where he now was, waiting for me to exit the car. it was all going too quick!

i waited for jaehyun, but when he took a little too long i looked at him. he looked pensive like he was in some very serious thinking. “something wrong?” i asked. he looked at me, eye-to-eye. “is it okay with you if we hold hands… you know to make it seem like we really are a couple.”

ah, right we’re supposed to pose as a couple right now. he had a point so i took his hand. i felt as he tensed up before seemingly relaxing down a bit after. “here we go,” he says as he rang the doorbell. i inhaled one last time, bracing myself for what's to come.

the door swung open a minute later, where we were both greeted by an older, yet young looking lady. “jaehyun!” she exclaimed. “Hello, ms.kim!” he replied back. they briefly hugged before he turned to me, “y/n this is ms.kim. she works for my father and was my nanny back when i was a child,” he explained. “ah, and ms.kim this is y/n my girlfriend,” jaehyun said as he turned back to speak to ms.kim.

“y/n! darling, wow you’re gorgeous! jaehyun sure hit the jackpot with you,” she teased, smiling brightly. i had to admit, i quite embarrassed. “no, no, no i’m sure i’m the lucky one here,” i smiled before continuing, “it’s a pleasure to meet you ms.kim!” instead of reaching out for my hand, she warmly embraced me in her arms. when we parted she spoke again, “ah, come in, come in!”

we walked inside the big home, my eyes soaking in every detail. “where’s my father?” jaehyun asked. “hmm, that old man? he’s probably in his office, i’ll go get him,” she says, but before departing she tells us– well i, “make yourself at home.”

when we were finally alone, i exhaled again. “she’s sweet, i like her,” i whispered, fearing they could hear me from where they were. “i’m glad she seems to like you already, she’s not quite the most accepting person.”

“by the way, i’ve been meaning to ask. what’s in that bag?” jaehyun asked me as he looked down to the gift bag i held in my hand. “ah, a gift for your father.” “a gift? you didn’t have to go out of your way to do all that,” he said. “i know, but i would’ve felt rather rude if i didn’t get him anything. speaking of which please tell me he drinks,” i said.

“i quite very much enjoy drinking,” a voice spoke. my head whipped back, my eyes coming in contact with a man who quite just looked like jaehyun but in an older version. they looked like copies of one another.

“ah, it’s nice to meet you mr.jeong, my name is y/l/n,” i said as i bowed. my hands clenched around the gift bag just a bit tighter. “oh dear, no need to do all that y/n!” he said. i raised myself, gathering the courage to walk towards the man.

“then i hope you can accept my gift… though it’s nothing too grand, i hope you could still enjoy it sir,” i spoke nervously as i handed him the gift bag. he took it, giving me smile just like jaehyun’s. “oh gosh, you didn’t have to. jaehyun! why didn’t you stop her,” he said, giving his son a stern look.

jaehyun just gives him a shrug of his shoulders. “thank you very much anyway dear. i’ll be sure to open it later, for now let’s have some lunch.” as we headed to the dinning table, i felt jaehyun’s hand in the lower part of my back. he leans down, “good job” he whispered into my ear. his hot voice, practically causing me to almost melt away. i glanced up at him, his eyes catching mine and that’s when he smiled fondly at me, in which i later returned as well.

└───❀̥˚───❀̥˚┘

lunch was more than great. the food was quite possibly the most delicious food i’ve had in a while. mr.jeong throughout the whole lunch would just go on and on talking about jaehyun’s life, his business, and other random subjects. 

“jaehyun, be a dear and go with ms.kim to pick up the desserts,” his father spoke. oh, oh. this could translate to: leave, i wanna talk to y/n alone. fuck, fuck, fuck. i was getting even more nervous than i originally was.

jaehyun sighed, “alright,” he said. he got up, walking over to where i sat across from him and leaned down, “you’ll do great. i’ll try and be quick” he whispered into my ear. what i didn’t expect was after he said that he pecked my cheek. i just lowly said, “okay.”

“don’t be too harsh on her dad,” jaehyun said before leaving. jaehyun was gone before his father could say anything back, it was just the two of us for god knows how long. i’d had hoped it wouldn’t go past 15 minutes.

“don’t be too nervous, i’m not here to tear you apart,” his father spoke when he noticed how tensed up i’d gotten. i tried relaxing a bit, reassuring myself in my head that it’d be alright.

“i do gotta admit, when jaehyun first told me about you i was shocked. my son who would rather die than date a woman, telling me he has a girlfriend almost made me believe if i had made it to heaven,” he said, seemingly joking. i giggled a bit. “however, seeing you here today and the way he is around you i can tell he seems serious about this.”

serious my ass, i thought. it was all an act, god the oscar’s should give jaehyun an award for his stellar performance at fooling his father. “y-yeah,” i began saying. “when jaehyun first approached me, asking to take me out on a date, i was surprised as well. i mean little ol’ me with a man out of my reach… i have to admit i thought it was a foolish prank but then i realized how genuine he was. you raised him to be an amazing and loving man, mr.jeong.”

his face softened, “no, no i don’t deserve the credit, his mother does. he told you didn’t he, about his mother?” i nodded, even though it was technically yuna who had told me. “well, since my wife’s death my– no our lives have not been the same. everyday i lived in regret and sorrow, but then i remembered i had to keep going, not necessarily for me but for my son. his mother taught him everything she could’ve possibly taught him while she was still alive and for that i am forever grateful for.”

hearing him talk made my heart ache. i realized in that moment just how much not only jaehyun must’ve gone through but his dad as well. losing someone is not easy, getting over them is in fact far from it. “i’m sure she must be proud of the person jaehyun has become today,” i said. he smiled, “yeah, i’m sure she is. i guarantee you she would’ve adored you as well.” my heart broke all the more, even if this was a fake relationship those words still hit me.

i smiled weakly, lips twitching as i felt my eyes blurr. i blinked and there they were, tears streaming down my face. “oh dear, i didn’t mean to make you cry,” mr.jeong said, handing me a napkin. i wiped those darn tears away and later continued my conversation with his father.

contrary to my expectations, mr.jeong truly was a kind soul, weak to his family. i could also safely say that by the end of our conversation he seemed to like and approve of me. mission accomplished, i suppose.

└───❀̥˚───❀̥˚┘

jaehyun and ms.kim arrived well past 15 minutes, but that didn’t matter because the conversation between mr.jeong and i was a great one. “he didn’t tell you anything bad right?” jaehyun spoke as he ate a piece of his dessert. i glanced over at his father giggling, “hmm just how you got stuck in the snow one time and cried out because they took forever to take you out.” jaehyun groaned, “dad!”

mr.jeong crossed his arms, smiling. “what can i say, you were quite a cute child back then.” i laughed, and enjoyed the company. i could get used to this… but right, this would only last a month. i tried shoving such thoughts from my head, deciding on focusing on the present.

we stayed for a while longer, deciding to leave once the sun was starting to set. i bid ms.kim a farewell before doing the same to mr.jeong. “come back again soon dear, with or without him,” mr.jeong said. i smiled, “will do!”

and so after having said our farewells, me and jaehyun headed off. i would say me and him we’re making progress as the car ride back was filled with lots of chatter. the poor guy investigating me on what stories his father had told me about him.

“well, i’m glad he likes you,” jaehyun said, “yeah, guess we really pulled this off,” i replied.

“mmm, he seems relieved that i finally have someone in my life now,” he continued. however, i didn’t respond back. i was too busy probing on the thought of how it seemed like jaehyun never told his father about yuna. i was too scared to bring up the subject, remembering how jaehyun became when her name was ever mentioned, so i left it at that: an insignificant thought.

the car ride back to my apartment continued with chatter. when we had arrived, i lingered in his car for a while. “so, i’ll see you next time?”

we both looked at one another. jaehyun’s mouth fell open, then closing. he didn’t respond, just giving me a simple nod of his head.

“then, drive home safely. bye jaehyun,” i said, opening up the passenger door. before i closed it jaehyun spoke, “sleep well y/n.” my face flushed, “mmm, you too” i said before closing the door. i gripped my bag, walking into my apartment complex as quickly as possible. god, what is wrong with you?!

as i opened the apartment door, i noticed the television playing. “ah, welcome home y/n!” yuna said cheerfully. she stopped for a brief moment, observing me. “hmm, what’s this our little y/n out on a date?!” she teased.

what do i say? yes, no? i mean it’d be fine as long as i didn’t tell her the name right?

“y-yeah,” i said, rather shyly. her eyes widened, squealing “who is it! someone i know!?” she bombarded me with questions. “n-no! he’s just some guy i’m getting to know,” i said. i can’t believe i’m lying to my best friend right now, but then again it’s not like i can tell her: “hey! i’m going out with your ex boyfriend!”

“well if you ever decided to make it official, introduce me to the guy! he’s gotta need my approval after all,” she said smiling. yuna was always the opposite of me, she shined bright everywhere she went. it was no shocker how she managed to get someone like jaehyun to fall head over heels for her.

i laughed at her declaration, “sure thing.” we stayed up for a while longer before we both headed off to bed. today was surely a long day, going surprisingly better than i had anticipated. it all led me to ponder how things would go in the future. it made me both nervous and excited for what was to come.

however only later would i realize how i crossed the line. it would be far too late to go back.

weeks passed, days flowed by and life was surprisingly better than ever. since my first meeting with jaehyun’s father, i’d visited him a few more times and now july was just about over. today, i got ready to go see jaehyun’s father again. though, jaehyun described it as a quick visit. nonetheless, i rushed to get ready since he would be here in around 15 minutes.

i made my way to the front of my apartment complex where he was waiting. it was always the same routine every single time. part of me was growing accustomed to this, but i constantly reminded myself of the month period which for a fact was close to coming to an end.

i hated to admit it but i didn’t want this to end, but i couldn’t bring myself to tell jaehyun about this secret of mine. hating to admit i blushed everytime he showered me with the littest bit of –fake– affection, that effect he was just having on me. i hated to admit just how much i’d grown to like him…

“everything alright?” he questions me. i snapped out of my thoughts, my face facing his as he held the steering wheel. “y-yeah just didn’t get enough sleep,” i lied.

“sorry to drag you out like this, but i know how much my dad would’ve bugged me if i didn’t bring you along,” he chuckled, which caused me to smile. yup, i’m completely fucked.

when we arrived at mr.jeong’s residence we were greeted by ms.kim who informed us mr.jeong had some friends over. moments later, he walked in with said friends and introduced me to each one of them. his use of the word, “daughter-in-law” not going unheard by me. jaehyun must’ve heard it too.

i was too focused on the conversation between the men that i failed to notice when jaehyun leaned down into my ear whispering, “i didn’t know they’d be here, i swear. the old man told me he had something to tell me but in reality i thought he’d just found some excuse to bring you along.” i turned to him, our faces only centimeters apart, my eyes widened.

“i-i, it’s alright,” i whispered. jaehyun closed the small distance between us until i could feel his breath on my face and the light touch of his lips on mine.

“oh young people,” mr.jeong said.

shit, i was too caught up in the moment i had forgotten they were right in front of us. my face felt hot, my whole body did. just a single move and our lips would’ve met each other. “if you don’t mind, can you excuse us,” jaehyun spoke up as he got up. his hand, taking mine to guide me up.

“sure, sure. enjoy yourselves,” his father said. god, this was so embarrassing. before leaving, we said our goodbyes and headed back to his car. in the car it was silent, the air felt different; i couldn’t speak.

i opted to look outside through the window, but the unfamiliar landscape drove me to finally speak. “th-this isn’t the way to my apartment…”

a beat later he answered, “i know we’re heading somewhere first.” i wondered where that could’ve been, but i didn’t get to wonder for long as i soon recognized we were heading to his apartment instead. i wonder what he could’ve wanted.

once i was back into the familiar, yet unfamiliar apartment, we sat on his sofa. there was silence for a while, before he made the first move. “what would you say if we extend our agreement?” he asked, but his eyes didn’t meet mine.

“wh-what…” i said. i was confused what he meant by this, i mean i could interpret this a hundred ways. he scratches the back of his neck, “fuck. that’s not, well i do mean.. mm,” jaehyun said, he seemed at a loss of words.

there was a brief moment of silence again, before he spoke up again. “date me. no agreement, contract, anything of the sort.”

no fucking way! “huh? you want us to date for real, but-” he interrupted me before i could finish. “before you say anything more, i want you to know that in all honesty i don’t want this to end. i’ve enjoyed every moment we’ve spent together, your smile, laugh, and that bright light you radiate. i like every part of you y/n… i like you.”

my eyes widened. no way, this was a confession... jaehyun was confessing to me. did i feel him the same way he felt? were these feelings of mine more affection than friendship? who am i kidding, they were. the truth in fact was that i liked jaehyun romantically, i couldn’t deny it any longer.

“i-i like you too…”

i watched as his face softened, his dimpled smile making it’s appearance. his smile was the most precious and beautiful i’d ever seen. one of his hands made their way to my cheek, caressing it. his body inched closer, until there was only a small distance between us.

