#yes part of it is on me to produce the content i like or want to see but

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING OVERWHELMING !!! MAX V. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: max wanted her to do a lot of things and he enacted on his goal by overwhelming her.

💌 re:moony's planner request: "overstimulation with max please, like dom!max but body worship ✨."

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), use of explicit language, pwp, overstimulation, squirting, praise kink, dom-ish!max, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wear a glove before making love), i have written ✨fuckall✨

note: mmmm yes my biggest enemy rn— i did not do the body worship part (i made it praise instead 🫶). live laugh love him tho. enjoy xx (also! please don't hesitate to give me your opinion or talk to me!!!)

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

his ego was at an all time high. 

but so was her mind. she could’ve sworn that the throbbing she could hear wasn’t adrenaline pumping through her heart but rather her cunt that had been overstimulated by max. 

her tear-stained cheeks were red, her hickey littered neck and collarbones were turning purple from the addictive touch of max’s lips as she squirmed under him. 

he was smiling like a maniac, his fingers curling up against her spongy walls as the speed of his thrusting increased. 

she supposed that being a three-time world champion would do this to a man. not only would his head grow big as he celebrated his victory— his body would also be on fire as he fucked her relentlessly. 

“m- max,” she cried out, her hand trying to push his wrist away as he smacked her insistent fingers slightly. she babbled at the overwhelming feeling that rose in her stomach, “it’s too much!” 

“c’mon, baby,” he murmured, pressing a sweet kiss on her lips as he goaded her into another orgasm, “you’ve got more.”

“n- no! no more,” she replied with a high pitched squeal as her hips rutted against his fingers. “‘s too much! i- hah~ fuck!” 

he chuckled darkly, watching her cunt produce liquid as it trickled out of her. she squirted and whined loudly as the red bull driver smirked.

max tutted, ���see? you’re such a good girl. look at this pretty cunt of yours.” he leaned over and traced over her glistening folds with his tongue, humming at the taste of her. “such a sweet taste, baby. fuck. i could fucking eat you all day.”

“mmm,” she murmured, her hips twitching as max continued to devour her cunt like it’s his last meal. feeling her clit being stimulated once more, she let out a soft whine as she told him incoherently, “m- maxie, ‘m cummin’ again. fuck.” 

it was as if max couldn’t even hear her, getting lost in a trance as he inserted three fingers inside her and fucked her once more. 

he almost moaned at the feeling of her cunt tightening around his thrusting fingers, vibrations sending her to a haywire as she mumbled, “oh- oh!” her mumbling turned into screaming, clutching the sheets under her as pressure built up in her stomach. 

she wasn’t even certain how she got into this predicament. all she knew was that, midway through the season, she promised to be at his mercy when he received his trophy by the end. 

she didn’t think that he would go this route: his hips rutting down the mattress as he sought for friction, his mouth and chin glistening as she came all over his face again and again. 

she was expecting him to deny her of everything— like a king of the world— yet here he was on his stomach like a man starving for pussy.

he growled almost immediately when she tried to push his hand away again, his thrusts were getting faster and deeper as squelching noises filled the room. 

her mewls and the filthy sounds of her cunt and his fingers were the only thing that they both could hear— she almost wanted to die of embarrassment and humiliation.

while he… he fucking loved it. 

he wanted her to cum all over him. he wanted her to scream, to whine and to have her eyes rolling back until she saw nothing but white. he wanted her to cry because she was overstimulated. 

he maneuvered her around until she had her back arched and ass up, easily sliding his cock inside her as she sobbed. his hips snapped against hers while his cock drilled inside her cunt easily, filling her to the brim with his girth and length as she let out a cry of pleasure. 

“fuck, schat,” max groaned from behind her, his eyes peering down to watch his cock slide in and out of her hole. “you are such a good fucking girl to me.” 

she only let out a whimper, her walls clenching around his cock as he continued to praise her, “taking me so well with this pussy of yours. takin’ everything you’re given without complaining— you are such an angel.” 

“mmm…max, ‘m gonna cum again,” she dragged out her last word, her tears staining the sheets as much as her cum did. she mewled, “fuck, maxie! ‘s too much!” 

“keep cumming for me, liefje,” max demanded, the tight grip that his hands had on her hips while he fucked her contrasted with his use of term of endearment, “cum all over my cock.”

he could see his cock with ring her cum all around it as he continued thrusting, giving himself a smile of excitement as she came all over his cock as he demanded. 

“see? you listen then,” max crooned, pulling her up against his chest as he bottomed out inside of her once more. 

she reached her high for the eighth time, her walls stilling around his girth. max tilted her head, kissing her as she moaned softly at the feeling of cumming while his cock remained inside of her. 

“let’s see if we can give you more before i fill this pussy of yours with my cum,” max chuckled, making her squirm and mewl. “can’t wait to see my masterpiece, schatje.” 

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015

♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129

[saerotonins]

actor!kento headcanons

ft. nanami kento x reader

content warnings: fluff, general actor headcanons, implied nanami x reader

wc: 749

note: i really have fun doing this, let me know if you guys want more for other characters! 🫶🏻

jjk actor au masterlist

 as an actor:

i feel like he would be more humorous and laid back than his character

usually the one who starts teasing his closest castmates (probably haibara and gojo)

treats the 1st and 2nd year casts as his kids

especially the twins, yuuji and sukuna

acts like a father figure to them on set and takes care of them whenever they had a very exhausting scene to film (like fight scenes and such)

he's also the one who breaks the twins up whenever they have playful banter with each other

puts up with gojo more outside their characters and is actually tolerating his antics on set 

will sometimes have a giggle fit whenever someone makes a light mistake during filming like voice cracks and stumbling during fight scenes

believe it or not, he's really the type to join gojo and geto in creating light pranks to the other casts

when a scene needs to be filmed before the sun even goes up, he pulls up to the shoot with coffee and the casts' (even the crew!) favorite drinks

knows their coffee and drink orders BY HEART

the producers love him because he's such a sweetheart

whenever he smiles (an example is during that mahito scene where he was trapped in his domain expansion and in the restaurant with ino), the crew is literally the definition of "got me kicking my feet, giggling, and twirling my hair" LOL literally big fans of him

speaking of mahito, people are surprised to know that they're very good friends and actually went to the same middle school

he is usually the one that he practices his lines with aside from his spouse

he CANNOT for the life of him practice his lines with gojo and geto alone because they will have a giggle fit every time 😭 they can't take it seriously pls

also shares his bentos made by you to his co-stars which they really REALLY love

he also takes his physic very very seriously and works out on a daily basis but it doesn't mean he won't enjoy a good cheat meal (which is also very often because whenever filming gets busy, they resort to take outs) hence he compensates by working out more

gojo really likes to touch and squish his biceps from time to time istg this man

believe it or not, he has an instagram, but his face is barely posted unless it's a promotion or magazine shoot

most of his posts includes foods, behind the scenes of some shoots, and his spouse, you

fans are raving and gushing about it

he also has highlights that are just food, travels, behind the scenes on the shows he is in

as a husband: 

unlike his character, he stays to work overtime most of the time (not that he wants to, it's just he NEEDS to) which you understood head on before you married him and before his stardom 

you usually prepare his bentos before he goes to work 

which is most the time also appreciated by his workmates so you make more portions to satisfy their stomachs as well

but whenever his hectic schedule and yours clash that you don't have the time to prepare him one, he settles with takeouts and convenient store foods which is enough to fill him up but it just does not hit the same :((

he practices his lines with you as a form pf quality time, his schedule is so packed that he takes every single free moment with you as a bonding experience

but sometimes he doesn't because he hates giving you spoilers and wants his scenes to be a surprise for you (*wink wink* hair grab scene *wink wink*)

the kids, the 1st and 2nd year casts (and maybe even gojo), goes to your shared home to crash if they're too tired to go home from the shooting site if your house is the closest

the 1st year trio, especially yuuji, goes by your home often whenever he gets easily bored 

even though you're not the part of the crew, for how often they go to your home, you also treat them as your kids (yes, including gojo)

whenever they're around, it's always so loud and lively but both you and nanami are not complaining 

[the-modern-typewriter]

Your work inspires me so much! Could I request a villain x hero where they’re both mutually in love but the villain, is very much a villain and murders people and the hero feels betrayed, and hates the fact they still love the villain (bonus for the villain doing it out of jealousy 🥺💕) don’t feel pressured to write this ofc! Thank you for taking the time to read and have a good day / evening and thank you for the content you produce ❤️

The hero scrubbed harder at their hands when they heard the bathroom door open behind them. Their shoulders tensed. Their jaw locked.

They didn't look up at the mirror.

"You're upset," the villain said, finally.

The hero snarled, wordlessly. Their skin was beginning to look flayed. Red from the hot water. Clean. Not clean enough.

"You know who I am," the villain pressed. "You know what I'm capable of. I've never hid it, never pretended to be something other than what I am."

"You killed them."

"I've killed before."

"Oh, well. That makes it all so much better then, doesn't it?"

The villain stepped closer. They gently took hold of the hero's wrist with one hand and firmly closed the tap with the other.

The hero whirled, wrenching back and shoving.

Part of them expected the villain to instantly lunge; slam them right back against a wall, leaving the two of them struggling. It was worse that the villain immediately put their hands up in placating, 'okay, I won't touch you', surrender.

It was too damn reasonable.

The villain's expression, through the blurry fury of the hero's tears, was too damn concerned.

The hero swiped at their cheeks, teeth practically bared. "Fuck you."

"Oh, I wish that was the mood, right now."

"You killed them because you were jealous."

The villain's head tilted.

"Don't deny it," the hero snapped.

"I wasn't denying thing. Outside of a court of law, I rarely do."

"This isn't a joke!"

"I wasn't joking, love."

"Don't call me that!"

The villain folded their arms across the chest, and for a moment the hero thought they might walk out and come back later 'after the hero had calmed down'. They leaned back against the bathroom door instead, shutting it.

The hero gulped. They took a step closer, fists raised - wanting to - needing to - they ended up hurling their shaking hands back to their sides.

"You know," their voice cracked. "I defend you to people. Did you know that? I tell them that you're not so bad. Ruthless, yeah, but you're not a monster. You have a code. You love me."

"I do love you, which is why I would never ask you to defend me."

"Like that's the point here!"

"Then what is the point?" the villain asked. Calm. Implacable.

"You're better than this. You're supposed to be better. You don't just - just kill people. Not because of me."

"Ah." The villain's gaze flicked down the hero's arms. "You feel you have blood on your hands."

"No. That's not it."

"Isn't it?"

"It's about you being morally reprehensible."

"Yeah, but we knew I was morally reprehensible, didn't we? Just as we both know I pretend otherwise sometimes when I can make it easy for you."

The hero made a strangled sound. Even if they did know that. Especially because they knew that.

The villain shrugged. "If it makes you feel better, it's not your fault. Yes, I was jealous that you were spending a lot of time fighting them. But on the other hand, they were also a morally reprehensible person, so really if I'm going to kill anyone it should be the people like me. I thought you'd be pleased."

"Pleased?!"

"Well, that I'm channelling my violent tendencies in a societally friendly way. You wanted to stop them too. Does the end not justify the means?"

The hero stared at them, aghast. They genuinely weren't sure if the villain was joking or not. They did not look like they were joking.

"I hate you," the hero said. "So much."

"Yes."

"That's all you have to say? Yes?"

"I'm not an easy creature to love," the villain said, softly. "Of course you hate me sometimes. Otherwise loving me would be unbearable."

"It is unbearable."

Some of the calm slipped from the villain's face; a flinch of pain.

it didn't make the hero feel better. It just made their hands feel more bloodied, more like the villain's hands. Hurting things.

"You know," the villain said. "You're not easy either. I limit my nature a lot for you. I compromise for you all the time."

"It's not a compromise when my demand is asking you not to kill people!"

"I've never asked you to stop risking your life to save people."

"That's not the same thing!"

"Hurts the same amount.," the villain said quietly.

The hero didn't know what to say to that. The two of them stared at each other from across the bathroom, the hero still shaking violently. "I don't want to do this right now," they managed to say, and it was only a little wobbly. "I can't deal with you right now."

"I wanted to check you're alright."

"Yeah? I'm not."

The villain bit their lip. "I really didn't think you'd react this badly. I wouldn't have done it if I thought it would upset you this much."

The hero closed their eyes, because it was true and it was terrible. Another treacherous tear spilled over their cheek. They dashed it away.

"What do you need?" the villain asked. "You should have water or you'll get a headache."

"I want you to leave."

"Are you going to put your hands under the tap again if I leave?"

The hero glared at them.

The villain's defences were back up again, so they merely raised an eyebrow. "I'll be outside, then."

"I thought you were better," the hero said. "You were supposed to be better."

The villain paused, one hand on the door, considering that perhaps.

"No," they said, after a moment, like the hero was the one who had committed some great and grave betrayal. "You just started pretending."

They shut the door behind them.

[rockwgooglyeyes]

Really, what CURE highlights is Ivan's sense of self- or lack thereof.

"you can break me apart"

"to quiet my fears, I'll drown in you"

"consume me, yes, me"

Maybe this is why, overall, I think Ivan wrote the lyrics more than I believe Till did. While we know Till to be a producer and lyricist, the content of the lyrics themselves are really what put that final nail in the coffin for me. I don't really believe that Till would have a desire for Mizi to hurt him, even in a romantic way. His affection for her seems far more pure than that, something where violence and injury are absent, something happy and bright where there are no worries. Mizi might be Till's reason to believe in the world and the future, as she shows him a possibility of goodness and happiness, but she doesn't seem to distract him from his own fears. In fact, his admiration of her from afar is a behavior that's an extension of his fears and insecurities, stemming from his superiority complex where people don't like him, it's because he's better than them and they know it. But not only that, adding onto that superiority complex, Till has a fear of vulnerability (or he just doesn't want to be perceived as weak) due to his traumas and I don't think that he would want Mizi to "break him apart." Then again I might be splitting hairs and I might be wrong. These are just my thoughts at the moment

Back to Ivan, though. He's . . . *sighs* his sense of self worth is pretty much nonexistent. He thinks very poorly of himself, he's part of the crowd who call him a freak and a pervert and a monster. He believes himself to be something wretched and broken, in need of fixing and yet, unfixable. He's just as afraid of vulnerability as Till is, ironically, but it's for a different reason- Ivan is afraid of laying it all bare and having someone confirm his suspicions that there's something irrevocably wrong with him. He's not insecure in the same way Till is, because he believes wholeheartedly that he's fucked up and that he's unlovable and that's how he got here. It's not Till who *needs* to love him back, or anything like that, it's Ivan that's the problem.

That's why "consume me" and "you can break me apart" and "to quiet my fears, I'll drown in you" are so utterly Ivan. Ivan would be happy to be consumed by someone he loved because that way, he's useful. He's sustaining them. He would be happy to be broken apart by someone he loves because that way, they can get their anger out on someone without any consequences, because he doesn't mind, he's happy to be the meat on their chopping block. He will use a person he loves as a distraction from his own doubts and fears because, hey, he already knows what's wrong with him but there are so many wonderful people around him, who he can help support. His problems aren't what's important because he doesn't have problems, not real ones, anyways. He can't compare to any of his friends, he has a guardian who doesn't actively physically abuse him, and he's famous. What more could he ask for?

Also I think the "sick of these nights to come" is in reference to the possibility of Ivan winning and being forced to live in a world without Till, a comparatively quiet universe. Anyayws. starred crossed doomed yaoi my belvoed. if anyone calls them toxic i will have questions because i want to know your reasoning and if i can dispute it because maybe im wrong!

[andy-wm]

AYS Behind the scenes: behind the paywall

Now that the Disney+ episodes are complete (sob), my attention is firmly fixed on my mailbox as I wait impatiently for the AYS photobook and QR code.

I was always going to buy the Jikook photobook, even though I doubt there will be much we haven't already seen in the episodes. But the inclusion of the QR code was the clincher.

I must admit, Hybe locking up the behind the scenes for AYS was not on my bingo sheet.

Making behind/additional clips available on Bangtan TV would have been more in line with their regular MO. We don't generally have to pay for what really amounts to outtakes.

Okay, yes, we have to pay for behind cuts of Run BTS, but the actual episodes are free. With everything else the behind clips are included when you buy the series (I'm thinking of BV, ITS, and concert boxed sets).

In fact I can't think of any other time a behind/ bonus clip hasn't been available to fans who pay for the main content.

Maybe it is because Hybe was only contracted to deliver 8 episodes to Disney+ and the price was fixed. Maybe they saw an easy way to make the series more profitable.

We know they will take any opportunity to lighten our wallets.

But I think there's more to it

Let's talk business:

If Hybe wanted to make money from this, having the sale point directly on Weverse would make more sense. That way anyone could buy it any time without having to buy the photobook as well. Even if they charged just a few $$ for these extra clips, the return could be substantial over time. Long tail products can be very lucrative and Hybe clearly knows this - they have heaps of old footage for sale on Weverse. Since they're hosting the content already, it makes sense to keep that 'buy now' button active and let the dollars trickle in.

So why reduce the potential pool of buyers? Why limit this to those who buy the photobook??

Well, let's consider who is going to buy the photobook?

Who is going to fork out US$28 plus postage for a keepsake of these two on their third honeymoon?

I doubt OT7 ARMYs would buy it. Even ARMYs who bias JM or JK - if they aren't part of the SGMB they probably don't want it either.

Solos sure as hell don't want it - they are probably wishing the whole thing never happened... sucks to be them haha

Who really wants to see these two living their best lives together?

We do!

And by we, I mean Jikook supporters.

People who want to see more of this:

and this

And this

We are the people who will buy this photobook (and probably never look at it more than once, let's be honest)

But let's get back to the topic at hand....

The photobook/behind combo seems like a chicken/egg situation to me.

Which came first - as a concept - the photobook or the behind clips?

Did they decide to offer a photobook, and then think of adding the extra footage to make it more appealing?

Or vice versa?

Did they decide to make the behind clips, and think of the photobook afterwards?

Hard to say, since behind clips have always been a thing and recently Hybe is putting out photobooks for everything.

But I think I have a fair idea

Consider the price point for this photobook - it's the same price as most of the others produced recently: +-US$28.

AYS photobook & behind is the same price as the Photo-Folios, Tae's Type 1 (magazine version) photobook, and the Beyond The Stage photobook

🗣 So they aren't charging any extra for the behind footage?

No, they aren't. They're basically giving it to the buyers of the photobook as a gift.

🗣 Could they be making money off it?

Yes, the could.

Long tail, remember?

Looking at the profit-making potential, it makes WAY more sense for Hybe to offer the behind footage on Weverse for a few meagre dollars and... wait for their ship to come in...

See what I did there? hahahhaha (laughing by myself)

They really aren't making any money off this!

how unlike Hybe...

So why go to the effort of setting up QR codes and putting it behind a paywall? It costs money to host content this way. They are in fact SPENDING money to bring us this footage.

Not only through the hosting costs there are also production costs to consider.

Wouldn't it make more sense to just freely share it with ARMY via Bangtan TV? Or not release it at all?

Yes, it would...

So there's only one logical answer...

Hybe has chosen to make the content available - but also make it just that little bit more difficult to access.

This whole exercise seems to be about releasing additional footage without releasing it to the general public. It's being shared specifically with those of us who support them.

Does that mean we'll see slightly more personal content?

Maybe it's a little more revealing of their undeniable bond and their hot chemistry...?

Whatever they contain, these behind clips are definitely for a limited audience - and purposefully so.

The only reason for it, that I can think of, is to safeguard Jimin and Jungkook from too much scrutiny and criticism - from within the fandom (unfortunately) and outside of it.

We will find out in a few days I guess.

In the meantime, I'm camped out by my mailbox

[show-your-fangs]

I could request the double life of the reader, one as an agent and the other as a camgirl. Hotchner is a follower but they won't realize it until they travel on a case to an area where it's hot and they see a familiar brand.

By the way, I love your writing. 💖😊

anon i love you. take my hand in marriage RIGHT NOW.

It's You | Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner

introducing--

The Secrets We Keep (a Bunny and Clyde story) - Part One

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner x BAU/cam girl f!Reader

Words: 3k

CW: mutual masturbation, sex work (is real work), power imbalance/play.

Tags/warnings: master!hotch, reader works at the bau and is a secret cam girl, hotch is a customer, pet names (bunny, sweet girl), perv!hotch, mutual masturbation, hotch being a little mean.

a/n: yes, oh god yes will this become something I can already taste it. catch me writing another insanely long D/s series about these two because I AM IN LOVE.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

The first time that he noticed a similarity he thought he’d officially lost his mind. 

Maybe the sleep deprivation, insurmountable amounts of stress he was under, and the fact that he had yet to have his morning coffee were all working in tandem against him. 

It had been a complete accident. You’d been walking towards your desk in the morning, in a foul mood and you didn’t care who saw it. You’d set your bag down on the wooden counter but accidentally miscalculated how close you were to it and slammed your foot into the metal leg that separated them.

A yelp escaped your lips, high pitched, painful, sexual. His ears had perked up immediately, his brows scrunching together as he tried to remember where he’d heard that sound before. Realization struck him like a truck running him against a brick wall. 

No, there was no way, his brain was being absurd, he was being absurd.   

The day wrapped him up in a tornado of meetings and he’d almost forgotten about the incident earlier in the day, but then he received a notification late at night, after he’d returned home from a long day at the office. She was online, his favorite, perfect girl. 

Aaron had never been one for porn, never really saw the appeal of overly produced, almost veering on fake sexual content. He’d met his wife in high school, he was never in need of searching for something that he already had. 

But after Haley passed away and he became increasingly frustrated with the idea of having to put himself out there and date someone else to get the intimacy that he desired, he’d bitten the bullet and signed up for one of the many sites that Morgan had not so subtly been recommending for the past few months. 

To think that his colleague could tell he was so sexually frustrated to the point that he’d began dropping hints about it had made him more embarrassed than signing up for the site. 

The first few times that he used the site were…interesting. Getting past that wall of righteousness he’d put up around himself was difficult. He wanted, no, needed release, craved it in a way he’d never felt before. 

He’d go from stream to stream, curious, trying to keep an open mind. But nothing really spoke to him, nothing really made him excited to engage, to stay longer than a few minutes, to touch himself. 

And then he’d found her, bouncingbunny1, or Bunny as she went by for the customers that paid enough to be in her inner circle. 

She was beautiful in that girl next door who was secretly naughty way that he hadn’t realized he was so attracted to. Always clad in delicate pink lingerie, never showing her face, even when he’d finally gotten over his fear and paid for a private session.

It was easy to fantasize, easy to let himself go and allow the soft cadence of her voice, the filthy sounds of her moans as she touched herself for his pleasure and his pleasure only, making him come undone in minutes. 

He’d learned something dangerous about himself then, a desperate need to dominate, to control, to have power over someone in such an intimate way. Watching this delicate woman come undone by his orders, his commands, his instructions on how he wanted her to pleasure herself was more satisfying than anything he’d experienced before.

Now, months later, he could confidently accept that this had been one of the best decisions he’d ever made. Sure, he spent as much money on her as he did on rent every month, but it was honestly worth it. He had an insurmountable amount of access, she’d told him as much on their nightly conversations. 

It wasn’t just about release anymore. He found himself talking to her, texting and calling, whenever she was online and he needed her. There had been a few instances where they’d closed a particularly tough case and all he needed was to hear her voice, but she was unavailable. 

But she made up for it with messages filled with those silly kissing face emojis, telling him that she’d make it up to him later that night. And he never questioned it, never even found it odd that sometimes those moments happened to coincide with them being stuck on the jet or pulling a late night of paperwork at the office. 

He had no reason to think anything of it, no reason to ever even begin to think of the possibility that it was you…that it could ever be you on the other side of his screen. You, his subordinate, his teammate, his friend who he adored and cherished and thanked the universe every day for your patience, kindness, love.

Even with the slightest possibility, the smallest sliver that it could be you—

user1102: Bunny.

bouncingbunny1: hiiiiii Master 🤭🥰🩷💖😚

user1102: Can we play?

Bouncingbunny1: yes sir

He smirked to himself, immediately calling. He never showed his face or his body. The only indication that he was real was through what he allowed you to hear. That was another thing that he’d noticed about himself, how deep and sharp his voice could get when he allowed himself to be free. 

You answered the call immediately. You knew he didn’t like to be kept waiting and you couldn’t contain your excitement every time he called you. He was the only reason you were still doing this, even after finishing college (debt free), after getting through the academy and getting the job you’d been desperately working towards all your adult life – he had come in and kept you wrapped up in his orbit. 

