#Yes My Sun and My Moon are in my au with the bone boys

[crowsworks]

You are running from your past and meet Sun and Moon. But can you escape the troubled past you tried so hard in vain to leave behind?

[hierba-picante]

HI, HELLO, I'M COMING TO DROP QUESTIONS AND RUN!

Your pony-fied Moon! Does he do contortion?

For the older sibling au: What songs were you thinking of for the DCA to play? Do they serenade the older sibling?? Also when Sun and Moon learn that Gregory is related to Y/N, do a lot of things about them suddenly make more sense?

-normal-about-the-dca

Hi hi!! Yes pony Moon does do contortion! How he doesn't break his pony bones-- I don't know! But boy does he love pretending to be a pretzel! A few songs I have in mind as of now are-- The Platters: Twilight Time, Bobby Vee: The Night Has A Thousand Eyes, The Del-Vikings: Come And Go With Me, Frankie Valli and The Four Season: Ronnie, The Beatles: I Want To Hold Your Hand, The Turtles: Eleanor, The Beach Boys: Be True To Your School, The Penguins: Earth Angel, Paul Anka: Put Your Head On My Shoulder- I have many more in mind, but these were the ones I kept listening to today!! Sun and Moon would play guitar and bass! There's I think 2 or 3 songs in the list that are from the 60's so-- I'll keep the DCAs' range at that! 50s-60s music! :D As for them reacting to y/n being Gregory's older sibling- I'd imagine they're horrified at first. But! Once they get to know y/n better, they can't help but feel dumb at all the similarities that went over their heads! One similarity is y/n's clumsiness- they always have a band aid on somewhere, or their quick wit at comebacks! That's probably their favorite!! :] I can't wait to have more time to finish up drawings andfanfic to share with you guys!! This au has given me more reason and fun with drawing and writing! The most I've had in a while!! :]]

[fallenasleepyetagain]

Baby - Dream/Blue Fic

Media: Undertale AUs/UTMV

Genres: Established relationship, romance, domestic, cuddlin, talking about the future, talking about children, dialogue heavy (these bitches never shut up), human AU

Characters: Dream, Blue, King Nightmare (mentioned), Cross (mentioned), Reaper (mentioned. technically lol)

Pairing(s): Blue/Dream

CW/TW: Mentions of broken bones and near death experiences, talking about mortality and death, a single suggestive innuendo

Word Count: 1810 Words

“Dream…? Are you awake?” Blue asked softly, turning on his side to face the guardian that was in bed with him. He wasn’t sure why he had bothered asking, considering the sun wasn’t down and Dream didn’t pass out until the moon had broken over the horizon. It was almost impressive when it happened. Dream could go from being wide awake to passing out asleep in under a few seconds, sometimes mid sentence, mid conversation. It didn’t matter how hard he tried to stay up, his instincts just took over and made him pass out. He always got up at the crack of dawn as well, which Blue didn’t mind as long as he wasn’t woken up. Blue often wondered about it, had he always done that before all of the apple shit went down or what is a new development?

A question for another time, perhaps.

The bed squeaked under Dream as he turned over, groaning. Blue couldn’t help but rake his gaze up and down Dream’s chest. Dream wasn’t extremely muscular, not like Cross was, hoo-boy, what a hunk that royal guardsman was, but he was toned, and Blue loved pressing his lips against his upper chest and collarbone. He also loved looking at him, his eyes were always drawn to Dream, no matter the situation, or what he was wearing.

“Did you make me roll over just to perv on me?” Dream whispered, an eyebrow raised as he ran a hand through Blue’s brown curls.

“N-No!”

“Mmmhmmm.” Dream pulled Blue close by his hips, wrapping his arms around him. Blue melted into the touch. Dream was warm, and he could feel himself wanting to drift off into slumber. “Did ya’ just want to cuddle? You know I’m more than happy to do that for you.”

“No, well I mean, yes, cuddles always, but no?”

“...Is it yes or is it no, B? It can’t be both. That goes against the English language, I think.”

Blue huffed, reluctantly pushing away from Dream so they could be face to face. He met Dream’s golden eyes, and smiled. Dream was absolutely gorgeous, in every sense of the word. How had he gotten so lucky? What did he do to deserve someone so kind and so handsome? He reached his hand out, pushing a portion of Dream’s hair back into his silk bonnet.

“Thanks.”

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“If it’s philosophical I’m going to sleep.”

“It’s not!” Blue laughed, allowing Dream to intertwine their fingers. He averted his eyes, burying the bottom of his face into his scarf. “Would you…um.”

Dream pushed back Blue’s bangs, “I won’t judge, just get it out.”

“Would you ever want to have kids…?”

There was a bout of silence, Dream’s eyes widening as he sat up in bed. Blue followed him, heart pittering in his chest.

“Kids?” Dream asked, raising an eyebrow. He wasn’t upset, that much Blue could tell. He set the covers down by his hips, revealing his bare chest to the chill, night air. On the other hand, Blue kept the blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

“Mhm.” Blue shrunk away into his scarf, his fingers fidgeting with the end of it with his hands. “I’ve just…been thinking about it lately.”

“Having kids?”

“I guess so.” Blue met eyes with Dream, whose body language was completely relaxed. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Dream hummed, putting his arms back against the mattress, and leaning back. “Yeah…I, uh, I suppose I’ve never really thought about it before. Not even sure I can have kids. Does the immortality ‘n shit cancel it out or…? I mean, I couldn’t even get you pregnant even if I wanted to because-”

“I think you misunderstood me!” Blue sputtered, slamming a hand over Dream’s mouth. Blood rushed to his cheeks as he let go, flustered at Dream’s sly smile. Any smile of his was enough to send Blue’s heart into a frenzy, before Dream gestured with his hand to elaborate.

“I’m not talking about like, the, ahem, ‘logistics’ of it all. I mean like…raising kids. Would you ever be interested in raising a kid? Ever? Biological or otherwise.”

“Mmm…” Dream hummed, itching the side of his neck as he thought. “I mean maybe. Like I said, I never really thought about it, but I could probably be convinced. Obviously not right now, but maybe when Nightmare is off of our asses, we could for sure talk about it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I guess I’m not really passionate either way.” His hands pawed through Blue’s hair, playing with his frizzy curls. “I like interacting with kids, they’re funny as shit, but I don’t know if…I’d be able to raise one well, y’know what I mean?”

“But you’d be willing to think about it.”

“I would.” Dream pushed Blue’s bangs out of his eyes, getting slightly closer. “Why do you ask? Do you want kids?”

“I think so.” Blue murmured softly, falling back against his pillow, hands neatly folded on his stomach. Dream crashed back as well, laying on his side, his head being held up in his palm. “I-I mean…there’s a lot I want to do. I just don’t think I have the time to do it.”

“Of course you have time.”

“Eighty years.” Blue whispered, turning his head to face Dream. “Maybe less. We both know that’s not a lot. Plus, who knows when Reaper will decide my time is up…”

“He won’t take you because I’ll beat him up the moment he tries.” Dream said as he cracked his knuckles. 

Blue cracked into a smile as he laughed, playfully hitting Dream’s shoulder. “No you will not!”

“How much are you willing to bet?”

“Quit it.”

“Fine.” He touched Blue’s cheek as his face fell back into its neutral state. “What do you want to do with your life?”

“Huh?” Blue paused, “Oh! Oh, um. I want to help people, protect them. But, I guess my worry is can I do that and raise a kid? A kid is an investment, well they’re a person, but you know what I mean, I’d hate to…neglect them in some way.”

Dream caressed Blue’s cheek, rubbing it with his thumb. “As if you could ever do that, accidentally or not.”

“It could happen.” Blue whispered, looking up at the ceiling. “Most people who do it don’t do it intentionally. And if I’m working to help other people all the time…”

“B, listen to me. You could never neglect anything, even if you tried. You wanna know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you are too full of love, you adore everything and anything around you. To even think about neglecting something, a kid, a pet, or whatever, would kill you. You could never.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. And I also know that you can do both because it's not like you’ll be raising a kid by yourself. I’ll be right there with you.” Dream spoke, pressing a kiss against his forehead. He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated, instead deciding to bury his face into Blue’s shoulder. “You can do both. You can do anything you wanna. I’ll help you do it.”

Blue gently nuzzled their heads together, his body relaxing into Dream’s. “Thanks Dream…what about you?”

“What about me?”

“What do you want to do with your life?” Blue asked, running his thumb slowly over Dream’s arm. “Or, at least, this part of it.”

There was a moment of silence as Dream thought about it. He wrapped his arms around Blue’s waist, pulling him close. His hands slowly ran up and down Blue’s hips, slipping underneath his shirt to feel his skin. “Isn’t it obvious? I want to spend it with you.”

Once more, Blue found his cheeks coated in blush. He was surprised that he wasn’t always as red as a tomato. He shifted his own hands to rest on Dream’s torso, feeling his warmth. “Really? With me?”

“Yep. I want to be there to support you in whatever you do. Whether it’s…I dunno, being a hero, raising babies, I don’t care. What I want is to just…be there. With you.”

“Aww…” Blue murmured, pressing his lips against Dream’s cheeks. “Even when I’m old and wrinkly?”

“‘Course. Y’know, sometimes I…” Dream sighed, squeezing Blue’s hips. “Sometimes I wish I could, I dunno, grow old with you.”

“I know you do.” It took a moment of pulling to get Dream to detach from his waist, but he managed to hold his hand, his thumb pressing into the base of Dream’s palm. “But…let’s not think about that yet. We’ve still got time.”

“Right, right. Yeah. We do.”

“Would you prefer adoption or surrogacy?”

“Heh?”

“For a kid!”

“Oh!” Dream blew out some air, rubbing his thumb on Blue’s wrist as he thought. “I dunno. There are always kids looking to get adopted, but with our lack of documents that might be hard.”

Blue had forgotten. He would probably need records or something of his existence to adopt a child and both he and Dream didn’t have them due to their circumstances. He scowled at the ceiling, cursing the Multiverse and it’s weird bullshit.

“We could have a test tube baby. That’d get rid of all of the semantics considering we know people who know us and would be willing to do it, no questions asked.”

“We do?”

“Yeah. You remember when Cross broke your rib cage?”

“How could I forget?” Blue grimaced, putting his head into Dream’s shoulder. He didn't think he would ever forget, considering the massive scar left on his chest from the surgery that kept him alive.

“Well, those super high-tech guys who fixed you up could make us a test tube baby.”

“They could…” Blue murmured, “But why would they? They’re always busy with other super futuristic projects.”

“Seeing how the DNA of an immortal and a mortal combine would be a pretty interesting science experiment..”

“That’s true.” Blue looked up at Dream for the first time in a hot second, and smiled apologetically when he saw the exhausted look on Dream’s face. “Thanks for indulging me.”

“Always.”

“You can head to sleep now.” Blue said as he pressed a kiss to Dream’s forehead, snuggling closer into his body. Their arms wrapped around each other, sharing heat and closeness. “...Dream, you know, I-

“Uh, Dream?” Blue opened his eyes and a small smile grew on his face. Dream’s eyes were closed shut, his breathing rhythmic as he slept. Blue craned his neck to see outside the window, and he wasn’t at all surprised to see the top of the moon slowly rising over the horizon. He pressed another kiss to Dream’s face, relishing in everything the guardian had to offer. His own eyes slowly shut as drowsiness washed over him like a heavy blanket.

“I love you.” He whispered like a prayer into the night before falling asleep.

[jess-themess05]

I posted 901 times in 2022

That's 901 more posts than 2021!

117 posts created (13%)

784 posts reblogged (87%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@theohnocorral

@basyacriptid

@lovelymoonmagic

@ice-reblogs

I tagged 778 of my posts in 2022

Only 14% of my posts had no tags

#fnaf sun - 186 posts

#fnaf security breach - 179 posts

#fnaf daycare attendant - 167 posts

#fnaf moon - 159 posts

#fnaf - 123 posts

#beloved mutuals - 69 posts

#mutual shenanigans - 63 posts

#fnaf security breach au - 48 posts

#fnaf au - 38 posts

#fnaf eclipse - 34 posts

Longest Tag: 127 characters

#despite probably putting the fear of god in everyone who came across you admitting to have drunk fire starter and sulfuric acid

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

tehehe yes spider lmao

Actually im shoked I didn't saw anyone draw him like that before, bc he is litteraly

CREATUR CRAWLING ON WALLS AND HIS WIRE IS LITTERALY LIKE SPIDER WEB!!!

hmm

checks out.

53 notes - Posted October 27, 2022

#4

oh hey a finished art piece

wow would ya look at that

in case you’ve never heard of this fanfic tHIS

this is the bug love fanfic! by @theohnocorral respectfully

this is just my interpretation of him, but of course he has a more official design hehe

my next plan of action is moon man!! he’s a gosh darn moth :)

extras down below!

See the full post

141 notes - Posted September 23, 2022

#3

See the full post

398 notes - Posted September 10, 2022

#2

Favorite fics?

oh geez. i’m gonna try keep it sweet and simple less i go on and make it unbearable to read. also these summaries are gonna be terrible but i think all of these are gonna be fnaf sun and moon fics i’m SORRY ITS IN MY HEAD BUT ANYWAYS- SHORT N SWEET LES GO

A Dose of Sunshine and Starlight - @give-me-your-monsters a slow burn w/ lots of angst and bittersweet-ness aww but you are all mentally ill.

Bug Love - @theohnocorral the boys are now bug-ified gods and take a liking to a mortal who probably apologies to inanimate objects

Universal Jesters - @lovelymoonmagic you accidentally become the handler to pair of bots with memory loss and mystery trauma

it was, in reality, not fine - @bones-of-a-rabbit you, the reader, have the self preservation skills as a bowl of soup. also oblivious to love hehe

Late Night to Early Morning - Loyal_Backstabber reader meets neglected robot clowns and vows to risk their life for them

Solar Lunacy - @bamsara its- ITS SOLAR LUNACY. anyways you meet certified murder robots and say i can fix em, they’re gonna fix u too.

copper cogs rusted through - @paper-lilypie “oh what’s this, one of these jesters tried killing me? eh it’s fine” then you fall in love

Rotating Shifts - LightningTriceratops protag mistakes sun for unconscious, jaundice ridden man and realizes he’s a robot with a not dead brother and separation anxiety

basically ANYTHINGGG by @naffeclipse , but the first story i ever read from them was In Deep Dreams Between the Waves very different fro, eclipse in sleuth jesters cause he’s actually decent. (also poor vanessa girl don’t get a break)

Clowning Around - EngageSage you overcome your anxiety to protect a poor jester, and are fueled by spite to fuck up moon man for being a certified bitch

Celestial hearts in a purple mind - @kabra-malvada *finds ominous object* *touches it* *is shocked to find they are possessed*

Twin Animatronics With Too Much Time on Their Hands - @twinanimatronics & @dana-chan-the-control-brain you fall in love and fight the temptation to resurrect a dead dude and kill him again

The Night Shift - @certified-handler oopsie you now work with a needy jester who sweeps you off your feet, even more oopsie he turns into a psychopath when the lights go out and triple oopsie you fall in love with HIM too

Star Crossed Souls - @faz-friendly-light-up-shoes reader said “god give me a sign i’ll find love.” gets the sign, and ignores it

404: Personal Space Not Found - CrazedAuthor anxiety filled individual thinks they will be fixed by a child supervisor, gets surprised by his stab happy twin

Celestial Syzygy - @echoingkarma you’re like the jack of all trades, including befriending animatronics who may or may not hate you (and want to maim you) you are probably underpaid.

My Neighbor Mr. Roboto - @kagedbird oh what’s this? you think moving into your new apartment will be simple and boring? WRONG there’s a robot in your closet. and everywhere- why are there so many-

Apology Flowers and Blooming Hours - @daunsun you’d think sentient flowers would have no angsty backstory huh? well actually...

Our Orbit is Elliptical - @sycopomp like your intrusive thoughts came to life, and you choose to ignore them

Lost and Found - SmolShampoo technology is so cool right guys? you got ai, and that ai can get traumatized! how cool??

Stare at the Abyss; It Might Look Back - @characcoon reader becomes a human punching bag and finds new rusty robot roommates. once they escape a deteriorating child’s play place they walked into

Ventura Highway - @madamemiz says “hey is anyone gonna take this robot?” and doesn’t wait for an answer.

Repaired Unstable - @blonde-fraumell you decide to work alongside your childhood friend! oh how non threatening he was- hey why’s this man TEN FEET TALL. and why’s this other man so kickable.

also, obligatory mer may fics! even though it’s no longer may these are still being updated :D

Luminescent Charm - @finfiprince reader finds the fishy dudes they saved as a kid in a cage, continues to spite god until they can save them

Celestial Omens (that really like Fishsticks) - @bamsara (again yes) you save two scared bastard fish and feed them in your bathroom, a decade later they see u and go “well they gave us fishsticks no drowning for them”

See the full post

441 notes - Posted October 8, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

guess who made one of those ask game things :] yknow cause why not

you know the drill

10,538 notes - Posted October 17, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

hey look it’s

it’s the thing!

i forgot i had this in my drafts

[rosebudded]

falling (fallen) bakugou katsuki / reader

angst, soulmate au (kinda), character death, chapter 362 spoilers

he is a piece of your soul

ao3

a/n: yes, it is vague purple prose, but it’s mostly to sort my thoughts out... depending on where mha’s story goes i might write a follow-up?

you felt it then.

like an arrow through the heart.

a rolling clap of thunder, lighting beneath your skin.

stars blossom behind your eyelids, a night sky you get lost in. the tips of your fingers brush against their chest, scarred but alive.

i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry. you’re just a boy too.

then a light. brighter than the moon, brighter than the sun. warm and smiling. almost close enough to touch but just out of your grasp. always ahead.

i’ll get stronger. enough to beat you.

there is a heat that builds and builds and builds in your chest, through your skull, through your spine, through your ribs. electricity in your veins, nerves igniting.

it splits you open. 

and you fall.

a heaving gasp, like your first breath after nearly drowning. your body, flat on your back, lurches; a hand reaching towards the ceiling and eyes staring blankly at the fluorescent lights above.

tears slip down your cheeks. a raw, grief-stricken sob leaves your lips and your hand drops to clutch at your chest.

there’s an ache deep in the marrow of your bones, in your heart, in your soul.

you feel like you’ve lost something.

you never got to say goodbye.