“can i?” he whispered. i nodded, shyly closing my eyes. i felt as his lips touched mine. they molded perfectly into mine, felt soft too. it was a gentle kiss, but it quickly became something i enjoyed with all my heart.

i parted away first, trying to catch my breath but i was already starting to miss the feeling of his lips on mine. so i leaned back into him, our kiss deepening more this time around. his tongue intruded inside my mouth, colliding with mine. he then bit into my bottom lip, but quickly kissed on it. jaehyun places his hands on each side of my hips, guiding me to straddle his lap without breaking the kiss.

we continued devouring one another, enjoying what the other had to offer. things only escalated further when his hands began traveling along my body. his fingertips left a trailing blaze of heat throughout me. my hips then began moving on their own, my lower area in the need of some friction. i felt his cock hardened as i continued grinding on him. his hands now on my hips, gradually helping me pick up the pace.

his lips letting go of mine just to say, “hold on.” in which i followed, wrapping my arms around his neck as he gets up, walking to what i then knew was his bedroom. jaehyun gently lays me on his bed, my eyes on him as he lifts his shirt, taking it off and tossing it somewhere in his spacious room. his eyes then meeting mine, causing a smirk to form on his face. “like what you see?” he teases. i felt my face heat up. “don’t you think it’s a bit unfair for me to be the only one without a shirt?” he continued saying.

i lift myself up from his bed, hands grabbing the hem of my shirt, getting it over my head and onto the floor. i noticed as jaehyun’s eyes never left mine, soaking me all in. i felt quite shy so i covered my breasts with my arms. jaehyun got closer, “don’t be shy now baby, you're beautiful.”

baby. beautiful. god, his sweet words were so beautiful. i once again did as he said, putting my arms down to my sides. he closed the distance between us, colliding his lips onto mine in a deep and passionate kiss. all the while his hands began working with the hook of my bra until it came off me. he parts, bringing his lips to kiss all over me from my cheek to collarbone. when he brought his lips to my neck however, i felt as he sucked harshly onto my skin, causing me to wince. he parts, muttering a “sorry” against my neck.

jaehyun was marking me up, claiming what was his.

traveling further down, he stops at my breasts. i felt as his lips kissed the valley of my breast before going onto one. he stuck his tongue out, brushing against my nipple. he licked the bud until it hardened, and then went over to my other neglected breasts to do the same. this however didn’t satisfy him, so he began marking me up again, adding biting my tits into the mix. the attention and pleasure he was giving my tits was more than enough to make me a whining and needy mess. i was sure if he were to take off my skirt right now, my thighs would be dripping.

it was as if he was reading my mind because one of his hands began traveling inside my skirt until it cupped my sex. i moaned into the spacious room. “this wet already?” he muttered against my breast, letting his mouth room further down my body until it reached my belly. for a brief moment his hand comes back up from my skirt, using both his hands now to take off my skirt. while he tossed the skirt somewhere around the room, i began taking off my white laced panties. his eyes glued to me, it was like we were the only two people in this world.

with my panties off, i felt as the cool air hit my warm sex. jaehyun pried my legs open, using two of his fingers, to slide along my cunt. he gathered some of my juices onto his fingers only to bring them to his mouth and lick it up. “mm, so sweet. might get addicted, baby,” he says sweetly. he then brings his fingers back onto my cunt, teasing me. “p-please,” i whined.

“hmm? please what baby?” he says, staring at my desperate state. “to-touch me… your fingers, in me please,” i begged with the man above. jaehyun had you wrapped around his finger, practically putty in his hands.

jaehyun simply smiles before intruding his fingers into your hole. he feels as your gummy walls clenched around his fingers, squeezing him so tight. his eyes blessed with the sight of you trying to grind against his hand as you arch that pretty back off his bed. your beautiful singing of his name and moans we’re blessing his ears. so, so beautiful– he thought.

his fingers plunged in and out of you at a fast pace, you felt yourself nearing the end. the knot in your stomach threatening to unleash at any moment, just a little more, a little…

“don’t worry baby, go on cum… i got you,” jaehyun groaned. it was then when he brought his thumb into the mix, using the digit to rub your clit so deliciously. you grip the bed sheet, eyes rolling back until you saw white. your orgasm came crashing out, better than any previous orgasms you’ve or other guys have given you.

i panted, trying to catch my breath from that mind-blowing orgasm. my eyes returned to focus back to jaehyun as he licked his hands clean. when he finished he opened the drawer on his nightstand, fishing out a condom. unzipping his pants, he pulls them down along with his boxers until his cock sprung out. the poor thing looked hard as a rock, his tip red and leaking with pre-cum. my mouth nearly drooled at the sight, i wanted it in my mouth, a taste of it. “next time baby, right now i really wanna be in you,” he says, when he notices how focused i was on his cock.

he opens the condom, then sliding it onto his cock. “can you go lay over there baby,” he says, pointing in the direction of where his pillows were. i quickly made my way over there, laying back on my back. the mattress dipped when jaehyun got on, and he stopped in front of me. one of his hands wrapped around his cock. “open up for me baby,” he says in a low voice. opening my legs for him, he shuffled a bit further. his cock reached my pussy, where he used my wetness on the condom.

“ready?” he says, eyes staring straight at mine. i nodded my head, yes. all the confirmation jaehyun needed to start pushing his cock inside you. he was unlike any guy you’ve had before. the delicious stretch of his cock has you a moaning mess, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him deeper. the tight squeezing of your pussy around his cock doesn’t go unnoticed by him as it has him groaning and moaning into your ear.

“you feel so good, baby. so perfect. it’s as if you were made for me, this pussy was made for me,” he whispered into my ear. his words ignited me even more, my pussy clenching around him all the more. when all of him was in me, he lifted his body up and grabbed my thighs on both his hands. “don’t squeeze me too tight now or i won’t last long,” he says before sliding his cock out, leaving his tip inside.

gripping me tighter, he pounded his cock back inside me. thrusting ruthlessly and hard, i could feel as he reached deep inside me– his tip kissing my cervix beautifully. the pace didn’t falter even after what felt like 10 minutes. i moaned and chanted his name like it was the only word in my vocabulary. drool escaping my mouth and eyes watering with tears, was the state i was in. “who’s making you feel so good baby?” he says slightly panting.

when i didn’t answer, jaehyun lifted one of my legs higher. in this position, his cock pierced inside me even deeper than before. i could practically feel his nestled in my womb. “mmm~ ahh, uhh fuck. y-you! you! only you are jae!” i moaned loudly.

satisfied with your response, jaehyun decides to give you a reward. he places his thumb back onto your swollen clit, abusing the poor thing. with every pinch and rub to your clit you were growing closer. however, you felt strange. as you tried voicing your concern, jaehyun shushes you with his mouth on yours.

by this time it was too late, you came gushing out like a waterfall. he parts from the kiss, saliva connecting the two of you. he looks down to where you both were conjoined, “let me guess, that was your first time squirting?” you nodded dumbly, too fucked out of your mind. “wow, i’m honored baby,” he says as he continues fucking me through my orgasm. through my hazy state i noticed as his pace began to falter, slowing down a bit.

his cock twitched inside me, allowing himself to thrust a couple more times before he came into the condom. the air of his room smelled like sex, evidence of what had just transpired. he pulls out, taking off the condom as he walks over to dispose of it. “that was amazing baby,” he says, going back to lay beside me.

his arms wrap around my body, embracing me as we laid there. “i’ll clean you up in a bit, let us just enjoy this for now,” he says. before i knew it my eyes fluttered shut. i passed out for the night, too exhausted to stay awake for even a second more.

└───❀̥˚───❀̥˚┘

i stirred my eyes open, coming face to face with the bright summer sun. i got up, taking my surroundings in. an unfamiliar bedroom… no wait, this is jaehyun’s bedroom. in that moment, the flashbacks of what happened last night replayed in my head. i turned to the other side of the bed, noticing it empty, but the scrambled bed sheets signified he was in fact there. i looked down to notice myself in a shirt that wasn’t mine, jaehyun’s.

fuck. wait… why did it dawn to me now that i literally agreed into becoming jaehyun’s –real– girlfriend. yuna... isn’t this betrayal? did i cross the line? i couldn’t ponder for too long before the bedroom door flung open.

jaehyun.

he wore gray sweats and a white t-shirt. “drooling already?” he teased coming to my side. i got up, sitting on the edge as i wiped my lips and felt as something wet touched the back of my hand. fuck i really was drooling. he laughed, going onto his knees, laying his head on my thighs. i combed a hand through his hair, “you’re quite the beast jaehyun.” he glances up, “what are you trying to say?” he says raising a brow.

“you know exactly what i mean!” slightly raising my voice. he still acted like he had no idea what i was referring to. “ughh, thanks to you i could barely walk,” i said shyly. it was true though, getting up from the bed, i could feel the ache.

he chuckled, “but you enjoyed it didn’t you?” i squinted my eyes, “we-well yes, but that’s besides the point! anyways did you clean me?” he nods his head, “yup, but you were sleeping so soundly i didn’t wanna wake you up, you’re quite the heavy sleeper babe.”

my heart nearly melted, “thanks jaehyun.” he smiled, a mischievous one in which i knew meant no good. “how about giving me a reward?” he asks sweetly. no matter how much i tried resisting i ended up giving in.

“i-thought this was a reward for you?” i tried saying as the sensation of his tongue running along my cunt cleared all normal functions from my brain. “it is,” he says as he raises his head to look into my lustful eyes. “your sweet pussy is such a delicacy for me. plus i haven’t had any breakfast yet,” he continues saying, giving me a wink at the end as he dove back in.

last night was not enough for jaehyun it seems so because you two were going right back at it throughout the morning. i mean not that you were complaining...

february 13th. the day before jaehyun’s birthday and also we can’t forget valentine’s day.

it has now been well over 6 months since me and jaehyun had begun dating and all of it has been a bliss. jaehyun truly was the best boyfriend i could ever ask for. everything seemed right, but then i spiraled into a panic. it wasn’t often but occasionally guilt would eat me away, my consciousness yelling at me. however it was too late to turn back now, not unless a time machine magically appeared. yet again, i didn’t regret a single thing… was it bad that i didn’t?

but i see her, yuna, in the back of my mind. all the time, like a fever. did i cross the line?

and i then realized that it wasn’t reassurance that i needed from jaehyun, it felt like something more, something i so desperately was trying to search for…

nonetheless today is his pre-birthday dinner! i can’t be moping around in depressing thoughts! quickly getting outta bed, i began getting myself ready. unlike other days, today i went for a cute some-what skin tight dress, heels, loose curled hair, and a tad bit more make-up. before making my way downstairs to meet up with jaehyun, i grabbed a small gift bag and tucked it inside my purse.

as i made my way down, i saw his car come rolling in. a smile making its way on my face as he gets out of the car to greet me. “you’re quite breathtaking,” he says as he pecked me on my lips. i let out a dreamy sigh, “and you’re quite the charmer.” he smiled, taking my hand to guide me to the passenger seat of his car. after shutting the door, he walks over to his door and begins the drive.

unfortunately, he knew about his pre-birthday dinner, only because i am not the world’s best driver so i can’t be the one to drive us there. i planned for it to be a small dinner at an italian restaurant we both enjoyed. however, what he was unaware of was about how i called the restaurant a couple days ago to inform them if they could bring out a cake. so technically i’m still seeing this as a whole surprise!

when we finally arrived at the restaurant, he took my hand in his to walk me. luckily for those reservations we made because if not we would’ve waited hours just to get a table. when we got situated at our table, a waiter came by not too later to take our orders. once we got our food, we ate while chatting about anything and everything. we enjoyed each other’s presence as we ate on a cool february night.

a while later i excused myself, under the circumstances that i had to use the restroom. yet in reality i was going to go inform the waiter to bring out the cake. i returned to my seat afterwards and waited for them to arrive.

“happy, happy birthday! happy birthday! happy birthday to you!” the waiters around us sang as they clapped their hands. i recorded the scene as jaehyun look bewildered, his cheeks adorning a pink-ish color. cute, i thought. one of the waiter places the cake on the table, and after they finished singing jaehyun blew the candle. the waiters later dispersed, leaving me and jaehyun alone.

“so this is why you wanted to come here?” he questioned. i smirked, “yup, yup and they so kindly agreed to it!” he sighed before giving me a slice of his cake. we continued chatted whilst we ate the very delicious cake. whereas i note jaehyun’s eyes never leaving me, watching me intently as i licked the icing off my fork.

jaehyun clears his throat, catching my attention, “w-we should get going soon.” i raised my brow, “huh, but-” he interrupted me before i could continue, “i have a better idea.”

“oh yeah, and what could that be?” i questioned him. “you’ll see. follow me,” he says, getting up and taking me by my wrist. we quickly stop by to pay before we leave. jaehyun’s pace slightly rushed.

when we arrived at the parking garage, he pinned me to the passenger door. not even a second later does he take my lips on his. he kisses me with such passion, lust, and hunger— even if he had just eaten. i was a bit bewildered at first but i soon sink into the kiss, my arms wrapping around his neck.

his knee comes in between my legs, as his hands began to roam my body. a hand slips under my dress, causing me to moan into the kiss when i feel his hand travel further up only stopping to rub two of his fingers against my pussy.

i pant as i part from the kiss, “s-stop, not here jae.” i felt hazy already, and as i looked at him i noticed those lustful eyes of his. “get in then, we’ll continue this somewhere else,” he mutters into my ear before pecking my temple. we rushed inside the car, leaving the parking lot as he drove us quickly to the nearest hotel.

└───❀̥˚───❀̥˚┘

we just barely made it inside the door when jaehyun’s desperate hands began removing the dress i wore, later pooling at the bottom of my feet. “fuck, when i saw you in that dress i wanted nothing more but to rip it off you and fuck you,” he mumbles into my ear as his hand begin to remove my panties. “no bra too? fuck, you’re going to be the death of me baby,” he groaned.

being completely naked with the cool door pressed against my back, jaehyun soaks me all in before using his fingers to rub against my cunt again. “this wet already? all for me, is that right?” he continues teasing. i let out a small whimper before muttering “yes.”

jaehyun quickly takes his hand away from my aching pussy, licking his fingers clean. he moans in satisfaction as he tastes my juices. using both his hands, he quickly begins removing his clothes, his hard cock resting against his stomach. he watches as i stare intently, bringing one hand to his cock he begins jerking it. fuck, now this is going to kill me.

“Get on your knees baby,” he says. i sank into my knees in no time, face only about an inch away from his leaking cock. “open,” he continues as he grabs the back of my head to inch me closer to his cock. my mouth falls open, making on “o” shape. “good girl,” he groans when his tip intrudes inside my mouth.

he slowly moved his cock furthur inside my mouth, but when i begin to slightly gag he stopped. “you can take it, ain’t you’re first time baby,” he says and he has a point, though it was just too big i could never seem to fit it without gagging, drooling, or tearing up. he begins moving his cock again, and i finally feel the tip reach down my throat, so deep. “that’s right, shoved down deep in ya,” he groans. he stays snugged in my mouth for a moment before telling me, “now your turn, suck me off baby.”

i place my hands against his thighs to move my head back, until only his tip was inside. i use my tongue to swirl around his tip, my hands soon helping in jerking the rest of his cock. i hear the way jaehyun’s moans and groans filled the room, my ears blessed.

i let go of his tip, bringing my tongue to lick him along his cock and pecking his tip. i repeated this on the other side, glancing up to look at jaehyun’s state. he was an absolute wreck already.