You’d started working at the BAU almost a year ago. They were down an agent and you’d been brought in to train for the position. The transition had been stressful, something that you were accounting for but not to this degree. 

You had taken a break from camming in preparation for the adjustment period, taking your time to see if you would even want to return to it or if it was a closed chapter in your book. 

But you’d returned home one night after a particularly grueling case, with so much pent up energy, so much bratty energy that the only way that you knew how to get it out in a healthy way was to put on a show. 

You’d spent the next few hours with your bluetooth vibrator inside you, a pretty baby blue lingerie set over it, cumming over and over and over and over again as the people watching paid to make the device go faster and faster and faster.

That’s when you first met him, user1102. After the first hour was up and you were practically hanging on to your couch for dear life, he’d told you he’d pay five hundred dollars if you took a break, if you drank a full glass of water for him on camera to show him you were taking care of yourself. 

And so you did, everyone else in the chat respecting the decision, albeit annoying as it was, since they all understood that money spoke volumes and they were not in the market to try and outbid whoever he was.

You didn’t recognize him from your usual clients which meant that this was the first time he was seeing you, and what a night to start indeed. He kept coming back after that, every time that you were able to find the time or needed to find release, to clear your mind of the day’s events. 

He was always a big tipper, an even bigger flirt, always made sure to send public and private messages while you played live, always said hello and goodbye. 

You’d squealed loudly when he finally requested a private session and made sure you looked extra good for him. He was perfect, even if you had no idea what he looked like, and these sessions became more and more frequent to the point that you’d almost stopped performing for other people.  

You were sitting in front of your couch on the cold wood floor, a fluffy towel under you. He could see a few toys off camera and a large water bottle that he’d gotten you next to them, clearly just in frame for him.

“Hi bunny,” he groaned, his hand already wrapped around his cock. 

“Hi Master,” you whimpered, already feeling spacey and out of it. It was always like this with him, easy to slip, to submit, to simply allow your brain to think about following his instructions. 

“Someone’s eager,” he mocked and you immediately knew what he was talking about. It was crazy to think that you were so attuned to him, to where his mind was. It filled you with warmth every time that you could anticipate his thoughts, his needs, his desires. 

“Prepared,” you whined, offended. “I always make a mess when we play and I’m tired of having to mop my floor.”

He chuckled, hand tightening around himself. He never had to work to get hard when he spoke with you, the mere thought of getting to play, as you liked to call it, enough to get him going. 

That’s when he noticed it, a small band aid on the side of your foot. 

“What happened to your foot, sweet girl?” he asked, his heart beating uncomfortably fast, blood practically shooting up to his ears and his cock. 

“Oh…” you started, a little afraid that he’d punish you for not being careful. “I bumped it against a chair today.”

He came harder than he’d ever had that night just by the mere thought that you were the one letting out those addicting noises, that you were the one coming undone because of him, that you were the one writhing, shaking, panting, so completely at his mercy that you’d quite literally do anything for him. 

You were in god awful, swampy Florida. The summer sun was unforgiving, the cozy, long sleeve you had chosen for what you believed would be a long day at the office doing paperwork was definitely the worst clothing choice as the humidity practically clung to your body. 

You wanted to scream, wanted to punch something, wanted to take it off and not worry about flaunting your practically naked breasts to everyone around you. Anything to get rid of the burning heat that trapped your body. 

You were practically a walking puddle when you made it back to the station, practically bolting to the bathroom in a cloud of smoke. Morgan couldn’t help but chuckle, he’d been teasing you about it all afternoon, especially after he’d urged you to change and you had refused because you were sure you’d be staying inside with Reid in the comfort of the air conditioned building.

Aaron couldn’t help but notice your mood. You weren’t normally this grumpy. You were usually the one making sure he stopped frowning. He gave you a moment and then followed behind swiftly. 

You stepped into the women’s bathroom and immediately pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aggressively over the sink. You stood there, heaving, allowing the cold air to seep into your body, to have it calm you down, ground you. 

Aaron was about to knock when he saw the door slightly ajar and he immediately stilled, his eyes landing on your topless body. It was too similar, you were too similar, his brain now desperately trying to find similarities between you and her. 

You were wearing a cupless white lace bra, one that he could’ve sworn he’d bought you only a few days prior. You hadn’t worn it yet, at least not to his knowledge, which meant you must’ve just gotten it in the mail. 

It was overwhelming to say the least. He couldn’t continue going on like this. He needed to know. 

He pulled out his phone, discreetly lingering outside of the women’s bathroom, always glancing around to make sure no one could see him. 

user1102: Bunny, I need you.

The second his thumb pressed send his gaze shot up to you once more, waiting to see your reaction. As much as his Bunny would sometimes tell him that she couldn’t play right that second, she’d always, without fail, answer his messages within seconds. 

He could see your attention shift from the mirror in front of you to your phone for a second as you slid your new shirt over yourself. His gaze sharpened, his cock twitched in anticipation, his breathing hitched. 

But instead you pressed one key and brought the device up to your ear, your soft, steady voice muffled by the distance between you. He sighed deeply, in defeat as he looked back down at his phone, his message unanswered. 

“Are you okay?” he almost jerked back as he heard you address him, concern lacing your voice. You were right beside him then, those round, doe eyes of yours that he loved so much wide and worried. 

He could simply nod, enough to satisfy you and yet not give you even an ounce of understanding into what was really going on. 

You all made it to the hotel later that night. He had quickly checked you all in since you were all about to drop. It had been a very long day to say the least and all you really wanted was to take an ice cold shower and go to sleep. 

“Alright,” he addressed the group. “Rossi, room 702, Reid and Morgan, room 705, JJ, room 806, Emily and–” his eyes met yours and he immediately lost his train of thought for a second before he handed the key cards to the raven haired woman beside you. “Room 807.”

He stepped back. “I’ll be down in room 604 if anyone needs anything. Back at the lobby at seven.”

With that you all shuffled towards the elevators, like a horde of zombies. You had been true to your word, practically cold plunging yourself in the shower and proceeding to put on some shorts and a baggy t-shirt to sleep in. 

Emily took the shower after you were done, your plan being to throw yourself on the bed and pass out immediately. But as luck would have it, your stomach practically screamed at you to feed it. 

You sighed deeply, crossing the room to see if room service was still open at the late hour only to realize it had just closed. You groaned in annoyance, the brat peeking through, your body starting to crave a different type of relief. 

Luckily there was a vending machine down on the sixth floor, so that’s where you found yourself, irritatingly making the trek down. The elevator doors opened directly into the hall with the vending machine and you practically came face to face with an equally tired Aaron, clad in his own gray shirt and loose pajama pants. 

You bit down on your lip, approaching him slowly. He saw you the second the elevator doors opened and it made him angry that he just knew it was you. There was something so specific about the air whenever you were around, it always felt lighter, smelled sweeter. 

“Hungry?” he asked as you approached and you nodded. 

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you replied and he leaned down to pick up the prepackaged sandwich he’d just gotten for himself. 

Your hand wrapped itself around the almost phallic, plastic wrapped item, his gaze slowly falling down your body until it landed on your chest. To say he visibly tensed up was an understatement. 

You frowned immediately, stepping forward, into his personal space, your own eyes searching for his but they were glued to your shirt. You looked down at yourself, concerned that maybe there was something on it that had offended him. It was rowdy, but nothing to write home about which only confused you further. 

“My college friends used to be in a band,” you explained, trying to lighten the mood. “They made like three of these shirts,” you laughed, clearly remembering fond memories. “Anyway, it’s silly and stupid, I know, but I still have it.”

He knew, he knew all of that, because he’d once called her– you while you were still in your pajamas, wearing that very specific shirt. You’d told him that same story, with a few more details of course, but still.

There was no denying it now, no way to twist the truth, no way to unknow what he now knew for certain.

His own hand pulled on the sandwich and your frown only deepened, as if the gesture itself had cut you so deep, had broken your heart so painfully. 

“It’s…uh– option three, sorry, I have to…” he was down the hall in record time, his heart pounding, his cock practically rock hard against his abdomen. He needed to calm down, needed to take a minute to compose himself, needed to get back to grab his phone so that he could—

user1102: Come to my room. 

The message confused you even more than Aaron just had. You were in no mood to deal with anyone, even the man you had made you feel more alive than you had in years. That’s when you noticed you hadn’t replied to him earlier, but whatever guilt you were feeling quickly washed away as anger settled in.

Who the fuck did they both think they were?

bouncingbunny1: ???

user1102: 604

The color drained from your face in an instant. No, it couldn’t be. There was no way, your brain was being absurd, you were being absurd. 

user1102: Now, bunny.

You gulped loudly, shaky legs somehow managing to lift carry down the hall. The bright light of the hallways almost sobering you up. Were you seriously about to do this?

At worst you walked over to his door, knocked and he stared at you confused and you’d just have to live with the embarrassment of coming up with a lie. At best…at best he opened the door and dragged you into his room, pressed his lips to yours, and finally gave you the satisfaction of fucking ruining you like you’d wanted your boss and user1102 to do for so long. 

You didn’t even get to lift your hand to knock on the door before it swung open aggressively and he stepped into your personal space, his tall, broad frame towering over you. 

“Oh, bunny,” he hummed. “Didn’t anyone tell you not to go looking for the big bad wolf?”

“No, Master.”

this was TOO SATISFYING TO WRITE I LOVE IT SO MUCH. it was crazy to go from soft boy mr. hotchner to just...insanity and power and control and i love how this turned out.

y'all better fucking FLOOD my inbox with asks for them.

tags: @xladyxdreamer, @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh

[tomssexdoll]

I'll be your paparazzi

PAIRINGS: Tom 2009 x Female reader

CONTENT: SMUT

SYPNOSIS: When Y/N meets Tom at a meet and greet she slips him a piece of paper, when he opens it he finds her number with a red kiss stain. Later on when Y/N gets home she suddenly gets a call...

A/N: yes thats toms signature on her chest

WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader,

Tom was a famous rockstar, he was the guitarist in his band Tokio Hotel. I had been a fan for years, going to all their concerts and buying every single item they released, cds, merch, dvds, you name it, I had it.

The only thing I'd never done was meet them, they were holding a meet and greet at one of the venues nearby my house, as soon as I checked their website, since I did it 5 times a day, and saw those tickets being sold I was quick to buy one.

As I waited in line my heart raced each time I got closer to Tom, he was first, the other guys standing beside him, signing multiple different things at once. When it finally came to my turn I couldn't help but smile like an idiot, a huge grin planted on my face.

"Hi Tom!" I squealed, I held out the new album they had produced, Humanoid. He chuckled at my excitement, quickly signing the album. "Oh before I go, could you do me a favour and sign my chest?" I smirked, unbuttoning the top part of my blouse and flaunting the skin.

He raised an eyebrow, smirking, "Ah, of course," he moved the sharpie to my skin, signing my chest with a flourish, his hand lingering on my chest for a moment, "there you go, sweetheart," he said, I slid him a small note, winking at him as I walked off to Gustav.

I watched as he opened the note, a grin forming on his face as he pocketed the note, returning to sign fans items. As the meet and greet ended I walked back home, the nights breeze cool against my skin. I couldn't believe I actually had a chance with the one and only Tom Kaulitz, even if I was just a quick fuck to him I'd be happy.

I quickly slipped inside my house, locking the door behind me and taking my coat off, smirking down at my signed chest. I bit my lip in anticipation, the thought of Tom actually calling me making my heart race.

Then, my phone suddenly started to ring, buzzing in my jean pocket. I quickly grabbed my phone, struggling to get it open with my shaky hands, an unknown number was calling and I knew it had to be him, I instantly picked up, "hello?" I said innocently, "Hey, its Tom. We met at the meet and greet, I was wondering if you wanted to grab a drink sometime," his voice low and sultry.

I smirked, "oh yeah? How about you come to my place now, I have loads of drinks," I giggled, "that's the kind of invitation I cant resist, I'll be there soon, sweetheart," he chuckled lowly, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

I quickly scrambled around my house, finding the sexiest outfit I could find. I settled on a cute cherry red dress with a leather jacket and long black boots. As soon as he arrived I practically ran to the door, greeting him with a smile.

"You look amazing," he shot me a wink, reaching out and grabbing my hand, planting a soft kiss. "What a gentlemen you are, hm?" I rolled my eyes playfully and invited him in, he was wearing a black leather jacket with some dark blue jeans, his cologne intoxicating.

"Come sit, I'll make you something to drink," I smiled, guiding him to the couch, "what would you like?" I looked over my shoulder, "just a whiskey and coke baby, nothing too complicated," he huffed, getting comfortable.

I grabbed the heavy bottle of jack daniels, pouring a generous amount and topping it off with cola, I moved to the wine cabinet and poured a glass for me before sitting next to him.

"You are gorgeous," he leaned in, brushing a stray hair from my face. "O..oh.." I stumbled over my words, his presence making me nervous. "Don't be nervous baby, it's just me..I won't bite.." he smirked, placing his drink down and kissing me gently, tasting the whiskey left over on his lips.

"God, you taste amazing," I smirked, deepening the kiss, his hands exploring my body. I slowly shifted into his lap, feeling his hands snake down to my ass, giving it a soft squeeze.

He forced his tongue in my mouth, grinding his hard cock against me, "god..you're driving me crazy.." he muttered, reaching up and tangling his fingers in my hair as he dominated the kiss. He broke away for a moment, panting heavily as he gazed into my eyes, "take everything off...I need you liebe.." he grunted, his voice rough with desire.

I instantly obeyed, taking my jacket off and teasingly slipping my dress straps slowly, watching as his hunger grew at the sight of my bare skin, the signature still on my chest above my boob.

I slid the dress off, leaving me in my lacey black bra and matching black thong, "fuck..you really wanted to impress me huh?" he chuckled, laying back and taking in all of my features.

"You're more beautiful than I imagined.." his breath hitched as he caressed my skin, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through my body. I reached behind me and cliped my bra off, my tits spilling out.

"Oh fuck.." I felt his erect cock press into my thigh, he reached out to touch me, his fingers gently caressing my nipples as he leans in to take a nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting softly. I rolled my eyes back, the sensation of his tongue swirling around my sensitive buds addicting, my hands wrapped around his head, tugging at his braids.

"You like that, baby?" he smirked, I nodded slowly, throwing my head back as he grazed his teeth over my nipple. "How about you get on your knees and suck my cock, hm?" he whispered, his breath hot against my neck.

My eyes widened at his request, I'd never done that, the only experience I had was one guy fucking me, this was so embarassing..Being with a rockstar who was beyond experienced, yet having barely any experience myself.

"Uh...Tom.." I looked back at him, "hm? Having doubts?" he chuckled, caressing my ass, "no...it's just, I've never sucked cock before..." I bit my lip, waiting for him to make fun of me, but his eyes just softened, "oh..it's ok schatzi, I'll teach you," he said gently, "just get on your knees and I'll guide you," he instructed.

I nodded, sliding off his lap and onto the floor on my knees, I sat in between his thighs, looking up at him for guidance. "Okay, now take my pants off for me baby," he smiled gently. I unbuckled his belt, placing it to the side before sliding his jeans down, his cock straining against his grey boxers.

"Keep going.." he muttered, I sighed and slid his boxers down, his cock sprang out and slapped against his abdomen, my eyes widened at his size, how the fuck was I going to fit that in my mouth?

He chuckles and took my hand, guiding it to his cock, showing me how to stroke it, "now wrap your lips around the tip.." he groaned, pushing my head down. I hesitated but obliged, wrapping my lips around the head of his cock, softly sucking, "ohhh baby.." he moaned lowly, murmuring words of encouragement and praise as I lowered my head onto his cock, "good girl..just like that," he groaned, his fingers tangling in my hair once again.

He helps guide me as I take him deeper, showing me how to bob my head and use my hand to stroke the parts of his cock that didn't fit in my mouth. "Can you do it on your own now baby?" he mumbled, "yeah..I think so.." I muttered, trying to speak despite my mouth full of cock.

"Go ahead.." he smirked, watching as I lowered my head on his cock again, flattening my tongue on his cock, feeling the buldging veins. He lets out a low groan of pleasure as he watches me suck his cock, feeling my mouth move against him, he runs his fingers over my cheek, a signal for me to keep going.

I swirled my tongue around his tip everything I came up, his grip tightening every time on my hair, "mmm.." he moaned, his balls tightening. Without warning Tom suddenly pushed my head down deeper onto his cock, filling my mouth completely as he begins to fuck my face in earnest. He thrusts in and out of my mouth, holding onto the back of my head as he takes his pleasure from me.

"You like that, don't you schlampe..." he growled, continuing to fuck my mouth as he watches me writhe and squirm beneath him, clearly enjoying the power he holds over me.

I nodded, humming in response, saliva building around my mouth. He pushes his cock even deeper until he's almost to the point of making me gag, "mmmh! Can't take anymore!" I whined, holding onto his thigh.

"Shut up...take it.." he grunted, his grip on the back fo my head tightening as he thrusts harder into my mouth, a deep growl rumbling in his chest as he fucks my face mercilessly, pulling at my hair.

"Gonna cum!" he yelped, slamming his cock into my throat, his balls slapping against my chin, beads of saliva dripping down my chin. "Ohhh fuck!" he gasped, shooting a load into my mouth, letting it seep down my throat.

He smirked, pulling his dick from my mouth, watching as a bit of his cum drips from my lips down to my chin, "swallow it all, now," he commanded, a satified sigh came out of his mouth as he saw my throat bob up and down.

"I'm not done with you.." he growled, flipping me onto my stomach and yanking my pants down, along with my panties, around my ankles. I arched my back, flaunting my wet pussy to him.

"Oh fuck..wet already?" he chuckled, his fingers dug into my hips as he spreads my legs wider, his eyes locked on my dripping cunt. "I'll destroy this pussy before you know it..." I felt the couch dip behind me as he aligned his tip at my entrance, slowly pushing every inch in.

"Tom!" I gasped, his thick cock stretching me out, "take it...take it all.." he grunted, grabbing hold of my hips and thrusting into me harshly, his hips slamming against my ass over and over as he fucks me with wild abandon.

Hr grunted, his cock throbbing inside of me as he fucks me hard and faster, his tip stabbing into my g spot and sending shockwaves throughout my entire body. "Ohhh fuck!" I gasped, desperatly gripping onto the couch

He chuckled, raising his hand and smacking my ass roughly, "you like that don't you? Being fucked rough and hard like this.." he whispered in my ear, pounding his cock into my needy cunt.

"Mm, yes I love it!" I cried out, rolling my eyes back as the pleasure rose, his thrusts becoming erratic as he gets lost in the moment, completely drunk off of my pussy, "fuck, you're so fucking good.." he growled, enjoying the way I reponded to his rough treatment.

I felt tension begin to form in my stomach, signalling my impending release, his fingers dug deep into my hips, leaving bruises behind. "You're gonna cum on this fucking cock..." he groaned, moving his hand down to my breast, fiddling with my nipples with his fingers, rubbing them in between his thumb and index finger.

"Ohhh fuck!" I whined, feeling myself get closer and closer, his thrusts never faltering, only getting harder. His hips slapping against my ass with a loud smack, his other hand reaching down to my clit as he starts to furiously rub rough circles on it.

"Cum baby..let go for me.." he growled, his fingers moving in quick tight circles, bringing me closer to my orgasm. "Fuck!" I squealed, my walls clenching around his cock, he started to rub my clit faster, savouring the feeling of my cunt tightly wrapped around his shaft.

With one last hard thrust I came, my orgasm coming in shock waves as my juices spilled down his cock, "shit!" he quickly pulled out, spilling his cum onto my ass, watching it in awe.

"Fuck..." I panted, Tom grabbed a tissue and wiped us both down, laying behind me as I collapsed on the couch, he gently caressed my curves, looking down at me, "I think I should bring you on our tours, I can't get enough of you," he chuckled, leaning down and kissing me softly.

tags: @itsmealaiah @itsmealaiah @kaulitzsbabyy

tags: @ballhair @kaulitzswhxre @cosmicck

tags: @bkaulitzlover @ge-billsgf @tomsonlyslut

tags: @20doozers @ella1289 @miyukafujii

[dira333]

To come home - Kageyama x Reader

for @writingsofanomnivore - Haikyuu Taglist: @lees-chaotic-brain

Coming home is both the best and the worst part of your day.

There's no free seat left and your feet ache from the shoes you thought were cute in the morning. You're tired in a way no coffee can appease but you still have to get through half an hour train ride before you're remotely close to your bed.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket and you pull it out, stress lifting just from the sight of the message.

Because coming home also means coming home to him.

It's not that hard to find him in the crowds, the last drops of evening sun caught in the shadows of his dark hair. His eyes are closed and you'd assume he's falling asleep standing up if you didn't know better.

"Hey," you link your arm with his and lean into him, "I'm here."

Ever since Hinata introduced him to it, Tobio has been trying to meditate. So far with limited success.

"Hey," he presses a kiss to your lips. "Welcome back."

"How was your day?" You ask, hand in his as you cross the street. There's a Konbini not far from your shared apartment and you listen to his recollection of today's training as you fill your basket with fresh produce.

"Blueberries?" You ask, holding up a box. He nods, loading his arms with milk, cheese, and some yogurt. "Buy two," he says, "You'll probably eat one on your own. Anyway, while I was practicing my jump serve, Hoshiumi-"

Arms heavy with groceries you make the short trek down the street and up the stairs to your apartment. It's your turn now to tell him about your day and you're in the middle of explaining something when one box of Blueberries slips from your grasp.

You can see it fall, dread the moment it will hit the ground and catapult its content everywhere but Tobio is a little faster and picks it out of the air like he's receiving in a match.

"That was close," you gasp but he snorts, clearly insulted by your lack of faith. "I'm sorry," you lean in to kiss him again, your hands still occupied, "You're my hero."

-

Coming home with him is still your favorite thing in the world. You love coming home earlier and getting everything ready, surprising him with his favorite meal ready to eat and seeing his eyes light up on the doorstep. You love coming home to him, hair damp from a shower, his figure drowning in the comfiest clothes he owns, the one and only meal he's perfected making bubbling on the stove.

But coming home with him just hits differently.

How you giggle in the doorway, somehow always in the way of the other person, stumbling over and around each other, pressing kisses to every speck of skin you can reach just to annoy, distract, confuse.

Tobio loves playing Tetris with the Fridge and you don't mind getting started with Dinner, inspiration overflowing after you've spent picking out ingredients at the store. There's the chitchat that flows into each recipe, the jokes he remembers from last week or how you suddenly remember that Yachi invited you over for the weekend and you still need a present to bring along.

Tired feet stretched out under the table when Dinner is finally ready and the satisfied hum at the back of your throat when it's exactly the thing you'd been craving all day.

-

"What are you doing?" Tobio asks, towel in his hands. He finished doing the dishes while you freshened up a little and grabbed your Tablet on the way back.

"I wanted to do some online shopping."

"What are we in for today?" He slips onto the couch, curls around you like the world's cuddliest snake, chin hooked over your shoulder. "You didn't buy the shoes you picked out last week."

"Yes, because I told myself if I didn't think of them again on my own I'd take them out of the cart. Now you made me think of them."

"Oh," he grins, "So I get to buy them for you?"

"No, I get to buy them for myself."

"But I wanna spoil you," he tries to grab the Tablet from your grasp but you've learned to defend yourself against Tobio's bouts of generosity. It's not that you don't like it when he does it, but he's yet to learn a healthy balance. And sometimes, you don't really wanna buy the stuff you put in your cart, you just want to look at cool things and put them away for later consideration.

"Not those shoes," you beg, "Let me find some other ones."

"Fine," he eventually relents, huffing as if this is a great sacrifice for him. Not that he falls silent, though. He's got an opinion on everything.

"They're too brown. Ugh, not brown enough. What even is that strap? Trying to strangle your ankles or what? No... This dress reminds me of Hinata in our orange jerseys, that's not the connection I wanna make. Oooooh, this one!" He interrupts your scrolling and taps the screen violently, opening another tab.

"The dress, the purse or the jewelry?" You ask, a little confused. It's a nice fit, you suppose, but you're not sure what he's getting at.

"Neither. She's wearing a hat and you need one for the summer. You always get sunburn on your ears."

-

There's a certain type of coziness that can only be reached when you're ready for bed, curled up in the comfort of clean sheets, waiting for your partner to step out of the bathroom.