[heavenlyheesire]

in a world of boys, he’s a gentleman

WHO : bf!heeseung x fem!reader

GENRE : fluff, established relationship, shopping!au, suggestive (if you squint)

SYNOPSIS : in which you and your boyfriend decide to go shopping and somehow end up at victoria’s secret

WC : 2328 words

˗ˏˋ  ur listening to :: TAYLOR SWIFT's "slut!" ˎˊ˗

1:26 ————————•——————— -3:00

♪ everyone wants him, that was my crime, the wrong place at the right time, and i break down then he's pulling me in, in a world of boys, he's a gentleman ♪

You wake up, feeling relaxed and ready to start the day. The night before was intense, seeing as your lovely boyfriend, Heeseung, had given you immense pleasure beyond belief. Lying in bed, mind wondering about the plans for the day, you peeked out of the curtains. It was a sunny day, the sky bright and full of joy - a perfect day for retail therapy; although, retail therapy isn’t as fun alone as it is with great company. A loud noise sounded, pulling you out of your thoughts. After a few seconds of searching, you grab your phone bringing it to your ear. 

“Hello?” you say sleepily. A chuckle rings from the phone, “hi little siren, how was your sleep?” Smiling at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, you answer, “it was good, slept like a baby.” Heeseung smiles even though you can’t see him, “I’m glad my love, we had a long night… but say what do you think about doing a little damage to our wallets today?” Picking at a lint on your lilac sheets, you ponder “by that, do you mean your wallet Seung?” He scoffs and lets out a breath, “nooooo… yes, I am not letting you spend a dime whenever you’re with me, ever.” You whine, “Heeseung~, you know it makes me feel bad whenever you pay for everything, especially since you never let me pay you back.” There was silence for a moment, before he sighs out loud, “bun, it IS fine, it’s my pleasure to make sure you don’t have to worry about something as silly as money, your presence is all I ask for in return.” With a frown, you ask, “are you sure? I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of your kindness.” You hear shuffling on his end of the line followed by the sound of his bed springing under him, “you’re mine and I take care of what belongs to me, plus what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t buy you everything your heart longed and desired for?” The words you had wanted to say died in your throat, unable to say a thing. Lost for words you decided it was better to remain quiet than answer and potentially start an argument. “Mmmh, that’s what I thought. I’m coming to get you in thirty, so be ready by then” he sternly said. You laugh at his tone of voice, “yes sir, bye-bye.” Hanging up the call, you get out of bed and straight to getting ready. 

A knock on the door startles you out of your daydreams and back to reality. As you near the entrance to your apartment, a girly voice starts, “housekeeping!!” Opening the door, you see Heeseung with a boyish smile on his face and a bouquet of baby’s breath. “You ready little siren?” he says handing you the flowers. You grab them and nod a yes “thank you, they’re beautiful, let me just put these in water, grab my purse and we can be on our way.” He smiles and nods a little. The silence gives you time to collect your thoughts and calm your nerves. 

There was nothing to be worried about when it came to Heeseung. He was everything you didn’t know you needed. He was the moon to your sun, the stars to your sky, the cream to your latte. You were always in awe of him; his kind heart, his loving nature, his selflessness, everything that he was made you fall even more in love with him. On the other hand, all those wonderful qualities made you a little nervous from time to time. Heeseung was this perfect human being with no bad bone in his body and you were just plan ordinary you. Although that wasn’t bad at all, sometimes you just wondered why he chose you out of all the beautiful women in this world. But that was another thing for another day. 

You walk out of your room, purse in hand, ready to spend the day with your favorite boy. “Okay I’m ready Seung” you call out making your way to the door. Heeseung jogs over, grabbing the door handle before you get the chance to, “after you, my lady.” Blushing at his actions, you grab his hand swinging your hands, and walk to his car together. 

Busy. That was the one word going through both your and Heeseung’s heads the moment you got to the mall. It was good to finally be spending time with your boyfriend even if it would be surrounded by hundreds of people. Pulling Heeseung along with you, you guys walked from store to store just enjoying each other’s company. 

After two hours of walking and shopping together, you stopped to rest on a bench. “You seriously didn’t have to buy me everything I touched” you say towards Heeseung. He shakes his head in response, “yes I did, you deserve everything.” Unable to look at him because of how flustered you got, you look in the opposite direction of him. Unbeknownst to Heeseung, he follows your eyesight and sees the bright pink sign: Victoria’s Secret. Thoughts start swirling in his mind, going from zero to a hundred very fast. You suddenly gasp, “oh my God, I completely forgot I need new panties and pajamas.” Heeseung starts coughing and looks away, afraid you’ll catch on to his sudden panic. “Come on bub, let’s go! You can help me pick them out too” you excitedly say, getting up from the bench. He hesitantly stands up and follows you into the excessively pink store shyly. 

Drawers of underwear, racks of bras, rows of lingerie, it was all too much for Heeseung’s mind. He couldn’t help but imagine you in every lace, satin, and mesh piece that landed in his sight. It took everything in him not to drag you back to his car and claim you as his like he had the night before. You usher him to the fitting rooms with all the clothing in your arms dragging him out of his daydreams. He waits outside of your room for a couple of minutes before you open the door and show him a satin black set, “what do you think?” You give him a little twirl and smile, hoping he loves it as much as you do. He nods, words seeming to get lost in his head, “I, it-it’s good, I like it.” Smiling, you walk back into the room and try on the next set. Heeseung lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He’s seen you in many types of clothing from corsets to micro-skirts to mini dresses, but nothing will ever compare to how you look in just your panties and bra. Heeseung had always believed there was beauty in simplicity… then he met you and further proved his point. You could wear a trash bag and Heeseung would think you were the epitome of beauty, the very definition of the word itself. To him, you are the reason why the phrase “beauty & grace” exists. 

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, you open the door again and show him a lacey lilac set, “how about this one? Thought I could get one in your favorite color.” Eyes wide and mouth hung open, Heeseung stares without saying a word. You chuckle and your cheeks turn a bright shade of pink similar to the dressing room walls, “Seungie, close your mouth before you catch a fly with it.” Heeseung shakes his head and looks you up and down with a dazed look on his face. Shy all of a sudden, you hide behind the door, hoping Heeseung will say anything at this point. “Uh-huh, don’t hide from me, I wanna stare at you a little bit longer” he frantically rushes out. You look up at him while whispering, “so you like this one?” He gives you a confused look, “like this one? Little siren, I LOVE this one. I am absolutely buying you this. For sure.” Blushing at him again, you back up into the room before Heeseung stops you, “wait, I saw a dress and I’d like to see it on you if that’s okay with you.” You mouth okay and close the door while you wait for your boyfriend to return. 

Knocking startles you for a second time today. “Bun, it’s me” Heeseung excitedly whispers through the door. You crack it open just enough for him to hand you the dress without anyone seeing your gorgeous body. After the door is fully closed, you hang it on the hook and step back to see it in its full glory. The dress is a midnight blue color with gold suns and silver moons embroidered throughout the fabric. In awe of the piece, you stare at it for a good minute before trying it on. You stared at yourself in the mirror before going to show the man that you love. Opening the door to see Heeseung standing with his hands in his pocket, he looked up and his eyes practically popped out of his head. Laughing a little bit at his reaction, he walks to you and grabs your waist, facing you toward the mirror. He stares at you through the mirror, rubs his face on your neck, and asks, “may I confess something to you, my little siren?” You look at him while smiling and nod. He clears his throat and continues, “I've had a crush on you ever since I can remember. It’s weird. I never thought I could feel like this, but you showed up. Now, it’s like I don’t wanna go on knowing I might lose the feeling.” Your eyes soften and you cup your lover’s cheek, bringing his face towards yours, “I love you more than words can express.” 

Finally, you press your lips to his in a soft, delicate kiss. Kisses with Heeseung always had you weak in the knees, but something about this time was different. Maybe it was the way Heeseung held your waist tighter, pushing you closer to his body, or the way you felt blood rushing through your veins, making you feel warm all over. Whatever it was, you never wanted to pull apart from his gentle, feathery lips. Heeseung leans away to let air into your lungs and rests his head on your forehead as best as he can. Heavily breathing, Heeseung pecks your lips and whispers against them, “has anyone told you you’re quite amazing at this?” You shake your head and laugh “I’m pretty sure you said something similar to me last night.” He thinks out loud, “oh yeah I did, huh?” You nod at him for the billionth time today and smile at his antics. 

Moments like these always made you want to stop time so it could just be the two of you in this world, relishing in each other’s warmth. Heeseung grabs your hand and spins you around. With a nod, he says “we’re so getting everything, hurry up and get changed, darling.” He walks out the door to give you your privacy, but not without giving your cute butt a little slap. 

In line to pay for your things, Heeseung tries to convince you to get perfume, but you successfully refuse his offer. “Oh come on, it’ll make you even more sexier” he tries to persuade. You stand your ground, “no, you’ve already bought me enough today.” He pouts, sad you wouldn’t let him treat you to the finer things in life. You give him a kiss on the cheek, hoping it’ll cheer him up and thankfully he smiles down at you, giving you a peck on the lips. 

“Next customer please!!” 

You walk to the cashier, your items in hand and your boyfriend in tow. “Hi, did you find everything okay?” the cashier questions. Content, you answer “yes we did.” She hums happily “that’s good, that’ll be 195.69$. Will it be cash or card?” Heeseung steps in front of you, “it’ll be card.” You huff quietly and decide to keep your thoughts to yourself. The lady looks up and says “you have a good one, don’t let him go.” Snickering, you tell her “oh trust me, I won’t.” She hands you the bag and you’re on your way back to Heeseung’s car. 

Heeseung puts your bags into the truck and jogs to open your door, “your Majesty.” Eyes wide, you grab his hand and get into the car, “why thank you, kind sir.” Slamming the door closed, he runs to his side and slides into his seat. Once you’re both situated and comfortable, he opens his phone and hands it to you, “put some music on little siren.” Delighted to obligate his request, you take the phone from his hand and think of what to put on. A couple of seconds fly by before the idea came to you and you cheerfully type in the song. “Slut!” by Taylor Swift blasts through Heeseung’s stereo and he smiles at you. Knowing you’re a Swiftie who always plays her music whenever you’re together, he’s gotten to know some of the songs although this one wasn’t very familiar to him. 

You’re vibing along to the music when you turn toward him and sing “in a world of boys, YOU’RE a gentleman.” You give him a light kiss on the cheek so as not to disturb his driving. Heeseung blushes and turns to give you a smile in return. He turns the music down just a little bit to disclose “I love you so much” making you shy and hide in your sweater paws. As he drives into the sunset and as the sun dips below the horizon, he couldn’t help but think the girl of his dreams, who was sitting right beside him, her beauty outdid any of God’s creations herself. 

hope you had an angelic time & drown in heaven again soon !!

© heavenlyheesire ..

[chasani]

Kirby Roommates AU

Under read more as to not bother mutuals with long post

So in this world they all live together in the same contained area. Sure, there's a volcano over there. Sure, there's a snow mountain over there. But you need phenomenal cosmic power to travel there

I've had multiple ideas for the layout. Originally I had the idea they would all stay in one area boys in boys dorms and girls in girls dorm. Then I thought what about a whole section of dorms for the boys and a section for the girls, divided by a connecting lunchroom in the middle.

Now I've decided on (and yes girls and boy can and will be in the same dorm) soley because I wanted to put Marx, Magolor, Susie, and Taranza in a room together because of my one au where they live on the Lor Starcutter floating through space. So there's a dining room, the dorm rooms, the doors to the games, and the robotic version of Nova.

Let me elaborate, not everyone became a human. Or, let's say:

While Nova has a human form, they also have a small cat form and a robotic (gorey) lion like form (big cat).

As for why there's a robotic Nova? It's where the Milky Way Wishes (Kirby Super Star) cast lives!

It's a world where it's always 'night', 1 day there in 1 hour in the 'real world'. There's a latch on Nova that opens connecting the two.

When closed, they have there respective times and areas. When open, what would basically be a realistic version of the hollow form of Nova is there, pitch dark and with the walls. But ones the hatch closed that area is basically gone.

When I explained who lived there, I only specified the game.

The occupants consist of Marx, Sun, Moon, the 'Power Stars', and Nova

The power stars have phenomenal cosmic power, as well as the rest of the group, I'll gives names associated to the seven colors later.

Before you ask, 'Wait the sun and moon?'

The ones in the 'real world' are 'artifical' and basically if the sun and moon were to go to the 'real world' and they fought the 'artifical' sun and moon would basically act how they did in Milky Way Wishes.

For another thing, Marx lives in the, let's call it, Dream World

If Marx lives in the Dream World, then how can he be roommates with the others?

It's because he was assigned that room but it's too painful for him to stay.

Marx has the two forms:

Normal, which is his normal human form (but squinty eyes, they can never go back to full round unless the world is spell cast and reset)

Demon, same thing wings, eyes, you name it

Human and Demon appear Day and Night, forcefully. It causes pain to which as the wings are made from his bones so basically all his insides are reorganized.

So, solution? Real world when it's night and go to the Dream World other times

That's about 16 days in the dream world for about 8 hours in the real world, yeesh

If he's always in the night he wouldn't have to pain the transition between them

He's basically noctural, and even when he comes out it's only to sleep or eat, doesn't really interact with the others, they didn't even know he was there. They didn't know about the Nova hatch until robo Nova broke and the MWW cast escaped

Oh btw if one of the cosmo stars does leave Nova, the whole of Nova (Robo) and the Dreamworld will collapse.

That's the elaboration on that

Now elaboration on the General Dorm Area:

Kirby and Metaknight supervise

The dorms don't have bathrooms themselves, there are shower and bathrooms outside (separating boys and girl respectively, almost like a school layout but more dorms and different)

They had to take practice for these new human forms

They rarely go to their games, usually only for emergencies

I might post about this more, or design out about the main cast

Please ask questions! I'd love to answer and explain more on things I wouldn't even think to explain!

[sashi-ya]

Oh my sweet goddess, need to request you for the hottest ace x Yamato ff so far

<3<3<3

Hi my dear @thebigkitto here I am with your request, still in time for Yamato's birthday. I hope you enjoy!! 💖

🔥 NSFW ~ Yamato x Portgas D. Ace ~ Stay

tw: Afab Yamato, he/him pronouns. oral, vag, rough. marking. fluffy and angsty.

a/n: first time writing for this pairing. I love love this ship! I think they could have been so perfect for each other. I love them so much!. Of course, the AU is in universe during Ace's Wano visit.

wc: 1.4K

~ 💖 Happy birthday Yams!! 💖 ~

A moon so bright over them, shines its light and covers their skins with a silver brilliant rain. Red cheeks, both of them a little bit drunk. Foreheads pressed, smiling, and laughing. There are no worries, not tonight. At least for a couple of hours. The freckled fire boy has come to brighten up the days of the white hair man. The freckled boy is as hot and bright as the Sun, lending his light to make the moon boy shine.

They have fought, they have become friends shortly after. And in between nights of laughter and alcohol, the boy with heavy shackles found love, and passion, and kisses. He didn’t know what kisses were, he didn’t know what hugs were. But what he did know was that his Sun suffered the consequences of having a father, just like him. Two sweet souls hurt by a pure genetic course...

Ace’s lips feel so soft every time they kiss Yamato’s lips. Yamato loves Ace’s freckles; he plays with his fingers over them like a “connect the dots'' game. “Ace, your freckles look like the stars in the sky” he whispers. Ace genuinely smiles, a soft and loving smile. He bends softly over, kissing him once again. Gently pushing Yamato’s back against the rock where they are sitting, Ace takes his orange hat off and puts it to the side. Black wavy locks framing his face. Gaze fixed on his lover.

Yamato’s long hair all around his face, making him look like a white angel. So handsome and innocent. Ace slowly slides his yukata off, exposing just his shoulders. White skin, milky flesh that shines so bright under the moon, so tempting… Ace bends forward and places soft pecks over them.

“You have a cute little mole here” he whispers with his lips still over Yamato’s skin. “I do?”. “Yes. I have the same one”. And his lips slowly trace a sweet trail of kisses down his chest. Ace stays a few minutes in between Yamato’s breasts, he loves his lover’s scent. He loves how his soft skin feels over his cheeks. Yamato grazes Ace’s hair as he rests over his chest. Is this love? he wonders to himself.

Ace keeps moving, and as he does Yamato’s clothes little by little stop covering his anatomy. His belly spasms when Ace collar’s red beads graze his flesh. Wet smooches going down. The tip of the freckled boy’s tongue traces circles around his belly button.

Untied the cord that holds Yamato’s shimo, it softly slides down from his hip bones. Down, down it goes. And as it goes down, Ace's nose grazes every single inch of his pelvis bone. Sex exposed, so wet and ready for his lover. Ace bites the inside of his thighs, marking his teeth on his flesh, leaving Yamato purple prints of his pace.

Yamato squirms every time the freckled pirate breathes closer to his entrance. His throbbing sex, so needy for his lover, his oni nature slowly but surely taking over his body. And with the slightest touch, Yamato is about to become a demon. And Ace knows it, and Ace wants it.