“come on baby, i told ya to suck it,” he groans. so i stop licking his cock, sinking his cock slowly into my mouth. “th-that’s it, your mouth feels so fucking good. cock fits all snug, ain’t that right baby.”

jaehyun’s words ignited a fire within me. i eagerly began sucking his cock, bobbing my head while he held me. while i was doing my ministrations on his cock, i felt my breathing getting constricted so i stopped. i kept the head in my mouth still, using my tongue to swirl around it.

once i felt well again, i took him back in. my hands traveled to his balls, fondling them as i continued sucking on him at a slightly faster pace. the noises he emitted signaled he was close to releasing. so in a despair, jaehyun’s hips began moving. he fucked his cock inside my mouth ruthlessly as i gagged and tears rolled down my face. yet still it felt so good; i didn’t stop the swirling of my tongue on his cock nor the fondeling on his balls.

“so close baby, just a bit more,” he moans. a couple more thrusting of his hips into my mouth, he releases inside it. the taste of his cum courses throughout me. he pulls his cock out, using his fingers to shove back any of his cum that had escaped. i swallowed all that he gave me, opening my mouth to show there was no more.

“get up and bend over,” his deep voice says. i do as he says once more, placing my hands on the door whilst my ass comes into his view. i hear him emit a pleased moan before groping my ass. “so beautiful,” he mutters.

you feel as he slides his cock in between ur ass, rubbing it against you. almost naturally you begin to move, you wanted nothing more but for him to fuck you. a low laugh comes out of his mouth before he slaps your ass. you couldn’t help but yelp in surprise. the coolness of the door, brushing against your already hardened nipples.

you feel as he slides his cock in between ur ass, rubbing it against you. almost naturally you begin to move, you wanted nothing more but for him to fuck you. a low laugh comes out of his mouth before he slaps your ass. you couldn’t help but yelp in surprise. the coolness of the door, brushing against your already hardened nipples.

it wasn’t long though before he slid himself inside you. his cock enters you almost smoothly. “so wet, it slid right in,” he chuckles, fingers digging into your ass.

he stays pressed against you for a while before he pulls back, cock sliding out too. jaehyun slides back in, those gummy walls of yours still tightening around his cock. he fucks you ruthlessly and brutally, not caring how loud you were because after all the noises coming out of you were a symphony.

his pace doesn’t falter, keeping it past 100. the sweet chants of his name, pushing himself forward. he slaps your ass more than once when he notices how you’d tighten around him even more. “i-i’m gonna cu-“ he interrupts you. jaehyun uses his hand to turn your head around, locking his lips onto yours. the two of you hungrily kissed one another, so lost in it that you failed to notice when his hand traveled down.

you moan into the kiss when you feel his digits, working on your clit. pinching and rubbing you so good that you felt your stomach tighten. letting go of his lips, saliva connecting you moan out loud when you feel your orgasm unleashing. you faintly hear the sound of it splashing onto the floor, making a mess. “good girl,” he praises you as he continues fucking into you.

your orgasm only made you tighten around him all the more, scrambling with jaehyun’s brain. he was getting close and you could feel it in the change in pace. his cock twitches inside you and he slaps your ass roughly one last time before you gush inside you. his hot white seeds painting your womb, stuffing you full.

jaehyun pulls out hesitantly, his eyes feasting upon your fucked state. his seeds slowly spilling down your legs. “not yet,” he mumbles before he effortlessly carries you to the bed.

he didn’t let you rest the whole night, continuing to spill deep inside you in the bed, against the wall, and in the bathroom where you two were supposed to “shower.” and well while he took you in the shower, it’d occur to you something important…

“happy birthday love,” you say as you kiss his lips. ah right, jaehyun remembers too that it was his birthday now. he smiles into the kiss, feeling your love. a long fucking later, the two of you collapse on the bed, both so utterly exhausted from the night’s activities. the last thing you remember was when he engulfs you into him, pecking your head as your eyes flutter shut.

└───❀̥˚───❀̥˚┘

the sun shines through the curtains, stirring your eyes open. you grumble as you turn to the other side of the bed, prying jaehyun’s hands off of you. you get up to use the restroom as you had the urge to pee.

once you finish your business, you go over to the sink to wash your hands, looking in the mirror. the hickies and love bites all over your body capturing your attention. that dumbass, you thought.

making your way out the bathroom, you notice jaehyun sitting on the edge of the bed. “awake already?” he asks. i smile, “i should be asking you that birthday boy.”

“come here,” he says. “i’m not gonna suck you off again,” i replied. his face saddened, “why not?” “i know you’re just teasing me,” i said. he chuckled before signaling me over. i go over to him, sitting beside him. “how’d you sleep,” he asks, resting his head on my shoulder. “like a baby,” i reply. “how about you?” he pondered for a moment, “the best i’ve ever slept in my whole life,” he answered. i giggled at his response. we stayed like that for a while, his head resting on my shoulder and mine on top of his, in silence before he looked up to kiss my lips. the kiss was gentle and full of love.

he pulls away, “i love you.” i smile at him— i know that you love me, you don’t need to remind me. “i love you too jae.”

soon after, jaehyun gets up saying he needs to use the restroom. i’m left alone in the room, lost in my own thoughts until i hear a phone ping. i turn to the nightstand beside the bed. jaehyun’s phone is the only one there. i inch closer to grab his phone as curiosity took over me.

phone in hand i press on the screen, a message displayed on his home screen. an unsettling feeling set in my stomach, nauseating even. my fingers moved on their own, inputting his pass code. then my fingers tap on the message’s app.

i froze. my heart stopped beating. the feeling of wanting to throw up arising in my throat. this couldn’t be, no what?

yuna…

what was her contact doing in his phone. it didn’t make any sense.

the message he received from her was simple: “happy birthday.” however there were 10+ messages left unopened. once again my finger moved on their own, opening their chat.

my eyes watered until eventually tears came spilling out of my eyes. i couldn’t believe what i was seeing. messages yuna sent over the course of our relationship. from “i miss you” to “i’m lonely, miss you fucking me.” and probably the worst of it,  images of her bare and open displayed. i was beyond sick to my stomach.

however, that wasn’t even the bad part. as i scroll further up i found messages in which he had responded to. their conversations disgusted me, how could he do this while we dated? while he whispered to me he loved me? had it all really been nothing but a lie, a play?

“hey baby, how about we- shit!” jaehyun says coming out of the bathroom. he notices your sobbing state, his phone in your hands. he rushes over to you, “wh-what happened baby?” he asks. though as he reaches over to try and wipe the tears off your face, you swat his hand away. he widened his eyes in surprise, you’d never done this before.

you shove the phone to his chest, in which he takes it into his hands. all color drained from his face when he saw what it was that made you like this. “look y/n i can explain,” he starts off but you stop him. “explain what?! how since the start you’ve been cheating on me!?” i replied back in a harsh tone. i begin to get up from the bed, roaming the hotel room in search of my clothes. “j-just please, baby hear me out,” he continued.

“fine, i’ll hear you out,” i said, picking up my clothes. jaehyun begins, “i-i well fuck, where do i even begin,” he groaned, palming his face. you made a sour look, it’s so bad he doesn’t even know where to start, you think as you pull your dress over your body.

“you know when i first approached you asking to fill in as my fake girlfriend?” he starts, but when you don’t respond he continues. “you told me that day that if it was a ploy to get back with her, you wouldn’t do it…” again, he is met by your silence. “well, in truth y/n that was all there was to it. my father didn’t really care if i had someone in my life or not, i.. i just selfishly wanted her back. at the time however i knew she wanted nothing to do with me, so then popped the idea of using you as a means to get back with her.”

“you’re disgusting,” i say, crying all over again. his face showcasing hurt. how could he be the one hurt in this situation, you thought.

“you’re not wrong about that,” he says. “so then when did it start?” i questioned. “the day after we met my father,” he confessed. “that following day i went over to your apartment complex, waiting until she appeared. and well when she did, i confronted her. that day i pleaded with her, and so we spent the entire day together. we managed to clear our misunderstandings, and well we ended up.. in my bed,” jaehyun continued, hesitating to say the last words.

his bed? the very first place we spent passionately together… i couldn’t comprehend it, my heart ached so much it started going numb.

“after that night, we actually never saw each other again. instead we resorted to calling and eventually just texting. it went on for a while actually, in fact a couple months after we actually started dating…” every word coming out of his mouth was another stab to me, hurting me the more he continued. “however… the more time i spent with you, knowing you all the more i began realizing how i’d fallen in love with you,” he confesses. “bullshit,” i blurted out.

“it’s not… please believe me y/n,” he pleads with me. “how could i? why should i? you fucking lied to me jaehyun!” i shouted, every raw emotion coming out.

“fine… if you won’t believe me that’s fine but, y/n i truly did fall in love with you. i love you to this day, this very moment. and since realizing that i stopped answering her, it didn’t matter to me when she’d occasionally message me because all i wanted was you!” jaehyun says.

“love doesn’t mean lying jaehyun.” i watched as he opened his mouth again, but closed it soon after. he knew you were right. “i- i get that i was in the wrong but-” he starts by saying before i decide to cut him off. “enough of this jaehyun, no matter what comes out of that mouth of yours won’t change my mind.”

“wh-what do you mean,” he mutters, his lips trembling. jaehyun feared what you meant by this, he feared his number one fear coming true. that fear was none other than losing you.

“i mean that we’re over.”

your words hit jaehyun like a bulldozer. so hard he almost feels the pieces of his shattered heart. never once in his life has regretted his life, unlike today. he should’ve told you, he knows he should’ve but he was too cowardly to do so. and now he’s bearing the consequences, watching you deeply hurt because of his actions.

when you feel as though nothing more could be said or done, you grab your purse and walked to the hotel doorway. you faintly hear as jaehyun calls out to you, but you try to ignore it. however he grabs one of your arms by your wrist, stopping you just as you were about to open the door.

you turn back, “what?” you say in annoyance. “pl-please don’t leave. just tell me how i could fix things, you-” you interrupt him again.

more annoyed this time you say, “what don’t you get!? jaehyun we’re over! nothing you say or do now is going to change what happened.” he grips you a little tighter, causing you to look up at him. your heart almost sinks as you see him with tears rolling down his eyes like waterfalls. oddly enough you also begin to shed tears.

“p-please,” you plead with him. “just let me go jae. you and i both know this is irreversible.” his eyes soften, causing you to look down. you just couldn’t look at him, it hurt you even more. that was when you noticed the small gift bag in your purse.

his birthday present. you’d forgotten to give it to him. you know that now is not the right time to give it to him, but nonetheless you still decide to do so. taking out the small gift, you hand it over to him. that causes his hand to let go of your wrist so that he’d be able to take the gift in both his hands.

swiftly you grab the door handle, opening the door. you glance back one last time, a frozen jaehyun in the doorway. “goodbye jaehyun,” you say as you walk out. then right before the door closes you hear him say for one last time, “i love you, y/n.”

└───❀̥˚───❀̥˚┘

once you made it inside the elevator you slumped down to your knees, waterfalls of tears omitting from your eyes. you couldn’t believe it, jaehyun… how could he. moments of the two you flashed through your head.

part of you wishing you’d said more, questioned him more. like asking him: “do you see her, in the back of your mind? In my eyes?” but then again part of it felt like it made sense now, why you were always on edge.

as you walked along the side walk, you thought that perhaps this was for the best. i mean everything happens for a reason after all. one day this would be all but just a fleeting memory, a blurry memory i would have no recollection of. i’d hoped and prayed for that.

today. valentine’s day, cryin’ in the hotel… i know you didn’t mean to hurt me so i kept it to myself.

© jhdyuiee

2024.07.13

final a.n: as promised here is the other fic i planned to release 😛!! woohoo, this was a rlly fun one to write, since i deeply enjoy this song that the fic is inspired by. also ngl when i was writing the second snusnu scene i was playing cas new album “x’s” && started sobbing ㅠㅠ . oh pls anyhow i hope u enjoyed this one, it was quite long but felt worth writing 🤍 also! thank u for all the love on “million dollar baby !” i appreciated all the love and support thank uuuu! stay safe yall & love u all very much, jiji out 🤍 [ new fic out next week: expect haechan or doyoung 🤫 ] !

[damnfeelings09]

Who'd have known? - Shadow's version

A.N: Hello! been in a little writters block and finally pulled myself out of it thanks to @dayoftearsandmourning lovely request so this one goes specially for her (I hope it's what u wanted)I hadn't heard this song before but it's so cute an fluffy so I hope I made justice. Also yes I know Rouge is not (yet) on the SMU (sonic movie universe) but I dont care.

Shadow felt comfortable, welcoming the warmth in his chest, his muscles relaxing allowing himself to drift away, something that only happened when he was with you, even while doing the most mundane things like sitting next to you watching your favorite show. Shadow had stopped paying attention to the TV, fixing his attention on you noticing every change in your expression, the little smile peeking out of your lips, the flutter of your eyelashes, the way you puckered your nose when the main character got into trouble. He noticed how you hugged your torso, the cold of the night becoming present, without thinking, without planning it, he placed his arm around your shoulders, as if it were the most natural thing between you.

“…Put your arm around my shoulder And it was as if the room got colder”

The gesture did not go unnoticed by you. The warmth flooding your cheeks painting them pink, you enjoyed his company and certainly enjoyed his touch making circles on your shoulder. From time to time you would turn around and explain something about the chapter you were watching, Shadow would listen to you attentively but prayed that you wouldn't ask him what he thought because he would have to admit that he was lost in the sound of your voice just like that first time he saw you.

“I didn't know where this was going…”

Months ago, when Shadow had just arrived to live in Green Hills, at the request of Sonic and his friends, in a quiet morning walk in town he found a small cafeteria, it looked cozy and the sweet vanilla scent mixed with coffee gave him the courage to open the door.

You were arranging the desserts on the sideboard, when you heard the bell announcing a new customer, returning to your place at the counter, finding dark spikes and red tips, you lowered your gaze a little, crimson eyes looking back at you.  “Hello! What can I get you started today?” your smile warm and gentle, something Shadow was not so used to since he had come to live with the wackausky.

“Coffe,” he says, placing his hands on the counter.