You can hear Tobio brush his teeth and just the sound of it, so well-known you could probably pick him out of hundreds of others, lets you relax just a little bit more.

By the time he slips into bed with you, your eyes are already closed and you manage little more than a "Love you T-" before you slip away.

-

Tobio drops a kiss on your forehead, checks if you're really asleep by snipping his fingers next to your ear, and when he's satisfied with the results, picks your Tablet from your bedside table. The password is the day you two got together so he doesn't need long to find what you had been looking for not long ago.

He might not be the smartest guy in the world, but at least he knows what he's getting you next...

[wave2eve]

Anton during NNN

note: AAAA my first post, kinda nervous

content warning: overstim (f receiving), mention of pool sex

He definitely acts like it’s the easiest thing ever “one month is barely anything” is all he says

His strategy is definitely distraction whether it’s producing more, hanging out with friends more or just putting together his newest Gundam Bandai kit

His second strategy is avoidance, he will put off most physical contact with you just in case “sorry i can’t hang out today I have to walk my fish” something like that

Day 14 is where he starts to struggle but only because you start getting needy and who is he to deny his pretty girls needs

You challenged him to get you off without him cumming “if I win, you have to let me try one of my weirdest fantasies”

Both of you guys knew it was very likely that he would lose anyways which is why when he said that you agreed happily

He got to work ASAPPPP (baby, hurry up don’t be lazy 🎶)

Partly because he missed you so much and felt like he was starting to forget little details about your body (he’s very dramatic ik)

“Let go for me, baby” he whispered as you reached your high

I feel like he might overstimulate you just so he can see you react to the pleasure “too much? One more for me please, I need it”

You nodded quickly (you could never say no to him) and took it like the good girl you are

After a few more “one more”s you were beyond finished and just wanted to cuddle up and have some aftercare

As you both layed in bed you asked the big question “what was your fantasy?” since you guys were usually open about this type of stuff

“Hm~ it was for us to try something at a swimming pool but sadly I lost” he said the last part with a slight teasing tone

Turns out he couldn’t resist cumming to the site of you cumming?!

“We can still do it if you want” you spoke with a shrug, knowing that your boyfriend will DEFINITELY say yes

[mosquito-queen]

“kate bishop, you do not smoke!”

but yelena did. she did and she would ask kate for a light, just to tease, but she didn’t know how stupidly kate wanted to touch her mouth. so kate bought a shitty plastic lighter that was nearly the same color as yelena’s eyes. and she stole yelena’s much sturdier, metal cased lighter that looked like someone had attempted to knife a design into it. and she waited.

she waited until yelena’s phone pinged and the widow grew agitated with whatever was on the screen. and she waited until yelena grabbed her vest and aggressively motioned for kate to follow down the stairs and out into the crowded street. she waited until yelena produced a cigarette and then patted down her vest pockets looking for something she couldn’t find - because it was in kate’s poor excuse for a cutlery drawer at her new apartment. (which she did now at least own two of everything, thank you!)

and then kate didn’t have to wait anymore. because yelena was scowling and desperately rummaging in her empty pockets and kate said, so very cooly: “do you need a light?”

kate held up her shitty gas station lighter and yelena looked just as surprised as when kate slapped her in the elevator nearly six months ago, “kate bishop, you do not smoke!”

which was a point of contention. because kate hated when yelena smoked, but one time she wanted to put her mouth where yelena’s had been because it was the closest she would ever get to what she really wanted. and she had taken a drag and nearly hacked up a lung while yelena berated her for even trying. while yelena said all the same reasons kate told her not to smoke. and then kate was laughing and coughing which made tears streak down her face. and yelena had told her at least she was cute when she wasn’t trying to be cool. and that was a small win.

but kate was trying to be cool right now. she was trying to keep her panicky, throbbing heart from busting out her chest. because, she was going to light yelena’s cigarette and a small part of her brain told her she was special for that, that this was only something yelena would let her do. “do you want it or not?”

and yelena put the cigarette between her lips with a roll of her eyes, her hand outreached to grab the lighter. but kate swatted it away, and flicked the stupid thing - once, twice, fuck was it going to light? embarrassment at her shortfall burned her face, and kate sheepishly looked at yelena. which was always a mistake. because yelena looked like an angel - well the kind that definitely got expelled from heaven. she had a godawful crooked smirk around the cigarette because yelena knew, she always knew kate’s spiraling shenanigans.

and yelena took mercy. as merciful as a fallen angel could be. her hands cupped around kate’s holding the lighter, brought it closer to her face. her eyelashes fluttered and kate almost whined. her last brain cell worked and a flame finally sputtered from the definitely uncool means of getting the proximity kate craved.

yelena lit the cigarette, slowly pulling away. after a dramatic inhale, she took it out of her mouth and said so disgustingly simple: “kate bishop, it is your turn to take me on an american date, yes?”

kate spluttered, “my turn?”

“we had drinks, i paid,” yelena’s nose crinkled, “i said -“

“you said it might not be so bad to be my hawkeye’s widow.”

“and then you choked on your liquor.”

“i thought you meant -“

yelena’s face fell and kate could of kicked herself. “oh, do you not want -“

“no! i mean yes! of course! yes,” kate’s heart was definitely exploded twice over, “i want to take you on a date.” did those words really come out of her mouth?

“good.” it sounded more like a threat, but yelena beamed at kate. she put the half-used cigarette out on the pavement and tugged kate’s sleeve in the direction of their mission, “first we take care of business, then you take me to coney island.”

kate had no choice but to trail after yelena, “coney island? i thought i got to pick this time.”

yelena let out a short bark of laughter.

several bruises and crude stitches later, they went to coney island.

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 26 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

-The next day, he does not even try to ply you with the promise of release. He is not cruel, but he simply takes what he wants from your increasingly sore body, offering nothing in return. You almost prefer this, at this point, except he is absolutely running you ragged. You’d thought you could wear him out with your advantage of youth, but this man is fucking insatiable.

By the next day, you can’t stop yourself from begging, when he wakes you with insistent kisses on your neck and sweet nothings delivered with a growl in your ear. “John…I can’t,” you whine. “Please, I need a break.”

He dismisses this with a disbelieving snort, thinking you are crying wolf, no doubt. But when he flips you to fuck you from behind, something he’s grown increasingly fond of over the past few days, because he likes the shape of your ass, the tight angle—or that he doesn’t have to look into your accusing expression—you find yourself crying into the pillow.

It hurts.

You are bruised to the point where you cannot sit comfortably, and even with the impossible buckets of slick your body has somehow produced in his presence, he has rubbed you raw.  

And he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care.

This is the litany that runs through your mind, and it breaks your heart more than anything else he’s done to you so far. That he is so far gone in his madness that you hardly recognize him…

This is the thing that breaks you, and certainly not in the way he intended.

You start to cry even harder into the pillow, the wound in your heart far more devastating to you than anything physical. You feel it in your chest like you did take a blade or a bullet, an agonizing ache that makes you wish for numbness more than anything that has transpired. This is worse than the kidnapping, worse than him dangling you on the edge of pleasure for days on end.

This is the thing that will sap your will to live, and you can almost see the spiraling dark maw of the abyss that looms before you.

This is also the only thing for days that has given him the slightest pause. He drapes himself over you to gather you in his arms.

“Are you crying, baby girl?”  

“Yes,” you sniff.

You’ve pretty much taken everything he’s thrown at you until now with a lifted chin and a do your worst. Tears of despair actually seem to throw him.

“Why?”

“Because you’re hurting me, and you don’t care.” You know you sound as despondent as you feel. “The man I fell for protected me, he killed for me, but I never thought he would hurt me. Who even are you?” A new wave of anguish makes you sob into the pillow. It is not pretty crying, sweet glittering tears sliding down your cheeks. This is ugly crying, the expulsion of pain from the darkest depths of your soul, and once it starts you cannot stop.

He goes still as a statue behind you, ceasing even to breathe, the only motion the throb of his rock-hard cock still buried inside you. You do not know if you have displeased him, and he’s dreaming up some new punishment—or if just this once, he actually hears you.

You’re not exactly a religious person, but you find yourself praying to whatever laughing god that might take mercy on you, that he finally hears you.

He stays like this for what feels like an eternity, but can’t be more than a minute at most.

You are shocked, when carefully he slides out you, rolling to pull you against his chest, his big hand protectively cradling the side of your head, holding you hard enough to squeeze the breath from you. You realize, to your astonishment, he is shaking too, and he lets out a long, slow breath, pressing his lips to your hair.

This would have inspired excitement in you, if you weren’t so goddammed exhausted. Wrung out, body and soul. As it is, it takes all your control not to break down and weep again. He doesn’t say he’s sorry outright, but he holds you like he is. At this point, you’ll take what you can get amidst this madness you’re trapped in.

He kisses you again with a promise of, “I’ll be back,” and disappears into the bathroom. You hear the taps of the bathtub running. This too, you have learned to dread. But you cannot fight him, when he returns to scoop you up in his arms, and lowers the two of you together in the rising warm water.   

You wait for the usual shenanigans—but they do not come. He just…holds you, and you only keep yourself together by a thread. With a tremulous sigh of relief you dare to settle further into his arms, savoring this closeness without the threat of sex in the air.

“I’m sorry,” he says against the top of your head. “You just…you make me crazy.”

It’s perhaps the closest thing to the truth he’s said since you’ve gotten here.

“I’ll give you a rest,” he promises, and if you hadn’t been sitting you might have fallen over with surprise.

“Thank you,” you say, relieved to the tips of your toes, kissing him sweetly. It’s a gentle press of lips that curls your toes, and a strangled little sound escapes from somewhere deep in his chest.

You pretend not to see it, but there is a glitter of a tear in the corner of his eye too.

After a little while he kisses your cheek, saying again, “I’ll be back.”

You watch him exit the tub and cinch a towel around his narrow waist. Despite everything, you admit that you have yet to tire of the view. Water beading on that man’s skin is a thing to inspire the songs of angels.

Or demons, perhaps, but either way it is divine to behold.

You wait, but he doesn’t return.

You linger in the water until it begins to cool, wondering what he’s up to.

It is telling of what a cautious creature you’ve become, for the way you are reluctant to move from the place he left you. But your fingers are turning to prunes, so you get out of the bath, drying yourself off and slathering yourself with the wonderful smelling lotion he’d gifted you, that cost a whole day’s pay from your time at the coffee shop.

It is hard not to gauge the cost of things against hours of your life, when you work in service. What are your hours worth now? You realize you don’t even know what day it is.

For the first time in a while you take a moment to actually look at yourself in the mirror. Your body is riddled with constellations of love bites in various states of healing, bruises in every shade of the rainbow. John Wick has marked you in just about every way a man can, yet still, you hold out.

Perhaps it is you who is delusional about this situation.  

When you exit the bathroom you freeze in your tracks, hardly believing your eyes. The door—THE DOOR!—is hanging wide open, almost in invitation.

Rather than excitement, your first reaction is a thrill of fear running down your spine, as you wonder if it is a sick test.

But in the end, you cannot resist.

Wary of appearances, you throw on one of your numerous new silky nighties and a blue robe that is impossibly soft upon your skin. What mad woman would attempt to make an escape dressed like this? You hope the odds are in your favor. 

On soft feet you pad to the top of the stairs, peeking over the landing. The smell of fresh brewed coffee wafts up towards you, and the sound of something frying in the kitchen. Cautiously you descend, making your way towards the promise of culinary delights.

For the second time in ten minutes, the sight before you makes you freeze in your tracks.  

John is busy cooking in the kitchen, wearing a black kimono-style robe that gapes over his bare chest. He is very intently reading a recipe, whipping something in a bowl, and watching a sizzling hot pan.

You stand there, still as a statue, drinking in the sight until Dog blows your cover, trotting over to greet you with a wagging tail. You get down on your knees to hug him and scratch his ears. You have not seen him since your first escape attempt, and though you strangely hadn’t really doubted John would keep his word, you are relieved to receive proof of life.

“How does French toast sound?” John asks, as though today is a normal day in a string of normal days, and you live and eat together like two normal people who cohabitate.

“It sounds lovely,” you admit, cautiously perching on one of the barstools. “Can I help?”

“No, sweetheart, let me take care of you.” You wonder if this is more to keep you away from the potential weapon of a heavy, hot pan full of bacon and grease, but you are fine to sit and watch him.

You notice the knife block is completely emptied of blades.

When you are seated together in the breakfast nook, your legs tangled under the little table, dining off melamine plates with plastic utensils but enjoying a very good meal none the less, John throws you for yet another curveball.

“I’m sorry, that I’ve been so…insatiable,” he says. He could have knocked you off your stool with a feather. “I…” He shakes his head, clenching his fist on the table, the tendons in his forearm popping. “I just want you, so much.”

Your lip quivers at hearing that, and the truth spills from your lips before you can even think to hold it in. “I want to be wanted by you, John! It’s all I’ve wanted, since…the first moment I saw you.” If you’re being honest. “But all this…?” You wave your hands in an encompassing manner, unsure how else to express what he’s put you through.

It’s a lot, would be the understatement of the year. You’re not able to get it out though, because there’s a stone lodged in your throat, and suddenly you’re not sure if you want to cry or throw up.

Seeing you’re distressed again, he opens his arms to you. “C’mere.” It’s like walking into the claws of the dragon, you know, but you shuffle over to fall into his lap anyway. How insane is it, that this man is the flame that burns you, and the only balm that soothes you? He holds you tight against his chest, rocking you gently. You manage not to cry again, but you can’t stop shaking for a long time.

Only once you settle down does he speak again. “You are tough, you know that? I didn’t realize I was hurting you.”

You blink, unsure for a good minute what the fuck to say to that. The truth is that it is unfathomable, what savagery women can endure, when they have to. You’re not sure you want to say that aloud to him.

It might come off as a challenge.

You are hardly winning any trophies for fastest comeback, when finally you quip into his collarbone, “You forgot you’re dealing with a junior blackbelt. We are trained in the ways…”

He looks down at you for a long second, as though he’s not sure if you’re joking or not. And then it is like the sun breaking from the clouds when he smiles, a genuine, toothy flash of mirth that mercilessly squeezes your heart in your chest. He looks almost boyish in that moment, and it is beautiful to behold.

“So I forgot,” he admits, kissing your forehead. 

“I guess you’re like…50th dan or some shit?” you ask, referring to his own belt ranking.

He chuckles at that, though there is a note of melancholy beneath it. “We don’t count dan where I trained, sweetheart. Just bodies on the ground.”

“That’s a lovely thought over breakfast…”

He snorts. “You remind me of me, you know, when I was younger,” he tells you quietly.

“How so?” you ask, thinking you’re not that tough.

“Too stubborn for my own good.” He smiles again, softer this time, but no less heartbreaking. He is not making fun of you. It is almost like he’s…commiserating with you, and it’s weird as hell. “I’ll give you a week to heal. Alright?”

You didn’t expect him to give you an hour, much less a week. “Okay…”

“Ok, what?” he prompts with a smirk, that breathtaking twinkle in his eye that makes you want to throttle him and kiss him all at once.

You can hardly refrain from rolling your eyes. “Thank you, Mr. Wick.”

He sighs at hearing it, like a sated lion.

You wonder if he’ll keep his word.

[callsign-rogueone]

field work

Sawyer Henrick x reader part three of Sawyer and Peach’s story words: 2.5k 🏷️: no book spoilers. more mentions of James being a mysoginist creep but it’s not actually shown (yet), these two are still in denial, and they will be for quite a while. hey, that rhymed. anyway here is your crumb of gf content for the week! sweetheart or love next, probably.

“And here I thought all Lucerans knowing each other was a stereotype,” Rhiannon muses over her drink.

“Oh, it’s not that we all know each other,” you say with a grin, “it’s that we can always find each other in a crowd.“

“And you always get along like wildfire?” Ridoc asks. 

You blink for a moment, silent, but Sawyer answers for you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and squeezing gently. “That might just be a ‘her thing’. She’s never met a human, or a horse, that she couldn’t befriend.”

“Infantry not included,” you snort, recovering from your momentary blip.

“Okay, I have to know — why’d you turn him down the first time?” Rhiannon asks. “Like, before he started being a creep, I mean. I’m with you 100%, whatever it is, I’m just curious.”

“He’s rude to everyone but me, even his friends. They only hang out with him because he's the top dog over there, even though it’s clear his daddy bought him his leadership position — his boots are too clean.”

She tilts her head to the side, not quite following. Ridoc pulls his leg up, inspecting his left shoe.

“It’s a figure of speech,” you laugh, waving a hand at him. “Means he’s not a worker. He’s one of those rich-boy types, always prattling on about honor, and serving his country, following in daddy’s footsteps, which he’s decided includes making me his sweet little housewife who will follow all his orders and produce him a litter of sons that will all grow up to look and act exactly like him.”

Everyone’s jaws drop.

“He said that to you?”

“Not those words exactly, but yes. He thinks all Luceran women are sweet and submissive and only ever aspire to be mothers and housewives. As if I’m not here to study for a career that’s going to keep me on the front for the next ten years. I’ve told him that, but he seems to think that I’m playing hard to get or something, and I’ll change my mind if he keeps asking.”

Sawyer’s fork bends in his grip, but he quickly rights it again before anyone other than Violet can notice. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I know the value of housework and homesteading. I’ve helped my mother do those things for years. It’s hard work, and it’s important. And I do want a few children eventually, but not half a dozen, and certainly not with him — with someone that respects me, and who will raise them with me as a partner.”

“I’m glad you know what you want,” Rhiannon says, looking directly at Sawyer.

“At least I won’t have to see him this week. It’s my turn for the foraging assignment, so I’ll be spending my workday in the woods.”

“Doing what, exactly?” Sawyer asks.

“Collecting ten kinds of herbs that have medicinal properties, and preparing them into various salves and things for one third of my final grade.”

“Fun,” Ridoc says dryly.

You shrug. “I don’t mind it. Being out there reminds me of home. And it’s nice to not be cooped up in the infirmary all the time.”

—————————————

You nearly trip over your own feet as you see the giant red mass in front of you. You’ve seen hundreds of dragons flying overhead or across the bridge in the rider’s quadrant, but you’ve never been this close to one before — not a friendly one, at least.

You back up two steps, giving it more space, and it follows you, stepping forward. Every expletive you know flows through your mind in a continuous stream. 

How Sawyer befriended one of these things is beyond you. At least you won’t have to worry about failing this assignment if it roasts you alive.

Just don’t look it in the eye, don’t talk to it…

Your back collides with something solid — a tree trunk. You’re cornered. All you can do is shut your eyes as tightly as possible and make one last prayer to Amari, hoping you’ve done enough good deeds in your twenty-three years to have earned a decent afterlife.

Ten seconds tick by, but nothing happens. 

You crack an eye to see its head directly in front of you. It’s just… sniffing you? You must pass inspection, because it takes a step back, not making any move to harm you. 

You force yourself to relax, deepening your breaths and waiting for it to go away, but it stays in place, still examining you. You suppose you’ll have to be the one to leave — you’re probably in its territory. You take a step to your left, touching your hand to the tree trunk to make sure you’ve cleared it before you start to walk backward.

It chuffs like an irritated horse, stepping closer again — clearly not done with you.

Oh, come on.

You can’t help it. “I know I’m not supposed to talk to you, and I know you can’t talk to me, but I don’t understand what you want,” you blurt. 

It cocks its head at you, and you know you’re doomed. These things can probably smell fear, and you’re absolutely terrified.

Shit, shit, shit.

You backpedal quickly, making an attempt to smooth things over. “Okay, I think we got off to a bad start here. I’m sorry for trespassing. I won’t do it again. It would be really great if we could just…”

You fall silent, hearing a group of people headed toward you, their voices carrying through the trees easily. One of them has a fresh wave of nausea and anxiety flowing through you — James.

Forget the fire-breathing beast standing in front of you; the three human men approaching are infinitely more terrifying, capable of much more intricate and abject cruelty than any being on this planet.

You slip your hand into the pocket of your jacket, feeling for the handle of the knife Sawyer had given you and settling your fingers into the grooves. It’s been a comfort to you thus far, but you’ve never had to use it before. And what good will it be against three fully armed infantry, when you’re alone in the middle of the forest?

But you aren’t completely alone. 

The dragon has turned its head toward the voice, hackles raised; clearly agitated. Maybe you’ll have time to run if they distract it — but you couldn’t bring yourself to abandon the boys to die, even if they’ve been bothering you for nearly two months now.

It unfurls a massive wing, placing it in front of you, and bares its teeth in a snarl. You can't see the looks on their faces, but you can hear them shriek like little children, bolting in the opposite direction.

You hold your breath until you can no longer hear them running. “Thank you,” you whisper, even though the boys are far gone by now.

It… nods? 

You take a moment to collect yourself, your heart still racing as you process the events of the last five minutes. A red dragon showing up at the exact right time to protect you from James, taking its time sniffing you and letting you be this close, letting you talk to it… This cannot be a coincidence. No way.

“Sawyer sent you, didn’t he?” 

Another nod.

You sigh in a mix of relief and exasperation. “I love that boy dearly, but he just does not think things through sometimes. I was fully convinced that you were going to kill me. You’re terrifying — no offense. Or maybe that’s a compliment to you guys. I don’t know.”

A chuff that almost sounds like a laugh. 

“Either way, thank you again for scaring that guy off. I can’t stand him, or his friends. They give me the creeps. The idea of being out here alone with them…” you shudder just thinking about it, but shake it off quickly, managing a smile.

You slip Sawyer’s knife back into your pocket, digging out your crumpled list of herbs to find. “I don’t think they’ll be headed this way for the rest of the afternoon,” you say, too polite to tell him he can leave. He makes no move to, anyway.

Alright, then. You wouldn’t mind having him watch over you while you finish up, just for peace of mind. And he probably knows the area better than you do, having lived here for years. You honestly aren’t sure how to get back to the school from here. You can see the bell tower, but it’s distant enough to make you nervous.

He stays a few giant steps behind you as you work, keeping an eye on you when you go somewhere he’s too big to follow. 

Chamomile, echinacea, calendula, feverfew, valerian, mint, lemon balm, sage, thistle, centella…

“That’s everything,” you sigh in relief, wiping your hands on the soft cloth you’d taken out with you. The school looks considerably closer now, the path you’d started off on back under your feet. “Thank you again. I felt a lot safer with you around. After I realized you weren’t going to torch me, that is.”

He puffs out another almost-laugh. 

You’re quiet for a moment. “You chose well. Sawyer’s a great guy. I’m proud to call him a friend, and I’m glad he has someone like you by his side. Take care of him for me, please?”

He closes his eyes, giving you a slow, almost solemn nod before he takes a few steps away and launches himself into the air, ruffling your hair and robes with the gust of wind it produces. 

You can hear the bells chime — ten. You’d spent nearly an hour with him, and another before that on your own, getting yourself lost. You have plenty of time to work before you need to get to your evening class, and Sawyer should have a break in an hour or so. Maybe he’ll come see you, and you can lovingly tell him off for having his dragon scare the pants off of you, and then thank him for it. 

————————————

There’s a soft knock on the doorframe. You can’t stop the smile from crossing your face as you look up to see Sawyer, still in his usual all black. 

“How did it go?”

“Just fine,” you answer. “I got everything I needed. And I met a friend of yours.”

“Oh?” he asks, wondering who it could be; you’ve already met his squadmates, and he doesn’t really count anyone else as a friend besides them. And aren’t you supposed to keep your patients’ names secret?

You hum in reply, still plucking the leaves from the stems. “Big tall guy, red skin, lots of teeth…”

His eyes widen as he realizes that Sliseag hadn’t stayed as far away from you as he’d instructed. 

“You told me to protect her, not to watch idle.”

Sawyer ignores him. “I’m so sorry, Peach, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay. He ended up scaring off James and his twin idiots, and we had a lovely, if rather one-sided conversation.”

His heart might give out. “You talked to him? He let you?”

“The first time was an accident!” you defend. “He cornered me, and wouldn’t let me leave, and I couldn’t figure out what he wanted, so I asked. And then I realized he was yours, and we chatted while I picked all of this. Yes or no questions only, of course, since he couldn’t respond to me with words.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “You’ve always been good with animals,” he concedes. “I guess that includes dragons, too.”

“I’m offended to be put in that category.”

Sawyer ignores him again. “Wait, why were dumb, dumber, and dumbest there?”

You can’t help but laugh at the nicknames he’s assigned them, even if they���re a little mean. “Infantry are always in the woods playing soldier. That’s all they ever do. Nolon warned us about it earlier in the year.”

“Do you have to go back out there again?”