The user of the Mera Mera no Mi uses his fingers to separate Yamato’s entrance, his tongue slowly reaches and tastes the sweet honeys of his lover. Delighted by the ambrosial taste, his tongue plays up and down and around, devouring, licking, sucking. Yamato’s long legs rest over Ace’s shoulder as the pirate kneels and lifts his lover's hips up. Yamato’s huge breasts trapped by his strong arms.

The Zoan white wolf pants, whines, moans, and grunts. His eyes thrown back, yellowish shine on them. He bites his lip as Ace acts miracles with his mouth. And because it’s not enough, Ace includes his fingers. Already warmed up by the power of his devil fruit, it feels so hot inside when his walls stretch. A beckoning motion inside, hitting a special spot, a magical spot inside him, that Yamato didn’t know he had until Ace appeared. And Yamato comes, and he does it hard. Probably the whole Wano Kuni heard him moaning Ace’s name under a velvety night sky, under the moon shine.

Ace lets Yamato’s legs softly on the ground, smiling and wiping his arousal liquids from his mouth with the back of his hand. The oni looks at him, trembling, still coming back from ecstasy yet hungry for more, so much more…

“Ace, take your shorts off and come here” he sweetly commands, calling his lover up to his chest. Ace smiles, he knows what’s coming, and Yamato is gonna give him one of his favorite things ever.

The fire boy quickly undresses himself and crawls up to Yamato’s chest. Dripping precum, hard dick ready to receive all the love from his lover. Yamato plays with the tip first, index finger forming strings with Ace’s wetness. Index finger he takes to his mouth, salty blessed elixir he will devour soon, but not yet. Yamato presses his boobs together, trapping Ace’s dick in between them. The pirate’s hips go back and forth, fucking himself with the inside of the Oni’s breasts. Yamato sticks his tongue out, so the tip of Ace’s dick hits his taste buds.

“Open” Ace mumbles in between panting and sweating. “Aaah” Yamato opens his mouth big so Ace’s dick could fit inside such wet cave. And he sucks the tip, he sucks and licks. And Ace’s abs spasm as he grabs Yamato’s horns for a better grip. Both fixing their gazes, Yamato smiling with one of his cheeks stretched by Ace’s dick. Sloppy eyelids and trembling lips from Ace as he moves his lover’s head back and forth.

Ace’s whole body spasms, Yamato can feel how his dick becomes even hard and pulsating inside his mouth. Ace is ready to come, and Yamato is ready to receive his blessed seed. “I… I can’t anymore” he stutters. Yamato’s nails carved into Ace’s tanned small of his back as he waits for him to come. And he does. And his sweet release not only floods Yamato’s mouth but also bathes his chest with it. Ace grunts and pants. “Yams…” he mumbles. “Yams… I…fuck…”.

Ace falls to the side, both of them looking at the moon. His panting slowly returns to a normal breathing as he plays with white and blue strands of his lover’s hair. And there is absolutely no time to waste, both of them want more. So much more.

The making out session starts once again, violating tongues on each other’s mouth. Wet kisses, moans muffled by their lips. Pulling hair and biting lips, Yamato ends up straddling his hips over Ace’s crotch. He moves back and forth, frotting his core against Ace’s still sensitive sex. Back and forth, tip looking for an entrance to penetrate, mixing arousal fluids. So wet and hard, so warm and sexy.

“Yams, let me fuck you”. “Fuck me, Ace. Fuck me now”

And Yamato stands up a little, just enough so Ace could grab his dick and guide it inside him. He sits over, allowing his walls to stretch as the freckled boy member crawls inside his core. He humps, Ace buckles his hips up following Yamato’s motions.

The second division commander enjoys a spectacle only Yamato’s perfection could give to him. As he jumps, his huge breasts jump with him. He unties his hair, allowing beautiful white and blue strands to fall over his shoulders. The moon behind him makes the view as exquisite as a work of art, as a painting. Even better, so perfect not even a museum could have it.

Yamato’s fingers interlock with Ace’s, as he goes up and down faster and harder. Up and down and back and forth, grazing his pleasure button against his lover's skin. Feral fucking under the moon shine, they look like demons. Demons in love with a connection so deep and profound. Perhaps a connection that was meant to be since forever.

Ace grunts, Yamato moans.

Hiken no Ace’s hands squeezing the flesh of the Son of Kaido’s hip. Bodies so ready to release themselves. And that’s exactly what they do. Yamato bends over Ace, his breasts suffocating him. Ace, so happy he could die, gives him the last thrusts that take his lovers to paradise. And they come, trembling, eyes fixed. Fire mixed with pure white instincts.

Both so full of the other, still feeling the electricity of the past orgasm. Side to side, in rapture, in love with the other. “Yams… I… I don’t wanna leave. I wanna stay here forever with you” Ace whispers, kissing Yamato’s forehead.

“Stay” he whispers.

“Stay with me and help me free this land. And then, just then, make me… free”.

[seacottons]

—ateez as boyfriends [ domestic au ]

notes: swearing. suggestive dialogue. fluff. i blame a certain someone for this, not gonna say who. @kireiwoo

— hongjoong

very caring and attentive towards you

so much so, that even his friends have complained how it isn't fair he doesn't scold you like the way he does to them

he enjoys many activities with you, such as

helping him dye his hair an ungodly color every other month

he'll insist you try experimenting with your own tresses

but you only have the courage to dye the very ends of your strands

"i don't think i can pull off that color as well as you do," you'd say.

"that's a load of bull. you'll suit every hair color."

you'll just roll your eyes playfully at his biased behavior.

other activities include getting tiny matching tattoos together.

the tiny flower and butterfly on your wrists was most likely your favorite due to its simplicity in design and the meaning behind it as well.

spontaneous dates are his favorite.

behind closed doors, he loves to constantly shower you with pecks and smooches.

often gets teased by his friends from how whipped he is for you.

randomly books vacations for you two to relax and unwind every so often.

although he enjoys it, he is a big, tired baby when it comes to traveling

always wanting to lean his head against your shoulder

or cuddling you close for warmth due to the airport's air conditioners blasting frigid air.

has written many songs about you

and when he's finally ready, he'll not only ask you to listen to them, but to also spend the rest of your life with him and share his last name as well.

— seonghwa

constant pet names

"darling."

"the sun to my stars."

"the moon to my sun."

"love of my life."

you like to call him mars, mostly.

but he revels when you call him 'twinkle eyes' for some reason.

has a habit of pulling you into his lap.

you'll subconsciously play with the strands of his hair as he does so, him being too distracted bickering with his friends to realize sometimes.

will always give you pleading looks whenever wooyoung or san tease him.

sometimes, you walk in to find wooyoung settling onto your boyfriend's back while he greedily devours the bowl of popcorn entirely by himself.

or other times when both wooyoung and san constrict his limbs with their arms whenever you're near.

"y/n can't save you now, so cut the whining."

you'll only sigh and shake your head in amusement.

"what are you guys doing to my poor boyfriend?"

"he changed the movie we were watching without our permission!"

"because i have no damn clue what's going on, and harry potter is too confusing!"

coffee dates.

loves to sleep with you tucked against his chest.

always has an arm draped around your frame.

butterfly kisses on your neck.

soft touches against the small of your back and waist.

his favorite pastime with you would be stargazing.

"baby, look. it's me, mars-io," he'd say whilst pointing up to the large, bright star in the night sky.

when it's too cloudy outside, or when the weather isn't forgiving, he'll turn on the indoor star projector he bought so the two of you can stargaze in the comfort of your own bed.

— yunho

is the epitome of romantic.

is constantly smothering you in love and affection.

always has heart eyes and admiration in his eyes at whatever small task you do or say.

rant about an ancient dynasty?

heart eyes.

bombard him with useless information about a certain abandoned island.

heart eyes.

gush about the new cute bakery that recently opened up?

heart eyes.

if you had a money jar for every time he says 'i love you', you'd have enough money to buy a plane ticket or two.

always willing to drop everything to help you with whatever it is you need.

will wake up in the middle of the night when you text him to ask if he's awake or not.

willingly stays up to keep you company.

but sometimes, when he's too tired, he'll knock out accidentally and profusely apologize to you in the morning.

very supportive of your life choices.

hates seeing you cry because it makes him want to bawl his eyes out as well.

his hugs are bone-crushing.

but he is a gentle giant nonetheless.

likes to attempt to bake pastries with you.

half of the time, the goods either turn out undercooked or burnt.

"they have love in them, that's all that matters."

will always insist that you can rant to him about anything and everything.

you've never felt so valued in your life before meeting him.

is the most understanding human being you've ever gotten the pleasure of knowing.

"i wish we were vampires," he says one day.

you give him an amused look, lips outstretched into a smile, "why, silly?"

"so we can spend an eternity together."

— yeosang

his heart flutters when you notice the smallest things he does.

it makes him feel appreciated and acknowledged.

like when he changes up his hairstyle or earrings.

or when he wears a new sweater.

a big, big softie when it comes to you.

can and will want to spend all day in your arms on his days off.

quick witted and has a knack for noticing the tiniest detail.

very shy and awkward at first.

but when he gets more comfortable as time passes on, you won't be safe from his snarky little comments anymore.

will constantly bring up the thing you said or did months ago to prove a point.

"oh, you like this flavor? three months ago you told me it tasted like vomit."

"remember that time you woke up in a rush to get to work thinking you were late, only for me to drag you back inside because it was three in the fucking morning?"

you stop mid-chew and peer up from your plate of rice.

"your point, yeosang?"

"oh, nothing this time. i just wanted to tease you."

is the type to have a mid-life crisis when you can't decide on a restaurant.

"but i don't want to eat at the chicken place again," you'll whine.

"it's been thirty minutes, and you still haven't decided what you want!"

"you're rushing me!"

"y/n! just pick!"

loves to cuddle with you, especially in the colder months.

wraps a blanket around your frame and tugs you in closer against his chest.

pretends not to understand your jokes just to spite and tease you.

loves when you cling onto him.

his favorite pastime with you would be just walking around together at night and trying out different types of street food.

or even visiting any of the local beaches for a relaxing walk together.

— san

persistently keen about whenever you feel upset or down.

he reads you better than any open book.

sometimes, it scares you, but you appreciate how he's always so eagle-eyed about your behavior.

loves to hug your head.

you allow wooyoung to crash some of your dates with san sometimes.

other times, san will whine and tell him to go find his own date.

"if y/n accepted you as a boyfriend, then you should've disclosed that i'm part of the deal as well. buy one get one free."

"as what exactly?"

"the hot, clingy best friend."

will take numerous duck-faced selfies of himself because you think they're cute.

often times, he'll ask you to mirror his expression, only for him to press his lips against yours a second before his phone snaps the picture.

likes when you kiss his dimple.

"y/n! it looks like a crater from the amount of times you've kissed it."

he likes to tease you.

a lot.

touchy.

very touchy.

always has an arm around you.

rests his chin against your shoulders.

playfully smacks your rear when you're sassy with him.

or leans in to hold your jaw whilst whispering teasing words into your ear that has you becoming docile and bothered in mere seconds.

has you wrapped around his finger as much as you have him wrapped around your own.

likes to have weekly picnics with you at the park and admires all the dogs running about.

"i should bring byeol next week. maybe she'll like to play fetch too."

"i don't think that's a good idea.."

you often find him fast asleep holding onto a plushie for dear life whenever you're away.

you'll pull it away from his arms, causing him to stir awake groggily.

he'll stare in confusion as you throw the plushie aside, before pulling you in tighter as you wriggle into his arms.

"you're softer than shiber," he'll mumble sleepily against the crown of your head.

— mingi

mingi is sometimes self-conscious around the public eye and others, but when it comes to you, those layers of fear and insecurity get stripped away instantly.

doesn't mind being vulnerable with you.

he craves affection, adores it even, but is insecure about not being able to return it well enough for his liking.

likes when you give him attention.

easily gets jealous when someone else grabs your interest.

reassuring him 24/7.

"yes, mingi. you're the love of my life."

kissing his pouting lips for good measure.

the smallest of gestures has him a blushing mess.

even holding hands in public.

when he's not being a sentimental sap, he'll like teasing you lovingly.

"wow, you have this many photos of me in your phone?"

you'll scrutinize him in confusion.

"are you that obsessed with me, y/n?"

"mingi! you told me to take half of those photos of you!"

"oh, right. i forgot."

a silence weighs down onto the two of you.

"but would you have taken them if i never asked you to?"

constantly laughs about the things you say, although you don't think you're that funny.

always seeks your approval subconsciously.

will always shield you from the rain, playfully yelling at the droplets sometimes.

"you can't make y/n wet! only i can!"

"mingi! we are in public!"

wanted to go strawberry picking because he saw a celebrity try it out on instagram live.

accidentally steps on many berries though.

"it's okay, they'll just make another plant. i did them a favor."

brags about you like no tomorrow.

even for the tiniest, minuscule thing.

"oh, i've already tried the brand of ice cream. y/n always buys that for me."

"i don't need to pay all this money for a measly slice of cake. y/n's cakes are much better."

"no, wooyoung. i'm not jealous of your new shoes." he'll lightly pinch the boy's side, "y/n and i have already bought ourselves matching pairs."

"you two are so fucking cheesy, it hurts."

when he's not bragging about you, he's boasting about himself.

but if that's what helps him raise his confidence levels up, you'll gladly sit down hours on end listening to how he has more 'swag' and 'charisma' than all of his older friends combined.

— wooyoung

teases you like his life depends on it.

says you can't get enough of him, when in reality it's the other way around.

but you let him believe whatever he wants.

but deep down he just really gets satisfied with himself if he raises your mood and makes you smile.

especially when you're not having a great day.

uses way too many emojis when texting you.

"wooyoung, why am i saved as as 'clingy bug' on your contacts?"

he'll squawk indignantly and laugh awkwardly for a second.

"who told you this lie!?"

"seonghwa?"

always wants to show off your love in front of his friends.

"no, i don't want my early birthday gift now. wait until the others show up, and do it front of them."

"but why?"

"so everyone can see how much you love me. can you also cry for good measure?"

"absolutely not."

he enjoys the dates you have in his apartment the most.

the ones where he cooks for you and asks for your help, only for him to pester you about over-seasoning or undersalting something.

"okay, fine! we'll just order take out if it tastes that bad," you pout, flinging a small piece of onion on his face.

his head instantly snaps back to eye you judgingly, fist gripping the poor spatula.

"over my dead body."

"so, y/n. how does my plating look?"

"it's beautiful, wooyoung. you've outdone y-"

"what else is beautiful?" he demands, face leaning over the table to give you a knowing grin.

you shove a piece of meat and rice into his mouth, shrugging nonchalantly.

"me."

he deflates at your answer, spluttering pieces of rice onto your face.

"jung wooyoung, you slob!"

— jongho

is the type of boyfriend to stop you in the middle of the road to tie your shoe for you.

very charming and goofy in his own way.

takes pride in himself and his abilities to cater to your every whim and need.

even when you don't ask for his help.

aggressively opens jars for you when you struggle to pry them open.

"no one messes with my y/n."

"you're fussing at a jar of pickled radish, baby."

the type to cling close to you in public in fear of any of the bicyclists or pedestrians bumping into you and harming you in any way.

sometimes acts like you're made of glass.

while it's endearing occasionally, it is a bit suffocating at other times.

doesn't believe you when you say you're tough and don't need protection.

very selfless and willing to help you with anything you need.

never one to shy away from social gatherings with his friends, always pulling you along with him despite you being shy and clingy most of the night.

also a big tease.

when you help him hold down his legs for sit ups, he asks for a smooch.

pulls away from you when you try to kiss him.

and will laugh at your pouting face as he urges you to try once more.

"stop moving, i just want to kiss you!"

after numerous tries, he finally allows you ( you truly think you over-powered him though ) to kiss his cheeks or lips.

he then proceeds to squawk loudly in retaliation and playful disgust.

although he loves teasing you, when the game is flipped the other way, he'll be a shy mess of embarrassment.

"i don't mumble your name in my sleep."

"you always do, silly."

tucked underneath his macho exterior, you know he's prone to criticism and takes it to heart much more than he likes to show and admit.

so, whenever you get the chance, you always fulfill his need to be appreciated, loved, and taken care of.

is utterly and extremely protective of you.

"who just whistled at you?" he grumbles, "i'll break their jaw like an apple, you know i will."

[thatlongspringnight]

A Crown in Springtime (Jungkook x Fem!Reader)

summary: When Jungkook caught the eye of the queen that night, he didn’t realize just how much it would change his life for the better.

pairing: Jungkook x female Reader

genre: arranged marriage au, lust at first sight, romance

word count: 6.2k

❂ amorentia in spring

⁂ hosted by: professor amora through @bangtansorciere​

⤐  au type: daffodil

⤐  themes: spring, honeymoon

⤐  kinks: Edging ⤞ Praise ⤞ Cunninglus ⤞ Fingering ⤞ Handjob ⤞ Thigh Riding ⤞ Hair Pulling ⤞ Creampie ⤞ 

Jungkook is nervous, it bleeds into him like the cold of midwinter, a stark difference from the blossoms of early spring that surround him. Even now, in the sunshine of early morning, he shivers, nerves leaving him tense as he feigns calm, leaning back on the veranda as though nothing has changed, nothing is different, letting the sun soak into his bones. 

But everything has changed. He’s more tense now then he was a day ago, when he was kneeling at the ancient altar, handfasting himself to a woman he barely knew for life, for the hereafter too….And not just any woman. His liege, his queen...now his wife. His father had talked of nothing else for the last two months...since...since the betrothal. All he could speak on was the arrangement, brooking no talk or protest from him, nothing but smiling and acceptance. 