“Sure thing, what kind of-?”

“Beans.” he cut you off.

“Oh… that's new. Let me see what I can do.” you walked to the back opening a new bag of coffe beans for the machine and putting em on a small plastic bag adding a sticky note to it. “What's your name?”

“Shadow?” he said in a questioning tone, not really understanding why you wanted to know.

“Okay, here you go Shadow, enjoy” you handed him the bag. Shadow took it, leaving a five dollar bill on the counter as he turned to leave “Come back anytime!” you say enthusiastically.

On the way back to the Wackausky's Shadow found his name written in beautiful calligraphy along with a smiley face. At the time he didn't understand why, but his heart had been turned upside down.

“I haven't left you for days now And I'm becoming amazed how You're quite affectionate in public”

It wasn't the first time you had spent time together, much less the first time Shadow had stayed at your house, yet the buzzing of Shadows mind was not leaving him alone, has it always been like this? Being... so close? In his mind he went over all those dates was that what they were? That you had had, the moments you had shared, comparing them with what was happening, however to him it seemed... the same. Nothing had changed between you, so why did he feel that something was going on? Why did the scent of your shampoo feel sweeter than usual? Why did you look prettier than usual under the warm light?

Shadow was in a lot of trouble, he couldn't figure out what had happened to you, why something felt different when he was near you, why his hands were shaking when he was next to you, why he was staring at you so hard when you put balm on your lips? he didn't know what to do, so he did the only thing he could do given the situation. Go to Rouge.

“What could possibly be? Perhaps I'm sick” he said as he paced back and forth with his hand cupping his chin “Nonsense, I am the ultimate lifeform, I can't get sick.”

“In fact your friend said it made her feel sick And even though it's moving forward There's just the right amount of awkward”

“Oh gods” said Rouge smacking his forehead with her hand “You're a fool Shadow, but you're cute so I'll forgive you. You’re not sick but you might as well be blind. You’re in love.

“In… love?” he said in a questioning tone “No, I don't understand what you're talking about.”

“You like her Shadow and it's so obvious to everyone that I'm surprised she hasn't noticed yet. Especially with that little dance you do whenever she's around.” Dancing? No Shadow didn't dance, she barely knew how to move her arms “You know, when you circle around her while she's cooking?”

“But I... I don't-” he said trying to defend himself.

“Oh my... you are really oblivious.”

Circling? What did Rouge mean by that? You and Shadow were... friends, yes, good friends. He liked spending time with you, listening to you talk about the new dessert recipes you would try in the cafeteria and what your childhood had been like in your grandmother's bakery and yes it was true that he constantly found himself walking in circles across the kitchen with you in the middle, but that was just his way of passing the time while you were concentrating on your work, wasn't it? You were just very nice, kind and always had a smile for him. Shadow loved your details like his bag of coffee beans every day waiting for him or the notes wishing him good morning, they made him feel special and he’d be lying if he said he hadn't noticed the recent appearance of hearts around his name on every note. But that's all it was, right?

“You told your friends, they all know We exist but we're taking it slow Let's just see how it goes”

Slow but steady you had fallen for him too. Too scared to accept your feelings, you didn't know if Shadow shared what you did and you didn't want to ruin his friendship over a simple crush. Except it wasn't just a crush, you constantly found yourself thinking about him, buying things just because they reminded you of him, longing for the clock to move faster to the number 9, for that was the time Shadow always arrived at the coffee shop.

The doorbell rang and as if your prayers had been answered there stood the hedgehog you so longed to see. Shadow had a frown on his face, as if he was worried about something, next to him Rouge was whispering in his ear.

“Hey guys!” you said coming out from the counter to greet them giving them a kiss on the cheek as was your custom. Shadow blushed as he felt your lips on his muzzle, averting his gaze to the new decorations you had added to the cafeteria. The painting of a reddish comet streaking across the sky among the stars hung high above their heads. Shadow admired the painting beside you.

“I like it”

“So do I, it made me think of you” you said without thinking. The curiosity present in Shadow “Cause... you were a star lighting up the sky, bringing your brightness to where it's needed.” Red cheeks on your face as you spoke “you okay?” you said as you noticed Shadow hiding his head in his hands, a soft click click click coming from him.

“Are you mine? Are you mine? 'Cause I stay here all the time”

“These two are going to need more help than I thought,” Rouge thought.

That's how we arrived at this moment, both of you sitting on the park bench watching the sunset. A bouquet of yellow and lavender flowers on your lap. He had done just what Rouge had advised “take her somewhere nice, buy some flowers and confess your feelings”, except he was having trouble with the last part. For the first time in his life he felt... unsure, what if it was all in his mind? What if Rouge was wrong? Shadow couldn't bear to lose someone special, not again.

“This feels so good” you said leaning into him, your head on his you felt his body stiffen against your touch, your little finger on his hand seeking to intertwine your fingers with his. Maybe it was the heat of the moment or the dizziness your scent gave him, maybe it was the lavender haze in his mind, but somehow he found the courage to speak.

“I... I like you.”

“I like you too Shadow.”

“No, I mean, I-I think I love you.”

“Who'd have known? Who'd have known? When you flash up on my phone I no longer feel alone Let's just stay, let's just stay”

You looked at him, your face tilted to one side and a slight blush starting to grow as the butterflies in your stomach flutter uncontrollably. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine this would happen but as you tried to keep it cool you couldn't help but let a small smile creep across your face as Shadow confessed his feelings. “I think I love you too” you said intertwining your fingers with his as if a promise had been sealed between the two of you.

“Now let's just see how it goes Let's see how it goes”

[blue-jisungs]

JAM & BUTTERFLY

author's note. i love wonwoo so much?! also this songs is so cute wtf:(

summary. just a sweet morning with your boyfie<3

word count. 1036

warnings. may appear as a slightly suggestive if u squint :3 and! shirtless wonu (blame @slytherinshua)

warmth spread on your skin, sunlight peeking on you through the window. as you slowly stirred awake, you embraced the feeling of coziness – fresh air, comfortable blanket and duvet, fluffy pillow… warmth, so much of it. 

but in a pleasant way. a way that hugs you and surrounds you in a bear alike grasp. 

and you knew that another source of it was your personal teddy bear boyfriend wonwoo. 

finally peeking an eye open, you saw the man himself. and, as per usual, mere seconds after waking up you were already stunned by his beauty. 

he had his glasses on, resting on the ridge of his pretty nose. plush lips were parted as he was focused. wonwoo was reading a book, holding it with his right hand – pinky and thumb holding the pages down as the rest of fingers were supporting the weight. his upper back was pressed against the headrest, probably not the most comfortable position.

the sunlight fell on his figure, usually ebony eyes being now lighter, reminding you of pools of honey. they moved as he scanned the letters, fully emerged in the text.

sliding your gaze down, to his attractive neck and collarbones… down to his bare chest. you couldn’t help but smile, the gesture probably imprinting on his skin. 

that is always a signal that the weather has shifted and it’s warmer: wonwoo is sleeping without his shirt. not the flowers blooming or astrological signs… just wonwoo and his lack of upper piece of clothing. 

”someone’s awake, hm?” he hummed, his deep morning voice sending shivers down your spine. you’ll never get used to this - even though his voice (and laugh) might be the most beautiful sound in the whole universe. 

“mhm…” you purred, too lazy to form words yet. 

you just realised wonwoo’s left hand was holding you. it snuck under your (his) oversized t-shirt and moved in soothing motions on your bare back. 

deciding to get even more of him, you shuffled closer and tucked your head in the crook of his neck. 

“i made breakfast, it’s still warm” wonwoo announced softly and you could feel the vibrations coming from his neck when he spoke. 

whatever he did, it always gave you butterflies. whether it was… breakfast in the morning or just washing the dishes for you. he made feel like a teenager again; all sweet inside. 

“in a sec…” you grunted, letting your eyes close again. you were just so… comfy… so… 

“hey, misses, don’t snooze” wonwoo chuckled, his chest buzzing. a smile sprung on your lips but your eyes remained closed. 

“you’re reading either way, i’ll just nap” replying, you weren’t sure how he understood you: half of your words came out as a slurred speech. 

but he understood, he always did. 

you felt him move a bit, probably to put the book away. then, it was all sudden but oh so soft, his right arm wrapped around you as well. your face momentarily squished into his chest (not like you minded) before he quite literally manhandled you – rolled over a bit closer and then made you sit up on his lap. trapping him between your thighs, one hand resting on his chest and the other rubbing your eye in a sleepy manner. 

this was apparently very funny because wonwoo laughed wholeheartedly, hands squeezing your sides.

“what?” you huffed, trying to act annoyed. 

“you’re just so cute, baby” he replied with that boyish smile of his. 

there was a certain way in which he looked at you. for a while you didn’t realise, only when your friends pointed it out: wonwoo admired you, looked at you as if you hung the stars yourself. 

“don’t look at me like that” you giggled, realising he’s doing it now. sure, he wasn’t doing it in purpose. but wonwoo just couldn’t help himself but scan your pretty features, take in your appearance in front of him – basking in sunlight, having messy hair and a bare face. 

“why?” your boyfriend teased, poking your sides gently. 

“because i’m shy” you let out a grunt and hung your head down, trying to hide your face from him. 

“ah…” he sighed, amused. you moved closer and pecked his forehead, taking his hands off you in the meantime. 

and then you tried to escape, to brush your teeth. 

keyword: tried. 

because in no time wonwoo’s cat-alike instincts trapped you in his hold again. 

“where are you running off to?” he teased and patted the spot were you were sleeping. you sat there, crossing your legs and as you yawned loudly, he placed down the breakfast on a wooden trace. 

fresh strawberries and some watermelon (no blueberries, though), toast with jam, croissants with chocolate and coffee. 

“when did you prepare that?” you asked and reached for a strawberry. wonwoo shrugged and grabbed the toast. 

“i woke up quite early, couldn’t sleep. i went on a run and on my way back i made the coffee. i decided to leave it here and read a chapter or two… and then you woke up” your boyfriend explained casually but your heart was racing like crazy. he’s saying it like it’s nothing but… you were whipped. wonwoo was like honey, you were like a bee – not only was he sweet but it would always make you stick to him. maybe it was a cliche metaphor but that’s how you felt. 

you noticed a bit of strawberry jam in the corner of his lips and you just smiled, reaching for the croissant. 

“thank you, i appreciate it” you hummed before taking a bite. 

“anything for you, angel” wonwoo smiled sweetly. 

after finishing the breakfast and putting away the plates, you decided to stay in bed a little more. you grabbed a tissue and cleaned wonwoo’s face from the jam, giggles and chuckles escaping from both of you. 

“a big baby, hm?” you cooed, cracking a grin. wonwoo just rolled his eyes dramatically and after you threw away the tissue, he pulled you closer. capturing your lips in a kiss, you could taste the sweet, sweet strawberry jam. smiling into the kiss, melting upon the moment you came to a conclusion that what’s what dating wonu feels like. like jam and butterflies. 

main masterlist | event masterlist

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @mon2sunjinsuver,, @eternalgyuuuu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,, @mine-gyu

[lazysoulwriter]

A Quiet Symphony - Paul Mescal.

requested! hope u like it. changed a little bit.

The early morning light filtered through the curtains of their cozy Dublin home, casting a golden glow over the wooden floors. Paul was already in the kitchen, the soft hum of the espresso machine blending with the faint melody of a song he couldn’t get out of his head. He hummed along as he prepared breakfast, his movements slow and deliberate, savoring these rare moments of tranquility.

“Daddy, can I help?” A tiny voice interrupted his reverie. He turned to see their five-year-old daughter, Maeve, standing in the doorway, her hair a wild mess from sleep, clutching her favorite stuffed fox.

Paul crouched down, a grin spreading across his face. “Of course, my little chef. What should we make today? Pancakes?”

Maeve’s eyes lit up as she nodded vigorously. Moments later, the two were standing side by side, Paul guiding her small hands as they mixed the batter. Flour dusted her pajamas, and her giggles filled the air when he tapped her nose with a bit of it.

Upstairs, his wife stirred awake. The sound of laughter and the aroma of coffee lured her from the warm cocoon of their bed. She smiled, wrapping a robe around herself and padding down the stairs. She paused at the doorway, leaning against the frame to watch the scene unfold.

Paul’s back was to her, but she could see the love in his every move. Maeve, perched on a stool, was now attempting to pour the batter onto the skillet. Her concentration was intense, her tongue sticking out slightly—a habit she’d picked up from her father.

“Morning, my love,” she greeted softly, her voice carrying the warmth of the home they’d built together.

Paul turned, his face lighting up at the sight of her. “Good morning, gorgeous.” He leaned in to kiss her cheek, his hand briefly brushing against her bump. Their second child was due in just a few months, and the anticipation was a constant undercurrent in their days.

Breakfast was a lively affair. Maeve insisted on serving everyone, beaming with pride at her slightly misshapen pancakes. Paul’s wife teased him about his overly dramatic praise, but her heart swelled at the way he made their daughter feel like the center of the universe.

Afterward, they moved to the living room. Paul stretched out on the couch, Maeve nestled against his side, and his wife curled up in the armchair with a book. The room was filled with a quiet contentment, the kind that only came from being with the ones you love most.

Later, as the afternoon sun began to dip, Paul sat at the piano, his fingers dancing over the keys. Maeve played on the carpet nearby, her laughter punctuating the music. His wife joined him, resting a hand on his shoulder as she leaned in to press a kiss to his temple.

“You’re my favorite song, you know that?” he murmured, looking up at her with a smile that reached his eyes.

She chuckled softly, her hand moving to rest over his. “And you’re mine.”

Life wasn’t always this idyllic. There were long days, hectic schedules, and the challenges that came with being in the public eye. But in these moments, surrounded by love and laughter, it was easy to forget all of that. Together, they had created a sanctuary—a life that felt like a quiet symphony, beautiful in its simplicity.