“Only if I fail this assignment,” you say quietly, looking down at everything you’ve gathered.

“I’m sure you’re going to do great. I’m absolutely positive. When will you know?”

“Tomorrow morning I’ll see if I get a passing score. Some of the preparations have to sit overnight, or dry out for a few days, so the rest of the points will be calculated then.”

He can tell you’re anxious about this, from the way your voice has quieted. “Hey. You’re going to do amazing, because you are amazing,” he says, giving you a gentle squeeze. 

You lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

He’s glad that you can’t see how red his cheeks are in this position. “Alright. I shouldn’t keep you from your work, future Head Healer. The world hangs in the balance here.”

You laugh. “When did you decide that I’m going to be a Head Healer?”

“Just now. I can’t think of anyone better for the job, when the time comes.”

“You don’t know any other healers.”

“I know Sarah,” he defends. “And she’s still threatening me every time I come in. I don’t think her bedside manner is the best.”

“You say that like you’re scared of her, mister dragon rider.”

“She can be quite descriptive with her threats.”

You sigh softly, still leaning into him. “I missed you, you know.”

“You saw me yesterday.”

You elbow him gently, knowing he’s purposely acting obtuse. “I meant before that. Before our paths crossed again. I really missed spending time with you like this. I hope we can keep in touch next year.”

He rests his chin on top of your head, squeezing you gently. “I hope so too. Who knows, maybe we’ll even be stationed together.”

“Maybe. I hear wingleaders and their executive officers get to choose.” It’s your turn to warm with embarrassment at the implication — that he would choose whatever base you’re at, just because you’re there.

“They do. Rhi is definitely going to be the wingleader next year. Maybe I’ll still be her XO. But even if I’m not, I’d do whatever I could to stay with all of you.”

Your heart sinks a bit at the last few words. All of you. You like his squadmates, and they’ve always been kind to you. You’re glad they have his back in the air. You aren’t a jealous person, either. So why does it sting that he holds you equal with the rest of his friends?

“You alright?” He asks softly.

You hum. “Yeah. Just tired. After I finish this, I have a two hour class, and then I’m going straight to bed.”

“You should eat first.”

“I should do a lot of things,” you sigh.

He pulls back to look at you. “I mean it, P. You, of all people, should know how important nutrition is.”

You crack a smile. “I do know. I just like seeing you get worked up about it. It’s cute.”

He sighs. “What am I going to do with you?”

What indeed, you think. What do you want him to do? Better not go down that path.

“Alright. Finish up and get some rest. And food.”

“And food,” you agree. “Promise.”

“Good girl. See you tomorrow?”

You just nod, unable to form a coherent response — and muffle a tiny scream into your hand as soon as he’s out of sight. What the hell just happened?

[hummingbee-lievable]

Song of the Day #24:

'Mile Magnificent' by Molly OfGeography (released 2019).

An apartment when it's empty echoes lovely, bright and clean

Sing odes to green-blue water that we stole so it comes free

All things end, it's part of living; forest fires feed the trees

Lift your glasses full of sunshine, sing a toast to gasoline

Track #4 on 'Myths'.

Fun fact: Molly refers to this song as 'The Song My Producer Said I Was Not Allowed To Name “CHICAGO IS BETTER THAN NEW YORK”'.* Honestly, her descriptions for so of the songs on this album are hilarious:

'1) The Song That Made My Producer Go, “Wait, What Was That Bit About Worms?”

2) The Song My Producer Said I Had To Append A Parenthetical To So That People Would Be Able To Find It Because The Lyrics Never Mention The Title Once But I Was Raised On Fanfiction So Joke’s On You, Pal! I Love A Long Title With A Parenthetical In It!!!

3) The Song That Is Sad'

Pretty dang accurate, honestly. Also, I think she has a Tumblr!!! *Gasp.* What if I...tag her???

@ofgeography Hiiii and thank you, your music is amazing.

I did it bees and knees (yes, this is my hip modern way of including every kind of person, fight me or provide more hilarious options; I'm content with either option).

I have had a fun time perusing this flavourful dose of humanity's wild website and I think my fun fact today should be her story where she becomes a donut god:

You're welcome, singular entity that reads this blog (that entity being my sister and/or the rogue bots, doesn't matter, we're all friends here).

Personal blurb: Alright, full disclosure time: I discovered this artist because of the 'Good Omens' fandom. Someone said we were missing out on feelings and shared this song, and when I tell you I felt those feelings, I certainly don't mean that I danced to this on repeat for several months (and her 'Hanahaki (Bloom)'), often at 3 in the morning in the bathroom. Of course not.

Pro tip: dancing with your toothbrush in your mouth is a choking hazard, but in the spirit of Alanis Morissette, I recommend doing it anyway:

One of my favourite books in the world is 'The Overstory' by Richard Powers. In it, one of the themes that arises often is the concept of pyrophitic serotinous plants (it's okay, I won't remember it either). They are plants that need fire to open. (There are actually different types of pyrophitic plants, from passive to fire-activated but I probably shouldn't start talking about that because you'll need to pull out the duct tape.)

(Technically, 'serotinous' plants are a category in which plants release seeds over a longer period of time, and it doesn't matter how they are released, but the seeds that open by fire fit into this category.) The eucalyptus tree, the lodgehole pine, and other trees encase their seeds in resin that can only be melted by fire (thereby releasing the seeds).

The thing that I love about this concept is this: we need to burn to grow. I recently read this book called 'Life in Oil' about the Cofàn tribe in Ecuador who were drastically impacted by oil companies. And the thing was: Yes. They were impacted horribly (physically, psychologically, environmentally, the works). They also survived. They figured out, through tumult and trial and falling apart, how to keep going.

This song screams to me of that same instinct. I mean, look at us. This is what we do, isn't it? We fight, we fall, we continue. We're just like every other aspect of nature in that we are born, and in our fight to continue, we impact everything around us. We're just a part of the cycle and eventually we will decay back to where we belong and serve as soil for our children. And all we'll be? A story. And after a while, not even that. Just a whisper of what was.

In a way? I find that freeing. We might as well live the life we want to live; how little it will matter. (This isn't absolution, please don't go murdering people.) I just mean that I don't have to put so much weight into every little thing. Not everything has to be joyful or depressing (and if we really think about it, everything is always a balance of both). It can just be what it is.

We are as we are. And we don't have to love ourselves for it, but we don't have to hate ourselves either.

I love the lyrics to this song. For a long time, I misheard 'We're animals of love/ the city never makes us beg' as 'the city never makes us pay' and I don't know why? But I kind of like that image.

We are animals of love. And that's okay.

We are the cogs in a continuous cycle and we always will be.

I think often of this monologue (content warning for the video, it's gory, but you don't need to watch it, you can just listen) from 'Midnight Mass' so often, in regards to this:

We just are. Everything just is.

[damazcuz]

I don't think people responding to the scrambled "uh oh, we got caught" Tumblr AI announcement with "just nightshade and glaze all the art you post guys! it's your own fault if you don't do that small step! It's ok we'll get through this!" are Getting It:

Everything has already been scraped, including the account you haven't been able to access since 2015. Yes even the private, locked sideblogs of all your old art. Did you glaze it? did you nightshade it? in 2015? can you log in and check? no? Opted in.

This also includes any writing, creative or otherwise, posted to Tumblr. Did you nightshade the poetry and fanfiction you posted to Tumblr on your old account in 2018? why not? not a plan-aheader huh? Opted in!

It's opt in by default and by design. People who left Tumblr ages ago will likely not hear about this and won't know to regain account access and opt out. People who have died won't be able to log in and opt out. People who deleted past accounts or sideblogs won't be able to log in and opt out. People whose content is reposted here from Pixiv or other external sources by unrelated third parties won't have any way to say "hey half of that blog is MY stuff. Opt ME out."

Sorry. They just have everything ever put on the site. And you didn't opt out in 2015 when you lost access to your login email, so it's included. This is on purpose because they don't WANT people to be able to opt out, they want people to stay opted in saying "well my art sucks so I'm poisoning the data model 👍" while posting jokes and creative writing, they WANT you to say "well I'm unaffected" and keep posting photos and text and stuff. Midjourney wants that and Tumblr wants to do anything it can to satisfy Midjourney and scrape some cash out of that deal.

I'm sorry because I love this place too, but genuinely the decisions being made here are business decisions being put into place by a company trying to squeeze the last drops of blood out of a stone. Tumblr is not your friend. Staff is not your friend. Automattic is not your friend. The CEO has hopefully PROVEN he is not anyone's friend. This is a business first and a product that they are selling, not to you and me, but to advertisers and partners. Tumblr will ensure that Tumblr users see their ads and supply them data.

Frankly I do not trust this company or this website and I cannot in good faith just believe that they're going to look at my opt out checkbox and say "okay! ^_^ we will remove everything Dama has ever said or done from our AI scrape. we promise to do it!" and then actually do it. They already have the data. They can just claim that whatever is produced through machine learning based in part off of my data is unrelated, came from other sources, etc. I do not have trust in this website. I don't see how anyone could at this point.

I feel like I'm watching a trainwreck from the inside and no one wants to get out of their seats and try hopping off into the safe grassy field. Wait, they say. Let's see if the train just climbs back onto the tracks, they say. The fire and explosions are all part of the process, they say. Eventually people will stop panicking or dying and it'll be a smooth ride, they say. Just look at how bright the horizon is.

[lebrookestore]

sixteen | l.dh [part ii]

Pairing: Lee Donghyuck x reader

Themes: strangers to lovers, highschool! au, coming of age, lovers to exes, exes to lovers to ??, producer! donghyuck (very lightly explored), roommates! au but with a twist, second chance romance, slowburn, angst, fluff, romance, PG 15. (moodboards: i | ii)

Warnings: profanity, heavy ANGST, kissing, food, underage alcohol consumption and alcohol consumption in general, drug use, smoking (vaping, cigarettes and weed consumptions), crude humour, teenagers doing dumb shit as teenagers do, cheating, betrayal.

Word count: 21.6k

Summary: Youth is always accompanied with a fragile glimmer of hope, with you and Donghyuck viewing the world through the rosiest of glasses. But as the ephemeral days of teenage foolishness bleed into the harshness of adulthood, the rosy hue begins to diminish, and you learn that for some people, it just isn’t meant to be.

Playlist: here 

Notes from brooke: here it is!! the second and final part of this fic that has taken me a whole year to write and i'm as proud of it as I am nervous to put out the rest of it here for all of you. as always, feedback would be much appreciated<3

➳ read part i here!!

vii] now.

The aroma of coffee beans being ground wafted through the air, somehow managing to brighten your foul mood. You had never been much of a morning person and could barely start your day without some form of caffeine in your system. On most days, you made your coffee at home before setting out to work, but today you wanted to treat yourself a little bit, and what better way than to put your money towards something practical? 

(This was a hundred percent your attempt at trying to convince yourself the overpriced eight dollar coffee you had just ordered was worth it.)

“Iced Latte for Y/n?”

You got up from the stool you had occupied, making your way over to the counter and barista who had called for you. In another life, you would be one of those cool working ladies who managed to down americanos without flinching, but in this one you were quite content with the milky sweet goodness of a latte. You handed over the money you owed and lifted the straw to your lips, sighing in happiness as soon as the drink hit your tastebuds. 

“Hey, I had placed my order…” A man's voice startled you, but it wasn’t the abruptness that caught you off guard- that was pretty typical for a busy Tuesday morning in New York- but rather the familiarity of it as it trailed off. You spun on your heel quickly, coming face to face with a rather dumbfounded looking Donghyuck. 

You stared at him, lips parting in surprise at his presence there. The barista behind cleared her throat expectantly, waiting for Donghyuck to reiterate his drink order.

He snapped out of the initial shock of seeing you at that. “Right, sorry. I had asked for a caramel frappe about ten minutes ago?” Of course he still had the same order from when you were teenagers, one that was much sweeter than yours. 

“Oh yes, it's ready. Sorry for the delay sir!” Her cheery voice rang out as she held out the drink.

You were still rooted to the spot in front of him.

He pressed his lips together, cocking his head to the side to silently motion towards the counter, signalling that you were currently in his way. “Uh.”

“Oh.” You stepped out of the line, feeling embarrassment quickly creep up upon you for your slowness right then. He grabbed his drink, and moved out of the way for the next person as well, stopping before you for a second, eyes lingering on your face as if trying to read your expression, gauging whether he should say something or not.

Terribly self conscious, you took another sip of the latte you held, though it did nothing to soothe your frayed nerves. He sighed softly, seemingly deciding that doing nothing was for the best, and walked away.

What were the odds of you running into him like this? You had banked on only having to see him when Yeonmi had him over, but now you realised that was incredibly naive of you, since run ins were bound to happen from time to time. It seemed that your naivety from your youth hadn’t quite run out yet.

Often, you thought about how you had been so quick to shut down his pleas to talk about things with you that one movie night, how defensive you had been from the get go. He had done his best to be cautious while approaching the topic, as if he had seen the mental caution tape you had wrapped around your heart when it came to him, but you had been so afraid.

Afraid that whatever explanation he provided you with wouldn’t be sufficient to heal the would he had inflicted. Afraid that if you even began to let him in, you’d forgive him immediately and feel pathetic about dismissing the part of you that was so angry at being left behind without so much as a goodbye. 

But as you watched him walk away and to the door of the cafe, you couldn’t help but wonder why you didn’t let him speak. 

Wasn’t closure something everyone wanted and deserved? You more than anyone knew this and maybe that's what you would have gotten if you hadn’t been so stubborn that night.

Your legs moved on their own, carrying you towards his departing figure. “Wait!”

He stilled, turning around slowly to make sure it was him you were talking to, which was a surprise in itself to him. You bit down on your lower lip, scrambling to find the words you needed to communicate with him. 

“Do you have a few minutes?”

His gaze softened the way it used to when it came to you and he nodded. “I can make time.”

You glanced down at your watch, grateful for actually having one sitting on your wrist. In truth, you had only bought it after noting how almost everyone in your workplace wore one. It didn’t seem professional to constantly be checking your phone for the time, but you did it anyway, leaving the watch to be just another accessory you donned. 

Right now, its utility made itself known. 8:00 am. “I have to be in office in an hour,” you informed him. “So I can’t stay long but….we can talk?” You mentally winced at how you ended what you had hoped to be a confident statement as a question. 

“I’d like that.”

The two of you made your way to a small table in the back, sitting opposite each other. You were grateful for the window on your left, which served as a good distraction from the man in front of you. Cars whizzed by on the busy NYC streets, painting the scene in a blur of reds and yellows against the grey concrete background. 

He tapped his fingers against the table periodically, the rhythm finally giving you the courage you needed to begin.

“You were right,” you said finally, desperately searching for the words to appropriately approach the topic at hand. “We do need to talk. I should have listened.”

“It’s okay, I should have approached it differently considering,” he paused, mulling over what he was about to say, not wanting to be insensitive but also not wanting to underplay the severity of what you felt. “Well, everything.” 

“It’s fine.”

Clearly, this was going nowhere and was getting increasingly more uncomfortable with every passing minute. You should have just let him leave instead of heeding to your intrusive thoughts and going after him, you should have watched him walk away and bit down your tongue in regret later on in the privacy of your room. 

It was as if he had sensed your trepidation and decided to put you out of your misery. “How are you?”

Small talk. Right. You could do that. 

“Good, good,” you had no idea why you said it twice. “Mostly just busy with work and you know, adulting. You?” 

“Pretty much the same, work.” He smiled softly at you, and you wondered how he somehow still made that feel like a reward for you, how something as simple as that could have a deceitful warmth bubbling in the pit of your stomach. “I have to get to the studio in a bit.”

“Studio?”

“I’m a music producer,” he clarified, and the conversation was almost too reminiscent of his date with Yeonmi, except a little more meaningful this time. A certain sense of shyness washed over him at telling you what he did for work, because although he was extremely proud of his job, your opinion of it mattered to him more than anyone else's ever could. 

“That's amazing! Do you like, get to meet famous people?” Your reaction was genuine, just as you had always been with him. You had once been the only person he thought believed in him. He could see the fraction of joy that sparked in your expression, truly happy on hearing this news.

He chuckled and nodded, “Yeah, I do. There are a couple of them I regularly work with.” It wasn’t in his nature to brag, but the starstruck look that appeared in your eyes made it worth it for once. 

“Wow,” you mumbled, fiddling with the straw in your drink. “I just work in HR.” Your life felt awfully boring in comparison to him, but then again, that was a feeling you had made your peace with a long time ago. He had always been the more interesting, more magnetic person from the two of you- or perhaps from everyone in general. A stranger could take a look at him and know that he was made to walk a path different and more vibrant than most. 

An awkward silence settled after that, only succeeding in increasing your anxiety levels. Pleasantries were over, so where the hell were you supposed to go from there?

“I didn’t know Yeonmi was your roommate,” he said quietly, not looking at you. “I’m sorry for the position I’ve put you in, I promise you it wasn’t intentional.”

“I never thought it was,” you assured him. “I didn’t think it was you she was talking about either. This is just some sort of freak coincidence, I guess.” You hesitated for a moment, before deciding to not overthink anything having to do with the situation. There were so many questions left unanswered that you had no qualms with getting right to the point now that you could. “I don’t even care actually, I just want to know one thing.” 

The flippancy in your voice almost made him wince. “Anything.”

“Why did you do it?” 

And suddenly, Donghyuck felt as if he was back as his teenage self, staring at you through his younger self's perspective. He had been so unforgivingly impulsive at that age, and selfishly so, unable to put himself in anyone else's shoes. Of course, he had felt guilty for what he had done, to the point where he felt sick in the days that followed, but he had done it to protect himself from having to deal with your reaction to the news. News that had, back then, ruptured the little world of bliss he had cultivated with you by his side. 

How could he have explained anything back then anyway? He had always hidden that part of his life from you, the constant instability and fleeting nature that it possessed. Putting it together made it sound like a bad excuse, and you definitely did not deserve that.

 But he wasn’t an avoidant teenager anymore, and neither were you. What you deserved was the whole truth and nothing but that, and so he steeled himself, glancing at the clock on the wall behind you. 8:15 am. He didn’t really have much time, but he was going to do his best.

“I spent most of my childhood moving around from place to place. I think the longest I stayed in a town was two years at most, and for the longest time, I resented my mother for that.”

This was something you had waited for all your life, or at least, that was how you felt, and now you were finally going to get the explanation you had spent years trying to put together for a fickle sense of closure. Here you were, finally getting what you had spent birthday wishes and pennies down fountains for since you were sixteen, hoping and praying that it would happen for your sake. Here you were, getting it from your first love.

It was three in the morning and though the caffeine from your coffee had long since worn off, you found yourself lying in your bed wide awake. It had been a few hours of tossing and turning underneath your sheets, trying to find a position comfortable enough to succumb to sleep but evidently, seeing that you were now staring at your ceiling in frustration, had been wholly unsuccessful.

You were going to need an extra large cup of coffee to curb your inevitable grumpiness the next morning. A sigh left your lips as you threw your covers off, sitting up in your bed and taking in your room in the darkness, hoping you would feel the heaviness set in on your eyelids. When that didn’t happen, you swung your legs over the side and landed on the wooden floors, slipping your feet into your house slippers and opening your door as quietly as possible.

A glass of water should put everything right and curb your restlessness. Your optimism was admirable, if not downright stupid. The cause of your current state was fairly obvious.

So there you were, now holding an empty glass. You had finished your water, and didn’t feel any better, not wanting to go back to bed in the slightest. 

Donghyuck rippled through your mind, and you shut your eyes, trying to block him out. The sight of those sad eyes of his as he explained what really happened all those years ago had been imprinted in your mind, and it had left you with nothing but contempt.

You despised the childish reasoning that consumed the entire explanation, the way it felt like everything that had happened and what you felt had been so trivial and completely avoidable if he had just spoken to you. Eight years, that was how long you had waited just for it to feel as if he had just rubbed salt in your wounds, and you hated every second of it.

What you hated most though, was the way you completely understood why he did it.

The more you thought about what he told you, you couldn’t help but empathise with him. Sure, you wouldn’t have done what he did if you were in his position, but that was the thing, wasn’t it? You had never been in his position, and it was clear that his younger years had been scattered all over the place.

How could he have known any better when he too was learning how to navigate his emotions at that age? He was a child and you couldn’t hold anything against a child now that you were an adult.

I’m sorry.

Suddenly, why those had been the last thing he ever said to you made sense. He knew what he was doing and did it anyway. The burn that you felt every time you thought about it hadn’t subsided.

Your younger self was angry at how things had turned out, pissed at being left in the dark even if you understood why. You wanted so badly to hate him for what he had done to you, but no matter how hard you tried to push yourself to do so, you just couldn’t. Instead, another emotion lied in the place you tried so hard to fill with hate, and it scared you even more.

He had hurt you to such a colossal extent, and yet that little flame inside of you refused to be put out, or even have the mercy to dim itself for your sake. It flickered back to life the moment you set eyes on him again and you knew this to be true by the effect he still had on you.

You never stopped loving Donghyuck. You only started hurting, and let the pessimistic degree of that feeling drown out everything else.

“I should have handled it better,” his frustration with himself was clear by the way he exhaled agitatedly. “I know I was a dick to you, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. If I could go back and do it all again, I’d do it very differently, but I can’t.” He sounded pained, his sorrow cutting deep into your freshly reopened wounds and making you realise that he had hurt himself in the process of doing what he did. 

While you had been painstakingly stitching yourself back together after him, he had been doing the same, reaping what he had sown in your garden. He was as old as you had been, and emotions are often magnified in the melodrama of youth.

It didn’t feel like that magnification had dulled out though, the regret potent in his voice, matching your emotional state. 

“But if there's anything I can do now….I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”

You were drowning, sinking rapidly below the surface as the waves thrashed around you, unrelenting and ruthless. You gripped the cup in your hands, a warm pressure building behind your eyes, making you feel even more miserable than you already were. The realisation of your present feelings overwhelmed you, and you crumbled against the counter, letting yourself lean against the cupboards as you settled on the floor.

He’d do anything for you. He said it himself.

So then…would he…?

A choked sound escaped your throat- something that sounded like a cross between a bitter laugh and a sob. You were deplorable, truly, for even letting the thought cross your mind, but god.

Would he end things with Yeonmi for your sake?

The topic of your roommate hadn’t been brought up during your chat, the two of you skirting around the topic for all you were worth. It felt like taboo, and although it was probably something worth mentioning, you were glad you hadn’t needed to deal with it just yet. You held so much love for Yeonmi, but right then she seemed like more of an obstacle than anything else. 

But if she knew the truth and Donghyuck and you, wouldn’t she think the same? She had done nothing wrong, so you were the problem here. You were the obstacle you had never signed up to be.

The question sat heavy upon your tongue, and you so desperately wanted to ask it.

You couldn’t do that to your friend, you would never. She hadn’t been this happy with someone since her sorry excuse of an ex broke her spirit, and you couldn’t bear to be the one to take that away from her. You couldn’t, even if it meant that it broke you, because goddamnit you were still irrevocably in love with Lee Donghyuck.

And all you wanted to do was hate him. 

viii] then.

Donghyuck’s room was much planer than yours, with just a clock hanging on one of its walls. A keyboard in one corner of the room and a guitar leaning against the side of his closet, you supposed that he hadn’t had much time to put too much thought into decorating just yet.

“You can put up posters of all those bands you keep talking about,” you suggested, running your fingers through his hair. You were sitting on his bed, leaning against the headboard with him lying in between your legs, looking up at you fondly 

Your boyfriend frowned lightly, “Too much effort.”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re just lazy. I can help you, you know. We could go print the posters after school.” Your enthusiasm was endearing, but he didn’t really see a point. Nevertheless, he didn’t have the heart to shoot your ideas down and nodded noncommittally, enjoying the feeling of you absent-mindedly massaging his scalp.

“Whatever you say, pretty girl,” he said lazily. A silence settled, and although it wasn’t uncomfortable by any means, he began humming a melody. 

You had heard him sing several times now, usually while he accompanied himself on guitar and his voice was just like the rest of him- captivating. It was gentle but still strong, his tone conveying the message and feel of any song he picked perfectly. He had once confessed that he would love to work in the music industry one day, no matter what the role was, but then brushed off the wish, saying that it was a shot in the dark. 

To counter this, you told him that if anyone could make it, it would be him. By no means did your words shake off his doubts or uncertainty, but you could tell that the faith you had in him helped him feel better. 

“What song is that?” You tilted your head, looking down at him. He shrugged. 