A savior - his father had called her, the queen their savior, rescuing them from poverty. 

“She chose you.” It had been repeated so many times, the idea that he should be grateful, grateful for this arranged marriage. He should be full of joy even, plucked from obscurity to marry her. But...but he doesn’t know her, he can’t wrap his mind around why she would pick him She could have anyone after all...so why him? 

Before the wedding...he could count the number of times he had seen her on one hand. A - A little older than him, a couple of years, maybe - he hadn’t known a world where she had not been queen. She had grown up with a crown on her head, a sword in her palm, and the shadow of a dynasty weighing on her shoulders. A child queen raised on tales of her ancestors, long dead, war and conquest. He...He had heard that she had been in want of a husband.

His father had even suggested his older brother, his heir - but never once had his name been mentioned. Not until....not until that night - two months ago, when - when she had smiled at him, eyes alight in mirth and something he didn’t have a name for yet, asking him to dance after a dinner.

They had gone to court for the winter celebration, and he had felt her eyes on him during the meal, offering her a soft smile, as - as was proper.

She’d asked him to dance, first - his thoughts repeated, an honor, one that had given him the warmth of her palm in his, her eyes trailing up his face.

“Your hair.” She had murmured, a hand going to play with the strands. “Blue like the ocean.” His own personal magic, how the fae had manifested in him. He wondered how it manifested in her…

Either way…was that why? Was that why she had picked him? Not even two days after, she had offered his father...and the deed had been done..all leading up to yesterday, kneeling at the altar, him bedecked in clothes woven of silver thread, blue sapphires dripping from them, from the crown she laid on his head. Joining him at the altar, covered in gold. He felt like the moon, lit only by her golden glow. 

Somehow, somehow he had made it through, repeating ancient vows that dipped magick into his blood, feeling their bond form as sure and strong as the rope that bound their hands. Somehow that day had faded to night, banquets and being whisked away - a honeymoon in the mountains - early spring blossoms filling the air with perfume. 

A honeymoon, but still - no bride. The thought alone is enough to stir something, a gentle sigh making him jolt. Her, he knows its her, he can feel it, looking up to meet her amused gaze. The - the queen, his queen, he dips his head, scrambling to sit properly, to bow…

At least until her fingertips press his forehead, stilling him instantly.

“No Need.” her voice still shocks him, calm and easy - sweet too - like the last drops of sap from a tapped tree at the end of winter. “Especially not here.” 

“....Not here?” 

“You haven’t noticed?” She smiles now, and it makes him feel warm. “We’re all alone. No one dares to interrupt their queen on her honeymoon.” He’s watching her, stepping to sit beside him, legs dangling like his were just moments before. 

“And...and if we weren’t alone?” He curses how slowly the words seem to come to him, trailing and trembling in her presence, but he can’t help it. His position feels uncertain, her husband, but what does that make him. He’s no king. 

“Then you’d only need to nod your head.” She hums, a hand lifting up, moving to block the light, to let the sun’s rays break between her fingertips. “You’re a prince now, anyway, my darling, people will be bowing to you.” She says it so easily, like it doesn’t alter his entire life. “But….between us.” She continues. “I’d like it to be different.” This is the most she’s ever spoken to him, and he finds himself entranced at her lips, the way she forms words. 

“Different?” He mumbles, barely aware he’s asked.

“Different, friends at least.” She tilts her head to look at him. “Maybe even more.”

“F-Friends?” he questions, eyes widening. “With me?” “Is that so odd?” She snorts. “To want to be friends with my husband?” “....No.” He answers after a moment. “Well  - just a little.” 

“At the end of the day, I’m just a normal girl, you know.” Words he doesn’t believe, not even for a moment. 

The day passes, the coolness of the morning fading to a gentle heat, and he learns - Jungkook learns about his wife. 

More than he’s bargained for.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that.” She pushes her own plate of food at him. “Here, eat up.” They are lounging again, on the veranda, which seems to be her favorite place, his too, where the breeze is gentle, and the flowers bloom so heavily nearby it smells like a garden. “It will get cold and you won’t want it.” Its a simple pronouncement, one that makes him pout. 

“How do you know?” He answers her, watching how her lips twitch into a smile. “Maybe i want it cold.” “As your Queen, I demand you eat.” That pronouncement is met with him grumbling, before he sits up, a look in his eyes that makes her raise an eyebrow. 

“Feed me then.” Jungkook demands, a petulant lilt to his voice, even as he tries to hide his smile.

“What?”

“Feed me.”He gives her a grin, one that makes her heart beat quicken, not that he knows, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Come on - “ He throws her words from before back in her face. “Feed me or else everything’s going to get cold.”

“What a baby.” The woman complains, not at all fooled by the sweet look on his face. “You’re not playing fair, Jungkook.” His name, whenever she says it, makes his stomach flutter with butterflies. Still, he doesn’t even pout at being called a baby, too triumphant at her shifting to face him, reaching to pick up a slice of meat, offering it to him. “Your highness.” She mocks, and he could only snicker, enjoying the taste on his tongue.

It is delicious.

“So good – its delicious.” The smile he shot her was enough to make the woman feel a brush of something she chose not to name. Damn this boy, damn him for making doing something so simple as eating so attractive.

 It made her want to tease him, and that made her smile, something he notices. “You – you gave in really easily.” Jungkook spoke after a moment of comfortable silence. She had, this woman who had led his people in war, had fed him just now, without much protest at all. “Maybe you can feed me every day.” Did he enjoy it? Yes, of course he did, but unfortunately for him, the words seemed to click something into place for her.

 “Oh, you want me to feed you every day?” The woman purred, managed to snag a bite of her own food before setting down her plate. The air shifts, a shiver coursing through him, the trees seeming to shiver too. “Tell me something, Jungkookie.”

“W-What?” He speaks, a bit of alarm on his face as she leaned over him, her body suddenly very close. “T-Tell you what?”

 “Ahh..” She settles herself close to him. So close, their shoulders touch, and when she leans over, their noses nearly brush. “Tell me, are you sure you want this every day?” This time, when she offers him food, he is slower to take it, his cheeks warm. It feels heady, being close to her like this, and he wonders if this intimacy will ever feel anything other than clandestine. “Jungkook, I asked you a question.”

 “Ngh.” The boy looked up, his nose brushing hers. “I – I wouldn’t mind.” He breathes. Her chest was too close to his face, and the skin she exposed…it was right there. His lips could brush her collarbones if he looks straight ahead. Suddenly a warm day felt blazing hot. “I – I’m thirsty – “ He managed to speak, unsure of how he even got his voice to work.

 “Thirsty?” A teacup was balanced in her hand in an instant, her hold graceful…almost delicate. “Tea, your highness?”

“Don’t call me that.” He protests. “I – you’re the Queen - I’m just - “ “You’re my husband.” She answers, offering him a sip. “Your highness is an appropriate title.” 

“But to you, I should just be Jungkook.” He answers her, and she can only smile. 

“Can I taste too?” its a shift in conversation, but Jungkook nods, assuming she’d just…take a drink from his cup – which is why his brain short circuits the moment the cup was pulled away, replaced by her lips.

 Cherry blossom tea is at first just a hint of salt – one that fades to a mellow sweetness, floral notes and plum. Jungkook thinks to himself. Those grounded musings lost at her lips. She is kissing him, and he is overwhelmed, the taste of her and the cherry blossom tea an all too dangerous combination for him, leaving him lightheaded. She is kissing him -  and he could have whined, the angle of their bodies meaning he couldn’t move his hands from the ground, or they’d both tumble over.

 And he didn’t want to lose the fierceness of her kiss -  her hands in his hair, tugging at the strands hard enough for him to whimper, the sound lost as her tongue explored his mouth, stealing the taste of tea from his lips.

 He is on fire, he is in bloom under her touch.

 And then she pulls away, panting against his lips, her own cheeks flushed.

 “I like it – the tea. Its good on its own…but its better tasting it on your lips, pretty boy.” Jungkook could faint.

 “I – y-you can’t just….you can’t just say things like that!”

“Do you need a moment?” She is stretching out like a cat in the sun. “We should make flower crowns next, my prince.” 

Jungkook truly looks like a fish out of water in that moment, his mouth opening and closing in shock, and She could’ve laughed at the blush high on his cheeks. She had got him right where she wanted him, he realizes. The lilt to her voice was teasing as she gives him a knowing smirk. “What’s wrong, Jungkook?” 

 “I-“ He gulps, unable to speak, the taste of salt and honey still strong on his tongue from their kiss. It is too much- she is too much. “A-Actually, my throat is still dry.” He clears his throat once, then twice as if he was trying to prove it to her. “I might n-need another drink...”

 “Well, that is a problem, isn’t it.” She tilts her head to the side in mock sympathy and he nods, almost a little too eagerly, giving it away.

 “It is, yes. Maybe- maybe you could help me drink again?”

 “Hmm, I could...but you also have two perfectly good hands to use so.” She shrugged. “That sounds more like a problem than a me problem.”

 “But maybe I’d rather use my hands for...other things.” He is trying to tempt her- and failing miserably as she barely spared him a second glance, too busy focusing on gathering the materials for the flower crowns, something that he wasn’t as interested in now as he had been before.

 “Well that’s good, seeing as you’ll need them to make your crown. What flowers did you want?”

Making flower crowns was relaxing – that is the thought after a few minutes, as he hummed softly, twisting the flowers around the ribbon, grinning as they connected. It was unconscious, he sways softly, humming under his breath. He used to make so many of them, for the whole court…and his father would always pick his over his brother’s…

 “Ugh – “ The frustrated sound from beside him, pulls him from his memories, and he pauses, listening softly to the woman’s grumbles. Glancing down, he finds a bit of a mess, and it made him grin – he didn’t want to say anything though – not wanting to break her focus – that is until she hissed through her teeth, the flowers literally bursting from their ribbon, scattering around her.

 “Gah – “She grimaces, and he laughs outright, her head whipping around at the sound, finding him already wearing his…

 And it was beautiful…of course.

 “Having some trouble– “

“Its not easy.” She huffs. “You must be cheating somehow.”

“I did not!” Jungkook protests. “I just have more experience is all  - “

“I can’t do it.” She straight up whines, and Jungkook grins, giggling in earnest, scooting closer to her. How was she so cute, struggling like this, gathering up her flowers. In this moment she is just a girl, and he is just a boy - He can’t help but be brave.

 “Here...”He croons,  reaching for her, pulling her closer so he can watch. “Let me teach you.” Only after does he realize how informal he’s being, shooting her a worried glance, only to be met by a little pout. 

 “I-I don’t need any help!” She curses under her breath, her stammer hardly hidden as she gives him a little glare. “I can do it!”

“Here.” His chin rested on her shoulder, hands gently taking hers in his. “You made your stems too short so they were harder to wrap.” Those flowers get set aside as he picks others from the pile. “These longer ones will work better.

 She was silent as she watched him manipulate her hands with his own, twisting the flowers so it entwined with the ribbon, the dyed material looking so good against his skin. 

 “...try?” The sudden baritone of his voice makes her jump.

 “What?”

 “I said, why don’t you try.” He has the gall to sound amused and she finds herself scowling at his grin. Even if she couldn’t see it- she felt it. “Let’s try to pay more attention when I’m teaching you, alright?”

 “Give me that.” She grabs the flower crown from him, ignoring the sound of his laugh, his body shaking next to her. Jungkook watches her, how she furrows her brows, grabbed another flower- daisies this time, and carefully winds it around the ribbon like he had showed her, focusing hard on her task.

She’s beautiful, he thinks to himself, wistful almost. Beautiful, and he’s hers. 

Beautiful, and wants him just as bad as he wants her - something he finds out the next morning, the veranda a place of more than just relaxing in the sunshine. 

“You should call me Noona.” Her voice is a purr against his ear, the kind that makes Jungkook shiver, tensing against her light touch. And it is like, fingers trailing his skin, delicate in the way they touch him, make him yearn for more...its...unexpected, how she makes him feel desirable and full of desire for her all at once. 

“N-Noona - “ He stammers, breath hitching at her fingertips parting the robe he’s wearing, dancing across his chest. “Ngh - you - “ “You’re so pretty.” She murmurs. “I wanna make you feel good.” He’s tensing at that, but the pit in his stomach is full of butterflies and aching, nothing like fear clinging to him now. “I don’t want you to regret...this...with me.” “This…?” he asks, confusion bleeding into his tone. “This...now?” “Now - and...our marriage.” She confesses, face dipping lower, lips ghosting across the juncture of his throat. “I want to make it worth it for you.” “Why is it worth it for you?” He wonders aloud. “I’m no one at all - “ “You’re magic itself.” She counters, and this time its a kiss against his neck, not just lips, this time her hand finds purchase on his chest, fingernails a dull scrap against his skin. It feels good, and he whines softly, adjusting to the feeling. “Beautiful, sweet - Strong.” She says, and she can feel his cheeks heat. “What, is it embarrassing to hear?” She sounds almost amused, blowing lightly at the strands of his hair, soft blue in the clear, cloudless sunshine.

“T-That - “ He nearly chokes on his own spit. “That - that’s taking it a little too far.” Its almost scolding. “How can you know that?’

“I want to know everything there is to know about you.” She answers. “And to show you all of me, too, if you...if you’ll let me.” 

“I want to...to see you.” He answers, honestly, after a moment. “You’re my wife after all, my bride.” There is a smile, hers, against his skin. 

“Such a good boy.” She praises, and he cannot help the pleased feeling under his skin, the way he nods, preening a little under her words. “Such a pretty, darling man.” Her hand, trailing lower, bringing new, ticklish feelings to his skin.

This type of affection wasn’t altogether new to him, romps with boys and girls in the stables up...up until recently, but this is different too, there is a feeling there he’s not used to, a longing coming from the woman that registers in his heart. 

He can feel her loneliness, the ache in her soul - and he wants to fill it as best he can. Maybe that’s what she had seen in him that night, that same feeling - deep in his heart - that deep alone that kept him up at night. 

So he kisses her, adjusting so he’s nearly in her lap, back to her chest, turning to catch her gaze. His lips meet hers and he sees her eyes widen, before his own shut, one of her hands coming to cup his cheek, thumb stroking idly against his skin. It’s sweet - soft, at least for a moment. But they’re both ravenous, he realizes, when it’s his hands that find purchase on the dainty silk robe that hid her form. Ravenous as she bites at his bottom lip, earning a whine, a whimper - when he looks up again, there is something molten in her gaze, and in his stomach. 

He wants her, and - 

“Ngh -“ he muffles the sound of surprise in his throat as she shifts them, so now it’s her, legs parted on either side of his thigh, sitting with her hands pressed against his chest. “I - I -“ 

“You?” She asks, like she hasn’t put them in a compromising position, little smirk at her lips. “Cat got your tongue, Jungkook?” Her thumb parts his lips, delight on her face as he opens his mouth, lets her press it to his tongue. “I’d be glad to have your tongue on my kitten.” The slang is enough to make him sweat, heat prickling against his skin. 

He’s wearing too many clothes - even if all he’s in is a night robe, the mid morning sun has left him languid and warm, her touch has set fire to his skin - and her - so close to him, nose brushing at the skin of his cheek, coaxing him closer, mouth meeting his with more fervor, hands tangling in his hair. 

She’s pulling at the strands, drawing a whine from his lips as her hips rock forward, as his hands find purchase on her hips - registering what she’s doing before his mind catches up. 

“N-noona -“ it’s a moan as they part, him panting softly, him trying his best to capture her lips again, only for her to evade. “I want to kiss you.” 

“Do you?” She asks, a soft hum on her lips as she brushes them by his ear, earning a shiver. “Badly?” 

“Everywhere.” He’s feeling bolder now, straightening his posture so he can give her more - tensing the muscles of his thighs as she rocks - rewarded with a surprised, pleased little noise, even more at how he shifts her himself, across the strength of his thigh, exposed now. 

“Not worried we’re going to get caught?” She asks, met with beautiful, darkened eyes. 

“You said that I didn’t have to worry about anyone disturbing us.” He reminds. “Who’d dare interrupt their queen?” He mimics her voice from before, pleased when she laughs, when she grips lightly at his hair, tugging again just to make him whine.

“Brat.” But her tone is fond, like she’s seen him and found nothing displeasing in the least. “But you’re right, no one would dare.” She eyes him, noting the way his hands grip at her, eager to get her out of her clothes. “Don’t you try it.” She warns before he can act. “Seeing me naked is something that you’ll have to earn I’m afraid.” Even as she says that, her hand is grasping at the tie around his, her eyes meeting his own, seeking a silent permission he gives readily. 

The ribbon holding it closed is pulled away, her hand making contact with his lower stomach. Dipping lower, finding purchase on something that makes him hiss. 

“A-Ah - “ “Hard.” She poses, and its not a question, its an observation. He’s hard. “Pretty.” She tacks on. “Even your cock is pretty.” He feels like he could combust, head dropping to hid in the crook of her neck.

“N-Noona.” He whines. “Don’t say that.” 

“Come on, Jungkookie.” There is a note of challenge to her tone. “Are you just going to sit here while I touch your dick? Or are you going to help your wife, hm?  She glances at his hands on her hips, looking back up at him. 

Its enough, he’s back at it, biting his lip as she touches him, and her touch is light, light as she trails fingertips against the head of his cock, dips them down to grasp at him, pulling her hand away so she can lick her palm. He’s entranced, only shifting her hips because she told him to, entirely too focused on her damp palm meeting his skin again, dragging up, up, up.

But that’s not the only sensation. Its her, rutting against his thigh when he’s not fast enough, thumbing at his tip. He is conscious of his moans, soft and eager, and that’s about it, overwhelmed with the feeling.