[slowd1ving]

Hiiiii can u write Kim Dokja x Goth!Male!reader this sponsor constellation is Apollo and The reader is a simp for Dokja ( I love this man )

LOVE LIKE BLOOD ・゜゜KIM DOKJA

“The life is short, and I’m running faster all the time, Strength and beauty destined to decay, So cut the rose in full bloom.” By chance you meet him, by chance you become his friend, by chance you stay by his side; until it cannot be called fickle, capricious chance any longer, but an example of the inevitable law of universal attraction between two starving masses. art by @ 1L9l2Aa8UCL0IGJ (blackbox) on x! also thank you anon this ask was so big brained I yapped on for like 5k words (very sorry if you wanted headcanon/drabble form I got the most profound inspiration for this at like 3am :3) also damn you have no idea how many song titles I was perusing trying to find a suitable one for this... pairing: kim dokja + male goth reader warnings: pretty graphic metaphors, child abandonment/implied parental death, child neglect + abuse, alcohol, smoking, depression + bullying, hurt/comfort, injury, violence (as it's orv), does 10+ year long pining and oddly tense homoeroticism need a warning, anon I hope you ENJOY reading because I enjoyed writing wc: 5.6k (YAP because i love this silly man, I've never written so much for a request before lmao)

ORV MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

Fundamentally, you and him are the same. 

There’s a sense of loss that’s too heavy for either of your bodies to comprehend. Rather than a heart, there’s a black hole right where the organ lies; so greedy, so hungry for acknowledgement. Born blue into this world—deprived of oxygen yet wailing, screaming for your voice to be heard—it’s little wonder you’ve always been avaricious for the love your parents could never give. The hands cradling the babe were never loving; they were clinical, they were covered in sterile blue gloves and they smelled only of caustic antiseptic. There was no kiss on your slimy, puckered forehead. There was only the sting of alcoholic sanitiser. 

Kim Dokja is similar, yet his parents wouldn’t (rather than couldn’t, for in your embittered mind the two concepts were so different as to be alien) spare him scraps of care. Rather than press a kiss to their son’s awaiting cheek, only bruises blossomed where the love should’ve been. No flowers were given for Children’s Day—only oily blood spilling and macerating against his chubby hands as a last, vibrant gift for their son. 

These two black holes sputtered on their axes while they spun round each other: gluttonous, esurient for care that didn’t come with bruises and wailing grief. 

Seoul had been unusually cold; blue afternoons spanned across the school rooftops. They were frigid and foggy—perfect for avoiding detection. Thus, the boy without kisses (only contused skin) encountered another like him on the rooftop that day. Against the haze, your own cigarette smoke had dulled the edges of what he saw—a boy canted against the railing with rippling earphones and a head tilted so far back he could taste the polluted mist. 

A merger had occurred. 

And though neither of you said it, there was an unspoken recognition of each other’s greed in that moment. Your eyes, ghosting over his injuries while the heavy bass played and the prussic wisps trailed around him: deep reverberations sounding a bit too like his careening heartbeat—as he made sure no one had followed him up here, that he was safe. And his umbrous eyes—honed in on the cigarette wedged between your lips, now stained black from the gloss decorating your humourless smile.

Maybe it was just that inherent feeling of kinship that came with avariciousness: a snarling sort of camaraderie that snagged at your skin with its claws. The wounds left behind were tender, but tender was precisely the adjective you were looking for—as was he. 

And so, Kim Dokja found himself coming to this particular rooftop the next day. When his breathing came ragged and his vision began to swim, he instinctively sought the numbness the frigid azurine firmament would bring. Like a wounded animal, he sought safety. Flight over fight—a lesson he’d learnt too late. Bruised fists would never save him. 

There you sat—eyes closed and lips still glossed in modest black. There were silver rings on your hands; rings he’d seen flashing before his eyes before he was hit, that those people no longer sported. Quietly, he matched up the scrapes on your own knuckles to the ones decorating their faces: to their unusual sullenness today. They’d furtively sequestered themselves in a club room all break, touching their swollen lips and eyes with bruised fists. Bruised fists. Like trophies, the achromatic metal glinted against the cobalt haze, and for once, his heart didn’t skip any beats at the sight of the gleaming metal. Neither did you acknowledge his presence nor their sins, but still, he sat on the same bench you were sprawled upon: hugging his bag to his chest while he scrolled the hallowed pixels of Ways of Survival. 

There was no grand exchange of words, no heartfelt conversations between Kim Dokja and the boy with a messed-up uniform. 

This was how tentative company was kept for a fragile week. 

Tuesday was the day that fragility finally shattered. He still remembers every detail about it—down to the particular cigarette brand you’d purchased that morning, down to the chips in your dark nail polish, down to just how many rings you’d worn on your left hand (three—it was three rings). Tears had spilled down his cheeks that afternoon; they warped and distorted the words that had saved him thus far, evoked from the pain in his purple ribs and his empty stomach. Somehow, the salt he’d kept tightly bound had been coaxed by your cold presence—perhaps, knowing your indifference made it easier to cry pathetically in front of you. 

You still didn’t speak, but you did hand him a tissue. You still didn’t speak, but you did press your shoulder to his own trembling one: smelling of caustic smoke, and something rich and sweet lingering beneath the plumes. You still didn’t speak, but your rings clinked on your left hand as you unhooked the earbud in your pierced ear and offered it to him: fingers brushed against his palm as he was forcibly shocked out of crying any further, like a blubbering child faced with such a conundrum that their little brains focused entirely on that rather than the reason for their tears. 

Melancholy had streamed out of the device. Doleful chords twined against threnetic voices—which he could not translate nor understand but could feel in pulsing waves. 

In that short whorl in the great machine of time, in the chill of the blue hour, he could not help but feel warm.

And thus, that Tuesday changed the trajectory of this merger somewhat. A deafening hum had finally blossomed from the gargantuan event; your presence could no longer be described as distant. 

When he went to class the next day, you were in the seat next to him: a mirage brought on by his lack of food, no doubt. He limped to his desk, but there your corporeal form remained: this time with silver chains lining the base of your throat and a dry, sharp grin decorating your face. Sure, he knew there was a student that never showed up in his class, but he wasn’t expecting it to be you: your name now a permanent fixture in his mind. 

There was a new name for this phenomenon: friendship. 

The boy, with the pensive music and trophies stolen from Dokja’s tormentors, smiled up at the reader staring at him. It was an inviting gesture: the proverbial hand reaching out, the hand which he took.

You weren’t a particularly talkative friend at first: preferring to simply share your music rather than speak much. That was fine with him—it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to reading alone. Then, you started bringing boxes of food alongside your cigarettes: containers that lacked the refinement of store bought meals. One for you, and one sheepishly thrust out to him with a smile bright as burst yolk and as messy as it too. Consequently, he returned a wobbly, unsure smile back at you—not mentioning that the vegetables were slightly burnt, slightly too salty. But that was fine. The more lunches you brought, the more skilled your hands became—until he never felt truly full unless he was eating what you gave him. 

In return, he cracked open his soul: pried its rusted walls with bleeding fingernails in a gesture never before seen, not since his childhood when he still knew what hope meant. Dokja for once didn’t blubber apologies and pleas for mercy—but became a teenager rather than a groveller. He complained about teachers, he discussed Ways of Survival at length (noting how you listened even when you showed no particular interest in reading it), he finally developed his own, modest aspirations for his own life. Lying in his bed in his lonely apartament, it suddenly didn’t feel so claustrophobic (yet somehow far too big for one) when you were there with your shoulder just brushing his own. 

You were not as cold as you seemed: though this was always obvious from that fateful Tuesday. You made fun of and empathised with the eternal regressor; you diligently stood at his half-broken stove frying meat and vegetables; and you talked at length about whatever band you were currently into—“I’ll take you to one of their concerts when we’re older,” leaving your lips, for your dense black-hole hearts did not conceptualise a future where the other was not present. He saw your loneliness—heard the rumours of you bouncing around from orphanage to orphanage, roaming the streets and working nights rather than return to that boreal home. 

So, more nights than not, he woke up from his nightmares to see you sleeping on the small couch in his home—legs just about peeking over the armrest, for your avarice didn’t only cover the abstract but the heaps of food you swiped from the canteen (and over the past two years he’d known you, you got your growth spurt far more obviously than he had). It partly contributed to almost skittish aversion his tormentors had of him—one you never did acknowledge, and so he learnt quickly to not mention it either. In this way, he too never mentioned why he invited you to sleep over more nights than not. And so, neither of your selfish hearts ever spoke a word of pity, but rather conveyed an unspoken understanding that bound the two of you in this merger. 

This routine continued.

He enlisted after graduating from the local university, and so did you—suffering the eighteen months of hazing with the smoke lingering on your skin and that same, humourless smile he first saw on your face. Frigid mornings turned his own lips as blue as the sky, yet he found it was harder to feel the chill when he saw you. Just like back then, you wore the same smile that brimmed with such colour it was practically incandescent with its heat. 

Two outcasts. It was hilariously terrible. Two outcasts, still sharing a pair of earbuds that had seen better days—blaring out the dolorous music that had grown on him, that described this situation perfectly. Stars were strewn in the fabric enveloped around you: memories that would continue to shine even after the world slowly marched towards its apocalypse. 

In that cramped bunkroom, it had been just like school—blue nights with the moon just barely peeking through the window, with your leg still hanging off the side of the bunk and within his field of vision. And he still found the steady rise and fall of your breathing far more comforting than any white noise: like a guard dog, almost, you still shielded him by his proximity to you throughout the brutal eighteen months of mandated service. 

Adulthood had crept up unbidden. In his single-room apartment, he sat on his couch with your legs sprawled just as lazy as they had been eight years prior. Though, your appearance certainly had changed—beneath the loose material of your tank top, he could see the ink seeping and decorating your skin. He’d gone with you to the underground artists right after the discharge: worriedly biting his lip while you simply grinned at him as if there wasn’t a needle pressing into you. And despite his initial concern, he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away—sneaking glances even as he browsed through job sites since the winding patterns under the fabric and silver jewellery was oddly entrancing to the eye. 

In the end, he applied to the same company you had done on a whim: Minosoft, where you carefully wiped off the black residue on your lips and the smudged pencil round your eyes. You still shared your earbud with him on the subway (though you’d sent him your playlist aeons ago), you still smoked the same brand you did eight years ago, you still occasionally put on those rings you’d kept as prized trophies, you still made two sets of lunches for work. You still listened over drinks while hammered Dokja updated you on the latest update of Ways of Survival. You still angled your body just so, so that you would bear the brunt of Han Myungoh’s scolding rather than him. 

You hadn’t changed. 

But in some ways, he could no longer see the same boyish guy who’d awkwardly offered him his earbuds nine years ago. The look in your eyes was far more intense, the messy smiles splitting your cheeks were sharper, more overwhelming, and there was no longer any clumsiness in your movements from your sudden growth spurt from years prior. Even the very hand that occasionally clasped his shoulder, even the legs that you still casually flung over his on his beaten old couch, were far more scorching than he remembered. 

You had changed. 

And in the end, it was him who was left behind. 

Eternal loser, Kim Dokja. 

Though, he could never find fault with you for that. Not when you leaned over the tangle of limbs on his couch, not when he caught the thread of oud lingering beneath the smoke on your throat, and not when you thrust your phone screen at his face with that stupidly boyish grin that only peeked out when you brimmed with excitement—with a “look, I finally got us tickets for this festival!”. And he knew at that moment that you weren’t leaving him behind: stretching out your rough palm just like you had more than a decade ago. 

He let you tousle his hair to give it more spikes. He let you dress him up in your clothes—they sat too large on his frame, but he found himself unconsciously burying his body in the fabric that smelled like your laundry. He let you slip your rings onto his fingers: slender digits jolting at the sensation of the cool metal and the action itself. 

Finally, he let you rub your dark pencil on his lashline—lids fluttering up at yours while he did his best to not avert his stare. His gaze traced the bold lines of your brows and eyes, and finally onto the dark stain on your lips as you bit them in concentration. “There,” you’d murmured, gently grasping his chin. “That looks pretty.” 

And just like the loser he was, he felt his chest tighten at the casual compliment, for seemingly no reason. 

Over the din of the hall, he could barely hear the ebb and flow of music. Goth chords jostled him, weaving past the throes of post-punk and metal as band after band took the stage. In this crush of people, he was more focused on how your index finger threaded through his left-most belt loop; linking the two of you just enough that he wouldn’t get thrown into the mosh pit. No doubt the buzz of cheap liquor contributed to his distracted train of thoughts—he never was the best at handling alcohol. His hazy gaze distorted his view of your side profile; in the dim lights, obviously the wide smile (yolk-like, as was your grin years back) couldn’t possibly be that bright. 

It was at this moment that sentimentality got to him. He was thankful that his friend had stuck by his side for so long: gazing so softly at your happy expression he was unaware of his look himself. 

This was the night before the apocalypse began. 

When the crowds trickled out, when the reverb of bass still played through the club, you hugged him tight for coming with you. Outcast with the outcast, you’d thought introspectively. There were cheap spirits clouding your mind that night—a hangover would surely strike you come morning—which was why you weren’t as reserved as you usually were. As you leaned down to press the man into your arms, your lips had brushed past his cheek accidentally, and you could feel the black hole in the centre of your chest constrict. 

Profanities had whirled through your mind when the dark smudge remained on his cheek, and especially so as he made no move to wipe the umbrous gloss off on the subway back. Or maybe he just hadn’t noticed—not with the flush on his cheeks from the alcohol in his system. There was a terrible, discordant crescendo to your pulse as you gazed at him. The gloss, from where it smeared slightly past the boundaries of your lips, burned your skin. But you made no moves to wipe the corners either—for this night only, there was something linking Kim Dokja to you. 

Thus, for the first time since he was a mere babe cradled in his mother’s arms, there was a kiss planted on his cheek that wasn’t from a fist. An accidental one, but one that could not be considered devoid of affection. And though neither of you remembered it after the hazy stupor faded, it did not change the fact that it happened nonetheless. 

A small snippet of joy in the bleak landscape. A caesura found within the long, winding elegy of this world. A reprieve before tragedy. 

It was a fitting conclusion for the night before the end. 

✦ . 　⁺ 

[The free service has now been terminated.]

Back in the carriage, wedged between Yoo Sangah and Kim Dokja, the two of you had shared a glance confirming the unspoken truth. Minds intrinsically linked together—he did not need to speak for you to understand his thoughts immediately. And Yoo Sangah had recognised this—as did she remember the devoted gleam in your eyes whenever you spoke to or of the man seated adjacent to you. Yet ultimately, her lips would remain closed. 