“It isn’t one, just a tune that came to me,” it was such a simple thing, and it still somehow earned him an impressed look from you, making him laugh. “It’s not a big deal.”

“You’re the coolest person I know.”

“You’re the dorkiest.”

“Hey! Dork-? Is this the shit I get for being nice to you?” You pouted, the offence heavily lacing your voice making him laugh, and to soothe your ruffled feathers, he dropped a chaste kiss to your lips. 

“A cute dork.” 

His mother was out, leaving the house empty save for the two of you. The privacy was nice, much better than your house for sure, where your mother was always hovering for some reason, even though you hadn’t told your parents about your new relationship just yet. She was overprotective, and while you were definitely going to tell them, you didn’t particularly want to deal with any outbursts just yet, wanting to savour the beginning of it all and keep that joy just for yourself.

As far as you knew, Donghyuck didn’t have a father, but he had never gotten into the details. He made sure to tell you that it wasn’t because it was hard to talk about, but because there wasn’t much to say about the man anyway, since he had never known him or even met him. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to fake annoyance to the best of your abilities, but you weren’t and never had been immune to the butterflies he managed to set free in your stomach with that kiss, a smile slowly forming on your face. Your hands moved to his face, cupping it gently as you leaned closer.

“Sweet talk won’t get you anywhere.”

“Yeah?” His eyes sparkled with mischief, “What will then?”

“A proper kiss maybe,” you mused, matching his playfulness. He immediately took you up on your proposal, smiling into the kiss. 

You were glad his mom wasn’t around.

Neither of you had ever kissed anyone before, but somehow he was still very good at it, a single touch of his igniting a pleasant buzz on the surface of your skin. Everything you knew about kissing came from books and movies, but you could only hope you had the same effect he had on you.

If you only knew. It had been a few weeks since the two of you had started dating, and he had memorised everything he could about you he possibly could- the shape of your mouth and the slope of your nose, the crinkles around your eyes when you laughed and the sound of it, he knew it all like the back of his hand. It wasn’t hard to be with you, it came to him like second nature, and part of him was convinced that everytime his mother had moved them from place to place, it was to bring him here to this moment. 

To be lying in your embrace, tangled in your arms and the gentle, loving kisses you pressed to his mouth and forehead- this was the definition of bliss, and everything about it was so utterly ignorant. 

“You taste like sour patch candies,” you muttered softly, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. You had quickly grown addicted to Donghyuck, deciding right then and there that you wouldn’t trade this for anything in the entire world. 

“Mhm, I was eating them before you came over.” 

You chuckled. “You, sir, have a problem.”

“Drama queen, you’re exaggerating a little too much. I only had a few.” 

“You had an entire packet, didn’t you? No wonder it's so noticeable.” The light wash of crimson that appeared on his cheeks at being caught gave him away.

“It can’t possibly be that noticeable.”

“It wouldn’t be if you didn’t consume copious amounts of that candy.”

He simply kissed you again in retaliation, a consequence you could definitely live with and had no complaints about whatsoever. “Shut up, you know you secretly like it.”

You never had the chance to argue with that one, once again silenced by his lips against yours. He was undoubtedly right about that accusation, for you liked it almost too much. You liked everything about him too much, and for the first time you understood the typical giddiness that was portrayed in every teen movie you watched growing up.

Every school day was something to look forward to now, making it possible to spend almost every day with him. You sat on desks next to each other, sometimes listening to music together and trying not to get caught talking to each other. The teachers had definitely picked up on the fact that there was something between the two of you, considering the amount of disproving looks you had gotten sent your way for laughing a little too loud at the jokes he would crack under his breath. 

Holidays were spent with you trying to finish all your homework as quickly as possible so you could hang out with him or Sakura and Chenle, making it so that every single day was bright and exciting from the moment you awoke. 

“You have no proof of that,” you pointed out, sitting up straighter to be able to kiss him better, savouring the way his arm immediately slid around your waistline. He smirked, his hand slipped just under your t-shirt but staying at your waist, fingers tracing abstract shapes upon the expanse of your skin.

“You’re still kissing me, aren’t you?”

The local playground was pretty deserted after eight on Sunday evenings, mothers having taken all their babies and toddlers back home for their nightly routine. Other highschool juniors or seniors didn’t really hang out there, opting to spend their time at the small skate park on the other end of town, which made it a perfect hangout spot for you and your friends.

Chenle slipped a cigarette pack out of the pocket of his designer hoodie, along with a bright red lighter. “Does anyone want one?”

Your reaction mirrored Sakura’s, who currently wore a frown. “Since when are you a smoker?”

“Johnny hyung taught me yesterday when he invited me to hang out with the seniors,” he filled you in, and you groaned, leaning into Donghyuck’s touch. He had an arm around your shoulders as the two of you occupied the bench swing, while Chenle and Sakura were sitting on the ends of the metal slides.

“Please don’t follow in his footsteps.” 

He lit one of the cigarettes, rolling his eyes. “Can you chill?”

“You do not have to smoke Chenle, you’re sixteen, not a wildly miserable forty year old  divorcee. You’re doing it just because you think it's cool and because Johnny does it.” Sakura shared your view of the senior, and as hospitable and lovely as he was, you didn’t particularly support his life choices.

“That is not true,” Chenle contested, and your other friend huffed. “Johnny is a great friend.”

You shook your head in disapproval. “He’s a bad influence.”

“He’s not! He’s really cool Y/n, I swear,” He waved his cigarette around, gesturing towards your boyfriend. “Right, Donghyuck?”

His admiration for the senior boy had only grown since the day of the party. To put it plainly, he thought the absolute world of the older boy, making an effort to spark a friendship. To say that he was overjoyed when Johnny started inviting him places was an understatement, if the excited call you got from him said anything. 

Donghyuck looked all too amused and nodded. “He is pretty cool.”

He got two scathing looks as a result, one from Sakura and an unimpressed stare from you, causing him to clear his throat, quickly following up. “But! That doesn’t mean you should follow his every move. You definitely shouldn’t smoke, smoking is bad.”

Now that he was back in your good graces, you kissed his cheek and looked at Chenle pointedly. “Please don’t end up like him.”

“I would love to end up like him.”

Jesus Christ. There was no saving him.

“With all the shit he pulls, he’s going to end up dead by twenty-five. Do you want to die?” He put the pack and lighter back in his pockets, brushing off Sakura’s grim statement. 

“One cigarette won’t kill me.” 

“Yes, but if you make smoking a habit and get addicted, it will eventually. Lung cancer is a thing, you know.” Your reminder was not taken kindly, and he groaned, taking a puff before dropping it to the ground and crushing it with his heel, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to smoke it in peace with you guys around anyway. 

“You are all so boring.” He whined, glaring at Donghyuck. “And you’re a hypocrite. Didn’t Johnny teach you how to smoke too?”

Having stayed a silent observer for most of this conversation, Donghyuck seemed to momentarily scramble for his words. “Only at the party, I haven’t smoked anything since then and I don’t intend to do it casually. It was a one time thing, and it was almost two months ago.”

“Remind me to only ever smoke at Yuta hyung’s place, because you guys are too annoying.”

Sakura perked up where she was sitting, blinking rapidly. “Nakamoto Yuta?”

He nodded, smiling almost evilly at her. “Yeah, I hang out with your crush more than you do. Maybe if you didn’t have such a stick up your ass, he’d invite you too.”

“Ugh, I hope you do die.” 

She had gained quite the infatuation with Yuta, having flirted with him at the party and hung out with him for quite a bit of the night. All her confidence to do so had come from the alcohol though, because she ran in the opposite direction of him at school, too nervous to go up to him and strike conversation so casually. 

You snuggled closer to Donghyuck, the evening air taking a turn for chilly. You loved having him around and was overjoyed at how well he fit into your little group, getting along with them as if they were his best friends as well. Being with him was effortless, just how it should be. 

“You should at least try talking to him,” you suggested, “If you don’t try, how do you know he’s just going to reject you? Didn’t he spend almost the entire party with you?”

“Easy for you to say,” she scowled, but you knew she meant no ill will and was simply joking. “You got the guy from like, the moment you met him.” Her words had you bite back a bashful smile. 

“That's true,” Donghyuck quipped almost proudly, rubbing your shoulder and dropping a kiss to your temple. He noticed the way you had tucked your hands under your legs. “Are you cold? Do you want my jacket?”

“Don’t you need it?”

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured you, taking it off and draping it over your shoulders, and resuming his previous position of having his arm around them. Sakura and Chenle simultaneously pretended to gag.

“The two of you are disgustingly adorable.” She complained, and Chenle agreed.

“Yeah, you make me feel so single I want to smoke.” 

The sound of Sakura hitting his arm at that comment resounded through the empty park, making you laugh. You hadn’t realised how bland your life had been before this year because now it was like the colours were brighter and much more vibrant than before, so much more interesting. This was how highschool was supposed to be, you thought to yourself as you slid your arms into the sleeves of his jacket, simple and rosy tinted, without a single worry in the world. 

ix] now.

This was the tenth time Donghyuck was listening to the track.

He paused it and dragged it back to the start, playing the song once again. Something about it was off, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it just yet, subjecting himself to analyse it over and over as a result. 

He shut his eyes, trying to absorb the song and search for what was not clicking for him, letting himself be consumed by the music. The melody washed over him, the powerful vocals and enticing beat soaking into his system. In his expert opinion, it was one step away from being a hit on the charts. He just had to figure out what step he had to take in order to achieve that.

Usually, he would stay and work on it until he managed to come to a solution, but for some reason all he wanted to do was go home today. He wasn’t focused on his work, as much as he loved music and what he did, for some reason today he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Maybe the thing that was off with the song was his demeanour at that moment. For all he knew, when he felt better and more motivated to work on it, it might sound ready to put out into the world without him having to change a single thing.

Donghyuck needed to clear his head. He pushed himself away from his desk and stretched his legs, walking to one of the windows of the studio and peering outside. 

He loved the studio, he practically lived there half of the time, sleeping on the sofa when he stayed too late or was too tired to drive home amidst a project. Every instrument inside was precious to him, every piece of equipment important. It was filled with happy memories for him, with artists waltzing in and out of his space and entrusting him with their life’s work. Their vision collided with his artistic view, and even though his name wasn’t bedazzled in the lights and he wasn’t directly in the limelight, he had somewhat managed to make a name for himself in the industry he had always loved.

The studio was more his home than his apartment, so then why did he so want to go back to the latter at the moment?

Looking out into the streets of New York, it hit him.

It wasn’t his apartment he was yearning for, per se, but more so the idea of home. It was something he had struggled with coming to terms with for the longest time, having never stayed anywhere long enough to consider home throughout his formative years. As a default, home had never taken the form of a place or a house on a particularly named street, but instead had always been a person. 

During his childhood, it had been his mother, for she was the only truly constant thing in his life back then. As his teenage years rolled around, even she started to feel alien to him. He began perceiving her as less of a home and more of the reason he didn’t have one. 

And then there was another person who became his home, and she came in the form of you. You were his age and much more relatable, it was much easier to place all his hope and trust in you, especially when just being around you made him forget about all his problems. When he was with you, his life seemed to lose that intense sense of instability that always kept him on edge. 

You somehow stabilised him, but he lost that stability in less than a year. In an attempt to reconcile with his guilt, he began punishing himself by changing his number and cutting you off completely, telling himself that it would help you as well. Once again, he was without a home, and his relationship with his mother was further strained. 

At eighteen, he moved out to New York. 

New York was his home now, the place he had stayed for the longest time. It was a place finally, somewhere he could point out with his finger and proudly say he lived in. He finished up his education, going to college and teaching himself music production on the side. He worked two part time jobs and enrolled himself in production classes. 

It was hard being all alone in a city as big as New York, in an unfamiliar and cold place. The loneliness hit him hard, and that led him to calling his mother. After a year in the city, working and studying hard, he finally understood why she had done what she did while he was growing up and appreciated her for it.

He had his big break at twenty-two while working under a small record label. The song he had worked on as a producer went number one on the billboard charts, rocketing the singer from an unknown person to a household name and right under theirs, was his.

He was being praised by critics for his experimental style and the little things in the production that made the song what it was. Suddenly, he was in demand and made real, good money- amounts that he had never seen in his life. He sent half of it to his mother and could now visit her as many times in the year as he so pleased. 

Every sacrifice was worth it. It had gotten to where he was standing and made him who he was. 

But you being in his home now?

That made him question it. You displaced him.

New York had only started to properly feel like home when he had made it big, the big scary city not seeming so scary anymore. He finally felt like he belonged somewhere after years of lacking that. 

The only time he had ever belonged to someone was when he had been with you. 

When he left your town, he had left a piece of his heart behind with you, just as he had taken a piece of yours with him. He had never gotten it back, searching for it- something, someone perhaps- in the faces of strangers. 

He had put all his faith in finding that in Yeonmi, a woman who reminded him of you, only to find out that she was simply influenced. He was stuck, frozen in place by a choice that seemed impossible to make. Whatever course of action he took, any option he picked, it always seemed to make him the bad guy. He couldn’t just drop her for you because things were too complicated for that, and it would in turn make you the bad guy as well, but he couldn’t keep on feeling this way while being with someone else.

Home. Donghyuck knew right then that he wasn’t yearning for his apartment, or the city itself. He was yearning for you.

Donghyuck wanted you there in his studio, in his apartment- just with him maybe would be enough. Not just wandering and brushing shoulders in the vast city that you called home as well, but by his side constantly, to once again be the home that grounded him.

The realisation washed over him, but it didn’t come as a total surprise. Part of him had always known that you were it for him, especially when he saw you for the first time again that night he dropped a drunk Yeonmi home to you. The reason he couldn’t focus was you, how badly he wanted to run back to you and ignore all the complications that came with it, right back into the arms that were his true home. 

Occasionally, you would think about Sakura and Chenle. 

You had long since lost contact with your highschool best friends, inevitably drifting apart from them with the course of time. Once university began, even managing to text each other turned into a chore, and the only times you saw each other or hung out was during the summer when you went back home. Once you moved to New York and started going home less, those few moments turned into nothing at all.

Nevertheless, you hadn’t forgotten about them. They had been your constants for so long, people you trusted with all your heart and soul, always running out of your house to meet them. You fondly recalled all the late night calls and sneaking out and sleepovers, complaining about examinations and school together, and spending your summers with iced teas and hanging out at the local diner. From drinking sprite to sneaking alcohol, a lot of your firsts have happened with them. 

They held you together when Donghyuck left. They picked up the shattered pieces, sticking them back together the best they could with the resources they had. They were the ones that got you to smile again and eventually forget about him long enough to forget that you were trying to. 

Even though you haven’t spoken to them in years, you still thought about them. You would never stop being grateful. 

You also wondered how they would react if they knew what your life had come to. 

The coffee you had ordered this time was hot, and you cupped the mug, letting the warmth of the drink seep through the ceramic and to your fingers. You were in what had become your regular booth in the cafe, and across from you sat none other than Donghyuck himself. 

Ever since that day, an unspoken sort of agreement to at least be friends had passed between the two of you- a truce of sorts. It was only logical, considering he was technically with Yeonmi, and it meant that you would have to learn how to put everything aside for that. Oddly enough though, you never talked about your roommate, and he didn’t make an effort to bring her up either. 

Sakura would have glared at you in disbelief. Chenle would be laughing his ass off in some corner.

Meeting at the cafe had turned into a ritual of sorts. You would meet him there every Tuesday before work and both of you would chat and have your drinks before parting ways. Admittedly, you had started looking forward to these little rendezvous with him, they somehow managed to make your entire week. 

Really, you shouldn’t have been surprised at this. Donghyuck had always had that effect on you and clearly nothing had changed. He still made you laugh more than anyone else and left you with that warm, fuzzy feeling that made you think that anything was possible. 

Yeonmi did not know about these meetings. 

You had never mentioned them to her even once, and you were willing to bet that Donghyuck hadn’t either. He seemed to avoid talking about her entirely, and it seemed that he hadn’t been talking to her very much either, since your roommate had worriedly mentioned his lack of communication this past few weeks.

“He still talks to me,” she explained, eyes knit together in worry. “But not as much, you know? I can’t help but wonder if something is wrong.”

“I’m sure everything is fine.” You assured her when you were not, in fact, sure. You didn’t have the courage to ask about it anyway, and selfishly enough you didn’t particularly want to spend any of the little time you got with him talking about her.

You abhorred the way you had subconsciously turned against your friend, but it was fine because you had it under control. You could never do anything to hurt her, this was completely innocent. The two of you were just talking.

“You’ve met Lee Jieun?!” You exclaimed, eyes wide in awe. He held back a laugh at the starstruck look on your face, nodding as he stirred the sugar into his coffee. 

“Yeah, she’s very sweet and extremely talented. Worked on a few tracks on her last album.”

“I bought that album,” you said, putting your mug down and clasping your hands together. “I’ve been saving up for tickets to her concert.”

His lips twitched in amusement. “I can get you some if you’d like.”

Mouth falling open, you stared at him in shock, no words leaving your lips for ten seconds straight. “If I’d like?? I would love that, my god. I’ve been a fan for four years now and she’s always my top artist on spotify every year during spotify wrapped. My most listened to song is also always hers and she’s just so-”

You faltered when you glanced at him and noticed the doting expression he wore while looking at you- the sides of his lips were just slightly upturned, eyes following your movements keenly and hanging onto every word. It had heat rise up to your face and made you self-conscious because goddamnit, that was the exact way he would look at you when you were together. 

Fuck.

Your throat felt dry, and you swallowed hard, averting your eyes as you felt your cheeks burn. “I’m rambling,” you mumbled, fiddling with the teaspoon on the little place your cup sat in. “Sorry, I talk too much. I’ll shut up.”

“Don’t,” he immediately said, “I like hearing you talk.”

You blinked.

God. He really hadn’t changed at all, had he?

“R-right, uh, I just really, really love her music.” Everything about the moment threw you off. The way he was able to so skillfully grab you and plunge you back into the past you had tried so hard to run away from was jarring. It wasn’t even something that slowly crept up on you, instead clutching you by the collar and throwing you straight into it, right back into your sixteen-year-old self’s shoes. 

“I can tell. I’ll do my best with those tickets.” His promise almost flew over your head entirely and you forced a smile, staring down at your coffee awkwardly.  He still liked hearing you talk and your loquacious nature. Some things stayed the same no matter the course of time.

You let yourself wonder if he felt the same way about you as well, but just for a second. 

There was no way you could let yourself get away with thinking about it anymore because it would strip you of any dignity you had left. Your feelings for him had only grown dormant over the years and were now being awoken from their hibernation with every minute more you spent in his invigorating presence. It was unrealistic and childish to think that he felt the same way anymore.

The lack of any mention of Yeonmi, the way he seemed to be talking to you more lately and going so far as to meet with you on a weekly basis, well, the signs were definitely there, weren’t they? You were well aware of how much of an asshole move this was from both your ends towards your oblivious roommate, but as much as you tried to, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It was terrible, but there was nothing happening. You were allowed to enjoy these fleeting moments that when boiled down to it, meant nothing at all.

But as he smiled at your excited demeanour, looking at you like you were everything he could ever want, you couldn’t help but wish that it did.

Yeonmi stood in front of the ice cream display, scanning all the different flavours at her disposal. You stood by her side, already digging into your own ice cream and waiting patiently for her to be done.

“You’ve already chosen what you want,” you pointed out. “Do you want a second cup or something?”

She shook her head. “Not for me, for Donghyuck. I’m going to meet him later on and since he likes sweet stuff I thought I’d get him a tub.” 

You paused your movements. Their meetings had grown sparse from what you had heard from her, with her having to plan most of them and him simply agreeing. It killed you a little on the inside, filling you with guilt at the suspicion that you had something to do with it.

The earnest lilt in her voice, her eagerness to please him- it reminded you so much of yourself. You disliked the way he was treating her, but you also found a sense of relief in it, and when you acknowledged that, you officially accepted that you were probably the worst friend in the universe.

“Have you chosen what you would like yet?” The teenager behind the counter asked impatiently. She looked like she would have rather been anywhere else in the world, but she was probably a highschooler who wanted some extra cash and this was the best she had gotten.

“No, sorry,” your roommate said dejectedly. “I’m not sure what he’d like.” 

Deciding to put her out of her misery, you spoke up. “Can we get a tub of cookies and cream?” The girl nodded, boredly taking one of the tubs out of the freezer and sliding it across the counter, calling out its price. Yeonmi flashed you a confused look and fumbled with her purse for a few seconds, taking out a few dollar bills and handing it over. 

The two of you walked out of the ice cream store, and she doubtfully looked at the tub. “What if he doesn’t like this?”

“He likes cookies and cream ice cream.”

“How would you know?”

You stopped walking and glanced at her, quickly realising you had slipped up. You tried not to take offence at the defensive nature of her tone, knowing that she had every right to be that way. She was technically his girlfriend, she should have been the one to know what flavour he would want. 

So you bit down hard on your tongue when the urge to tell her that you knew him better than she ever could sprung to its tip. You were bitter at having to let that go, your ego bruising from the fact that you weren’t entitled to the position of being the one who knew him so well, even though you had everything for it.

“He told me.” You said weakly, dropping your now empty cup into one of the bins on the sidewalk.

“When?”

Eight years ago. That was the truth, but you knew very well that you couldn’t possibly tell her that after pretending you had never met him before. The edge that her voice possessed right then put you off, but you brushed it to the side, knowing deep down that she had the right. “That one movie night we had.”

She frowned. “I don’t remember talking about ice cream at all.” 

“You fell asleep, remember? We spoke about it after that, just before he left.” The lie tasted sour, but not the pleasant kind of sour that is followed by a sweetness like a sour patch candy. This type of sour was persisting, the type that tainted your mouth from just its feel, spreading to your lips and the back of your neck.

“Oh.” She sounded hollow, letting the arm that held the bag containing the tub of ice cream fall limply to her side. “Okay.”

“You can tell him you picked it out.” 

You knew he wouldn't believe it anyway. “Okay,” She repeated, but you could tell how miserably she truly was. Resentment filled you, but just as quickly so did pity, replacing the former in the blink of an eye.

She had finally moved on from her sorry excuse of an ex and found happiness in another man, only for him to suddenly pull away right when she was ready to give it her all. You understood that more than anyone ever could, but in a completely different sense. To her, Donghyuck was emotionally absent now. For you, he had been wholly absent, snatched away and out of your reach for so long.

Yeonmi still had the chance to hold him, if he let her. You never had that.

And then your pity for her was replaced by anger.

Donghyuck had no right to run her around in circles like he was doing. You wanted to yell at him, tell him to make a decision on whether he wanted her or not.

You didn’t want to know the answer though, because the chances of it breaking your heart were high, and you didn’t think you’d be able to handle another heartbreak at his hands. It could also remove him from your life once again, and you’d continue to be haunted, just by new memories this time around. 

And just like that, you understood why he couldn’t make a decision so easily, because you couldn’t either. You wanted nothing more than for him to choose you, but it was the very last thing you would ask for, reluctant and afraid to hurt someone else in the process of healing your very own innate brokennes.

So you walked with Yeonmi back to your shared apartment and talked about insignificant things to take her mind off it all, trying to do the same for yourself. 

x] then.

When a storm is coming, you can almost always tell.

It may not look like it, but intuition works in mysterious ways. That sinking feeling that stirs deep within your gut, discomfort flooding your system slowly and warning you of something bad to come. You try your best to ignore it, to pretend as if you’re overthinking and going crazy and that everything is fine. You revel in ignorant bliss and sunny days, growing all too comfortable with the stability of the everyday life you have grown accustomed to. You let yourself believe that the calm before a storm is permanent.

Donghyuck knew something was wrong the moment he walked into his house that fateful November evening, four whole months since he had first stepped foot inside it when they first moved in. He had learned the pattern of the switches, he knew the layout of the house by heart. 

His mother sat on the dining table, her face buried in her hands. Usually, he would walk upstairs to his room and not bother, but this time something made him stop.

“Mom?”

She looked up at him, and he noticed just how exhausted she looked. His mother was a beautiful woman, but time had worn her down just like it did to everyone, and all the stress she was under had caused some of her black hair to turn grey. Wrinkles showed on her palms, her laugh lines had grown deeper. 

“Donghyuck,” she said his name with a heavy sigh. “Come. Sit.”

On most days he had an excuse to avoid this, saying that he had homework or a project to work on, but today he complied, taking a seat next to his mother. 

“How was school today?”