“N-Noona - “ “Beautiful.” She answers him, and he can feel her - her essence against his skin, he’s flustered. “Lazy.” She teases and he whines, this time actually dragging her against his thigh. Again, then again, over and over - movements faltering as her drag up his skin sped up.

It - it was so hard to focus - 

“I-It would be easier if I was inside you.” He finally counters, words catching up with his thoughts - and that gets a reaction, her thighs clamping around his, her movement stuttering. “If y-you let me - “ “Already at the business of begetting heirs?” her palm slips from him and he whimpers. “Not yet, if you want it, I need it first.” She warns. She doesn’t mind being selfish, he already knows - and he doesn’t mind it either. 

“Then let me give it to you.” He’s pulling away, eyeing her. “Let me - let me worship you, on my knees, since you’re my...my queen - my wife.” and he is on his knees, already, something that clearly pleases her.

“Worship me?” She asks, perching up on her hands, legs stretched out in front of her. “You mean between my thighs, where you belong, right?” His cock is still hard, she muses, still throbbing and leaking, and eager - but making him wait was good, bringing him close to the edge and then not letting him…

Perfect.

“Can I?” He asks again, needing more than that from her. “Please - “ “You should talk less.” She answers him. “You’re wasting time you could be worshipping me.” It spurs him forward, but she meets him halfway. He is pushed down, pulled forward, till his nose was brushing against her core, silk robe falling around exposed hips and soon enough her legs were resting on his shoulders, holding him in place. He looked up, finding her flushed, seemingly eager. 

“This – this is what you want?”

“Come on, Kookie –  You said you wanted to worship me, to be on your knees before me...So…why don’t you show me what that mouth does…besides teasing.”

 “Ngh -!” Jungkook flushes hard at the crude words that fall from her lips, his whole body uncomfortably hot. He wants to hide his face from her dark gaze but with the firm grip she had on his hair, he couldn’t move. Even then, he isn’t sure he could, trapped in her gaze the way he was. “V-Vulgar.”

 “I’m just telling you what I want, Jungkookie. You said you were going to….so do it.” The way she is looking at him makes that fire ignite in his blood again, a deep sense of desire and wanting.

 Because she is right. Jungkook wants to watch as she fell apart, her thighs trembling from around his head, his name like a prayer on her lips as her back arched with pleasure. 

 He wants nothing more.

 “Okay.” He murmurs, pressing sweet kisses to her thighs, intent on getting her just as hot as he felt. “You’re so wet for me, Noona.” Slowly, he ghosts his mouth over her core before going to press kisses to her other thigh, not missing the way she tensed and let out a little huff when he passed over her center.

 “I’d be wetter if you actually used your tongue on me.”

 “Maybe so.” He hums, letting his thumb brush over her clit, the corners of his lips twitching upwards at her soft whimper and he wonders if she tastes as sweet as the noises she makes, as sweet as the honey that he had tasted on her tongue earlier. Jungkook lets his gaze rest on hers before giving an experimental circle of his tongue on her clit, the woman jolting at the touch.

 “J-Jungkook-!“

 He doesn’t pause, his eyes still on hers as he wraps pretty lips around her pearl, giving a gentle suck, just to see how she’d react, a finger drawing over her entrance.

 Jungkook is not disappointed at her reaction, her hands falling free of his hair, digging into the wood of the veranda beneath her. She moans, a pleased – heady sound, her heels pressing into his back, pushing him closer and closer to her core. So – so she liked that, then,  Jungkook took note, returning to kitten licking at her.

 Don’t try to overwhelm her with the first thing you find she likes, take your time, savor her, till she’s aching with need - advice from his older brother about what to do with girls - he’d taken it, and it had always seemed to work. he took a breath, his warmth ghosting over her as he pressed his finger against her.

 “Noona – c-can – can I?” Jungkook asked, wanting to make sure.

 “Yes –! ngh – “ She tenses at the feeling of his finger. “F-Fuck… please – “ He slid a finger inside of her, the feeling making him whimper against her core. She – she was so warm, clenching around him...

 “O-Oh –“ He couldn’t help press his hips against the floor, searching for friction. How was it going to feel…buried inside of her, the hot, and wet and – and tight. He really was going to have to work her over now…because he doubted he was going to last very long at all. “Noona – you – you feel – so good.” Her thighs pressed against his face, and her head was tossed back.

 “More – Kookie – more, y-you can be more rough with me.” His name on her lips, the endearment not lost on him, spoken so fondly, with such need – Jungkook can’t help himself but give in to her desires. Sliding his finger out, till she whined at the empty feeling, this time her thrust two in, harder, teeth just lightly grazing her clit. If – if she wanted rough –

 “A-Ah! Jungkook!” the moan was sinful, and more of a cry, a shudder going through her as she tenses – “Ngh…ah..” He is thrusting his fingers into her, sitting up to press a kiss to her stomach, to bite lightly at her skin.

 “Noona – Noona – you’re driving me crazy –“ The boy pants, still rutting into the floor. “You – ngh – you sound so hot, I – I can’t – “

“Jungkook- “ Her voice sounds almost scolding. “Don’t – don’t you dare get yourself off.” He froze, not realizing she could tell.”

“B-But…But Noona –“ he whines, met with her hands in his hair again, pulling roughly.

 “No – you – you’re pleasuring me now. Just me.”

 Just her...

 Jungkook wanted to pout, to whine more at her scolding. It- it was hard to not lose himself over in the sound of her moans, the cry of his name falling from her lips. He couldn’t help that he wanted to be inside of her, actually inside of her- not just his fingers. To have her clenched tight around him.

 “J-Jungkook, move..” His wife gives a little wriggle of her hips, huffing at the stilling of his fingers. Brat. Trying to get off by himself- like she wouldn’t notice the shift of his hip and his soft whimpers against her skin. She gives him a cool look from his place between her legs. “Unless you want me to finish what you started on my own-“

 “N-No!” He blurted, his doe eyes wide at her implication. “No, Noona.” He repeated, slowly resuming his finger work, her shuddering in response. “Let- let me take care of you.” And then his mouth was on her again, sucking, licking, his fingers crooking inside of her- crooking his fingers to find that spot that’d make her see stars. He’d know just by the way-

 “A-Ah -“ Her grip on his hair tightened, holding him in place. “Ngh, K-Kookie, right- right there.” She moans. “D-Don’t you dare stop.” She could feel him smirk against her and honestly, she would’ve said something if it didn’t feel so fucking good, his tongue flattening against her clit before circling around the nub. She was close, she could feel it- that pleasure growing tight like a bow that was being strung. She was just about to fall until-

 Until-

 “S-Stop -!”

 Her gasp took him by surprise, her pulling him away from her immediately. Jungkook blinked up at her, confusion on his face. She had told him not to stop before... Had- had he done something wrong? “Noona...?”

 “C-Come here.” She shifts then, pulling him up to her so she could capture his lips with hers, tasting herself on his tongue. Her hands dropped to his waist, a whine in Jungkook’s throat, his hips bucking against her hand as she palms at him again, a whimper as she bites down on his lip.

 “Ngh, Noona, why...why’d you have me stop?” He felt his dick twitch in her hand and gods, he wishes he could feel her properly. “Y-You were close, a-ah, I could feel it.”

 “I was, you’re right.” Finally- finally, she moves, grasping his hand to put it against the tie of her robe.. “But if I’m going to cum...then I want to be doing it around your cock- not your fingers. I want you to see all of me.” That’s all he needs, pulling at it, undoing it - watching the silk slip from her shoulders, slowly exposing all of her.

She’s beautiful, but he already knows that. 

 “Jungkook.” Her voice is breathy, and her fingers traced patterns against the skin of his chest as he takes her in. “Kookie – you’re – you’re breathtaking.” He whines softly, hiding his face against her neck again, clearly flustered at her words.

“I -  I should be telling you that - “ He protests, but she is unabashed.  

“Jungkookie…” A hand dipped lower, finding purchase on his cock, swollen, pre-cum dripping.

 He is big. And even his dick was pretty, smooth and straight, with a gentle curve upward, She thinks wryly, wondering how physical perfection had managed to manifest itself so clearly in this man. Like every bit was crafted to draw a reaction from her, to make her long for him, yearn for him, need to have him.

She had known from the moment she’d seen him. 

“Noona- “ 

“I’m yours to take.” She answers the unspoken question, pulling him to her, till he is gripping at her hips, glad that he had something to hold onto so his hands wouldn’t shake, the pads of his fingers digging into her flesh as he shifted her hips upwards. Slowly, slowly, he sinks into her. Glad not to have to wait anymore, a whine on his lips at her heat that surrounds him and he feels her stiffen, her mouth dropping open into an ‘o’ of pleasure. “N-Noona -“

 She is hot and...and so tight around him, clenched like a vice, and he knows- Jungkook knows that he won’t be able to last very long.

 “Ngh-“ A gasp leaves her throat at him suddenly thrusting inside. “K-Kook -“

 “A-Ah, Noona, I- ngh, I can’t help it.” He leans forward, pressing kisses to her neck, her hands coming up to grip at his shoulders. “You- you feel so good.”

“Do i?” She asks, his reaction more than enough to clarify, hips setting a pace that seems to surprise her. “Ngh - you - you feel good too.” 

“A-And you’re beautiful.” Jungkook finally feels brave enough to say it. “I - I’m a little terrified of you, b-but I don’t regret this.” Its sweet, in its own way, and it makes her laugh.

“I hope you never do.” She is kissing him again. 

“W-What about you?” He asks after a moment. “Do you r-regret it?” “Never.” She answers against his lips. “Now, stop this idle worrying, let me feel your cum dripping out of me, instead.”

 “N-Noona – you – you can’t say that.” Jungkook works on steadying himself, methodical in his thrusts, her words echoing in his head. That thought – the feeling of her, he can’t help thrust as deep as he can, feeling her nails dig into his skin, her small pleasured sounds filling the air. He could feel her tense, like this, his name falling from her lips as she gripped at him.

 “K-Kookie – there – that’s it. Ngh – just like that.” She wasn’t shy under him, her legs wrapping around his narrow hips, drawing a soft groan from him.

 “It – ngh – feels too good.” Jungkook whines, only to have her pull him into a kiss…one he wasn’t sure was to silence her or himself. Whatever it was, it was messy, teeth and tongue and sounds of pleasure.

 But – but – he can feel it, that same feeling in his stomach, and he knew he needed to finish her, rewarded with her flat out moan, the loudest sound he had heard come from her, heady and high, when his fingers met her bud, breaking their messy kisses to toss her head back, a shudder coursing down her body.

 “J-Jungkook - !” There it is, the boy is triumphant, rubbing at her roughly – its what she wanted after all – still pounding into her, thrusts growing more and more sloppy with every move. He could feel her again – too, the way she tenses and tightens, but even in his triumph he couldn’t help the words on his lips.

 “Please, please – please Noona, please cum.” He is begging, his own mind hazy with pleasure. “Ngh – need you too…really bad.” He didn’t know what possessed him, slamming into her enough to make him wince, but it was enough.

 It was too much – the feeling of her falling apart, how tight she was, pulsing against him, too much – and he -and he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

He empties himself in her, feeling very much so like a bucket, tossed to the ground, water spilled. 

“I told you no one would catch us.” She speaks after his breath settles, idly playing with his hair. “My dear husband.” “Y-You - I’m...I’m happy.” His words don’t fit hers, but they do all at once, telling her directly what she wanted to know. “That you chose me to give a crown to.” 

“Your magic sang to mine.” is all she says in return, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Your loneliness called to mine, because you were always meant to be mine...and i was always meant to be yours.” 

[kinetic-elaboration]

October 2: Winter Soup

Felt pretty bad today and did not do any writing, or at least, no truly useful writing.

I did write this little thing, which is in the same universe as my Southern Gothic AU, devil’s gonna get me one of these days.

~800 words, written in about half an hour

*

Raven heads out first, early in the morning, and builds a bonfire in a cleared out space among the dead leaves in her back yard. The leaves are outlined with crisp new frost, which crunches beneath Raven's heels, and her breath fogs out in front of her in pale, slow-dissipating clouds. She claps her hands together to keep them warm. Last night, the first cold snap of the year crept through town, leaving behind icy patterns on the windows, kept the people shivering in their beds all night long. Now she feels it in her legs, first, freezing over her thighs, and on the delicate, bare skin over her cheekbones, and at the tips of ears and on her nose.

She builds up the fire with chopped logs, then sticks, and then she sets up the iron frame above it. The large black pot she did not build herself, but the frame she did. It is sturdy and strong. Raven likes to think of metal as her element; she is best with hearty materials, with the shining ores threading through rock, with iron and steel. But really she should say, as Monty always tells her, that her greatest affiliation is with the power of the earth.

So she feels it sometimes, on cold and quiet mornings like these. A single bird is chirping somewhere hidden overhead, so that this simple thread of sound seems to tie together everything below and the washed out blue-gray of the sky, the weak, pale warmth of the clouded sun above.

She hangs the pot above the fire with a heavy iron chain. Tests its strength with her hands. The pot is empty and clangs with a deep, hollow ring when she raps her knuckles against it.

Later, Jasper, Monty, and Octavia come, tramping around the house with their arms weighted down with supplies, hiding the birdsong beneath their heavy steps. The backyard does not seem as empty now, as if they are trailing with them the riot of growth, the persistence of objects that survive even the barren months, from her front yard. Bringing life and noise with them. Octavia carries Raven's work bench down from the porch. She cleans it off with meticulous care, covers it in cloth, and lets the boys arrange their food on it, according to their patterns. Jasper has a fine assortment of knives with him, Monty a sheaf of recipes in narrow, hand-written script.

Raven light a flame underneath the pot. It jumps up, a sudden whoosh of heat; it feels like power surging through her, grown heavy in her hands.

Her heels dug steady in the hard-packed dirt.

"This feels like such a cliche," Jasper jokes, some hours later, as he balances on Raven's work stool and stirs the contents of the pot slowly.

"Bubble, bubble," Octavia murmurs, from the work bench, as she examines different small containers of herbs. Raven would have thought this would be boring work for her. But she seems to understand the pace of it instinctively, though she claims not to care for some of the chants. Doesn't think it means a thing, she admits--still the exaggerated way she sighs is fond.

"Smells good though," Monty says, as if he hadn't heard her. He steps up next to Jasper, balancing with one foot. From where she sits, Raven can see the flames reflecting off the bottom of the pot, waxing orange-red and hot, and she can see the wafting curls of smoke obscuring her friends' faces, turning their cheeks and noses pink with warmth.

For a while now, she hasn't felt the cold herself, though when she claps her hands together, she notices the numbness in her fingers again. She cups her hands to her mouth and blows across her palms.

From across the table, Octavia is watching her.

"I never thought of you as much of a cook," she says.

"I'm not."

But she's aware without counting how many times Jasper stirs the contents of the pot, how many times clockwise and how many times the other way, and how the bitter smell of winter is overlaid now with the hearty smell of vegetables and roots and herbs, so that altogether she feels a perfect circle of time, everything of a piece--her heels digging in steady, the crunch of the frost.

Octavia Blake is still watching her, a small pile of green herbs in the palm of her hand. "I don't know about this," she says, an awful lot of confidence in her voice for not knowing. "But have you ever gone walking in a full moon?"

"Of course. Would you--in this weather?"

Deep threat of wind, cutting across skin. Would she wrap her arm around Octavia's waist, and feel every bit of sinew and muscle and bone, the mechanical, the human movements of each step?

Octavia arches her eyebrow.

"Yes, that's just right," Monty says, somewhere off to the side. "That's just right. That'll do."

[bymoonchild]

Get You The Moon (M)

Pairing | Taehyung x Reader Genre | Fluff, smut, angst / College!AU, enemies to lovers!AU, football!AU,  jock!Taehyung x student reporter!OC Warnings | Explicit language, sarcastic banter, dirty talk, blowjob, facefucking, eating out, cumplay, cum-dumpster, fingering, rough sex, slight dom!tae, spanking, degradation, unprotected sex, ass-pining, tae has the phattest ass and dick but wbk Summary | Life has its ways of fucking with you, but you know you’ve hit 50 feet below rock bottom after being tasked to do a profile feature on Kim Taehyung, the varsity football captain, for your school newspaper. Pure torment awaits you, but this is alongside glassy eyes, pink cheeks and conflicted feelings that you’ve never dared to imagine with the likes of the devil incarnate. Word count | 19.6k 

“What a surprise, you’re alive.”

It is exactly that fake enthusiasm and subtle mirthful nuance that’s too familiar to your liking that gives rise to the arch of your eyebrow. You don’t even need to look up at the owner of the voice to picture the shit-eating smirk that belongs to none other than your editor-in-chief-slash-best-friend, Min Yoongi. Such morbid greetings have been long established as an inside joke between the two of you due to the peculiar sense of humour that you two share.

This is just how he likes to start his mornings. Being the systematic person he is, he has his own morning routine in the newsroom. Regardless of the pile of work on his desk, he’ll first make a beeline for his first cup of coffee of the day, after which he will come sauntering your way to provoke you with his laundry list of snarky remarks – about work, being tired, being alive and dead, about how bureaucracy sucks, the negative sides of capitalism and what not. Well, you two share a deep-seated sense of misanthropy so albeit provocative, his laments are refreshing in the morning – a literal morning boost of positivity from negativity.

“Not for long buddy,” you shrug, looking up from your laptop and your eyes land on Yoongi, who looks just as dead.

“I barely slept last night – was busy rushing my essays. Essays, might I repeat. So it would be great if you don’t have much for me today, although I know you have a kink for torturing me.”