When the scenarios began, it was Kim Dokja’s turn to repay you. He would be your shield moving forward—protecting your messy smile even as the world burned away. He vowed this to himself, and though the promise was heard only by him, it did not change the fact that the constellations watching him and his companions could see the oath brimming from him as he put you first. 

[Almighty Sun has sponsored you.]

Even when Apollo chose you as his incarnation, even when you were just as capable as you had been before the cataclysm occurred—he could not help but feel his fists clench as you put yourself in danger. 

“Hold on,” you’d murmured, rings flashing as you’d caught his wrist in your firm grasp. Even with his coins improving his stats, he still felt so much weaker than you—still the boy who ran to the rooftops while your fists bruised against the faces of those who tormented him. 

Had your touch always been so scalding?

Privately, he thought Apollo had chosen the right person—smile bright as the sun, skilled fingers deft enough to play the electric guitar you’d bought on a whim, presence practically a healing balm for his soul. 

“You’re injured, Dokja-ya.” And the words had made him shiver as the syllables ghosted over his flesh—your face was too close to his chest where he’d been slashed by a monster, while the affectionate tone added to his name made this situation far worse than it was. Secluded like this, in an abandoned corner of the station, it was easy to misread the situation; this was the only reason his face flushed red. His friend was far too close. When those aforementioned fingertips brushed over the wound—just grazing the wounded flesh—he jolted. From the pain, of course. 

[The Demon-like Judge of Fire has sponsored 200 coins.]

[The Demon-like Judge of Fire would like to see more action.]

“Steady.” You eased him against a pillar while ignoring the message—ignoring how your pulse was now leaden in your mouth, how the golden gleam stitching flesh back together seemed far more shaky than usual. Though, you couldn’t ignore the pain you felt as you saw the rise and fall of his torso grow shallow; you were useless when it counted—arrows meeting their target far too late. 

“Dokja-ya,” you breathed, sweeping the hair that plastered to his clammy forehead. He didn’t meet your eyes, and the heavy feeling in your chest grew more burdensome. He was supposed to tell you what was wrong; as his best friend, you duly heard his complaints and dealt with them where you could. More often than not, you could intuitively tell what bothered him; much like you had from the very first day you saw him all those years ago. And as time passed, the object of your adoration only grew easier to read. 

But he was never avoidant like this. 

What happened? As you watched him leave with heavy steps and not a glance spared back, you could feel the crushing weight of the sky drop back down on your shoulders. Fuck. Burying your face in your hands, you barely registered the message that popped up. 

[The Demon-like Judge of Fire expresses her sympathy.]

[The Demon-like Judge of Fire says she knows how the two of you can make up.]

[The Demon-like Judge of Fire sponsors 69 coins.]

[The Almighty Sun tells the Demon-like Judge of Fire to not be stingy.]

[The Almighty Sun sponsors 6969 coins.]

[The Almighty Sun empathises with a lover’s quarrel.]

“Shut up,” you seethed, and the bad mood carried on late into the night. It was obvious to anyone with eyes; the conjured lamps lining the perimeter of camp had seethed with you. Gold had been interspersed with bleeding red—crackling like true fire, though it was anything but. Even the tattoos that lined your skin had begun eroding into ember-like patterns, as though lava was breaking through the dermis of your skin. 

Unsurprisingly, it was Yoo Sangah that had approached first: past the harsh glow of your lamps, gracefully weaving through the brightness with the light steps that belied her nebula. She’d taken a glance at the incandescent splintering of your body, your hands furiously working away at the guitar plugged into your practically-bulletproof earphones, and finally the imposing frame of Yoo Joonghyuk only a few metres away as he stood guard tonight. 

But when you paused, when you hastily yanked the buds from your ears, she could also see the wobble in your lip. The furrow in your brows wasn’t angry, it was anguished, while the fearsome glare in your eyes contained only pain. If she was being honest, it was hard to approach you at work and even nowadays—with ease, you picked off enemies from a distance and your longbow conveniently morphed into two curved daggers when it came down to it. You were a maelstrom with the capacity to take lives—stained with blood as you bared your proverbial teeth at any threats to Dokja. But it was precisely that that allowed her to see your stupidly blind adoration of this man. 

(“Your devotion will only hurt you,” she says, as if that will dissuade you. You’ll take whatever feeling he gives you: greedily swallowing each and every morsel of emotion. Tender is your heart, but tender is good. It means you aren’t going mad over the situation you’re in.

“Yoo Sangah, I appreciate the advice,” you reply politely—you do respect her, after all. “But I do not mind that.”)

Yoo Joonghyuk had bemusedly watched as she left: staring the the dim red tattoos strewn across your body as if they could possibly help him decipher the fool in front of him. His Sage’s Eye flashed as golden as your lamps for a brief moment—detecting that your statement had, in fact, been true. 

Fool, he’d said as your hands flew over the fretboard once more. Fool, as you disappeared up the stairs to the rooftop. Fool, when your lips had pressed together tightly against one another. 

You did mind, even when you thought it was the unequivocal truth that you didn’t. 

Maybe it was futile to even think it, but he thought that idiot didn’t deserve the long-standing care in your hands, and the veneration in the timbres of your voice. It was pointless to get attached to someone like that—especially when the end of the world was upon you. 

But you wouldn’t know that, since you could not read his mind. But you wouldn’t know that, since he would never explicitly say it. But you wouldn’t know that, since you’d long-since accepted your self-torture as perfectly and utterly a part of what came with knowing Kim Dokja for as long as you did. 

The rooftop was like all other rooftops. Similar. The same. Azurine fog was at your fingertips: just like that day all those years ago. Except this time, Kim Dokja was not in your sights, and you were left alone with wisps of smoke trailing from your lips and no other company save the glowing stick in your fingers. Just like it had been; before you met the boy with a heart as greedy and all-consuming as yours. Before the merger between two black holes occurred. Before he ran up to the rooftops with bruises on his face and placed new stars in the endless vacuum of your universe. 

There was no charge in your phone, but the song that played that day still rested heavy in your neurons as you sprawled out on the bench. Mindlessly, you summoned the lyre-turned-guitar: doleful chords germinated, flourished and withered away once more under distressed fingertips. It was a night between scenarios; another caesura in this ceaseless tragedy. Though those days were filled with an empty stomach and an endless struggle, they were your halcyon days. 

Just like that time almost twelve years back, it was a blue Monday once more. 

Just like that time almost twelve years back, you didn’t hear the heavy run of footsteps through the heavy burr of music. 

Just like that time almost twelve years back, Kim Dokja’s black hole heart pulsed with each discordant twang of chords—though this time the link was acutely clear to him. 

The boy who once tasted the mist and tilted his body into oblivion was no longer there: replaced by a man who’d faithfully stayed by him for more than a decade. Though you hadn’t changed, not at all; not when he could still see the rings you took off his bullies, gracing your fingers just as they had back then. A trophy, dedicated to his protection. When his plans involved his sacrifice, you were the first to reach him. Your face was the first he saw, tears brimming from your lash line. For despite how you’d grown into your looks, you wore your emotions clear on your face. Your heart had been taken from the cavity in your chest and replaced with a dense core that greedily always wanted; yet it had been sewn messily onto your sleeve rather than discarded. 

Kim Dokja suddenly remembered another interlude. A club, where the amorphous ebb and flow of bodies could not sweep him away from your side—since you kept him there, treasured his presence enough that you hooked your finger firmly into his belt loop and rooted him there. An anchor: you’ve always been the rock beneath his shaky feet, after all. He remembered that, and not the endless churn of music that made your face glow with happiness. 

(A black smear of gloss left on his cheek. His hands, carefully wiping eye pencil away yet not touching the remnants of your lips—not until it smudged away on its own, forgotten for all of time but this day.)

A sun of his own. The reader trod his slow orbit around you long before he could conceptualise the gravity that drew two masses towards each other. Newton’s theory of universal gravitation be damned; you were the only centre of the universe, the only body that ever existed to draw others towards your brilliant light. 

His eyes flickered over the smoke in your lips: the dim embers of a glow from the lines in your skin made it seem as though you were alight yourself. Instinctively, physically, he was compelled towards the patterns just like he had been all those years ago: your music, your stupid piercings and your stupid discussions about bands and the stupid way you listened attentively to his yapping about Ways of Survival. Stupid, because why did you do that? Why did you convince him to make a shrine for you in his heart? Stupid, because why is it only now that he can see what exactly lays atop the stone altar?

“Kim Dokja,” you spoke through your plumes, formal in the way he knew you spoke when you were upset and trying to keep it together. He swallowed, and he could feel the same pitter-patter of his pulse as he did all those years ago—heartbeat colliding loudly in his ear drums while he steps towards you, unsure. You didn’t let up with the strum of strings: electric in the drizzle of rain and wind and cold Seoul air. 

For once, he was the one looking down at your impassive face. He was the one brushing his fingers through your hair, he was the one whose hands made themselves comfortable on shoulders—for it’s always been you wrapped around him, you whose legs wedge on top of his domestically on his shitty couch in his shitty studio flat. 

“It’s Dokja-ya,” he corrected: tongue thick and leaden. It constricted his larynx and made his cadence oh so small at this moment. Tentative. Because he was your close friend and you his. He was the one who knows all your expressions—even the ones you deliberately tried to hide from everyone. He was the one who’s been with you the longest: always staring up at the muscle of your back while you act as his shield. He was the one who’s been blind. 

Your fingers halted against the strings and the instrument dissolved into the wind; the concert for two had reached its conclusion, just like it had all those months ago. For despite being packed full of people, the club only ever had two people in it for him. 

Lazily, those same hands that have bruised for him—but somehow had a touch that was far more painful than any torment that was physically inflicted on him—wrapped round his own that rested neatly on your shoulders. 

“Dokja-ya,” you answered, and the axis the world tilted on is finally righted. This man, Dokja thought—and his umbrous eyes traced down the warm lines of your face, stopping on your lips. Bittersweet. 

“Don’t leave me,” he all but begged—voice only a whisper. Don’t die on me, the black hole wanted to say instead; selfishly wishing for you to always be by his side so he doesn’t see you depart this world first. That would end him more than anything else. 

“I can’t leave you,” you murmured, and oh, the hand brushing his tear-stained cheek suddenly made more sense. “Dokja-ya, I should be telling you that.”

He pressed his face into your warm palm—scorching even with the boreal damp settling over his skin. There was something twisted within him that revels in your admission: that you, too, feared him abandoning you just as he feared you leaving him behind. 

“Idiot.” And he twined his fingers in yours, seeing the surprise on your face bloom—for he’s already established that you’re ever so easy to read. Idiot, because it’s ludicrous to even think that he’d ever willingly walk away from you like that. 

“You’re the idiot,” you whispered as your phantasmal hand ghosted from his cheek to his collar, yanking him so he fell onto the firm sprawl of your legs—in a way he’s never felt. So warm, he thought through the haze as he straddled your languid body—fit so right against you that there was none of the tension nor the anticipation that he might’ve felt. His hands splayed out onto your chest, feeling the steady beat of your heart, tracing the glowing lines he adored on your body. 

So warm, he thought as your hands gently cupped his face—for you’ve never been anything but soft with this stupid man perched on your lap. 

So warm, as your lips met his and he melted into your body. He could taste the acrid smoke on your tongue, but he could also taste the food you’d prepared earlier for him, and the traces of whiskey you’d scavenged. All traces of you; his insatiable heart could not help but want to merge into you. 

So warm, as your tongue melded against his and he could feel the seam of his mouth against yours grow ever more ragged and messy. His hands desperately curled into your shirt, and he could feel your palms pressing harshly against his waist and canting his torso into yours more—something which his avaricious heart eagerly swallowed. 

On a blue Monday just like this one, two boys met for the first time once more on a rooftop just like this one. 

Again. Like and like created a merger for the second time, or perhaps it was already the third. Or fourth. Or the thousand-eight-hundred-and-sixty-third time this has happened—over and over and over and over. 

Fate has a funny way of bringing people together, or maybe it’s just the intrinsic law of gravitation that binds two black holes in a binary system. 

Blue Monday. What a silly notion, when the man beneath Kim Dokja is as warm as the brilliant sun. 

✦ . 　⁺ 

Fellas is it gay to pine after your best friend for over ten years and have oddly homoerotic moments with them

✦ . 　⁺ 

EXTRAS

[The Demon-like Judge of Fire returns from her work and asks what she missed.]

[The Almighty Sun keeps his lips shut.]

[The Abyssal Flame Black Dragon stays silent.]

[The Prisoner of the Golden Headband, perhaps not fearing his imminent hair loss, opens his mouth.]

[The Demon-like Judge of Fire promptly goes catatonic and explodes.]

[ghostbustting]

some lazy sex with James in the afternoon,like they are just sitting on the couch and she straddles him and rides him slowly and lazily(ig load/reload James would fit this scenario) thank u <3

♯ ; “𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑳𝒀„ ༘⋆

James Hetfield x Reader.

Contains smut (p in v, riding), slight fluff.

Song: Heavenly by Cigarettes After Sex.

The damp state of the pavement I step on caused the steps of my boots to sound louder as I walk up the steps to my home, the door that awaits looking as welcoming as ever, my body seeks the warmth that one of my favorite places always provides me with. Also with the knowledge that the man I seek love in was also waiting for me behind those walls.

A perfect combo of what I need right after a long tiring day of work and endless lectures from my boss.

Turning my attention away from the beautiful gradation of afternoon skies, my hand dug into the bag hanging on my shoulder, wriggling through items and items till I find the cool metal of the silver key, pulling it out right away.

Unlocking and opening the door themselves feels like a reward. A fresh air of home to breathe. As a child, you might wish to be out of your house most of the times. But now, I truly wish nothing more but to have even the tiniest time in the universe to just get the chance to lay in my bed with my arms around him while rain pours outside, not a single care of the world and definitely not a single lecture ringing in my ear from that sissy man I had the torture to call my 'boss'.

The first few steps I took into the house, I can already see him, feeling that damn flutter in my heart whenever my eyes land on him- almost as if I haven't been with him for years by now, almost as if each new sight of him makes me a new woman.