“Good,” he answered. She gave him an encouraging smile that was clearly forced for his sake, and clasped her hands together.

“Good, good.”

“Is….is that it?” He asked gently, suddenly not wanting to be there. It was like his body was trying to get him out of the situation, knowing something was off before his brain did. Unfortunately, some things were unavoidable and inevitable, and just like that the clouds began to darken.

She shook her head, “No, there’s something I need to talk to you about” She reached out and grabbed his hand that was on the table, squeezing it hard. “It’s important, okay?”

He nodded slowly, now trapped within the conversation with no escape. His mother exhaled and shut her eyes, dropping her head in what seemed like defeat. “I’ve been offered a job.”

“A job?”

“Yes- with a much better salary. Of course, I’m beyond blessed with the amount I get now but we’d be more comfortable, it’s a better opportunity.” She rubbed the hand of his that she held soothingly, as if trying to soften the blow she was about to give. 

The waves gradually grew more turbulent, slow but definite. It was clear that she was trying to approach whatever she was trying to say with as much tact as possible, but was only succeeding in frustrating the boy with her vagueness. 

“Just spit it out, Mom. What's happening?”

“We’re moving, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck sat there, stunned into a silence at what his mother had just said. Finally, she was done beating around the bushes like he had wanted, but now he wished he had let her take her time. It almost didn’t even feel real to hear, the true weightage of her words not quite registering just yet.

“What?”

His voice was devoid of any emotion, falling flat and harshly against the gentle, apologetic facade that his mother upheld. “In a few months, I know that it’s hard to hear and I’m sorry I have to uproot your life once again but I promise it’ll all be worth it I just-” She shakily exhaled, as if trying to expel all the fatigue she had accumulated over the years of switching out jobs and moving around in an attempt to create a better life for her only son. “I promise I’ll try and make this bearable and it’ll be the last time.”

If she had the choice, she would never have chosen such a turbulent lifestyle. After all, who would ever want to thrust their child into such an unstable environment- it being unstable due to its ever changing nature? But being a single mother was difficult and she had to do whatever she had to in order to survive.

The ship that Donghyuck stood upon began to rock as the storm intensified. 

“It’s been less than a year,” He said icily. “Five months.”

“We’re not moving immediately. I have to finish up some work here and get everything together before we leave. Three months.” She rushed to assure him of this as if it fixed anything.

“So eight months. That’s still less than a year, Mom.”

“I know sweetheart, I’m so sorry.

Sympathy filled her expression and she squeezed his hand, trying to convey that she understood his frustration. That notion was perfectly ridiculous sounding to Donghyuck, how could she even begin to think that she understood how he would be feeling? If she did, then why was she once again ruining his life?

If she was really so sorry, she wouldn’t be doing this in the first place. He clenched his jaw, looking away from his mother and around the living room he had finally grown familiar with. Every other time this had happened he had always grinned and bore with it because there never seemed like a reason to fight back. He had grown complacent and used to the cycle, expecting it almost.

But this time he had prayed it wouldn’t be the same. This time, he had grown attached to the dusty streets of the town and the long school days. He had a favourite store, more friends than he had ever had in his life and more importantly, a favourite person. This time, it wouldn’t just be him leaving behind a bunch of acquaintances, it would mean him having to leave you behind as well. 

He couldn’t bear the thought of that, his fury welling up and coming to the surface. For once in his life he had someone he wanted to stay for.

“If you’re so sorry,” he said, voice low and enraged all the same, “You won’t do this again.”

Her eyes softened, “I have to. I won’t ask you to understand, but-” 

“I hate you.”

The moment he said it, he could see his mothers countenance crumble, but the sympathy in it only increased. No parent ever wanted to hear their child say those words to them and he knew that in his heart, he didn’t truly mean them, but he was just so indescribably angry with her and the world for constantly doing this to him. 

It was cruel for him to say it without any hesitation, that much was certain the moment he saw tears well up in her eyes. She was a strong woman, refusing to let them escape and fall down her weary face for his sake, and he couldn’t take the sight of it any longer. Aggressively, he pushed his chair back and stormed off, bounding up the stairs of the house that would no longer be his with his heart hammering in his chest.

It was only in the comfort of his room that he let himself let out the sob that had been choking him up as he crumpled near the foot of his bed, a heavy sense of loss already passing through him. His eyes drifted to one of the walls of his room.

He had never put much thought into decorating, but there on it were three posters you had managed to convince him to put up with you, insisting that they livened the place up a little. He would have to tear them down now, just like everything else in his erratic, volatile life. Every other time was easier because there had been no bonds to sever in the process. He had let himself foolishly trust that his continued resilience was all for the happiness he had ultimately found now.

Perhaps this was why he had been so reluctant to let you help him decorate his room. Subconsciously, he had known that it would all be for naught when the nature of his life caught back up to him. Somehow he had already known that this was never meant to be anything more than temporary.

The waves capsized his ship and down Donghyuck went, sinking beneath the surface of the storm and below the storming sea, drowning in his sorrow.

You sat in the driver's seat of your father’s car, legs propped up on the seat with your cardboard container of fries balancing on your knees. Donghyuck occupied the passenger's seat, biting into his burger.

The both of you were parked in the local diners parking lot in the late evening after school. Donghyuck had said something about not feeling like going straight home, and since you had driven to school that day, you suggested taking a detour and hanging out for a little. 

“I was thinking,” you started, picking out a fry and biting into it, glancing sideways at the boy who owned all of your teenage affections. 

“Hmm?”

“I wanna tell my parents,” you declared finally, finishing the fry. He blinked, lowering his burger and looking at you pointedly. “About us.”

“All of a sudden? Why?” His mystification was justified since ever since the two of you had begun dating, you had been adamant on trying to hide it from them. It hadn’t been the intent initially, you simply were procrastinating their reaction- not that it would be a bad one- and as time went on, it got easier to put off. That being said, it also got harder to hide.

You shrugged, shifting in the car seat and reaching out to adjust the volume of the radio. “I just think it’s time, you know? I’ve been putting it off long enough and I want them to know about you. The smile that crept up on your face when you said that was enough to have a pit form at the bottom of his stomach.

Guilt is an ugly emotion. It manifests slowly, digging into your insides as it grows in its magnitude until it's up to your throat, depriving you of air and choking you. 

Needless to say, you weren’t the only one putting off telling someone the truth.

Avoidance wasn’t something that was inherently built into his nature, but it came into play almost naturally now. He had managed to evade being around his mother as much as possible over the past week or so, ever since she had dropped the news that completely displaced his entire world. Similarly, he had been avoiding bringing up what was happening to you, telling himself that he still had some time

But the truth was, saying out loud and admitting it all to you was just too much for him. It made it feel real and not like some terrible nightmare he had been living for the past few days. He didn’t want the reality of it all to hit him just yet.

“Do you have to?”

“Kind of?” You raised an eyebrow at him in question. “We’ve been dating for almost three months now Hyuck, do you expect me to just keep it from them forever?”

He winced internally, beating himself up about how you were talking about your relationship with him. It felt wrong to let you naively talk about a supposed forever when he knew that simply wasn’t going to be the case.

Your forever was going to be quickly cut short. 

“Of course not,” he mumbled, sighing softly. “I don’t know. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

You frowned slightly, turning the volume down and putting your fries on the dashboard, giving him all your attention. “Hey, is something wrong?”

Everything was wrong. He wanted to laugh, mostly because the only other option he had was to cry and he couldn’t do that without having to expose it all. Instead though, he shook his head as nonchalantly as he possibly could, refusing to meet your eyes and instead staring at his burger. “Nope.”

You scoffed. “Oh yeah, that was definitely believable. Come on, tell me what's wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You said you didn’t feel like going home today. Is it something to do with that?”

You were too smart for your own good. He rolled his eyes, attempting to remain lighthearted, “What if that just meant I wanted to spend more time with you?”

“Weird fucking way of putting it, then. You could have just said you wanted to hang out.”

He put his burger on the dashboard as well and turned to you, holding your gaze firmly in the hopes that it would thwart your suspicions by appearing to be sincere. “Y/n,” he said your name steadily, a slight smile playing upon his lips that from the outside looked effortless, when in reality it was the most forced he had ever been. “Nothing is wrong. Drop it.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, realising that whatever it was, he clearly wasn’t in the mood to talk about it. You could respect that.  “Alright, I’ll back off.” You raised your hands to the sides of your face to mimic surrendering and earning an amused look from his end in the process. 

It scared him a little bit, how you seemed to be able to look right through him without even knowing the full extent of what he was going through. He had known you for so little time- too little almost- and yet you knew him better than anyone else. 

Leaving you behind was going to be the thing that hurt the most.

He leaned over and kissed you gently. “Thank you. And you’re right, you should tell your parents.” Your trusting countenance clawed at him, only worsening the sickening feeling of culpability that swirled in his gut. Maybe he’d tell you tomorrow, or the week after. Maybe he’d wait for another month so that he could gather his wits first.

If you doubted his confident facade, you didn’t let it show.

“Hey Donghyuck?”

“Hm?”

“I think I love you.”

Five little words should be entirely inconsequential, but even as young as he was, Donghyuck knew their true weightage. He knew you meant it by the credulousness in your gaze and the gentle squeeze of your hand on his. 

The two of you were sitting on the roof outside your room's window, you clad in sweats and his jacket- the very same one he had given you weeks ago at the playground. You had never given it back to him. He was in casual clothing as well, having sneaked onto your room during the early hours of the morning to hang out with you.

Time with you seemed to be fleeting now, and so he clung onto every minute he got. You had your head resting on his shoulder as the sun began peeking over the town and spilling its golden rays all over the little houses and buildings, lighting them up and bringing vibrancy to the town. 

Love was a complex emotion, a haphazard mishmash of several others in proportions that were unique to every occurrence it manifested itself in. Trust, admiration, infatuation and many more- they made up the feeling that everyone on the planet supposedly sought after so desperately. If it was truly so unpredictable, how did anyone know what it felt to be in love?

He sucked in a breath as seconds passed. Then, he squeezed your hand back.

“I love you too.”

xi] now.

Yeonmi was a great friend, ever ready to show her endless support for you in all your endeavours. 

“Smile! And for god's sake, get a drink and lighten up. It’s all your friends here.” She slid her index finger under the strap of your dress, lifting up to its correct position on your shoulder. 

You sighed and complied, flashing a smile for her sake, promising to make your way to the kitchen and do as she asked. She inspected your eye makeup one last time, pleased with how her handiwork had turned out and left your room, reminding you to hurry up and get out there. 

You had gotten a promotion at work a week ago, and when you had revealed the news to her she insisted that you celebrate properly for the occasion, taking it upon herself to organise a small party at your apartment. She invited some of your friends from work and a few mutual friends of yours- not too many people in all, but since your apartment wasn’t the biggest, it was already starting to feel a little cramped.

Pulling yourself together, you left the confines of your room, finding yourself humming along to the music that she was playing. The dress you had donned was definitely not as short as the ones you had insisted on wearing during your highschool years, having opted to go for a more respectful length now that you were older, but it made you feel pretty and put-together.

Among the familiar smiles and toned down congratulations that you received, you found your eyes wandering until they met another pair that was already trained on you.

Donghyuck was there, of course he was. Yeonmi had already told you that she had asked him to attend and you had been expecting his presence.

So why then did you feel your heartbeat pick up a little, as if it had come as a surprise?

You looked away

A slow hour passed.

In your teenage years, parties had been something you had always enjoyed partaking in, but right then you felt a tad uncomfortable. You quickly deduced that this was because all those times, you had just been another partygoer, lost among the rest of the drunken crowd. Here, you were the subject of the party, the centre of attention. 

People came up to congratulate you and make small talk. It struck you then, just how different your life was now from what it was back then. You were older in a different city, surrounded by people who had nothing to do with what felt like your previous life. Your old best friends, people you had thought would stick by you to the very end were not there, you were far away from your parents and were no longer a child that depended on them for everything. You had an apartment you called your own that you shared with your roommate. 

The only thing- person- that had somehow belonged to both your youth and adulthood was Donghyuck.

Flushed with the alcohol that you had consumed, you excused yourself from the umpteenth conversation you'd been dragged into with some of your colleagues and made your way to the kitchen, wine glass in hand. Shutting the doors behind you, you revelled in the momentary silence. 

You noticed the bottle of wine sitting on the counter and looked at your empty glass. Being the focal point of everyone's attention had never been something you particularly enjoyed and so to ease the bubbling anxiety inside of you, you walked over and poured yourself another, swirling it around and taking a good, long sip. 

The sweet wine trickled down your throat, kissing it soothingly with its tart berry flavours. You were no doubt tipsy at this point, having subconsciously fallen back upon the alcohol to support you through all the socialising. You truly wished Yeonmi hadn’t been so insistent on this stupid thing, you would have been more than happy to celebrate by going out to dinner, just the two of you.

“Oh! You’re here too.”

You spun around, clutching the stem of your wine glass a little tighter and automatically leaning your back against the counter when you felt your balance slip away from you a little. Donghyuck shut the door, hesitating.

“Am…Am I intruding?”

He totally was intruding on your solitude, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when it came to him, thus shaking your head ‘no’. “Not at all, I just needed a moment.”

“I can leave if you’d like.”

“Don’t.” And you meant it. You didn’t want him to leave and he was the only one you would willingly tolerate at that moment. He flicked the lock of the door, sealing it shut to the rest of your guests and walked over to you with his own glass. You handed him the bottle of wine.

He nodded in silent thanks. “Congratulations on your promotion, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you took a small sip of your wine, looking at him and allowing yourself to study his matured features. There was not a thing about him that didn’t explicitly shine, a being so enigmatic and beautiful that it had you in awe of him even eight years later. “Not that it’s anything exciting like your job. I just sit in a nicer office now.”

He chuckled softly. “It’s still pretty cool, you’re still pretty young for your own office, aren’t you?”

You nodded bashfully. Even though you tried to remain as modest as possible when it came to the good news, you were quite proud of yourself. “Yeah, I didn’t think I’d get so far so quickly out of college.”

Donghyuck shuffled a little closer until he was right next to you. The urge to lean into him sprung up out of nowhere, the little voice in your head telling you to do so abruptly growing stronger. You drank the rest of your wine in an attempt to drown it out, only succeeding in doing the complete opposite.

God, he smelled amazing. You could get hints of the cologne he had on, a musky scent that had hints of something citrusy in the mix- thoroughly dizzying to you. You despised how much control he had over you without even knowing it.

“I had to repeat my senior year of highschool.”

His words snapped you out of your self-induced reverie, and you cocked your head to the side in question, prompting him to continue. As of late, your little coffee dates (your mind had defaulted to calling them that, even though you knew you shouldn’t), he had begun sharing bits and pieces of his life, and you had started doing the same. However, this was quite out of the blue, piquing your curiosity.

“After we moved,” he clarified, uncertainty creeping into his voice as if he was afraid of how you would react. “I almost flunked the eleventh grade finals in my new school and barely made it to the twelfth, and then that began, I barely attended, bunking almost all my classes to hang out with this group I had somehow managed to fall into.”

He sounded regretful as he spoke and you didn’t dare interrupt. You had often speculated what he was doing after he left, while you mourned the loss of your love, you had spent countless sleepless nights tossing and turning, wondering if he was thinking about you as well.

“They were terrible influences, but at the time I couldn’t bring myself to care. I was never in class, always at one of their garages with some sort of alcohol. A lot of that year was a blur, with me being drunk almost every day. I’d leave the house in the morning and say I was going to school and take a detour. My grades fell but I never paid attention to it because of how unhappy I was.”

Your eyes stung with emotion for him, because although you had resented him so much, he was still only a kid back then. Pairing this new information with what he had told you about his flighty childhood, you couldn’t even imagine the sheer level of frustration he must have experienced with having to adapt to yet another place.

“By the end of the year, my attendance was so terrible that they couldn’t let me write the finals, nor could they let me graduate, leaving me with the option to drop out. My mother was in tears and we fought a lot when I told her about it. At first I was fine with just dropping out and giving up, but she said something that made me rethink that.”

“What did she say?” You whispered, your heart feeling as if it was in your throat. You hadn’t even realised you had moved in position, now even closer and directly in front of him.

He sighed heavily. “She told me she didn’t want me to end up like her. She wanted me to live without having to uproot every year or so, and the only way I could do that is if I didn’t give up. And that got me thinking about everything.”

His glass was empty now. “I realised I didn’t like my so-called friends, I hated what I had become and I didn’t want to continue living the way I had for so long. I thought long and hard about what my mother said and then…then I thought about you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you held his gaze, searching his face for answers before he presented them to you. 

“Me?”

He reached out, his fingers oh-so-carefully brushing against the skin of your cheek, dragging back slowly and tucking a strand of hair that had fallen into your face behind your ear, lingering there. 

“Yes, you.” A wistful smile made a show on his face. “I thought about how my mother said she wanted me to graduate and push forward so I wouldn’t live the same life she created for us, and how if she had done the same thing she was begging of me, maybe-” His voice cracked, causing a jolt down your spine and your sight to blur slightly with the emergence of tears, but they didn’t fall just yet.

“-Maybe I wouldn’t have had to leave you.”

Fuck.

A single tear trickled down the apples of your cheeks, and the moment it did, his thumb wiped it away gently. 

“So I agreed to the second option, which was having to repeat my senior year. I attended every class that I could, I studied and worked hard for every test. I graduated late, but I managed to do it, and then I moved to New York just before I turned nineteen.”

“Donghyuck…” you trailed off, not knowing what to say.  It was clear to you now that he had to grow up a lot earlier than you had, even if it hadn’t seemed that way at first. You had a good family life and a stable, comfortable childhood. You were allowed to figure it out slowly, never being exposed to any sort of extreme turbulence that shook your world so deeply other than his leaving- and you had support through that as well in the form of your friends. Donghyuck had none of that, left all alone.

“All I wanted to say was that without you, I wouldn’t be where I am.”

“Don’t do that,” you said almost sorrowfully, “You did it yourself. I just happened to be a part of it for a little while.”

“You should have been a part of it for longer.”

He wiped the stray tears that escaped your eyes at that, knowing how much weight that statement alone held. You shut your eyes, sucking in a deep breath to try and pull yourself together, but to no avail. Quietly, you responded. “I know.”

“Don’t cry,” He whispered, tilting your face up by your chin, a fond expression gracing those gorgeous features of his, and your eyelids fluttering open to look at him, committing every single detail about them to your memory. “You look beautiful tonight, Y/n.”

The compliment stung, like needles digging into the surface of your skin roughly. You knew you were completely undeserving of it, that it should have been directed to your friend who was somewhere outside the privacy of the kitchen and yet there you were, basking in his attention like you always did in the few stolen moments you got with him. 

You were quite aware that you weren’t sober and you were willing to bet that he wasn’t either. Here the two of you were once again, eight long years later at a party, alone yet together. The irony of it all was not lost on you, and you somehow knew exactly what was going to happen in the next few seconds and still you made no motion to stop it. 

His lips found yours instinctively, kissing you hard. You let him, the familiarity of it all rushing back to you so quickly that it nearly knocked you off your feet. Your hands rested upon his arms as his mouth moved against yours, rendering you breathless and at his disposal. You were his, you had always been his just as he had always been yours, no matter how much time had passed or how much the two of you had changed.

If the wine had gotten you tipsy, his kiss had you downright intoxicated. You were drunk on the sensation, leaning into him to get as close as possible to take it all in. You memorised the way his thumb traced your jaw so tenderly as if you were made of glass and he was afraid to break you.

Life had somehow brought you right back to him full-circle, ending right when it had started the two of you off. Perhaps it was a cruel joke, to give you everything you had ever wanted in such a limited capacity and to simultaneously make it completely off-limits.

Eight years you had waited for this, and nothing had ever felt as liberating as it was wrong.

“We need to talk.”

It was the second time you were hearing these very words from Donghyuck’s mouth, and you were just as reluctant to comply as the first.

“No.”

He looked at you, frustration decorating the expression he had directed towards you. “We can’t keep avoiding it.”

Yeonmi had invited him over again for a movie night, but realised you had run out of coke and had volunteered to run down the store and get some more, blithely unaware of the clear tension between him and you. Then again, she had never noticed anything when it came to that, but it made your life much harder. 

“I think you’re just fine at that.” God, you couldn’t even begin to explain the magnitude of your anger. He was sitting there on the other end of your couch after a week of saying nothing to you- which was mostly your fault, considering you hadn’t shown up for your little coffee date that week and had stoutly ignored any calls or texts he sent your way- but that wasn’t the point.

The point in question? The fact that despite having kissed you, he evidently hadn’t broken things off with Yeonmi.

He frowned, “What do you mean?” 

Now, it wasn’t as if you wanted him to break up with her for you or anything, but rather because it was the right thing to do. Of course, this wasn’t to say that you didn’t secretly hope the former would be the reason for it, but deep down, you knew that you couldn't even indulge in that. The incident had been eating away at you ever since it happened–

– Well, what exactly had happened?

You recalled the way you broke out of his touch the moment he whispered your name against your lips and brought you back to reality. You remembered how the crash felt, the way you had been on top of the world for a few seconds before it all crumbled right at your feet, the long-growing anticipation dying out into unadulterated guilt.

You remembered thinking of Yeonmi, your sweet, supportive friend who hadn’t done a single thing to deserve what you had just done to her. 

When that happened, you wordlessly left the confines of the kitchen, avoiding him for the rest of the evening. Your cheeks felt hot and you felt light headed, but you had to keep up your image until everyone had gone home. He disappeared some time after that, the reason unknown to Yeonmi, who informed you of his sudden departure. 

“I mean, you’ve done a great job at completely avoiding talking about Yeonmi before, so you should have no problem avoiding talking about whatever happened between us.”

He clenched his jaw. “That's not fair and you know it.”

You did. You were too proud to admit it to his face though, refusing to let him pummel through your already shattered dignity. “Whatever.” You were still seated, staring up at him in defiance as your fingernails dug into the cushioning of the couch.

“Don’t do that, don’t shut me out again. Talk to me.”

“I shut you out because you left me, Donghyuck. I’m sorry for not letting you back in with open arms, if that's what you wanted from me.” You were terrified of this, manic at possibly having to face the music. You were so much better at running away from it all, away from him.

He sighed in retirement. “We kissed.”

Your throat felt dry. “Yeah.” 

“Y/n-”

“Don’t,” you warned, feeling emotion bubble to the surface and crack into your speech against your will. 

“I want to talk about it. I need you to talk about it with me.”

Stupid, perfect Donghyuck. You loathed the way that even after everything, after all this time, trouble and everything in between, he was somehow still everything you had ever wanted.

You kept your voice airy and as light as possible although your tongue felt heavier than it had ever been. “If you’d like, we can pretend like it never happened in the first place, just like we pretended we weren’t a thing.”

A thing. What a gross, unjustified oversimplification of what you had with him when you were younger, and cruel too, but you had no choice. You had spent every waking hour going over the possibilities, every outcome of the situation you had stumbled into and had come to a singular conclusion: you were going to get hurt.

Donghyuck stared at you in disbelief, getting to his feet and pacing around the room as if he was trying to create space between him and you to get away, but coming back moments later. “Don’t pin that on me. That was all you.”

A bitter laugh left you as you stood up, now face to face with him. The tension was arid, almost choking you, but his gaze had an even more adverse effect, cutting right through you like you were nothing at all and holding you accountable. He was so close to you, close enough to reach out and touch and kiss once again if you so wished.

But wishing for the unattainable was futile.

His eyes dropped to your lips. Futility be damned, you wanted another taste of what it felt like to be kissed by Lee Donghyuck already, having been stripped of that luxury without having any say in it all those years ago. Just like that, you were breathless and your thoughts scattered, the air between him and you turning electric.

God, you were so tempted to just give in and press your lips to his, but you knew you couldn’t, no matter how the way he was looking at you made you consider risking it all.

“Oh and what did you expect me to say? That it was wonderful she was dating my ex-boyfriend?”

And that's when you heard glass shatter.

You startled, taking a step away from Donghyuck immediately and your head snapping to the direction of the sound, only to find Yeonmi standing by the door. 

Two broken glass bottles of coke lay near her feet, their contents spilled and pooled around her shoes. The look on her face told you everything you needed to know- the disbelief in her eyes and agape mouth, those features laced with striking betrayal. In the heat of your argument with Donghyuck, you hadn’t heard the door open, neither had you heard your roommate enter, and you were certain that she had heard that last bit. 

Worse, she had seen the two of you like that. It didn’t matter how quickly you had retreated away from him. 