At this, the edges of his lips curl up and you instantly register the meaning behind the sinister smile: your impending doom.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I do have something for my most talented and gung-ho reporter and best friend.”

“Kindly elaborate,” you smile back acrimoniously, squinting your eyes in distrust.

“It involves a profile feature of a popular varsity athlete.”

An involuntary groan escapes your lips almost instantly. Athletes are the worst people to interview.

“That’s not even the worst part yet. As we’re celebrating the 50th anniversary of our publication this year, we’ll be doing a special spread on honorary members of the school, including club presidents, captains and valedictorians. Oh, which reminds me – maybe I should feature myself for being the most overworked Editor-In-Chief because this publication is sucking my entire soul, but anyway, I digress.”

He brings up his mug to his lips. It’s only 10am, but you wonder how many cups he has had, eyeing the pallor of his face.

“I’ve already assigned the other reporters their respective targets for the lack of a better word, and left the toughest nut for you to crack,” he grins smugly and that’s when it hits you.

Clocking you square in the face.

“Yoongi, no you didn—”

“Yoongi, yes,” his smirk widens at your aghast expression, “A profile feature on Kim Taehyung, for my most talented and hardworking reporter.”

Kim Taehyung.

Your biggest nemesis.

The boy who lives to torment you.  

Literally everyone in school and their mother (or their dog) knows him because 1) he’s quite a looker (he’s known for having a god damn symmetrical face and you’re honestly baffled and amazed at how people even took the time to check the degree of symmetry), 2) he’s the captain of the varsity football team (cue the huge hoo-ha about varsity captains), 3) he’s probably slept with everyone in school and their mother (okay, that’s an exaggeration, but he is a dumb fuckboy to the bone), and 4) he’s also the poster boy for the department of narcissistic and annoying fuckboys, star football player and all that jazz.

“What the fuck?”

You challenge the carefully hidden astonishment reflected in Yoongi’s eyes, disregarding how the other reporters in the newsroom have jumped in their seats at your abrupt outburst.

“You know I fucking hate him!”

Yoongi, per contra, does absolutely nothing to show the slightest of empathy, simply because he has none, and even finds the scowl on your face hilarious, “Which is exactly why you’re the perfect person for this story.”

“There must be someone else whom I can cover. Please, Yoongi – I really, really don’t want to take this up.”

“Listen,” he sighs, running his hand through his fingers and you know that signifies that his sigh is genuine, “As your friend, I’m really sorry that you’ve been assigned to this story, but there’s no one more suitable than you. No one does profiles as incredible as you. Look, you just need to follow him around for a week – observe how he is in class, what he does after class and how he performs on the field. I can promise that it won’t be that bad.”

You frown, “As my friend? Then… what about–”

You don’t miss the 180 change from his previous expression, the soft in his comforting smile replaced with a sneer that is all malign in a blink of an eye.

Panic starts to form a thick film in your throat.

Lowering his voice by two tones, he snarls, “As your Editor-In-Chief, I only have three words for you: suck it up. The journalism world is a dog-eat-dog world. You don’t and can’t choose your beats. What you can do is to go out there and come back with a story, or this newspaper is going to flop at your hands, along with your GPA.”

Such audacity.

You glare at him in disbelief, squinting your eyes at the sneer that’s still plastered on his face.

“As my friend,” you mimic, dragging each word, “Fuck you bitch.”

Sighing out loud with absolute disregard, you clench your fists to tamper down the vexation that threatens to escape your throat, “But for the sake of my GPA and this publication that is my precious baby, I’ll take this up. Very unwillingly though, I must add. But if he refuses to cooperate, he can suck my ass.”

“You have my seal of approval if you meant that literally.”

“Fuck off—”

“Anyways, you won’t need to worry about Tae. I contacted him just now – he’ll be expecting you at practice on Monday.”

You roll your eyes, “Tae? I can never understand how you two are close.”

He inches closer to taunt you further, “May I remind you that Tae and I literally grew up together in Daegu, so he’s like my little bro. Anyways, he also told me to tell you that he cannot wait to see you.”

Nose scrunched up in disgust, you groan out loud at the duality before you, before flipping your friend off and burying your head in your palms.

But as much as you hate to admit it, Yoongi’s right. You have to suck it up.

If doing this profile is the only way to save your GPA and the publication, to hell with your pride and Kim Taehyung. You’re going to do this story well and you’re going to make sure that nothing, absolutely nothing – including Kim Taehyung and his fuckboy antics – is going to fuck that up.

Not in this economy.

Building up to Monday aka the Big Day as what Yoongi calls it, while you refer to it as the Day You Die), Yoongi has left you very specific instructions for the profile feature, expecting you to find some easy way out of this. He normally leaves you on your own, knowing that you’d always return with a solid piece that he won’t be able to find anything to nit-pick on. But for this task, he has ordered you to follow the boy around for a whole damn week and expects you to submit your voice recordings for accurate transcription.

Right from the get-go, you can already deem this profile to be the most stressful and frustrating piece in your entire journalism career. In other words, it’s a sham. A popularity stunt. A hoax. An opportunity to give Kim Taehyung even more clout and undeserving commendation than what the resident fuckboy deserves.

The day you finish your story will the best day of your life because you won’t ever need to interact with the said boy ever again.

To say that you hate him would be an understatement – sure, hate is a strong emotion, yadda yadda yadda, but the cacophony of arrogance and smugness that radiates off him makes your face scrunch up in disdain whenever he’s around. Though you would never allow him to have such power over you, he has tormented you countless of times with his shameless flirting whenever he has the chance to, and by simply existing and being his annoying, putrid self. You really don’t know why Taehyung has taken a liking to teasing you and pushing your buttons, ever since Yoongi introduced the two of you two years ago.

The sun is dripping down on the soccer field with delicacy, casting its golden light on the grass patch when Coach blows the whistle from the sidelines. Right in the heart of the field, Number 6 springs into action on the field, shouting commands at his teammates who listen to him intently.

Indeed, there are many other guys running all over the field, decked in the same jersey, but you could instantly recognise the outline of Taehyung’s ass, your eyes fixated on how the fabric of his shorts hugs his lower half like a second skin. Much to your dismay, one of your thirsty friends had hooked up with Taehyung last Christmas and didn’t allow you to forget the details of his bomb dick game and the thickness of his ass, so it’s fair to say that you have a good gauge of how his ass looks like. Not that you take pride in that knowledge though.

A smug smirk plays on his lips when he scores another goal as he instinctively pumps his fist to the air. You observe how he proceeds to run around the field, high-fiving and patting his teammates to spur them on.

Being the captain of the precious varsity football team, Kim Taehyung naturally carries an aura of confidence, which easily moulds into palpable cockiness. He’s infuriatingly talented and thus, his big ego sadly, and he also doesn’t have much of a filter and says anything that comes to mind. You’ve come to a conclusion that his language is an unfortunate concatenation of sexual jokes, sarcastic taunts and indolent mischief.

As if having sensed your gaze, he cranes his neck in the midst of practice and shoots you a seemingly innocent grin when he spots you standing awkwardly at the sidelines, hugging your notebook like they’re a piece of armour shield. But you know that there is more to his smile than just innocence. Still maintaining eye contact with you, he grabs the hem of his shirt to dry the sweat on his forehead and smirks in satisfaction when your face drops disgruntledly.

After calling for a five, he jogs up to you, his smile unwavering. Behind him, his teammates have all huddled together, pretending to drink up and talk amongst each other, but their eyes are all glued on the interaction between you and their captain.

“My my, look who we have here. Isn’t it my favourite girl cheering me on during practice?”

Taehyung’s awful voice pierces your eardrums, thick with honey and mixed with some other cloyingly sweet substances.

Your annoyance reaches its peak level as your eyes narrow to slits when he stops right in front of you.

You could leave right this instance. In fact, you very much want to, but your conscience is holding you back. While you’ve contemplated smoking your way for the profile one too many times, you know that Yoongi, being the smart shit he is, would be able to see through it (and also, Taehyung might just snitch on you) and the mere thought of a disappointed Yoongi just bites you.

“Look,” you spit, facing him properly for the first time, “I’m here against my own will because I have a story to write and that’s the only reason why I am even here. So I would very much appreciate it if you could quit acting like a jerk and let me do my job so I can leave ASAP.”

You’ve never been this up-close with Taehyung before, not when all you ever focus on around him is putting on your bitchiest expression, coming up with spiteful retorts, or pretending that you didn’t see him in the hallway which is actually impossible because he comes for you like a plague.

“Sssh, did you hear that?”

“Huh—”

“That’s the sound of you begging for my help.”

A taunting smirk inches its way onto the edges of Taehyung’s lips and you want to sock him in the face and wipe it off his lips. Your glare seems to only spur it to grow wider, as if somehow your clear distaste for him is amusing to him.

“Going to fake a quote for me again?” He continues, the shit-eating grin never leaving his face.

“If you continue pissing me off, I just might.”

For your previous article which involved having to interact with Taehyung, he had refused to answer your questions properly, spouting nonsense and idiotic pickup lines that served of no value to your article. You just needed a one-liner from the egotistical football captain, but all he did was obliterate your gossamer thin patience and last few braincells. Given his insistent reluctance to cooperate, you eventually made up a quote for him – something along the lines of “I don’t really think much about life – I just YOLO it because you know, YOLO” – and made sure that it reflected him badly.

The quote eventually became the unofficial quote of the year and it gives you so much satisfaction, knowing that it made a small dent on Taehyung’s reputation. On bad days, you’d think of the fake quote and laugh to yourself. Needless to say, he was enraged and even sent complaint emails to Yoongi for false reporting. Journalism ethics? You don’t know her.

“Oh yes, where were we?” He draws out each word with a smooth tone, unfazed, “We were talking about how I hold your fate in the palm of my hands, Princess.”

You hate that nickname he has for you. You don’t even remember when and how it started or what led to the nickname. Grunting out loud in abhorrence, you stop to contemplate kicking him in the shin and running away, but you lack the courage to carry out the former because if you’re to ever hurt the precious varsity captain, you can jolly well bid farewell to your collegiate life.

But before you can even take a step away, he stops you by blocking your passage with an even wider smirk. If he is fucking ecstatic at your rage, he’s determined on making sure that you’re well aware of it. 

“Seriously, if you don’t want to do this, let me know right now so we don’t waste each other’s time.”

“Oh Y/N,” he calls out dramatically and you cringe at how your name rolls off his tongue, “I did promise Yoongi-hyung about that profile, but I didn’t promise him that I won’t make your life a living hell.”

If it’s possible for your eyeballs to roll out of the socket, you’re pretty sure it would have already happened by now because Kim Taehyung is impossible.

“Okay,” you exhale, gathering your thoughts, “Then I will, for the better of mankind, start this civilly. But let me just say that I’ll take the mantle of being the bigger person here, which isn’t hard because you’re technically not a person.”

“Of course, I’m more than just a person,” he laughs and a devilish smirk, way too familiar against your own will, tugs at his lips, “I’m Kim Taehyung.”

“Did I ask? Can we just get this over and done with so that I can stop being around your despicable presence, stat.”

“Now, that’s not the way to treat your interviewee. Also, Yoongi said you’ll be following me around for a week. You’ll be around my ‘despicable presence’,” he holds up his fingers in the air to quote, “For an entire week. You think up for it, babe?”

He waggles his eyebrows with a mischievous glint blazing in his eyes, enjoying the scowl on your face.

“Fuck off, Kim.”

His eyes light up when he realises that he’s hit a nerve.

“Every breath you draw in my presence annoys the heck of me,” you edge, words slowing down to a pace that’s normally used on children.  

His large, almond eyes continue to regard you with keen interest.

“That’s funny. I thought that after all this while, you would be used to me scoring right into your goal.”

“Get your head out your ass.”

“Oh, I’ll have you know that I have a bomb ass. 10 out of 10 would tap.”

He laughs with an amused grin on his face, the same one he always has whenever he riles you up, finding entertainment in your fury. You hate his laughter. He’s always laughing, his smile huge and genuine and his out of this world personality knocking girls off-kilter. You hate it. Everything about it.

“What the fuck,” you spit scathingly, mouth agape in utter disbelief at the boy in front of you, or Satan himself wearing the flesh of a human.

You end up only asking two questions from your entire list of 15 questions, but it’s as though you’re stuck at square one because his answers are either half-assed or pure nonsense, and boy are you pissed.

“Hey, you’re alive.”

You look up from your misery and see the very cause of the said misery, standing at the door with an eyebrow raised. You don’t miss the extra sarcastic bite to his voice and the irritating smirk on his face, but you’d like to believe that he’s actually impressed by your unyielding resilience.

“Highly arguable. Mentally, no, but physically, yes I am. Not for long though,” you grunt, tone imbued in sarcasm because you are seriously done with this profile feature and you can’t wait for this torture to end.

Lifting your tumbler, you suck on the dregs of your coffee and groan louder at how it’s no longer hot. Lukewarm coffee is like torture to the tongue, much more than burning your tongue. You’re one of the annoying customers who would request for extra hot coffee, because you simply can, and you’re used to them faking a smile and then rolling their eyes when they’ve turned on their backs.

“I take it that something happened?”

“Oh nothing,” you shoot him a sarcastic grin, “Except for the fact that the bastard just toyed with me and wasted my Monday evening. If this is how it’s going to be, I say that we stop immediately.”

“Oh come on, it’s just the first day! I get that Tae can be playful and says a lot of stupid things, but he’s actually a really nice dude.”

“I just don’t like him,” you mumble and your voice trails off upon realising that you sound like a bratty preschool kid who can’t get along with the others.

Yoongi scoffs at your remark to correct you, “You don’t like anybody.”

“As if you’re not the most misanthropic person I know.”

“Wow, this ain’t about me,” Yoongi throws his hands up in the air in faux-defeat, “This is about you and Taehyung. Can you at least tell me why you hate his guts?”

The empty remark that brews on the tip of your tongue dies instantly and all you can lamely mutter is, “Over my dead body.”

“Seriously? Why?”

“Because I’m embarrassed.”

“Wait, what? Did you embarrass yourself in front of him?” Yoongi urges with a confused frown, but your lips are still sealed.

“Something like that.”

“Would you be so kind as to elaborate on that?”

“Nope, continue suffering.”

He rolls his eyes in disbelief, before flipping you the bird.

The next two mornings, you find yourself dragging yourself across the campus and past the newsroom, just to show up at the football field. Upon your arrival, the entire team ditches their warmup session and falls into a collective silence, openly gawking at you and your every movement. The sudden change in the atmosphere elicits an uncomfortable shiver to crawl up your spine. Looks like your social anxiety is about to have a field day.

“Captain, you have a visitor!”

One of the boys hollers with a playful glint in his voice, breaking the silence. At that, some teammates instantly gather in their own circles to whisper to one another, while some discuss your presence without bothering to be discrete. Is this… a jock version of Mean Girls?

“Tae! Your girl is here again!” Another dude shouts and you turn around to shoot a glare at the owner of the voice, eyebrows furrowed.

“Call me his girl one more time and I’ll make sure your legs won’t make it to finals.”

“Damn, a feisty babe. Noice.”

Another guy comes up to you – Jungkook, you recognise him because he’s in one of your classes. His build towers over you, while he flashes you a small, shy smile and you can’t deny that he is pretty cute with his dimples and doe eyes, which makes him look like a little bunny, but all hope is irrevocably lost when he opens his mouth.

“Hey, I think I lost my number. Can I get yours?”

“Seriously?”

The earlier guy who calls you feisty butts in, “If Taehyung isn’t fucking you right, call me yeah? I’ll make you feel real goo—”

“Minjae, leave her alone.”

You hear a displeased grunt from behind you and turn around to an annoyed Taehyung. His grip on the football in his hand tightens, before he shoves it roughly at Minjae, throwing his teammate off completely.

“Guys, please leave Y/N alone. She’s here to interview me, so I’d appreciate it if you could keep it in your pants and have some decency or respect for yourself.”

The boys instantly mutter a sorry, the peculiar sharp undercurrent of their captain’s voice has them heaving themselves upright in alarm.

You turn your head slightly to look at Taehyung, who’s wearing a vexed frown on his face – well that’s a first for someone who is joking around and laughing. Seeing his strong side profile irks the fuck out of you because someone this attractive shouldn’t be such a big nuisance. What an unfortunate waste. Of course, you would rather be impaled than admit this.

“If you don’t go back to warmups, you’re getting another 5 more laps around the field!” He raises his voice to the entire team and they scramble back to their warmup positions like ants.

After making sure that the team is back on the grind, he spares you another look and leads you to an empty bench away from the warmup area.

“Pretty sure you could have handled it yourself, but you looked uncomfortable,” he smiles apologetically, resting his hand on the back of his neck.

“Well, if you didn’t make me wait, I wouldn’t have needed to go through that.”

“I was helping this freshman who needed extra help with his dribbling. It’s a one-on-one thing so we were in the clubroom.”

“Whatever, it’s cool.”

“Anyways… I got an earful from Yoongi-hyung this morning. He said that I was being too annoying yesterday, so yeah, sorry about that…” His voice trails off and for once, the smile playing on his lips is sheepish, instead of a cocky one.  

“Huh?”  

“I said I’m sorry. And also for my teammates’ behaviour. Don’t know why they act like this every time they see a girl on the field.”

“D-Did you just apologise to me? Is everything okay, like you know, with your brain?”

“What?” He scoffs, but the smile on his face still remains, “I’m not an asshole. I will apologise if I crossed the line.”

“Kim, not to burst your bubble, but you’ve crossed the line with your annoying and rude ass self since the beginning of time.”

And there it is again. That little grin tugging softly at his lips as his eyes lock themselves on yours.

“Not going to lie, that’s part of my charm.”