James was sitting on the couch with his body leaned back all the way, his head resting on the folded arms he had behind his head while his eyes had a focused stare at the show playing on the television set in our living room. My eyes didn't leave out the sight of his spread legs, the fabric of his dark jeans stretching out. The focus he had on the telly wasn't long the moment my presence became noticeable, his eyes darting away from the screen and towards me, his pupils lighting up with a lazy smile on his face.

What a sight you are, James Hetfield.

"If it isn't my hardworking woman." He teasingly spoke in a breath as one of his arm leave the back of his head to beckon me with his fingers to come closer. "How was your day? That old guy still being a pain in the ass?" He chuckle softly.

My hand discarded my bag away, tossing it onto the floor without another care for the things packed inside of it, my care only for him. The closer I get to him, the more I notice the way his eyes weren't as energized as they usually were, James looking rather... sleepy. Yet still, it didn't really change the fact his face looks so fuckable kissable.

I sigh as my body gently yet immediately drop onto his lap with my legs on each side of his thighs, almost like a reflex or a habit by now. His lap seemed to be the only rightful place for my ass to be placed on and James was definitely not going to deny that. In fact, he'd be the one who claim that in the first place.

My chin rest on his shoulder as I mumble into his ear, "Don't wanna talk about my day." I let out a small tired out grunt before relaxing to the feeling of the touch of one of his hands on my back, rubbing soothingly up and down while the other was running through the strands of my hair instead, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.

"That bad?" He chuckles yet again, head leaning down to press a soft kiss to my temple before trailing to my neck, settling on the crook of it, a small shaky breath escaping my lips when I feel the ticklish feeling of his moustache rubbing against my skin. The feeling of his body under mine felt like being burried in layers of warm thick blankets, the warmth of his skin was exactly what I needed after a long day in a season such as this.

”You’re here now, that’s all that matters..”

Pressed against my neck, I can feel the curve of his lips form a soft smile at my words, the smallest gesture that cause much more to me, my body relaxing so muh to the point i feel like turning to jelly, my body soon molding into his.

”Tired, mm?” He whisper as he stroke my hair again, that same hand slowly trailing down to my shoulder where he’d rub soothing circles to my skin before trailing down yet again, this time to my back. However, he was not stopping till he eventually reach my waist and his fingertips land on the waistband of my pants. “Just relax… You deserve it.”

The post-work tiring state my body was in was too consuming that I almost fell asleep right on his body, oblivious to the way his hands move across my body and the absence of my clothes. All I know was that just out of nowhere, the only thing on me was my button up shirt, which was now half undone, as well as the disappearance of James’ jeans that I had been sitting on, my ass now up in the air with the help of James’ large warm palm holding my ass, his other hand focused on aligning his now unleashed cock with the entrance of my cunt.

Scenarios such as this one wasn’t rare to be found during tiring Afternoons like this. We would occasionally find ourselves having gentle and sweet love making in order to relax. In a way, the way our soul and body meets and connects in this one particular activity, it feels so heavenly. His soul was is exactly where I want to be, where I belong. Just giving our love to each other feels like a gush of wind that was able to blow away all our stress that were once acting as a heavy weight on our shoulders.

I let out a small sigh of relief by the time he slowly drop my body, his full length almost immediately filling me up to the brim, yet so gently that it didn’t hurt me one bit, whereas it usually would with his often rough style of making love. I can feel the veiny skin of his length against my gummy walls, gently clenching around him.

My hands rest on his chest with my head laying completely on his shoulder, putting every bit of my weight on him as he welcomed me with his arms wrapped around my waist, fingertips grazing up and down my skin every now and then, his touch so gentle yet with so much love beneath all those gentleness.

”How lucky I am to find such a hardworking woman like you..” He whisper with his lips pressed onto my ear, his hot breath fanning against my skin here and there while goosebumps appear on my skin from the touch of his hand on my back, stroking my skin with feather-like touches. Each touch of his skin on mine felt like a dream.

A small whine left my lips, “The luck is all on my side..” I manage to whisper back before I try to lift my hips up, only managing to lift it shortly before dropping back onto his length, my body choosing a lazy ride to our releases. “My man..” I mumble as I lift one of my hand from his chest to lay upon his cheek, my head leans in just enough for our lips to meet one another, the kiss was rather slow yet sloppy as well, tongues meeting and wrestling every here and there.

Still, I maintain my lame attempt of a ride, using the smallest effort to push my hips up. Yet he didn't complain one bit, James seemed to rather enjoy the slow ride, the proximity allowing me to catch onto his small breathy grunts, holding and stroking my lower back.

Now and then, I feel the tip of his cock gently nudge a spot in me, nudge- not hit, due to the lack of energy I put in riding him. Pulling back from the kiss, my head have made a comfortable stay on his shoulder, one of the hands I had on his chest came up to play with the choker and the wolf pendant that loops around his neck. His eyes were unavoidable. His gaze soft yet cutting right through me even when I'm not looking.

As time goes by, I stop trying to ride on him, giving up. Instead, I slowly grind my hips against his again and again, the friction pulling out a small whine from the back of my throat, "James.." I mumbled out his name, almost unconsciously. Anyone would mistake me to be sleeping with my half lidded eyes. But I'm just simply loving the moment.

"Close?" His voice whisper into my ear, pulling my hair away so he could have a clear view of my dazed face, leaning down to press a kiss to my cheek. "C'mon, angel. Release it. You deserve it.."

I let out a sigh as I force myself to open up my eyes and softly smile up at him. I can feel him throb inside me, as well as my walls clenching around his length. My hands were holding onto his broad shoulders as eventually I feel my orgasm control over me, warm fluids of my release gushing out and around his cock, triggering his own release which was soon shooted into me, his cum painting white all over my walls as we sat there, body still connected as one, soul forever united.

James wrapped his arms around me, slowly pulling me down with him on the couch to lay down, my head resting on his chest that acts like a pillow to me, his cock slipping out of my cunt with a pop. The last thing I hear before falling into dreamland being,

"Sleep tight, angel. Dream of me."

[txmxkis]

i'm only really me when i'm here with you

pairing. boothill x gn!reader

genre. hurt/comfort

wc. 1.5k+

summary. you're determined to help boothill heal from his trauma by... doing his hair?

warnings. i took liberties with this, who knows what specific parts he actually has left or whether he can blush or not (in my heart he can lol), mention of boothill picking u up but i mean. he’s literally so strong he could handle anything, i made him soooo sad and it’s possibly wildly out of character, selfship coded as usual rip

a/n. continuing the tradition of using lyrics from songs on selfship playlists for fic titles lol. based on my tags on this post

they say that trauma is stored in the body, and while boothill didn't necessarily have a complete body anymore, this was still something that you thought about frequently when it came to his physical form.

regardless of just how much of his original self remained, there was still enough of him left that you were sure it had to be true in some capacity. after all, he retained his head and his heart—at least you were fairly certain—two of the most vital components of human anatomy.

it was so hard to read him. the real him. he tried so hard to always act confident and cool. actually, he didn't even really have to try or act. it seemed as if it came to him naturally and endlessly. there was a perpetual air of optimism surrounding him that was difficult to dim even on his most wearisome days.

even after experiencing whatever horrors he had to face from mission to mission, when he came home, the door to whatever room you were currently in would fling open—sometimes scaring you half to death—and he would greet you so happily that it felt as if there were no terrible things in the universe whatsoever.

you cherished his mannerisms, especially because you could be a pessimistic sort of person. rather frequently, in fact. you loved having him near you, able to draw laughter from you, however unwillingly it might be on your part at times. he was oddly skilled at making you feel assured and comfortable, in a way that nothing and no one had ever done before. you couldn’t seem to remember how you ever lived without his encouragement, and you didn’t think you could ever feel truly whole without it again.

there really was no accounting for his relentlessly positive attitude. given what he'd seen and endured, you thought it was damn near impossible to be as carefree as he seemed to be. at any rate, he did manage it. however, there were times, moments he rarely ever allowed you to witness, in which his façade would falter slightly and betray just how heavily the past weighed on him.

occasionally, you would catch him staring at his reflection, a downcast expression painting his beautiful features. every time you spoke of your family, you could detect glimpses of sadness in his eyes, albeit hidden behind a smile. once you even caught him crying as silently as he could—you assumed so as not to alert you—his shoulders sagging under an unforeseen weight, a look on his face that you could only describe as heartbroken. your own heart broke with his in that moment.

you always tried to be particularly attentive following those moments, but it was so difficult to get him to open up to you. he just wanted you to be happy. to not bother worrying about him. you had your own problems, after all, and there was no need for him to add to your burden. no need for him to ask for your pity.

he knew you cared for him deeply enough that it would cause you pain, and even if it was only a fragment of the grief that he lived with every day, he was sure that he would feel terribly and incessantly guilty about it. if he could remove every single aspect of your life that caused you suffering, he would do it in a heartbeat, and he could say that because it was one of the few original parts he had left. how could he add to that suffering by forcing you to imagine all the horrors from his own life?

it took so much time and effort on your part to convince him to open the door to himself, if even just a tiny crack. he was still extremely careful with his words and the details that he disclosed to you—he didn't want to overwhelm you, and he certainly didn't want to hurt you. in reality, these conversations, painful as they were for you to hear, actually helped you to feel as though you could comfort him more effectively.

yes, it hurt immensely to know even a small fraction of how much anguish he had experienced. yes, you despised the people who had done this to him and wanted to fight them yourself, in fact. yes, your chest felt tight with ache and sadness on his behalf. still, you could help him more by knowing than by not knowing.

eventually, you were able to make it this far, brushing through his hair as gently as your hands could manage. he had confessed to you in one of his more vulnerable moments that the white shock of hair on his head often served as a stark reminder of worse times, of the trauma and stress inflicted on his body. the admission gave you an idea, one that made boothill feel more than just a little bit exposed. he wasn’t accustomed to being looked after like this, with so much affection and love.

you began to make a routine out of it. every day you would do something with his hair—whether it was braiding it and tying it up intricately to make him feel pretty or simply combing through the strands and allowing them to cascade around his shoulders and down his back.

sometimes you would sit him in front of a mirror while you worked so that he could see exactly what you were doing in the moment. he didn’t quite understand how it all came together, but he found it fascinating to see how you twisted and weaved. at times, you were so focused on the hair in your hands that your brows would furrow, tongue poking out slightly between your lips. in the reflection, you genuinely looked like you were enjoying yourself.

even more noticeable to him was the expression you wore when you looked at him through the mirror. your gaze was so full of tenderness that his chest ached. he could swear that his heart actually skipped a beat. whenever that happened, you could see a flaring blush creep up his cheeks and into his ears, and you couldn’t help but laugh just a little bit at how endearing it was.

other times, you would settle on the couch, with him seated on the floor between your legs, adorning his hair with the cutest accessories, the two of you laughing and joking the whole time. you would delicately twist the locks back, securing them with pretty, multicolored clips that shone in the light.

when you were done, you would lead him slowly to a mirror, hands over his eyes, nearly stumbling over his legs as you walked behind him. you would pull your hands quickly from his face, revealing your handiwork, beaming with pride and grinning at how adorable he looked. he loved every minute of it—and every bit of you, he would think to himself as he turned to pick you up and spin you around, laughing in that deep voice of his. then he’d set you down gently, thanking you for your hard work with kisses sprinkled across your face.

days that were particularly trying for him would simply be spent in comfortable silence. when he didn’t feel like talking from the pain of it all, he would wordlessly lay his head on your chest as you ran your fingers through his long locks. feeling your touch—the slight pull on his scalp, the tickle of shifting hair—it all made him feel so relaxed that he could melt right into your skin until you absorbed him fully into you. often, the combination of this and the gentle, steady beat of your heart would lull him to sleep, and seeing his expression ease and soften in these moments was all the reward you ever needed.

in the beginning, it was unclear whether this dedicated time spent caring for his hair was helping or not. over time, however, you noticed a glimmer in his eyes—something that told you he would be alright, despite everything.

pain still remained; it always would, but instead of constantly gazing at his reflection with grief, every once in a while you would catch a hint of a smile pulling at his lips. it was as if he was remembering how you hummed while placing those clips, or how he had teasingly whipped you with his hair on a more playful occasion, or any number of positive memories that you had put so much effort into lovingly crafting with him.

you were determined to do your best, slowly but surely, to lighten his burden—or at least help carry it. there was no reason for him to feel alone when he had you by his side. and if creating these happy memories was what you had to do in order to help him, well, you would gladly continue forever.

reblogs & interactions are appreciated! thank you for reading! <3 — txmxkis

[lasirenatarot]

“ LOOKS-MAXXING ” pick-a-card reading.💝

Your next glow up.

What can you do in order to have a big glow up?

Pick a pink 90s magazine cover:

—>Pile 1

Your next glow up will most likely be related to getting « in peace » with your s€xuality prior to glowing up both physically and mentally. What I mean by this is you will probably need to get rid of any self doubts about your looks, any shame around your $£xual side due to past traumas or for some the way you were raised, some may have been raised in a controlling or conservative family.

One of the ways you can make this glow up happen is if you really enjoy your life and what you do. Try to practice your hobbies more and work on bettering your natural talents, by doing that you may find your purpose in this world and this will lead to the biggest glow up ever.. for some it may lead them to their dream career.

Something which appears in the cards is that you may need to forgive your parents or parental figures for the way they treated you in order to reach peace within yourself and your physical body. Forgive yourself as well for not acting in the « right way » or not looking a certain way, this is the best you could do at that point of your life . It is all in the past.

As for a physical glow up: judging by the pictures shown on the cards that fell, maybe start focusing on a regular work out routine, focusing on legs, butt or whatever you feel like you need to improve. Updating your clothing style may benefit you a lot. Stop caring about what others would say and pick clothes which give you freedom of expression, be yourself shamelessly. Some of you who chose this pile may have some creative vision which they may have been scared to express - do it. Meditation may help with your « glow up » in some form as well. Try bolder makeup looks and outfit choices.

Moodboard/Vibes for pile 1:

The vibes I get from this pile is totally Julia Fox as a persona,not only style wise. She’s unapologetically herself, maybe for some she’s a bit weird. But the main point is, despite people’s opinions and perceptions of her, she has always followed her own rules and expressed herself. Before she got famous she was a dominatrix, did a photobook, an art exhibition aand starred in a famous movie in which her character was inspired by her real life . All this happened because she was authentic,lived her life the way she wanted and followed her heart, exactly what u should do as well,pile 1.