The scene was horrific in her eyes, and you could only imagine it from her perspective. The man she was dating and her roommate, someone she trusted and considered close, looked as if they were about to kiss each other right in front of her as if she didn’t exist in the first place.

“Yeonmi– I can explain–” You scrambled to try and piece together something that sounded plausible. 

“Explain what, exactly?” She asked quietly, staring at you like she had seen a ghost. You had never heard her speak with such hollowness and it scared you. “That you, the both of you, lied to me?” 

You had nothing to say to that because it was completely true. Everything about this was your fault and you could relate to the betrayal that she felt right then, you understood the hurt that she undoubtedly was experiencing right then.

“It makes sense now,” she said, tears springing to her eyes as she looked from you to him. “How you knew she knew so much about you, why you suddenly distanced yourself from me when I thought things were going well.” Donghyuck exhaled, looking at the ceiling and shutting his eyes. “You never really wanted me.”

“I’m sorry, Yeonmi.” 

You watched as tears made their way down your friend's face. You felt like a fraud for still referring to her as a friend when you had been anything but one to her. She opened her mouth to say something, but it seemed like her grief took over, only a choked sob leaving her. 

“I never want to see you again.”

And she turned around and walked out, storming into the hallway outside your apartment. You followed her out as quickly as possible in desperation, leaving Donghyuck behind. The yellow hallway felt intimidating all of a sudden, as if it was staring you down for the sins you had committed against your roommate. “Yeonmi, wait–”

She stopped outside the elevator and turned around to face you. “Why?” Her question felt like a sharpened rod prodding at your heart, or perhaps a knife driving through you and leaving you there to bleed out. “Why did you lie to me?”

“I didn’t know what to do,” Your helplessness finally escaped you in a rush, your own tears gathering in your eyes. “I didn’t want to, I swear I never wanted to hurt you.” 

This was all wrong. You had never wanted to hurt someone else, you had never wanted to spread the pain you had carried with you all these years to her and had done everything in your power to avoid doing so. You had done everything you thought was right and yet here you were, having made a mess of it all anyway. 

“I never…” You trailed off, your voice failing you as your tears trickled down, stinging your skin with their heat. “I never meant for it to be like this. I’m so sorry.” 

“He’s your ex.”

You nodded miserably, burying your face in your hands and pressing your palms over your eyes hard. You let your hands slide into your hair, tugging in frustration before you gathered the courage to finally look at her again.

“A long time ago. We were kids.” 

“And you’re still in love with him.”

You didn’t bother answering that one because you knew it wasn’t a question, looking at your feet until your vision got blurry from all the tears, some of them dribbling down your chin and onto the thick carpet beneath your slippers, staining it a darker colour than it was. Of course you were in love with Donghyuck, but it had come in between her own falling for him and she, despite having done nothing wrong, had to suffer the consequences.

“Fuck,” she muttered, leaning against the wall. “You should have told me. I would have stopped seeing him immediately if I knew.”

This wasn’t groundbreaking news, you had inherently known this from the start. “I know.” 

“If you knew, then for fucks sake, why didn’t you tell me?” Her anger was warranted in every sense and ever scenario having to do with this, the force and outrage in her tone making you visibly flinch.

“Because,” you hesitated, before deciding that hiding anything more from her wouldn’t do you any good. “Because you were happy.”

She softened slightly at that. “But you weren’t, Y/n.”

“I hadn’t seen you that happy since…” You didn’t need to finish or mention her ex, you knew she understood. “I couldn’t bring myself to take that from you.”

She took a few steps towards you, failing to portray any malice now. “You ruined it anyways, and I think this is much worse.” Pity exuded off of her while she spoke to you, but just as quickly as you felt it, it was gone, replaced by the sheer magnitude of deception she felt. “You let me experience a false sense of happiness and consequently ruined it, and I don’t think I can ever forgive you for that.” 

You certainly didn’t expect her to. You didn’t even dare ask her for forgiveness, knowing that you didn’t deserve it at all. 

“But I can’t blame you for loving him. And I can’t blame him for being in love with you either because I can see it. It finally makes sense now.” She sighed in defeat, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “I hate you.”

“I know.” 

“And I can’t be happy for you either, so I’m going to leave. I’ll stay over at Chaewons.”

You shook your head. “No, I should be the one who goes, you should stay at the apartment.”

“Yes, but I’m the one who deserves to have a friend to talk to, so I’m going to go.” You could tell how hard she was trying to remain calm, removing herself from the situation before she did anything stupid. She walked away from you and towards the elevator, calling it to your floor. You nodded, letting a defeated sigh escape your lungs.

“Okay. Drive safe. I’m sorry.” 

“I will.” Yeonmi stepped into the elevator and faced you one last time, pressing her lips together. “I’m sorry too Y/n, because I never want to see you again either.”

xii] then.

You occupied one of the swings, humming an idle tune you had heard on the radio earlier that day while you looked through your phone. Currently, it was 7:15 p.m, fifteen minutes after Donghyuck had promised to meet you at the park. You didn’t think much of it though, since he was usually on time and would show up soon enough.

“Hey.”

Speak of the devil.

You looked up from your scrolling to see him standing there a little away from you and smiled. He seemed out of breath as if he had run all the way here and his hair was tousled from the wind that blew, biting into your exposed skin. You realised you had left his jacket at home. 

“Hey you,” you hardly ever recognised the tone your cadence took on when it was directed towards him, and you couldn’t pinpoint when it switched to such transparent affection either, but you weren’t one to question such things. Your love for him was as sure as the cycle of the earth around the sun, an inevitable happenstance of fate. 

“I can’t stay for long,” he informed you regretfully, walking over and occupying the swing beside yours. “I have to be home earlier today.”

“That’s okay,” you checked the time. 7:17. “How early?”

He winced, “Eight technically, but I’m sure I can stretch it till eight-thirty.”

You waved this suggestion off, shaking your head. “Nah it’s fine, I don’t want you to get in trouble. We can talk while we walk home.”

“Okay.” He followed you out of the park and onto the streets. Still being winter, the days were short and the sky was already dark, the streetlights provided the pair of you with illumination, second to the moon peeking out from behind the clouds as if it was afraid to call the sky its own before its usual time. 

You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his as you fell in step with him, enjoying the warmth he provided. “We can just hang out tomorrow.” The next day was a Sunday, which meant you had the entire day to yourselves if you so pleased.

His smile faltered slightly as he nodded. “Yeah, tomorrow.” 

You completely missed the uncertainty coating the word and the anxiety he felt right then, pulling him along with you as you walked. Teenage foolishness was truly a fool's paradise, your blissful unawareness blessing you with a bounce in your step and a worry free mind. Donghyuck meanwhile was struggling to keep up, his guilt making it feel as if his feet were heavier than ever, the knowledge he possessed and had effectively kept from you being the cause of his misery. 

So you talked about your day, the difficult question on your test that day and about Sakura’s progress with Yuta (which had been minimal at best, but you were proud of her nonetheless because at least now she could wave ‘hello’ to the boy). He listened to you chatter endlessly, the sound of your excited rambling distracting him from his troubles. There was never a moment he was bored when around you and he truly did love to listen to you talk. 

He’d miss that more than anything. He’d miss you more than anything he had ever had the chance to miss.

“Oh we’re here,” you stopped outside your house and turned to him, walking right into his arms for a quick goodbye hug, planting a chaste kiss upon his lips before you pulled away. “Thanks for walking me home.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, watching as you began walking to your door. He already missed the feeling of your skin against his, wishing he had held you for a little bit longer. Was he already forgetting the taste of your kiss, even though you were only a few feet away from him?

“Y/n?”

You stopped and looked back at him, your smile visible in your eyes. “Yeah?”

He was leaving tonight. That was why he had to be home early, because it would be the last time he ever set foot in that house. Tonight he would be gone, and you still didn’t know a damn thing. It was too late to explain. That was his own doing and now he’d simply have to live with the guilt plaguing him for what would probably be the rest of his life. Every time he thought about you, it would attack him once more and push him underwater, holding him there until he ran out of breath. 

So he would have to settle for something small and manageable to quell his culpability, at least by a little. 

“I’m sorry.”

He knew that it wasn’t nearly enough to make up for everything. Two meagre words couldn’t do much at all and it wasn’t capable of fixing anything either, but it was the best he could do. His heart felt heavy, and he could feel his eyes sting with tears at the sight of your confused face at this, finally letting the unhappiness he felt crack through. “I’m so sorry.”

Concern bled into your features. “For what? Hyuck, are you okay?”

Donghyuck shook his head and blinked rapidly to stop himself from crying in front of you, stuffing his hands into his pockets and taking a step back. “Yeah, I’m fine, I just– see you tomorrow.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving you to eye his figure as it sauntered down the street and disappeared around the corner. He was confusing sometimes, switching from being happy to something entirely else within seconds. 

You opened the door and walked into your house as night fell.

The next day, he was late again. 

Usually he would pick you up on holidays before you went anywhere, but today he was nowhere to be seen. It was noon now, and you glanced outside your window, anticipating his car to pull into your lane any moment now.

You momentarily entertained the idea of him possibly forgetting. It did seem like he had a lot on his mind as of late, so you wouldn’t blame him if he had. The only issue was that he wasn’t texting you back, nor was he answering your calls and so you decided to stop waiting around for him to show up, opting to go over to his house instead.

The sky was cloudy that day, a chill in the air that had you remembering to pull on a jacket before you set out this time, the gravel beneath your feet crunching loudly in the silence of the afternoon. Most of the town took their midday nap on a Sunday such as this one, making it seem a lot quieter than it was.

So when you walked up to his door and noticed all the lights in the house seemed to be off, you didn’t think much of it, preparing to apologise for disturbing if his mother happened to answer as you rang the bell. 

No response.

You frowned, waiting a minute or so before ringing the bell again twice in succession. When nothing happened, you slipped your phone out of your pocket and clicked on his contact, holding it up to your ears. It didn’t ring at all, immediately playing a recorded message instead.

‘This contact is temporarily out of service.’

Your intuition kicked in, telling you that something was inherently very wrong. Swallowing thickly, you tried ringing the bell one last time, louder than before.

“Y/n? What are you doing here sweetheart?”

You looked over to your right to see a lady in her fifties- a friend of your mothers- standing outside the neighbouring house, wrapped up in a robe. Embarrassment at causing a disturbance flared up inside of you as you rushed to explain yourself.

“I’m sorry Aunty, I just wanted to visit my friend Donghyuck.” You gestured toward the door to aid in your explanation, earning a perplexed look from her end.

“He’s not here anymore.”

There it was again, your intuition kicking you from the inside and clawing up, dread beginning to fill you. “I–I’m not sure I understand Aunty.” 

“They moved out sometime late last night, his mother had told me about it a month or so ago when she needed help fixing a hole in the wall to get her deposit back from their landlord. I had my husband help her– but that’s beside the point. They’re gone.”

The implication of the new information hadn’t quite registered yet, leaving you to stare at the lady, dumbfounded. “Gone,” you repeated under your breath. “Oh.”

“I thought you knew since you were such good friends with her son.” Friends. The word sounded bitter right then, because you had been so much more than that, but as you stood there and listened to your mothers friend talk, you wondered if you even qualified for that. Didn’t friends tell each other things? 

“Is everything okay, darling?” Why didn’t he tell you?

“It must have slipped my mind. I’m sorry for disturbing you Aunty.”

She waved it off, forgiving you easily and retreating back into her house. You stared at the door.

He couldn’t have been gone- it made no sense whatsoever. Just yesterday he had been by your side and had made plans to meet with you today. Why would he have done that if he was going to leave?

I’m sorry.

His cryptic words from the day before rushed back to you and you gasped to yourself when their magnitude finally hit you, causing you to stumble back and off of the landing of the house. He did know, he knew and had blatantly lied to your face without a second thought. Your mind went into overdrive as you tried to piece what had just happened together to form a coherent set of thoughts, failing miserably at doing so.

Two things were clear: Donghyuck was gone and you had no idea where or why. 

You tried calling him again, punching in his number into the dial pad almost furiously, willing him to pick up. When the same monotone message repeated itself, you cursed, accidentally dropping your phone onto the path you stood on in your frenzy.

“No, no, no, no” There was a certain manic quiver to your voice as you picked up the device, staring at his profile picture. It seemed to mock you now, the bright smile he sported in it that portrayed joy directly challenging the torrential downpour of agony that you were inflicted with, thus rendered utterly despaired.

Your boyfriend was gone, and he hadn’t bothered to tell you about it. 

The boy you loved, heck, the person you adored and meant the most to you in the entire world had left you without so much as a proper goodbye, leaving you behind to wonder why. You hadn’t the faintest idea where he could have been at that moment, just knowing that he wasn’t where he had promised he’d be and where you needed him most.

Hot tears spilled out of your eyes, catching onto your eyelashes and making it hard for you to see. You didn’t bother to stand back up, the asphalt beneath your knees digging into it harshly, no doubt going to leave a few minor cuts. The amount of questions you had were innumerable, each one crashing into the other until your head was full of incomprehensible nonsense that made it spin. 

It felt too normal for him to have been gone. The rest of the town functioned as normal and yet it felt as if your entire world had just been flipped upside down.

When Sakura and Chenle sat you down and asked you about what had happened when they found you sitting all alone in the park after skipping school a few days later, you left out the parts describing how you desperately tried ringing the bell a few more times afterwards. You didn’t tell them about how you had so hoped that it was an elaborate prank, nor did you go into detail about how many times you had called him, hoping and praying for him to pick up. 

The days melted into weeks without Donghyuck. 

You hated how it felt as if he was everywhere, having tainted all your favourite places and being the majority of your most beloved memories. You half expected him to walk out from around a corner and surprise you, taking you in his arms and kissing your forehead.

But hope is a foolish sentiment, especially hope fueled by naive teenage fallacies. The rose tinted glasses that had been worn by you for the months you had been with Donghyuck seemed to fade in their vitality, sucking out all the colour from your life until it felt as if you were left with a dull combination of greys and blue hues to paint the rest of your life with. You were missing the components that gave it warmth.

For you, Donghyuck was the sun, enigmatic, alluring and all too elusive. He was everything you could ever ask to have and yet just outside your reach, your fingertips barely brushing against it before it disappeared again. You quickly learned that you were the moon, waiting amidst the stars and hoping for those moments when both the sun and moon were painted across the same canvas of sky. 

That very sky had fractured into a kaleidoscope of colours when he left, leaving you to pick up the shards of your broken heart.

xiii] now.

You stood in the doorway of what used to be Yeonmi’s room, comparing it to how you remembered it looking before. The only thing left was the bedframe and an old cupboard, the rest of the room was bare.

She had moved out a couple days after the incident, leaving you alone in the apartment. You would have to look for another roommate or simply cover her part of the rent yourself considering you could afford to now with your promotion. Still, the silence was overwhelming, reminding you constantly of how easily you had ruined a friendship.

It seemed to be one of the core themes of your life- to experience debilitating loss over and over without having any time to prepare for the same.

The doorbell rang. 

Ungluing yourself from her former doorframe, you dragged yourself to the door and opened it, your eyes widening in question when it fell upon the person who stood there.

“Y/n."

Donghyuck stared back at you with those captivating eyes of his, pulling you into a trance of sorts instantaneously.  You forced yourself to snap out of it.

“What are you doing here?”

He combed his fingers through his hair, evidently agitated. “I didn’t know what else to do. You won’t answer my calls and I need to talk to you, even if you don’t want to.” 

You were so tired, the events that had transpired over the past few weeks crushing you beneath the weight of it all. Looking at him now, all you could do was weakly shake your head, a frantic sort of fear consuming you whole. 

“No,” you said, taking a step back. “I don’t not want to talk to you, I can’t.”

“Why?”

The question made you freeze in place, your feet rooted to the flooring of your apartment. Why? After everything that had transpired, it was for some reason much too hard for you to answer although the answer was at the forefront of your thoughts and on the tip of your tongue. Truthfully, you were afraid to sound it out, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to convey it correctly.

When he left you eight years ago, you didn’t have the opportunity to talk to him. He had taken away that possibility for you without ever considering if you’d want it, and gradually you grew used to silently harbouring ache that bloomed in your ribcage. 

It occurred to you then that the same was the reason he wanted to talk. Donghyuck had forced himself to cut you off in every way after he moved, following his own teenage justifications that told him it was for the best. Now, older and wiser, he knew not to repeat the misdeeds of his youth, but the very opposite notion had been instilled in you.

“Donghyuck,” you whispered his name, giving him a knowing look, one that was filled with so much sadness and despair that he could barely recognise you. Where was the ever-cheery girl he had fallen for?

Was he the cause for her disappearance?

If so, he promised himself he’d be the one to bring her back too. “Be with me.”

You gasped softly at his proposition, shaking your head furiously, “Are you insane?”

He simply nodded, taking a step closer towards you. “Yes. About you, I’ve always been insane about you.” Conviction hung onto every word, and perhaps if you were younger you would have swooned and run straight back into his arms. 

You missed your naivety, for life would have been so much easier with it. It was a boon, but now you were wary for the sake of your fragile heart. You could feel your teenage wistfulness rise to the surface as if it was trying to break out of the cage you had locked it in, doing its best to claw its way out and hand the rest of the pieces of your heart over to the man who had the missing bit you had been searching for all these years without him. 

But you knew better.

Instead, you shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut as if that would make him go away. “No, no, no.” It seemed to be the only word your tongue could form right then and so you repeated it over and over, clinging onto what it meant as if you were trying to convince yourself that you truly meant it. “I can’t be with you.”

“Yes, you can. You know you can.” His own desperation began to shine through, exposing his own years of heartache. He had waited so long for a moment like this. Every goddamn day since the day he had left you, he had regretted it, heartache permanently etched into his bones.

You snapped your eyes open, disbelief overtaking. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious. Be with me.”

“We just hurt Yeonmi,” you said, your words getting caught in your throat. Then, once again, your chagrin towards him glared up as you glared. “And that was because she happened to walk in on us talking. What if she had seen us kiss? Tell me, would we even be having this conversation if she hadn’t found us?”

“I…” He frowned and you scoffed. 

“Would you have ever broken it off with her?” Or would I have had to deal with our intertwined web of lies all by myself? The bitter thought lingered.

“Yes.” The answer was immediate. “If you wanted that, I would have done it.”

“Of course I wanted it!” You blurted out, your fingers curling into the palm of your hand into a fist. “But I couldn’t want it, because she was my friend, Donghyuck. Even if you had broken it off, I still couldn’t do a damn thing.” 

He swallowed thickly, “I know, its fucked up, but I–”

“Yeah, fucked up. Too fucked up for me to even think about being with you.”

“But you have, haven’t you?” The question threw you off, and as if he had magically read your mind, he clarified, “You have thought about it.”

You froze, and your silence betrayed you immensely. There wasn’t a single lie you could have uttered in response that would have been convincing enough, not even to yourself. 

“I can do it this time,” he said so earnestly that it broke your heart all over again, his coffee-coloured eyes pleading with you. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll never leave you again Y/n, I’m not a kid anymore. I can be here for you.” Promises fell from his mouth, sweet pledges and assurances that felt like balm to your wounded soul. 

But how were you supposed to trust the very person that had given you trust issues? 

How were you supposed to put those trust issues to the side and take him back with open arms without bruising your dignity any further? How were you to do it without falling apart?

Melancholy was a funny thing to have taken over you right then, self pity flooding your system, as well as pity for him. For so long, you had blamed him, but now that you took a step back and viewed your situation, you realised that you would have to do the very same thing he did so long ago.

The cyclical nature of life was pitilessly cruel, ravaging everything in its path no matter the case. It had brought you back to all you had ever known and wanted, all the while forcing you to let go, pulling the rug from under your feet without giving you the chance to find your footing. It had made him leave you and come back, only to have you walk away because of how wrong things were. 

Love found in dark, twisted places was never love that was meant to be nurtured. Love emerging from lies and deceit, situations that were impossible- it was love that would forever have to be left behind, no matter how pure it might have once been.

“I can’t love you.” 

“Y/n please-” 

“I’ve already hurt her, and if I love you again I’m going to hurt myself as well because I–I’m always the one that's left to sit and think about you. And it fucking hurts Donghyuck, it hurts.” You couldn’t believe him when he said he’d stay, because he had told you the very same thing all those years ago. You couldn’t be with him without guilt haunting your every move when you had so severely hurt Yeonmi due to your own agony.

You didn’t even realise you had started crying, tears cascading down your face. It was all so unfair, how something that had always been advertised as being simple had been anything but for you. Love had never once ended well for you, constantly picking you up and throwing you back down subsequently without giving you a moment to breathe.

Love was supposed to be the most beautiful thing in the entire world, so why was it so goddamn ugly? 

It crushed him to see you like this, so openly broken and yet guarded at the same time, your wall built up so high that he wasn’t sure he could ever break it back down again. He hated how it was him who always brought you to this point, and he tried to reach out to you to wipe away your tears, but you only flinched away from his touch. 

How the hell had you ended up like this? 

“Then tell me you don’t feel it.” He had to know. He needed to hear it from you.

Your lower lip quivered. “Feel what?”

God, you felt so much. Just looking at him was enough to stir up a surfeit of emotions that you hadn't the faintest clue how to handle, but one in particular overpowered the others, an ache emanating from your rib cage that was so potent, it exhausted you.

“Feel what you did when we were sixteen. Say it.”

Sixteen. You had felt so loved by another that barely understood the concept of it himself at the time, its meaning so completely untainted by the passage of time and complications that came. That innocence wasn’t to be found within you, but the remnants of it had grown and interwoven itself with what only he could bring out of you.

“I–”

“I’ll say it then, because goddamnit Y/n I love you.” The look on Donghyuck’s face ripped right through you. “I’ve always loved you, from the moment I saw you when we were teenagers. You’re the only person I’ve ever been in love with and I know you love me too.”

It fucking hurt. You couldn’t understand how the only person in the world who understood you so completely and saw right through everything you were was the one person you couldn’t let yourself be with. It was Donghyuck who used to notice even a slight switch in your mood when you were upset and it was him who would cheer you up the best he could. It was him who used to let you ramble on into the late of night and text you into the wee hours of the morning and him who now naturally gravitated towards you, just as you did to him. It was his jacket that you still had buried somewhere in your closet from all those years ago, with you unable to let go of it no matter how hard you tried. 

Even now when you had only reunited for a bitterly short period of time, he was still the one who intrinsically knew every part of you. He knew you loved him still.

You inhaled sharply, noticing the red tint to the white of his eyes, realising that he too was struggling to keep himself together right then. Shaking your head slowly, you moved closer towards his figure, touching his face gently and cupping it between your palms, searching his eyes intently.

“I love you.”

He shut his eyes the moment you said it, tears slipping down and catching on your fingertips as you brushed them away. 

“But even you know we can’t be together.”

The world had ripped the two of you away from each other once, and you had to trust that there was a reason for it. You knew you couldn’t let yourself go back because it was simply not meant to be with the circumstances and cards life had dealt you.

You loved Donghyuck- fuck, you loved him more than you thought was possible, and it still wasn’t enough. Neither of you could communicate through anything and shit was a hell of a lot more complicated than it was when you were just teenagers. He was right, he wasn’t a kid anymore and neither were you, but too much had happened. The timing was never right for him and you, there was always one thing or the other standing in the way, and the repercussions of everything was too much for you to simply put in the past, making the two of you something that would never work.

“I know.” 

The syllables left his lips so brokenly that you instinctively had the urge to somehow fix him- whatever part of him that was fractured. The front he had been parading around, the false sense of confidence that he had pretended to have about you had finally collapsed, leaving him with a truth he hadn’t come to terms with just yet. The resignation he possessed broke you further, and you pressed your lips to his firmly, trying to mend your fragmented souls.

But it was fruitless. This was a brokenness that you would have to learn to live with until time bandaged your matching wounds, dulling it down into what would one day just be the thought of how terribly it burned. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered against his mouth. “I love you.”

Disentangling himself from you, he stepped outside of your apartment and looked at you, imagining you once again the way he had first met you. 

“I love you too.”

It was ironic, how words could mean something entirely different to what they were, how seemingly unrelated sentences were connected, a confession of affection serving the same purpose as a final farewell. Goodbyes of such permanence were merciless things and so when presented with one so absolutely brutal, he couldn’t help but think about the beginning, from the very first hello that passed between him and you. 

I love you. The very last time you’d ever hear it from him.

Those fragile, lovely rose tinted glasses you wore in your youth had snapped a long time ago, and you could see everything for what it was.