You hastily ignore the stirrings of intrigue in your chest, deciding to stop with the chit-chat, “Yeah sure. Let’s just start with the interview. I’ve got a class in an hour.”

He extends an arm to gesture you to sit down on the bench, while he settles down beside you and leans back in an elegant slouch, one ankle crossed over a knee.

“So, let’s talk about the freshmen players this year. Anyone potential successors yet? Do you have a lot of one-on-one trainings?”

“Wow, we playing 20 questions now?”

“Kim,” you sigh loudly with every intention of making sure that he knows how done you are, “I’m literally here to interview you. If I don’t ask questions, then what’s the point.”

“I was just kidding!” He throws his head back with a chuckle, “All right, shoot me with your best shot.”

“Okay,” you clear your throat, “You’re called the dark horse of the school. How do you feel about that?

“Do you like horses?”

“What?”

“Bet you’ll like mine.”

You cup your face in your palm, as your heaving suspire lowers into an interminable groan, “Kim Taehyung. Before I—”

“Hmmm, so a dark horse…” he begins slowly, “I think it’s a respectable and fulfilling title. It’s when you amaze them with how unexpectedly good you are. It’s about really proving your competence to everyone who didn’t think highly of you before, so I’ll take it with pride and satisfaction.”

You nod your head as he speaks and when he finishes his sentence, you ask with a raised eyebrow, “Practiced that much?”

“Every day before I go to bed.”

“Clearly.”

“Well, I can show you first-hand.”

“You fucking wish.”

Thankfully, Taehyung gradually stops playing around and actually starts answering your questions properly without giving bullshit answers or making suggestive remarks.

At your last question about his legacy in school, he even elaborates without any prompters and you gratefully take everything down, nodding once in a while when he brings up a good point.

“Wow, you’re writing all these down while I’m talking? Can I see?”

You casually hand him your notebook and he gapes dramatically at the notes you’ve taken.

“These are just scribbles, but they’ll help with transcribing later on.”

“Wow I have to say, I’m impressed and also a little turned on right now.”

Rolling your eyes for the nth time in disbelief, you grunt, “Kim, you do know that you’re still being recorded, right?”

“Of course,” he smirks, raising instant flags for mischief etched across his lips, “Here’s a little note for Y/N who will listen to this when she gets home – I think she’s hot as fuck.”

“You’re shameless.”

Laughter bellows from his lungs, “That I am. I’m not going to deny it.”

Afterwards, he offers to take you for a tour around the clubroom, showing you the medals and trophies that the team has snagged over the years. As he elaborates on the trajectory of the varsity team, the noisy chatter of other students outside fades into background noise like timing in your ears.

He shows you a picture of the team taken from two years ago and your eyes nearly pop out at how small and out of place freshman Taehyung looks. He’s grinning widely at the camera, surrounded by his poker-faced burly seniors, painfully sticking out like a sore tongue, even more so with his scrawny build.

“You look way too happy in the picture that I actually have second-hand embarrassment,” you mutter, but Taehyung manages to catch it.  

“Hey! I was an excited freshie and they didn’t tell me it was a formal picture.”

When you leave the clubroom that day, you take along with you new knowledge about Kim Taehyung. Firstly, you learn that he has only been playing football for two years, which comes off as a shock and almost a form of embarrassment when compared to the other guys with at least a decade of football experience, thus deserving the title of a dark horse. He’s always been more of an arts dude, but he got sucked into the sport when he and his best friend from high school Jimin walked past the football tryouts during orientation.

Secondly, either his cologne or shampoo has a fruity undertone and this is derived from the fact that he is suddenly standing so close to you that you can feel the warmth of his breath and see each glimmer of darkness that surfaces in his orbs, alongside the humming warmth radiating off of his body.

A chill runs down your spine and your heart starts slamming against your chest out of nowhere at the proximity. You’re not used to being so physically close to him and you try not to think about how his alluring scent has you biting the inside of your cheek.

Taehyung seems to know his effect on you because his lips start to spread into a wolfish grin, inching closer to you.

“Your fuckboy antics won’t work on me, Kim.”

Your voice doesn’t come off as strong as you wanted it to, but you hope that he doesn’t catch on.

“You sure about that, princess?” His breath fans out across your cheeks when he speaks, causing instant warmth to scatter over your skin in the rise of gooseflesh.

Irritation bubbles like a brook throughout your entire body.

It’s taking every single willpower of yours not to headbutt him in the face. You desperately want to, but because you’re obviously the bigger person here and you need to prevent yourself from being expelled from school, you could only jab your finger harshly at his chest.

“Try it on another chick, yeah?”

He uncoils from his slouch and rises to his full height, exuding a smug superiority.

“What if you’re the only one I want to try it on?” He teases, his voice echoing with timber, rich and velvet.

You shoot him a leer, accompanied with the imaginary daggers to his face, trying to ignore the steadfast flutter in your belly. By the anger that undulates from your pinched features, he knows he’s left you tongue-tied, and this only spurs his grin to widen, your clear distaste for him a pure entertainment and amusement to him.

“I hate you.”

You grit, but your voice comes out as a mere squeak. You feel like burying yourself from the weight of his longing gaze. Clearing your throat, you push the strange flutter that’s settling in your belly as you hoist your bag over your shoulder and speed-walk away from him, missing the way he smiles at your departing silhouette.

The shift in Taehyung’s demeanour on the field is beyond commendable, almost palpable to everyone who has their eyes on him. When he’s on the field, there is no fooling around, only the giving of his one hundred and one percent to the game.

Moving agilely with astounding precision, you observe how his sun-kissed skin shimmers with a thin sheen of sweat on his neck, while his eyes sparkle with intensity.

All right. There is some truth that Taehyung looks kind of cool (do people still use that word to describe someone?) and charismatic like this, all serious and immersed in the game. You just wonder if he could be the same when answering your questions.

His brown mop of tousled locks is damp, parted haphazardly, while his jersey clings onto his frame, drenched with perspiration. His biceps strain against the fabric and the veins on his exposed forearms are given prominence when he grabs onto the ball with his fingers effortlessly. Taehyung’s not the buffest, but he is lean with just a nice amount of toned muscles.

When your eyes trail further south for an infinitesimal moment, his tight football pants accentuating the swell of his thighs and the curve of his ass on full display come into view.

Fuck. Your eyes divert back up to his face when you realise what you’ve been gawking at. As the sun hikes up in the sky, it casts a pretty golden glow on his profile, highlighting his sun-kissed skin. You push away the sensation of a small bud blooming in your chest when you meet his gaze, especially when he shoots you his signature boyish smile, a foil to your frown.

Well, looks like someone is happy to see you.

A disconcerting feeling starts to stir in the pit of your stomach when Taehyung approaches you without wiping that smile off his face.

“Good job for surviving two and a half days with me. You ready for today?”

“Replying yes or no literally won’t make a difference at all.”

Shrugging, you lift your tumbler to sip on your coffee before pulling a face.

“Fuck,” you curse quietly under your breath, unexpecting Taehyung to catch it but he does.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing… My coffee isn’t hot anymore.”

“Oh—”

“I bought this tumbler not long ago and it’s supposed to be good at trapping heat, but it just sucks and it was kind of expensive? I’m so angry I need to get another one—”

You stop your rant abruptly when you realise that Taehyung’s been staring at you quietly. He even urges you to continue with a nod of his head.

“Sorry, I’m oversharing.”

It’s not your fault that you tend to get too passionate when talking about your distaste for lukewarm coffee. For something that’s your bloodline, it has to be the right temperature, or else.

“Is that your pet peeve?”

You nod, “You can’t judge me though, or I’ll punch you.”

“It’s cool. If your greatest nemesis is lukewarm coffee—”

“Wrong. My greatest nemesis is the boy who’s currently talking to me right now.”

“As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted,” he rolls his eyes in faux-annoyance, “I absolutely detest coffee, big ass pills that I can’t swallow, and bread crusts.”

“Wait,” you stare at him pointedly in a cursory silence. “You don’t like coffee?”

“Nah, never liked the bitter taste.”

“Okay…” You drag your word out, “But you can just add sugar? Not that I do, I like it bitter. But please elaborate on the big ass pills and bread crusts. For a big boy like you, I have to say that this is pretty amusing.”

Laughter rises in Taehyung’s lungs at the pure confusion on your face, “I can’t swallow pills. Used to always puke them out. I usually crush them and yes, I know it tastes even worse but really, how else can I take my medicine? And bread crusts? Incardinate of evil. I’m really picky when it comes to bread.”

You can’t help but laugh at his dramatic expression. You don’t think you’ve ever had a proper chat with Taehyung that didn’t include insults, remarks, or retorts of any kind.

“You’re one weird boy, Kim.”

The conversation carries on smoothly, tucking itself into every available space, and you’ve got to admit that not only is Taehyung not bad at holding a conversation, he’s also a decent listener and listens quietly when necessary. This really piques your curiosity – maybe Yoongi’s right about him, maybe there is indeed a decent side to him. You’re just not sure why Taehyung loves to push your buttons. It’s as if he wants you to give him the time of day.

From your periphery, you realise that Taehyung’s looking straight at you and you freeze at the weight of his piercing gaze, feeling hot all of a sudden. A stunned silence encompasses the space between you, sitting heavily in your lungs.

After mustering up some courage, you look up to meet his eyes to reciprocate his actions, but your gaze diverts to the ground when you realise that his eyes are piercing right into your soul, like they’re searching or yearning for something.

“Kim,” you clear your throat awkwardly, “What are you doing?”

“Looking at you,” he replies matter-of-factly, his intense gaze never leaving your face. You want to bury yourself alive when you feel a persistent heat simmering under your skin, tinging your cheeks a translucent pink.

“And may I know why?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” The right corner of his lips curls up into a smirk. He’s raising a challenge.

“Spit it out.”

“Do I say the truth or?”

“Not that bold after all, huh?”

“Well,” he opens his mouth again with a devious little gleam in his eyes, “I was thinking about kissing you.”

You don’t miss how he is openly gawking at your lips and your eyes instinctively rest on his as well, which are somewhere between the colour of peaches and cherries. You’re not sure of what washes over you, but your mouth takes the better of you. And for the first time, your words aren’t clogged in your throat.

“Do it then.”

You look at him through your lashes, dark and coy, eyebrow raised, testing the very limits of Taehyung’s restraint.

The erratic beating of his heart is in sync with yours, but it increases within a second when you notice his gaze fall back on your lips from your eyes. Suddenly, this sparks your curiosity and all you can think about is how good Taehyung’s would feel on yours.

“W-What?”

“Do it, Taehyun—”

Before you could even mutter his name, his lips are suddenly smashed against yours.

Goosebumps rise on your skin in its wake when his tongue grazes along the flesh of your lower lip, and you, suddenly so enthralled by the boy in front of you, part your mouth to meet him halfway.

You don’t know how long it has been. With his lips pressed against yours, you lose track of time, watch it fly away in the form of the licks on your mouth. Taehyung slackens his jaw to deepen the kiss, cupping your face with his hands to bring you closer to him. His tongue brushes against the underside of yours and then he recedes slightly before tangling for dominance.

Your name leaves his swollen lips in a dulcet whisper, causing your heart to spike in your chest and your stomach to unravel and knot again. You press your palm over your chest to calm the injured patter of your heart against the depths of your stomach.

The way his eyelashes that are almost impossibly thick and dark flutter just a fraction with each breath, brushing slightly against your nose and you squirm at the intimacy of the moment.

When he finally parts away, you feel like you’ve been electrocuted. But your stomach drops again when a pretty blush blooms over Taehyung’s face, crossing the bridge of his nose and spreading over his cheekbones. His hands continue to rest on your shoulders, but his touch is so hot and tantalising that it makes you want to melt.

Taehyung has always called bullshit on all those romance novels that rave about how lips can taste as sweet as strawberries. But you taste like the strawberries from his grandparents’ farm – sweet and delectable.

When he licks his lips again, he shudders when his senses register the honey musk of you and the ghost of your afternoon coffee. He hates bitter coffee with a passion, but you taste so fucking sweet. Overly saccharine that he feels dizzy.

You don’t talk about the incident the previous night and you’re grateful that Taehyung doesn’t act any differently. It was most probably the adrenaline that took over you and also perhaps your curiosity because you’re a reporter and reporters are supposed to be nosey, curious and also dreaming about kissing the varsity soccer team’s captain. Yep, absolutely.  

Your pride be damned. While it kills you to admit it, it’s common knowledge to everyone in the fucking school that Taehyung is just really nice to look at, be it when he dons his jersey, a button up or his colourful printed clothes. There is no doubting his ravishing features – his sharp nose, big almond eyes, long eyelashes, perky lips and the little moles that adorn his face.

Unbeknownst to you, you cross paths with Taehyung in a day more often than you think you do. Too often for your own good. Most of the time, you can hear him before he comes into view. His boisterous laughter that highlights a lilting charm to his low voice fills your ears like a plague. It is as though he has intended to haunt you with his loud presence. And though you’ve already made up your mind to avoid him unless it’s necessary to spare him a glance, it’s quite impossible. After all, you have one job – and that is to follow Taehyung for a week.

“Hey Princess!”

You could almost hear the sneer hidden in his coo and envision it with perfect clarity, that infuriating spark in his eye whenever he manages to rile you up. You don’t turn around, your feet bringing you further away from him, but eventually come to a halt when he jogs up to you, blocking your way of passage.

“Princess!”

“I heard you the first time.”

“And you still ignored me? I’m hurt.”

“What do you want?” You grunt loudly, having absolutely no qualms about showing your displeasure.

He slings his football bag over his right shoulder and smiles, “You know, you shouldn’t be mean to a person who just bought you coffee.”

“Wha—”

With a goofy smile pulling at his lips, he pushes a tumbler towards you that was initially hidden behind his back.

“You said you don’t like lukewarm coffee and a styrofoam cup wouldn’t keep it warm by the time I pass it to you, so I got you a tumbler… Besides, you said yours wasn’t good so I figured that I’ll just get you a new one.”

Warmth violently flares in the full of your cheeks, tipping your ears pink at his words. You try not to let the fact that he remembers get to you, but he fucking remembers.

You are a college student to the bone. Turning your back on coffee would be a sin. But coffee from Taehyung? In a tumbler that he purposely bought because he fucking remembers what you said?

“How—”

He beams, simpering at your speechless self. He thinks your shocked expression is adorable, doing nothing for the wildfire claiming the land of his chest.

“Did you, like, stalk me or something?”

“Pfft. Maybe?” He runs a hand through his hair with a lopsided smile, eyes filled with mirth.

“You’re so weird.”

Despite being surrounded by the steaming, teeming mass of students in the crowded hallway, the moment you two share is as private and as comforting as sitting on the sideline bench alone.

“Enjoy your coffee! This tumbler has very good reviews, I checked! So your coffee should be still hot. If not, text me and I’ll give them a bad review.”

“W-What? Tae—”

Before you could call out for him, he has already scrambled away and blended in with the crowd. You deadpan mentally when you realise that the entire hallway is gawking at you and the tumbler around your hand. But what’s more alarming is the strange tightness in your chest and the warm, tingling feeling coursing through your fingertips that you can’t get rid of.

You start learning random things about Taehyung beyond just football and general facts that everyone knows about him. It’s surreal how drastically your relationship with Taehyung has changed over the past few days. While snarky ripostes and greasy comments (from Taehyung, of course) are still exchanged, talking and listening to each other, or just being with each other, feels almost natural to you. But you’re no longer at each other’s throats and his annoying retorts have significantly decreased.

The daily meetings bring the two of you into line: by tacit and unconscious consent, you two have begun to weave a space for each other in your lives, forming a joint narrative like a breeze in the boughs, hanging in the spaces in between the two of you.

He was telling you about how he likes comparing his cheeks to bread buns, and he likes to stuff his cheeks when he eats, and that his grandparents would get upset if he returns to his hometown with sunken cheeks. You don’t realise that you’ve been grinning this entire time listening to him ramble on about his cheeks, but your smile grows even wider at Taehyung’s lock screen when his phone lights up from a notification.

“Oh my god, is that a dog?”

“Yes!” He exclaims, a little too loudly and shoves his phone in your face, “Say hi to Yeontan! Isn’t he just adorable?”

Your heart jumps at his excited smile and the tinges of pure adoration dancing in his orbs.

“Aww, he looks like a little ball of fluff.”

“He is! But he can also be very grumpy. Like you.”

“Did you just compare me to a dog?” You fold your arms fold over your chest in faux-rage.

“Such audacity!” He raises his palm to his chest with a gasp, feigning indignation. “He’s not just a dog. He’s the best thing that has ever happened to me ever since I saw him at the shelter.”

“Shelter?”

“Oh, I volunteer at a shelter for abandoned and stray pets every month. You know, Yeontan was actually abandoned by his previous owner and I don’t know, I just had to take him in? I would take all the animals at the shelter if I could, to be honest. Maybe next time. Anyways, let me show you more pictures! I have an album full of his pictures.”

“Dude…”

“Don’t be like that. I already have a Yeontan who gets super unenthusiastic whenever I show him pictures of other dogs. I think he’s jealous.”

A small smile tugs at your lips and the edges of his lips start to curl up to a semblance of a smile as well.

“Well, Yeontannie sure is one lucky dog.”

“More like I am one lucky boy,” he beams, flashing his honey bread cheeks in all their glory.  

There’s no denying the sweet quiet of Taehyung’s presence when he’s not making stupid remarks, and this is expounded by how time seems to forget about its own existence these few days. Before you know it, it’s already dark and you’re soon packing up to head back home.

“I’ll need you to go through some fact-checking with you tomorrow. You free around 6pm?”