Songs which remind me of this pile’s vibe:

—>Pile 2

Pile 2, you’re going through or will go through a huge transformation.. luck will definitely be on your side and you may find out answers for things which you’ve always wanted to know about. ( it can be pretty much about anything. If we are talkibg about a physical glow up exclusively, you may learn some very good beauty hacks soon. It can be about makeup, diet, exercise, skin care, personal development etc.. this is a general reading so I cannot be exact but whatever your case is it will lead to a HUGE glow up. Two of the cards are talking about some « secret knowledge » so whatever it is it will be significant for you.

This pile is very different from the first one as the glow up that appears here is not just about one or two things in your life or looks, it’s about everything. The things you can do in order to glow up faster, pile2, is maybe start watching makeup tutorials and pay attention to new techniques or products you haven’t heared before, ask people for where they shop they may tell you some secret thrift store with really cool clothes which can uplift your style.. anything which can help you get this « secret knowledge » which appeared in the cards. Another thing I can say for this pile is: focus on manifestation, envision the changes in your looks or life as a whole you would like to have and act accordingly in your 3D universe in order to get to where you want to be. Positive affirmations and subliminals (as in subliminals I mean not the crazy unrealistic ones, but those about self concept, confidence and beauty in general) may also be helpful in your case.

Moodboard/Vibes for pile 2:

The vibes I get here are Fran from “The Nanny” and Maddy from “Euphoria”. Fashionable, bold, colourful. Radiating confidence. Crystals, glitter, sparkle, feathers, bold and colourful makeup, everything of that sort. Do not dim your own light to make someone else feel better about themselves if they are insecure.

Songs which remind me of this pile’s vibe:

—>Pile 3

Pile 3: I think you would definitely be bettering your financial situation sooner than you may have even expected, this may help you get a glow up. You would be able to afford nicer things, skincare, clothes, procedures etc.. If you’re not already on a path to improve your finances, then you would definitely be motivated to start working on this problem soon and be very committed on your mission of « glowing up » in every way possible. Physically, mentally, spiritually even. You will be finding yourself after a long period of feeling lost and unlike your true self.

You would become much more intuitive, confident and cut throat even, you won’t let energy vampires use you as they may have done in the past and this would lead to a more beautiful and healthy version of you, because you would not have to deal with others’ negativity anymore. When it comes to relationships you would not be satisfied with with mediocrity, you will be finally standing your ground and being true to your standards and what you deserve. You will be getting your justice if you’ve been mistreated in the past.

This pile has huuuge « femme fatale » « dark feminine » vibe. This may be the energy you will be channeling after you have your glow up. Doing classic makeup like red lipstick+ black eyeliner, black smokey eyes and nude lips combo might help you channel this energy that i am seeing here better. Wearing colours like: red, black, gold and nude might help you elevate your look. Also wearing jewelry, lace and high heels. Don’t be scared to embrace your « dark side » which you may have ignored in the past in order to fit in with the crowd.

May sound trivial, but follow your intuition and do what makes you happy, it will make you glow in ways which you have not expected..

Moodboard/Vibes for pile 3:

The vibes I’m getting here are as I said in previous paragraphes: femme fatale, dark feminine energy,monica bellucci core type of look/aesthetics..

Songs which remind me of this pile’s vibe:

That was all from today’s PAC. It was a bit different from previous ones and I myself did not expect it to turn out the way it did, but sometimes completely different information pops up in readings because someone needs to hear a certain thing.. Hope you enjoyed it!!

Leave a comment/feedback if it resonated, share and follow for more.

Thank you for reading!

- La Sirena💋

Decks used: ‘$£xual magic’ oracle deck by Lo Scarabeo; ‘Manara’ €rotic tarot deck by Milo Manara/ Lo Scarabeo;

Photos are from pinterest; all credits to their respective owners.

[perfectlyoongi]

FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE

ㅤ↬┊synopsis ... you had to write a poem for a class and, when your creativity betrayed you, you decided to ask your boyfriend for help.

ㅤ⚘.fandom ... bts. ㅤㅤಇ.ft. ... yoongi x afab!reader. ㅤ⚘.genre ... one-shot. ㅤㅤಇ.content ... childhood friends & lovers (established relationship), fluff, just the complicity between u and yoongi. ㅤㅤಇ.word count ... 2k. ㅤ⚘.fandom ... ik as much abt writing poetry as ik abt quantum physics so u get no poem shoo shoo !! ps. dont mind the cringe :3 hope u enjoy ♡

“Come on, Yoonie!” you let out a small laugh when Yoongi grimaced as he shook his arm out of your hands. “Help me.”

“So annoying,” Yoongi prolonged the last word in a dramatic cry that made you laugh one last time. “Okay, I’ll help you.”

You quickly sat down on the black sofa in Yoongi's studio, on your lap a small notebook eager to be filled, in your hand a pencil half corroded by your thoughts. Yoongi sat next to you, in his hand a bottle of partially drunk water, in his eyes a sparkle that only appeared when he was with you.

“What do you need to do?”

“The professor asked for a poem and we had to draw the theme out of a hat.”

“And you got…”

“Love.”

Your response was accompanied by a frown on your part.

Since you remembered that you were submerged in a vast ocean of verses and stanzas, all the themes that could exist building little huts in your heart, creating fragments in your soul that would be forever united by your love for writing. And you wanted to know more about this art. You wanted to be able to create like so many others before you. You wanted to give your creativity a purpose and, with Yoongi's encouragement, you joined creative writing classes at your university.

But, as with everything, the dream became more fantastic than reality.

It was part of the challenge and it made you excited, more eager to create. But it was also tiring, spending days and nights pondering words and themes that could very well carry with them empty meanings and silent beauties. You wrote in constant fear of not being interpreted, of not being worthy of interpretation, of creating something too vague to have any value.

Everything was challenging for you, all the poems you had written to date being the result of too many thoughts and too little passion. So, when you got a theme as common and used as love, you only saw a solution to truly create a piece of art – after all, love only existed for you with Yoongi by your side.

“I kinda feel offended by your reaction,” Yoongi forced a frown and you smiled.

“Don’t start, please,” you opened the notebook and took a deep breath. “How am I supposed to start?”

“You can start by…” Yoongi was thoughtful for a moment, involuntarily playing with the bottle in his hands. “Trying to describe what love is to you?”

Your silence was capable of speaking louder than any words you could have said – and that only made Yoongi let out a small laugh.

Adjusting himself on the couch to get closer to you, Yoongi looked at you curiously. You had a serene expression, but your eyes showed that all the threads inside you were trying to interconnect to form a simple description. Leaning his arm against the back of the sofa and holding his head, Yoongi looked at you amused.

“Do you need help?” Yoongi asked cordially, a smile lacing his words, his voice gently echoing through the studio.

“You know I’m terrible with feelings.”

“I’m no better.”

“But you write songs.”

“Because you inspire me!”

You already knew that. Yoongi had already told you countless times that great inspiration for his songs came from you, from the feeling he had for you; but that didn't stop you from reacting, completely embarrassed by your boyfriend's confession.

“Then give me tips!”

“I don't know!” Yoongi opened his arms in a dramatic way, fanning them to emphasize his speech. “I just feel it and the words come and the song gets written.”

You snorted to hide a smile and calmed down again, your back leaning against the sofa, your eyes jumping from the pencil to the blank page.

“And what do you feel?”

Your question hung in the air for a brief moment as Yoongi contemplated your words.

In Yoongi's mind, dozens of words began to appear quickly, constantly running over each other, wanting to be the first to be pronounced. In Yoongi's heart, dozens of emotions began to gently blossom, taking root in Yoongi, assuring his feelings for you.

The pause wasn't long, but for you it was an eternity.

The eagerness for an answer made your heart race. You were looking forward to Yoongi's words, not only to inspire you for your poem, but also to hear once again what you meant to him – it was always good to be reassured.

“At this moment…”

Yoongi's voice was hoarse, deep, gently sung by his delicate lips. The words were steeped in care and serenity. You could feel Yoongi's thoughts in his pronunciation, the way he was precisely selecting each word he spoke bringing a smile to your face.

“At this moment, I feel like a kid again.”

“A kid?” you gently tilted your head – of all the strings of words Yoongi could have said, that wasn't one that had crossed your mind.

“Yes,” Yoongi let out a laugh, nostalgia clinging to every syllable, memories of easier times clouding his studio. “Doesn’t this situation remind you of anything?”

Yoongi continued to look at you in love – there was no other word to describe it. The sparkle in Yoongi's eyes was completed by the genuine smile that slightly curved his sweet lips. Yoongi's words were filled with a gentleness that only existed when he spoke to you, about you.

You pondered Yoongi's words. Your boyfriend's voice echoed in your mind with some care, stretching out the syllables, trying to search your memories for the words you should say. And then you remembered.

“The first grade!”

You spoke happily, memories of your childhood painting nostalgic pictures in your head, vibrant colors of happy moments radiating warmth to your heart.

“The first grade,” Yoongi repeated between small laughs as he adjusted himself on the couch. “We spent our afternoons trying to learn math together.”

“And we were never successful.”

Your laughter settled into two broad, longing, passionate smiles.

“I never told you this…” Yoongi was the first to break the silence that rested in the studio, going back to shuffle on the sofa, playing with the bottle a little more. “But, I think I started to like you at that time.”

Your eyes opened in awe, your boyfriend's confession bringing a little warmth to your heart.

“Come on, Yoonie. We were kids. It’s impossible to like someone that way.”

Accompanied by laughter, your words shaped the atmosphere of the studio into a place of comfort, of safety, of confession.

“I’m serious,” Yoongi placed one of his hands on your leg, stroking it gently. “Already at that age I knew that I wanted to stay with you for the rest of my life.”

Like a dove's feather hovering gently on a hot summer day, Yoongi's confession remained in his study as it got to know every nook and cranny, spreading its warmth across the room and nuzzling your heart.

Stay with you for the rest of his life.

In a way, those words danced in your mind, a complex waltz of possible futures moving through the halls of memories. In a way, those words gave you a shy smile, a gentle curve of embarrassment beautifying your face. In a way, those words settled in your heart, a homely comfort soothing your soul.

For the rest of his life.

“And how did you know?”

Your tone of voice was provocative, causing Yoongi to smile smugly.

“Because it was when I was with you that I could see the world in colors.” Yoongi let the bottle fall into his lap, one of his hands shyly searching for yours. “I believe that my life only began the day I met you. I woke up every day looking forward to go to school just to see you. And it was when we started dating that I started thinking about a future for me, for us.”

There was a passionate smile on your lips, a shiny curve that infected Yoongi and encouraged him to gently caress the soft skin of your hand.

“What was love like as a kid?”

“Weird,” a wistful laugh left Yoongi’s lips, his eyes locked on a long-lived past. “I just thought about annoying you just to have an excuse to talk to you.”

“Is that why you always stole my pencils?”

Yoongi shrugged his shoulders with a false air of innocence and you laughed. “But when our friendship started to become more natural, I only thought about you. How it was only with you that I could be myself. How it was only with you that I could really have fun. How you were the only one who gave me a purpose to wake up every day.”

“Do you have any songs about me that you haven’t shown me yet?”

Yoongi laughed, a strong, pink tone taking over his cheeks as he let go of your hand and returned to holding the bottle.

“Let's take it easy. We were talking about your poem.”

“Come on, Yoongi,” you smiled and gently pinched his stomach. “Tell me your secrets!”

Your boyfriend sighed as he let a smile be etched on his face. “I have two. One of them I wrote when I was at school.”

He got up carefully, walking to his desk and picking up a black notebook that was already quite corroded by time: the pages were damaged by humidity and water, the cover was a little torn and folded – that notebook seemed to have been loved.

“I carry this notebook everywhere,” Yoongi sat down next to you again and placed the notebook on his lap, encouraging you to come closer to him. “It’s where I have my first thoughts and songs as a dreamer. Among them the first song I wrote.”

“Rest of my life”, you read Yoongi’s handwriting like an incantation, your lips pronouncing each syllable with the flavor of importance and passion seasoning the title of that song. “Why didn’t you ever show me?”

“I was ashamed. It’s not my best work, y’know?”

“But you still keep it.”

“Because it is my most genuine and heartfelt song.”

Yoongi looked at you and you returned the look. In the shine of your boyfriend's eyes you saw your future together, a home and a family, an eternity of passion and complicity; in the curve of your boyfriend's lips you saw your shared past, infinite stories and memories, an extensive melancholy of a passionate history.

Before you kissed Yoongi, you smiled.

Your lips touched lightly for just a moment but it was enough to send warm waves through your body. It was incredible that after so many years of friendship and dating, Yoongi still had that pleasurable effect on you.

“Can I read it?”

“No,” Yoongi laughed again and closed the notebook.

“Come on! Please, Yoonie.”

Yoongi looked at you thoughtfully, seeing in your pleading eyes and your innocent smile the whole reason for that song. “It was because of you that I started dreaming of a future.”

Somehow, you noticed in Yoongi's shy and reserved tone that those words weren't random, that behind each letter and timbre there was a memory dear to him, a memory of something that was reserved forever in his heart.

“The seeds you planted bloom in my heart. Gardens of tulip petals adorn my desire for a future. I always daydream immersed in swan lakes about a tomorrow with you. I only ask that you stay with me for the rest of my life.”

Even before Yoongi finished his quote, you kissed him again, passion and magic joining your lips in a new promise of love.

“You’re right,” you placed your forehead against Yoongi’s and let out a small laugh. “It’s not your best work.”

“I’m gonna hit you.”

Between laughs, Yoongi kissed you again, pulling away quickly when the memory of the reason for your visit appeared in his mind.

“We’ve already talked about me, let’s go back to the poem.”

“I think I understand what I have to do,” your pencil twirled in your hand as words began to unite a web of thoughts inside your heart. “I just have to remember all the ways you love me and make me feel loved.”

Yoongi kissed your forehead before leaving you immersed in feelings and phrases, a little encouragement from Yoongi before he returned to his work.

ㅤㅤ♡ feedback is appreciated ♡