And now, he could too.

Time was said to heal all wounds, but only if it was a wound that was ready to be healed.

Everything about Donghyuck and you was unfinished back then, the millions of questions you had haunting your every move ever since it had so abruptly ended. For eight years that wound had been left wide open and time had only assisted in letting it fester, burying its memory deep within your psyche.

But time also brought wisdom in its stride. 

You picked up the mail your new roommate had left on your coffee table, shifting through the pile until you found the envelopes with your name on them. Leaving the rest behind, you made your way to your room, sighing in relief at finally being back in your comfort space.

Sitting atop your bed, you began opening each envelope. A letter from your grandmother who refused to learn how to send you a text, a card from an aunt and a few bills- the usual collection, but one stood out from the rest. The sender's address was entirely unfamiliar to you, and you frowned lightly, carefully tearing open the top and tipping out its contents.

A soft gasp escaped your lips.

Right there on your lap lay two tickets to Lee Jieun’s upcoming concert.

As if you were afraid that they would disintegrate, you gently picked them up and inspected them, in utter disbelief at the fact that you were holding them. You had failed to get tickets of your own when you had tried and yet here you were with not one, but two of them in your grasp- and they were the expensive kind, the ones where you had access to go backstage and meet the artists as well. 

For a moment you entertained the possibility of this being a mistake, but then you stopped your train of thought when it slammed head first into the only explanation as to how they had gotten here.

A small, wistful smile crept up upon you as you glanced back at the envelope, noticing a small piece of paper still inside. Taking it out, a breathless chuckle was all you managed after reading what it said.

‘Thought I’d at least keep this promise. – L.D’

Suddenly, you were taken back to that cafe where you had the conversation with Donghyuck. You hadn’t stepped foot in there since the last time you saw him- over two months ago when you knew it was over. 

Sometimes, a story doesn’t have to have an ending to be finished. 

You knew that a part of you would always love Donghyuck due to the ephemeral, innocent nature of the young love you had for him that had been ingrained within you. You had made your peace knowing that the two of you were something written into the world to die out eventually, something that you had to let go of even if it made no sense to you.

It was apparent that this was a love that could never truly be yours, as magnificent as it seemed it had never been yours to begin with in the first place. It was a mishmash of bad timing and rash teenage decisions mixed in with that sort of hopelessness you only found in the blissful oblivion of adolescence. You could wish and want a million things, but at the end of the day, now and then, some things were simply not meant to be.

The love between the two of you was something you were never supposed to claim, time and time again slipping through your fingers, and yet you still grieved for its loss.

But grief could be overcome. You shut your eyes, imagining his cheeky smile and fond eyes, the way he’d look at you while you were talking and all the pretty, empty promises he had made. All the talks of the future that had always been fractured for the two of you and moments of tenderness.

For once, you didn’t just picture him apologising to you over and over again, that ache having finally dulled out.

And when you opened your eyes, you didn’t feel sixteen anymore, instead you felt as if time had passed almost too quickly and reality was finally catching up. You felt older, properly this time, and much more experienced. 

Donghyuck had been your first love at the tender age of sixteen, the cause of your flushed cheeks and racing heart; affectionate, shy smiles and chaste kisses underneath streetlights. He had been the torrential downpour of rain upon a stormy sea, as violent as it was beautiful. All you felt about him had only ever been intense in nature, your youthfulness unable to process them in any other way. Now, looking back, perhaps there were several things you would have done differently, and maybe some you wouldn’t have done at all.

You would remember it all, every single detail of course, but when you thought about Donghyuck, you’d think about all the good. You’d remember laughing out over him singing along to your favourite songs on the radio while aimlessly driving around town, the late night conversations you’d sneak out together to have and the ice cream you’d share on hotter summer days. You’d think about his infectious laugh and the way he always managed to make you happy, the way he’d take care of you when you were sick and kiss your forehead goodbye each and every time. How your hand would perfectly fit in his, fingers intertwined and clasped together tight, how he’d whisper the three words that you so cherished back then at the most unexpected of times. You’d remember the love that was very real and very much lost and its seemingly magical, wild nature that you doubted you’d ever find again. 

You’d remember sixteen.

fin.

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Let Me Be Your Anchor

Chapter 16: Teatime

Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett An Offer from a Gentleman reimagined Chapter rating: 18+ - explicit sexual content, drug use Word count: 4.4k

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The next day Aubrey Hall continued to teem with activity under the watchful eyes of the Duke and Duchess. Benedict notified Mr. Dewitt that Sophie would be retained as a member of the housekeeping staff during the country visit. If the steward had any thoughts about the whiplash instructions he was receiving in regards to the newly arrived maid, he was wise enough not to betray them. 

Benedict’s mind hadn’t stopped whirring since his encounter with Sophie in the drawing room the previous day. After returning from the lake, his sister gave no indication that she suspected anything untoward. It seemed their secret was safe. But how much longer could they carry on like this, sneaking through hallways in the dead of night, scurrying into unoccupied rooms? The risk of their discovery would increase tenfold when the family and guests started to arrive. Sophie was correct that they would need to actively avoid one another. He hadn’t even contemplated what would happen at the conclusion of his family’s hosting duties when he would be expected to return to London. 

In the midst of his colliding thoughts, all he could think of was his need for Sophie; his yearning to watch her lips part as he made her gasp, his hunger to make her come apart, his ache to hold her in his arms. He set up an easel in his bedchamber and tried to unleash his feelings on a canvas, but found himself lost in daydreams of her. Rash as it may have been, he sent word to the kitchen specifically requesting that Sophie bring him his tea.

His heart bounded when she opened the door, tray balanced on her hip as he had seen her so many times before while convalescing. Her smile was brighter than the sunlight streaming through the windows. 

She set the tea tray on a table and curtsied. “Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Sophie.” Her name left his lips with a sigh of relief. “Are we not done with formalities when we are alone together?”

She returned a coy smile. “Very well, Ben. I assume you summoned me for a reason. Would you like me to sit for my portrait?”

He stepped toward her, feeling a stab of guilt that he could never seem to concentrate long enough in her presence to complete his work. “I certainly intend to finish your portrait. That is a gift I promised you. But I’m afraid my thoughts are too preoccupied to give it the attention it deserves at the moment.

“Preoccupied?” Her eyes sparkled with curiosity as he closed the distance between them and ran his knuckles across her cheek.

“Anticipation of my family’s arrival. And thoughts of you. Knowing we must keep our distance once they arrive.” 

“Yes, we must.” Sophie swallowed, feeling the familiar bloom of heat just from his proximity. 

“But we have today.” Benedict nuzzled against her cheek, delighting in her scent, the faintest hint of amber and vanilla. 

Sophie’s eyes rolled closed and she grew pliant in his arms, but her mind still registered the risk of their encounters. “The Duke and Duchess…”

“Are calling at Romney Hall nearby,” he explained. “My sister is a friend of Lady Crane. She is ill and won’t be able to attend the visit.”

“The children?”

Benedict snickered. “Are with their army of nurses. The time is ours.” He pressed his lips to hers, soft and plush, and she was bereft of any further protest. “I wanted to ask if you’d like to…join me in calming my thoughts?”

“How do you mean?” Sophie asked, noting the mischievous flicker across his features, his crooked grin triggering a spark of excitement.

“An elixir procured by my younger brother in his travels. Whatever it may be, I find it both soothes the nerves and opens my mind to artistic inspiration. When paired with a canvas it helps me produce some of my most…experimental work.” He ran a hand gently through her hair, gazing at her as if she were his greatest muse. “It’s an experience unlike any other, and one that I’d like to share with you, if you are willing.”

Sophie was surprised by his offer, that he was inviting her to join him in more than just carnal pleasures. She had never tried any such substances, but assumed the effects must be different than strong drink. On a few occasions she had indulged enough to experience drunkenness with her fellow servants, usually on holidays. She found the sensation not unpleasant, a numbing carefree haze, but it did have a way of stealing joy from the following day when she would wake with a headache and bitter mouth. But she trusted Benedict implicitly. He would ensure her enjoyment as he introduced her to something new.

“How does one take this elixir?” She asked.

“A powder added to tea.” He wiggled his eyebrows and moved about the room, producing a small pouch from a drawer in his writing desk and shaking it playfully before resting it beside the teapot. “Medicinal in a way not unlike your tinctures, but entirely unique.”

Nodding her consent, Sophie sat across from Benedict at the small table and watched as he poured them each a cup of tea and added small spoonfuls of the pouch’s vibrant purple powder. He stirred and handed her the mixture, insisting she take the first sip. Tentatively, she brought it to her lips.

“You may wish to hold your nose,” Benedict coached. “The smell and taste can be a bit foul.”

Sophie did detect a whiff of something pungent, vegetal but charred somehow. Holding her breath, she took a full sip and scrunched up her face as the aftertaste withered her tongue.

“Ugh,” she grimaced as Benedict giggled. “You claim this makes you feel better?”

“Give it a moment,” he grinned. “You will see.”

___

In what felt like no time at all, Sophie became aware of her altered state. A single cup of Benedict’s mystery tea and she found herself able to count the motes of dust that floated in the shafts of sunlight. As opposed to the numbing effect of alcohol, she found her mind and body heightened in awareness. She was fascinated by the friction of her dress against her skin, the tactile surface of the table and the fine china, and the colors of the fabrics throughout the room. Having drunk his own cup, Benedict seemed to be fixated on color too. After ensuring she was feeling well, he had gone to his easel and was blending oil paints directly with his fingers on both palette and canvas, making sweeping motions with his arms, entirely lost to inspiration. 

Sophie didn’t know how long she lazed in her chair watching him. The tea made time seem untrackable and irrelevant. She certainly did feel her nerves calmed and mind opened. She was content to simply gaze at Benedict, the man she secretly loved, drinking in the sight of him and every feature she adored. His tousled dark hair, his animated brow, pale blue eyes locked on his work, lopsided smirk appraising what he was crafting. Her focus narrowed to the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead, the tendons flexing in his muscular neck, and the veins surging in his paint-streaked forearms. He had rolled his sleeves to the elbows but was otherwise fully dressed in a floral patterned waistcoat and pinned cravat, and for some reason this struck her as aggravating. With every inch of her skin sensitized in a way she had never known before, she wanted to touch and be touched, to taste and be tasted, to learn what it felt like to ascend to the plane of bliss when she already felt herself high above any clouds.

With a boldness that surprised even herself she rose, marched to Benedict’s side, took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply. Light danced behind her eyelids as the sweet flavor of his lips cascaded over her own. Benedict froze, holding his hands to either side so as not to cover her in paint.

Sophie pulled back and they both chuckled, heady with the closeness of each other as much as with the tea. Kissing him again, she found herself entirely absent of inhibition. With his hands unavailable she was in control and the realization was undeniably thrilling. There was something she had been longing to try and now was the perfect moment.

Continuing to savor him, her hands went to work unwinding his cravat. Benedict stood still, humming in amusement as they kissed. Once the fabric was in her hands, cool and slippery, she moved to stand behind him. On tiptoe she wrapped the dark blue silk around his eyes and knotted it in the back.

“Blind man’s bluff?” Benedict quipped, sounding befuddled.

“Shh.” Sophie giggled as she moved back to face him and contemplated her next move. The buttons on his waistcoat were slowly unfastened and the garment slipped carefully over his technicolor arms and onto the floor. Biting her lip, she snapped his braces against his chest causing him to gasp before she pulled them down from his shoulders. Next was his shirt. Sophie could hear him breathing harder as she pulled the hem from his waistband. She leaned to his ear and whispered, “Raise your arms.”

Giving himself over to her direction, Benedict grinned uncontrollably as she undressed him. He did as he was told, lifting his arms in front of himself to accommodate her height and she pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it across the room. He stood before her blindfolded and shirtless, chest heaving, trousers jutting out unnaturally with his stiffness. Feeling more seductive than ever before, she traced a finger from his jaw down his neck, chest and abdomen, admiring. He was muscled, athletic, and his pale skin was so soft, smelling of soap and his oil paints. Sophie knelt down to pull off his boots, running her hand lightly down the front of his trousers on her way, causing him to hiss from the sensation.

“Lift your feet.” He obeyed and she pulled off his boots and stockings. Sophie remembered the night at the inn where she had awkwardly relieved him of his clothing out of necessity. This was a decidedly more pleasurable echo of that encounter. They were both breathing quite hard now, knowing there was only one more garment left to remove. Sophie remained on her knees and reached up, slowly unbuttoning his trousers. His hands clenched into fists and she could see him gritting his jaw. She smiled as she slid the last of his clothes down and bid him to step out of them. Now he was nude and erect with anticipation. She delayed a moment, waiting to strike. She would surprise him. She knew he was expecting her hands; how she usually touched him. She would skip that step.

Benedict gasped as her hot, wet mouth encircled him. It was a shock to his system, standing naked and blind in excruciating silence, broken suddenly by his cock being devoured. He reached out to hold her head but she swatted his hand away, reminding him of how soiled they were. Groaning through clenched teeth he fought to stand still and just let her have her way with him. It was agony and paradise combined, a flood of feelings as his swirling senses honed in on her attentions. The minx inside sweet Sophie had been unleashed by the tea and he was both proud and humbled that she was offering her own form of experimentation to match his. 

At long last Sophie was fulfilling her wish to take Benedict in her mouth, to show him just how fervently she longed to please him, to worship his body as he had worshipped hers. She found the act surprisingly enjoyable, knowing the power she wielded from her knees. Hearing the needy sounds he made and looking up to see his mouth hung open with awe gave her her own satisfaction in turn. After a few pulls along his manhood she leaned back. “How is this, Ben? Inspirational?” She flicked her tongue across his tip.

He groaned, legs buckling. “Yes, Sophie. It’s…you’re wonderful. Just…just like this. Your lips are like the kiss of heaven.” She chuckled, knowing he would likely spout something poetic even if they were not under the influence. Motivated to push him even higher into the firmament, she leaned forward to consume him again. She tried different motions, licking and sucking, back and forth, her tongue dancing around his veins, her hand rising to join her mouth in stroking. Whenever Benedict moaned above her, she persisted with that action. 

Then she tested herself, seeing how deeply she could take him. Slowly, she pushed further and further toward his body, pulling him into her mouth, relaxing every muscle she knew how. She knew he was in her throat once she could no longer breathe. An odd, somewhat alarming sensation but she felt in control. Staying relaxed she began to move gently, sucking him as before, letting him penetrate an entirely new area of her body. Having the most intimate part of him warm and heavy in her mouth was a comfort and sin she could never have imagined.

Benedict positively shouted with surprise as he breached Sophie’s throat. He instinctively tore the cravat from his eyes, looked down and saw her face practically flush with his pelvis, eyes closed in concentration as she rocked back and forth. He was buried so deep that when she finally gagged, he felt as if he were swallowed, squeezed with a pressure and heat that threatened to topple him. He shuddered, mind gone completely blank. Sophie pulled back and came up for air, gasping after his entire length slid out of her beautiful mouth. She wiped her lips on the back of her hand and smiled up at him, looking proud of herself.

“Sophie Beckett, you marvelous creature,” he beamed down at her. With a smug gleam in her eyes she set herself on him again and Benedict rocketed skyward. He murmured praise and suggestions, hips beginning to thrust as she sucked him eagerly. She had a natural talent with her tongue that he knew was liable to destroy him. The warmth of her mouth, the suction of her lips, the challenge in her dewy eyes gazing up at him, it grew too much to bear. As he felt himself nearing the peak he pulled back.

“Sophie, I’m…I am nearly there.”

“Good,” she smiled, tearing away the collar of her uniform and beginning to loosen her frock. Benedict watched, agog as she undressed, stripping down to the waist. Then she wrapped a warm hand around his length and began to pump, her breasts bare and bobbing hypnotically as she stroked him. Whatever fire had been lit within her, he vowed to keep it tended. Gazing at each other open mouthed, she commanded him softly but intently. “Come on me.”

Seeing and hearing how hungry she was for his release brought it to fruition in a moment. Knowing nothing but the wave of ecstasy beginning to spasm through his body, Benedict needed to stabilize himself before he jettisoned off of the earth. His hands fell to Sophie’s shoulders and gripped tight, smearing her in a rainbow of fingerprints as he dropped his head with a cry. Painting her in two ways at once, his breath escaped in halting gasps as she milked him onto her chest. 

Sophie never stopped her movements, coaxing him through the aftershocks. When Benedict fell to his knees before her panting, she grinned with devilish victory. She was just as capable of reducing him to a breathless mess as he could her. It made her feel closer to him, more trusted, and more desirable.

“Sophie,” Benedict marveled at her, barely able to muster words. “I’m sorry. Your shoulders…”

He pointed at the streaks that ran across her skin. She looked down and saw the epaulets she had earned. Bright ornaments of sinful endeavors. The fingerprints of her lover seared into her for all to see. The whole room was twinkling in a dazzling spectrum before her eyes and she felt honored to be made a part of it. With a twist of her lips she collected the palette he had dropped nearby and dipped her fingers into a sky blue shade, then swiped it gently across his abdomen, coloring him as well.

Benedict looked at her quizzically, then she ran a purple thumb across his jaw. Catching on, he wet his fingers in forest green and brushed them across her cheeks. Giggling, Sophie next took a daub of orange and swirled it in circles across her chest, blending it with his seed, painting herself with his essence. Benedict swallowed hard, dumbfounded, and then found himself moving like a man possessed, stripping her of her remaining clothing, hauling her up onto the settee and burying his face between her legs. 

The day progressed as a gauzy fantasy, the two of them wrapped in intoxicated wonder and all the sensations they could gift each other. They lost count of their climaxes, Sophie returning time and time again to swallow Benedict and bob her head until he gasped her name, and Benedict on his knees in equal measure, sucking her furiously as she bounced against his tongue. After the poetry they penned with their moans, they broke to make art with their flesh, painting arcs, swirls and handprints across skin, gradients of desire and whimsy, blending with their own juices, traces of themselves ending up on the canvas which had clattered to the floor.

Hours later as the sun began to set, they found themselves looking like madmen, wrapped in sheets, disheveled and covered in streaks of paint from head to toe. Benedict had the presence of mind to wrap Sophie in one of his shirts and hide her in the bedroom next door while he donned a robe and called for a bath. He didn’t much care what the maids thought of seeing him smeared with paint with his hair standing on end. It wouldn’t be the first time he had ended up like this after a dose of the powder.

Working together and casting him sideways glances, Finian and Lizzie brought a large copper tub to his room and filled it with steaming water. Lizzie scented it with oil and a sudsy soap that left bubbles floating on the surface. When they finally exited, Benedict collected Sophie again and locked the door behind them. She giggled helplessly while he stripped her of what little she was wearing and helped her step into the steaming water. She shivered and sank down, allowing the water to rise above her shoulders and neck, even right up to her nose, and then closed her eyes. It felt like heaven.

“Lean forward,” Benedict murmured, kneeling on the floor beside her. She did, and sighed with pleasure as he began to wash her back, making clouds of red and yellow paint swirl into the water. 

“We’ll make you all shiny and new again,” he grinned, kissing her shoulder as he scrubbed her arms. Sophie leaned forward and rested her forehead on her bent knees, blushing.

“Dunk your head so I can wash your hair,” he ordered.

She slid under the water, a magical, enveloping sensation while she still felt the fuzzy influence of the tea, and then quickly came back up. 

The green streaks of paint on her cheeks started to run down the length of her face. But rather than make her look wretched, Benedict thought it gave her a phantasmal beauty. It made her eyes glow as he had never seen them - glittering emeralds refracting all the light in the room. He rubbed the paint from her face with his thumb as she held his gaze. He suddenly found that it was hard to breathe. Probably a side effect of the tea. 

He busied himself by rubbing the bar of soap in his hands and then began to work the lather through her hair. “Do you prefer your hair short?” he asked.

“I had to cut it,” she said. “I sold it to a wigmaker.”

She wasn’t sure, but she thought she might have heard him growl.

“It used to be much shorter,” she added.

“Back under.” 

She dunked back in the tub, swirling her head this way and that under the water before coming back up for air. 

Benedict cupped his hands and filled them with water. “You’ve still got some in the back,” he said, letting the water pour over her hair.

Sophie let him repeat the process a few times, until all the paint was removed as far as she could tell and the water had turned a milky purple. “Aren’t you coming in?” She raised an eyebrow and was met with that cheeky lopsided grin.

Benedict let his robe fall to the floor and stepped in across from her. He groaned with pleasure as he lowered himself, immediately dunking under the water and smoothing back his hair. Sophie took the cloth and went to work scrubbing his fingers, his arms, every inch of him. Their incessant giggling was fading into pleasurable hums and sighs as they caressed each other in the water, gently, curiously. They kissed each other’s necks, arms, foreheads. There was a chastity to it despite that they were fully nude together after an outrageously lascivious afternoon.

Sophie was drained. It had been without a doubt the wildest and most exploratory day of her life thus far. She knew she was still under the giddy haze of the tea but her senses were growing sharper. Time slowly seemed to be returning to its normal rate and her mind was quieting. The last of its effects, the joy of being with Benedict, and the warmth of the lapping water made her euphoric. Benedict had leaned back against his end of the tub, eyes closed. Sophie couldn't stretch out her legs underwater without awkwardly laying on top of him, so she planted her feet to frame his head which made him look up and chuckle. She grinned and bent an elbow over the side, resting her head on her arms. Benedict ran his hands lazily over her knees and the two of them sat in contented silence, descending from their high and soaking up all the heat the water could offer.

Benedict stared at Sophie, resting serenely as glinting water droplets ran across her collarbone. She was dazzling. Never a word that he had thought to associate with a housemaid but it was truly how he felt. Where in the world had she come from? This beautiful, daring and exciting woman whose wit, moods, pleasures and interests so perfectly aligned with his own? He genuinely wondered if she had worked in the Cavender house at all and wasn’t some faerie that had wandered out of the woods to enchant him. These days alone with her in the country had been some of the happiest he had experienced with a woman. He was ready to find her an apartment in London, to send her there with an allowance to buy anything she fancied, and to have all of her servant’s clothes burned. He could do it tomorrow. She shouldn’t spend another day working for his family.

“Why do you want to keep working at this ball?” He asked her.

Sophie lifted her head, brow furrowed. “So I can earn some money.”

Benedict sat up and leaned toward her. “You don’t need to earn money. I’ll take care of you.” He pressed his torso against hers and murmured, “I can give you whatever you want.”

Whether it was her pride or some courage gifted to her by the tea, Sophie felt no fear in being honest with him. “I don’t want you to.” Her voice was more stern than she had intended and he scowled. 

“Why can’t we just stay like this? Have this time together?” She nuzzled against his neck and planted a soft kiss on his lips. This was everything she wanted, or at least everything that she could reasonably have with Benedict. She would never experience her dreams of marrying him, or walking on his arm in public, or being with him forever. But she could have these days, weeks or even months if she were lucky, where they enjoyed each other’s company and bodies, and she was grateful for it. Incredibly grateful. It wasn’t perfect, but it was closer to her dreams than she could have ever imagined over the past two years. She would cherish these days forever, but she refused to hinge her hopes or her future on them, when they would never lead to anything.

“I don’t want to be kept somewhere,” she confessed. “Locked in a pretty box for you to play with.”

Benedict pulled back, looking insulted. “Why?”

Sophie sighed, overcome with the weight of her emotions and a wave of approaching sleep. “Because it can’t last forever and I will need work to fall back on.” She rested her head back on her arms and closed her eyes. “You must tell me once you find her,” she sighed.

Benedict looked at her, startled. Find who? Surely she didn’t know about…

As if reading his mind Sophie continued, mumbling. “The woman you will marry. So that I will know to leave. Promise me, Ben.” Her head lolled as she drifted off, her last words barely above a whisper. “I cannot share you.”

Something in Benedict’s chest clenched and again he found himself struggling to breathe. Suddenly the thought of not having Sophie around was unsettling. More unsettling than it should have been for having known her such a short time. She didn’t want to share him with his wife. Did she mean to reveal that to him or did it slip out? He couldn’t tell how it made him feel. Once again he knew she was right. He doubted he could sustain a life as a bachelor chasing after a maid who refused to be kept as a mistress. He would need to marry. Hell, a part of him wanted to marry. It was who that was the problem. He couldn’t find the lady in silver but knew that if he ever did and if she would have him, he would marry her and then there would be no room for Sophie. It made him sad and it made him confused and he was so damned tired. So he resigned himself to following Sophie’s lead and just enjoying the time they had together, for however long it lasted.

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