“Shit, I think I have something on,” Taehyung pouts, fishing out his phone from his pocket, “Let me check.”

“Oh, then it’s fine—”

“Do you want me to cancel it?”

“No! No, it’s fine!”

“It’s okay, I can just postpone it—”

“That’ll mean that you’re cancelling for me.... and you know, you don’t have to.”

“It’s just dinner with Jimin. Fact-checking is important for your article, right?” He says quietly, while his eyes come slowly round and rivet themselves upon your face.

You don’t miss the twinkle in his eyes, igniting a blaze deep in your bones and washing your senses away. All of a sudden, your throat feels constricted, breaths coming out short. You’re hyperaware of how close he is and to be honest, you feel like you’re standing in a room that’s on fire, too hot for the chilly evening which has a very high chance of rain.  

Even if you continue to insist that you despise him, you can’t help but admit that somewhere deep down, something between the two of you is now different. 

Exhaustion creeps up onto Taehyung, the pain in his arms manifested in his back as well, gradually sneaking into his legs until all his limbs are aching and stiff. Hunched over on a bench, he grits his teeth in frustration, nails digging the skin of his palms, while hot tears threaten to spill.

On Friday, you’ve walked into the team huddled in a circle, frowns all over their faces, a congealing tension evident in the air. From the clamour, it seems that one of the boys have gotten injured during practice and the team was split into two on who to be held responsible and whether there was any foul play involved.

From the sidelines, you watch Taehyung order everyone to shush and makes everyone sit down for a deconflict session. He appears surprisingly calm and addresses the issue in a collected manner. Afterwards, he invites the team to share about how they feel, allowing the conflict to openly spoken about and viewed from different perspectives. He listens attentively, like he always does with you, and speaks clearly and practically, easing the tension in the air till their teammates start coming to a consensus.  

When he sees you standing at the sidelines, he gives you a small smile that you easily see through and approaches you after making sure that his teammates are cool with one another and reminds them that whatever happens on the field stays in the field.

“So um,” you begin quietly, treading carefully around his feelings, “Are fights like that common?”

You already know the answer from looking at the size of the dark bags under his eyes. He is slowly breaking down, but still holding tightly onto the carefree façade that he puts on for show, for the team. It’s also mid-terms period and from the earlier interviews, you remember that he is on a scholarship that he cannot afford to lose because his parents are struggling to send his other siblings to school as well.

Contrary to popular belief, Taehyung isn’t an open book. He’s more of a sealed book, covered in dust and trapped in a forgotten corner of a bookstore. He has his own elusive way of dealing with ways, befriending people, treasuring the people and things around him, but he has also his own way of hiding his feelings. He hates the idea of being vulnerable with people.

He is a combination of hot and cold – sometimes you feel like he’s an old friend because of the emotional compatibility and his comfortable presence, but sometimes, he just goes back to being the cocky fuckboy he is. Maybe that’s just part of the jock persona – to deceive people into thinking that he’s more than that. But in all honesty, that’s not Taehyung and you wouldn’t compartmentalise him like that or homogenise him as just another fuckboy no matter how much you dislike him.

You think you’d know him quite well from having shadowed him the past week. It has come to your realisation that you’re no longer at each other’s throats and his annoying retorts have significantly decreased, but you’re not sure whether it’s because he’s just tired from everything to go out of his way to be annoying. But you don’t have any complaints.  

He lets out a dry chuckle at your question, his words sounding sugar crystalised and rough in his throat, “Are you asking this as a friend or as a reporter?”

“We’re friends?”

“We–”

Some threads of a biting remark begin to sew themselves together in his mind, but he stops instantly, too tired to really fabricate anything, much less bother to speak.

“Taehyung,” you call out after drawing a furtive breath, “Don’t doubt yourself. You’re a great friend and captain.”

Your soft and sincere tone permeates through Taehyung’s every last prickle of frustration, especially when you offer him a reassuring smile, “What you did out there was one of the selfless acts I’ve ever seen in a leader. And this should mean something, you know, considering that it’s coming from me.”

“Of course I am, I’m actually nicer than I look.”

“I know you’re kidding, but I’m trying to be serious here and on the off chance you’re not, fuck off.”

He remains quiet.  

“I’m serious though. It’s obviously not easy being the captain, but it’s clear that you have rightfully earned the respect from all your teammates. You handled it quite well without being biased or losing your cool.”

“I did?” His tone, deep in timbre, is so quietly surprised that it gnaws at your heart.

“Yeah.”

“Conflicts like that are a daily occurrence,” he mumbles, “But they can really break or make our teamwork and… the momentum for me as their captain, so I have to try? I have to be responsible for my guys.”

You watch how a cocky smirk instantly settles itself on his lips right after you think that he has opened up, “But I might be just great at forming relationships and team-bonding.”

“Judging from how you treat the girls around you, I don’t think that’s completely true.”

“Girls around me?”

“You’re a fuckboy. I don’t think it’s safe to say that your relationships with girls are great.”

“It’s just sex, no big deal.”

“And that gives you the right to play with their feelings?”

“Of course not, we just hook up that’s all. No hard feelings. It’s just sex with no strings attached and they all know it. Before I hook up with someone, I make it very clear that I’m not looking for anything serious. Just meaningless sex and fun.”

“Okay, but let’s say for example, a girl does end up falling for you. Is that solely her fault?”

He stops to think.

“For now, I just don’t wish to get involved in anything serious. I don’t have the time or the energy to deal with feelings.”

You scrunch your nose up in distaste when Taehyung shrugs his shoulders casually, dismissing the conversation.

You’re not someone who is easily lost for words, always quick to retort with a witty comeback, especially when it’s with Taehyung. But this time, all you could mutter is an “I see”, before pretending to focus on writing on your notepad. For some reason, you feel like your heart just took a dip. The thought of him playing around with girls leaves a bad taste in your mouth, but you can’t comprehend why. Since when did you care what Taehyung does with his life? You never did before.

Maybe it’s because at the back of your mind, you know that your said example might not exactly be one. Maybe.

Sunday arrives quicker than ever. In retrospect, you know this day would come – in fact, you’ve been waiting for this day ever since Yoongi assigned you the profile. But there’s just something – sort of a difference in the air surrounding you and Taehyung – that kneads at your heart about this coming to an end. Whatever this is.

He doesn’t say a word when you take a sip from the tumbler that he gave you, but you’re pretty sure that the way his eyes instantly lit up with a smile to match says it all.

“Oh right! Have you eaten breakfast? I, um,” he coughs awkwardly, hand scratching the back of his hand with a nervous smile, “made some sandwiches this morning.”

He turns around to his sports bag and fishes out a lunchbox, “Strawberry cream sandwiches!”

“My grandparents own a strawberry farm, so I get all the best strawberries!” He beams, and his eyes turn into little sparkly crescents. At that, your heart skips in two, one half in your throat and the other down in your gut.

“Not to be biased, but these are the tastiest and sweetest strawberries ever. Oh! After Japanese strawberries, but don’t tell my grandparents. They’ll be sad.”

“Anyways, try it,” he hands you a sandwich and you take a moment to observe how it screams Kim Taehyung at his finest. He has trimmed the bread crusts (his nemesis) and added a shit ton of cream cheese.

Taehyung’s crescent-like eyes are now staring straight into you as he watches you bite into the sandwich, anticipating for your reaction. There’s something in his gaze that makes your limbs heavy. It makes you feel trapped and lost in the depths of his eyes, warm and inviting.

You smile at the sweet and sour taste and he literally jumps with joy, flashing his honeyed cheeks.

“It’s good, right?” He chirps, beckoning you to eat more and you ignore how Taehyung’s cheeks are fully stuffed and how he chews with a natural pout on his lips.

For a moment, the world seems to be out of space and time as you sit on the bench, savouring the sweetness of everything. Taehyung is looking at you and the moment is lengthening. He becomes severely tongue-tied, no longer knowing what to say, but yearns for this moment to stay the way it is.  

“Nice weather, huh?”

“Talking about the weather now?” You ask in a bemused tone and he puffs, rolling his eyes playfully, but the growing tingle of pink on his cheeks doesn’t escape your notice.

“I-I mean... It’s nice.”

A softness settles into the lines of Taehyung’s face, and you can’t bring yourself to look away when his eyes land on yours, “It’s nice being here with you.”

And he means it. He generally feels good around you. He isn’t an anxious or socially awkward person, and he’s got tons of friends, but he still finds himself putting on a mask with most of them. A slightly louder, a more playful and enthusiastic version of himself. He almost always becomes the life of the party, the person who makes things easier and more comfortable for everyone else – breaking the silence, making jokes, drawing people out of their shells and easing them into conversations. He likes being that kind of person.

But it does get tiring, sometimes.

He likes being quiet, sometimes.

Sometimes, he just likes to curl up on the couch in his PJs and not feel like he has to be Funny! Loud! And gregarious! All at once. On some days, he just wants to laze around and watch anime till his eyes bleed. On some days, he just wants to be a normal college student without a team to manage and reputation to uphold.

You roll your eyes at his sudden confession, hoping that the warmth that sits high on your cheeks isn’t that obvious, but it probably is, from the way your heart ensnares at how Taehyung’s lips are stretched so widely across his face, his crescent eyes crinkling so adorably that you find yourself smiling too.

“You’re a loser,” you tease, shoving him lightly.

Then Taehyung is laughing, highlighting the undertones of oak and berries. He is laughing so hard that his stomach hurts and his chest aches with a drumming sound against his ribcage. Soon, laughter pokes its way across your glassy eyes, with tinges of amusement waltzing in your orbs, and pink cheeks and you’re doubling over him, with tears in your eyes and nose all scrunched up. Taehyung is holding onto you and the moment is lovely, everything is lovely.

You’re lovely.

Taehyung raises his arm to ruffle your hair, stirring up a mini tornado within you and chuckles again when you jump slightly.

“Gotta say that I’d miss having you around. You and your pesky presence. Can’t believe a week just went by just like that.”

“Rude,” you half-heartedly taunt, pushing his hand away, while a corner of your mouth curls up in retaliation.

“It was fun being your side hoe though. Do you know how many glares I’ve received by strangers, literally girls I’ve never seen before in my entire life, in the hallway? Imagine the power I have.”

“What side hoe?” He chuckles boyishly and your breath hitches, “You’re as good as my main.”  

Your heart pulses erratically in your chest, cheeks flushed with a warmth that matches the one that blooms in your heart. The way he makes your heart soar terrifies the fuck out of you.

“Not sure if I should feel honoured.”

“You know, I actually don’t know how we ended up like this. You hated me for the longest time and now we’re sitting here.”

“I did hate you, all right.”

“You have such a personality.”

“That’s another way of calling me a bitch.”

“As in… vibrant, colourful, I don’t know how else to describe you. You’re rude and endearing at the same time – it’s weird.”

The most adorable of smiles form on his face as he lets out a wholehearted laugh, it makes your insides melt.

A grin moulds on your face that resembles his own, “And you’re still a huge pain in the ass.”

“Still a bomb ass that I’ll tap.”

Later in the day, you receive a text from Taehyung. It’s not the first time that he has texted you. But little did you know that he would be a freaking double texter.

[from annoying ass jock] [18:49] hey you [18:49] do you want to grab dinner [18:49] i am very hungry right now lol [18:49] i mean you’re probably hungry unless you’ve eaten? [18:49] take this as a goodbye dinner, celebratory dinner wtv [18:51] feel free to say no tho HAHAHAHA

[you] [18:53] stfu I wasn’t going to say no [18:53] clam down [18:54] i’m kinda craving for a good burger and cheese fries

The night passes by smoother and faster than expected. Maybe it’s because you don’t realise the possibility of it being a date. The way Taehyung has asked you for dinner seems rather impromptu, so you’ve completely eliminated the idea of it being a date.

On the other hand, Taehyung himself knows that this is a date. While you’re cutting into your burger, he is furiously chewing on his fries, struggling to believe that you had even taken up his absurd offer of eating dinner together. On a Friday evening. With him. Is it a sign of peace? Or even something more?

He offers to walk you back to your dorm after that, telling you that he needs to walk off his burger. When he walks side-by-side with you, you focus at how he is so tall, how his height literally hovers over you, doing nothing but darkening the pink high on your cheeks.

When he stops in his track abruptly, you have to tilt your head upwards to look at his face, and each passing streetlamp casts his already golden skin in an orange glow, throwing tiny suns in his eyes into orbit.

Tonight is a little different.

The way he’s looking at you is a little different.

He takes your palms into his and starts playing with your fingers, allowing the two of you to stew and bask in the quiet contentment of the night.

His other hand rests gingerly on your waist, before bringing you closer to him. Then you find his lips graze the shell of your ear and shudder at his warm breath on your skin, inviting the rise of gooseflesh to scatter all over your body.

Your mind goes blank. All you can only think about how his touch on your waist burns, how ticklish his breath is on your face, and how there are little awakening tingles that shoot up your spine every time his skin comes into contact with yours. How he’s so gentle with you as if you’re a delicate piece of art.

How much you want him to kiss you.

Honestly, it takes you by surprise how much you actually want him to do just that, how much you’ve unconsciously thought about this so often that you can already imagine the ghost of his fingers down the cleft of your chin.

A fizzle of electricity runs down your spine when he brings your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to each finger, before he brushes over your knuckles to intertwine his fingers with yours.

He’s looking at you with as much certainty as you know that he’s going to sweep in and kiss you. You offer him a smile, and it is all the reassurance Taehyung needs before he leans in to press his lips against yours. Something akin to fireworks explodes inside you, colouring your insides and nerves with rainbow sparks. It makes you feel so alive.

The gentle brush of skin becomes static charge. He takes his time with you and kisses you like he’s always had the intention of doing so, like this isn't a spur of the moment catastrophe. Like he wants more of you, needs a taste of what he’s been yearning for the longest time.

You are abstrusely drawn to Taehyung. Like planets condemned by gravity to collide, you two have become yoked as one. It’s the headiness of his scent, the taste of his lips, his tongue that carefully darts over your bottom lip and seeks entrance. It’s the way he’s kissing you, so different, so soft and gentle, like it’s grounded in something you can’t quite place, compared to the first kiss.

Taehyung’s lips are soft like the cup of his hands around your face, but it is the settling of the repeated brush of his mouth against yours that makes you almost melt into the ground.

Nipping lightly at your lower lip, his lips curl up into a smirk when he hears a gasp escape from your mouth, your heart ricocheting in your chest.  

It’s an amalgamation of teeth, hidden feelings and pure adoration that are coming to a head and finally bursting – absolutely everything you wanted and more. But even when your tongues tangle with one another, it is more sensual and romantic than hasty and lustful.

The night is upon you when he parts from you moments later, allowing you to catch the breaths that have escaped from your now swollen-red lips and come down from your highs. You’re staring at him with eyes laced with fondness, before he leans in to meet your forehead and chuckles to himself at how surreal everything is.

You shouldn’t be feeling so happy, so satisfied, but you feel like you’ve been moon-struck. God, you can’t even figure it out yourself. Not when you’re tucked into his broad sturdy chest, his chin resting on the crown of your head and hand resting gently around your waist. Listening to his heartbeat. Though you’re aware that he isn’t looking for anything serious, you want to believe that maybe, just maybe his heart is beating as thunderously as yours because he’s serious this time.

“Not about to feint surprise at how you’re still alive because I’m going to need that profile from you, but I have to ask. Did you not sleep last night?” You look up to see Yoongi raising his eyebrow at you with suspicion.

“Ah, the appearance of negation in a question – my cup of tea. Do I reply yes or no to your pervasive question?”

“Very snarky today, I see. You look like melted ice cream, topped with tasteless sprinkles.”

“And you look like a boiled dumpling.”

“Thanks.”

“I was up doing work last night.”

“You’ve already handed up all your submissions,” he replies matter-of-factly.

“I know… I just… was,” you shoot Yoongi a pointed look, “thinking about stuff.”

The change in his expression lets you in that he knows exactly about what’s up, “Thinking about stuff, huh?”

“I’m just so—”

“Whipped for Kim Taehyung and I want to tap that ass. South Korea’s ass, yeah?”

“Disoriented. The word I was going for was disoriented, thank you very much. But also, what the fuck?”

“I said what I said.”

“I also said what I said. Don’t be gross.”

“Look,” Yoongi clears his throat, as if to brace himself for his forthcoming words, “I don’t really want to be involved in whatever feud or relationship you have – look how I didn’t overgeneralise because I’m generally confused. But one thing’s for sure. You clearly have feelings for him.”

“Yeah, of course I do. Anger, impatience and animosity.”

“You know what I mean,” he sighs in incredulity and gives you a look like he can look through your soul and tell that you’re lying through your teeth.

“What the fuck, dude? Kim Taehyung is just urgh. There is nothing good about that jock – all he knows is fucking around and getting onto my nerves. Seriously—"

“Seriously? You expect me to believe that? Don’t think I didn’t notice you smiling at your laptop while working on that profile? Or how you’re glued to your phone because he’s texting you or sending you memes?”

“What?” You blurt out in disbelief.

“Don’t fight me on that – you hate texting. I’m not blind, Y/N. He obviously ignited something in you.”

“What the fuck,” you snarl, “That’s disgusting. I don’t even know what’s so interesting about him, like why the heck are people so smitten by him. They must be blind or something. I swear that I’ve lost at least 10 years of my life from spending an entire week with him. Don’t know how I’m still alive.”

“Y/N…”

“I don’t fucking understand why people put him on a pedestal. He’s really your typical jock? Another egotistical fuckboy. An airhead with no personality. I don’t understand why people like him so much—"

“Um… Taehyung…”

“What?” You flare up impatiently, acrimonious at how Yoongi keeps interrupting your hate speech, totally missing the grimace on his face.

“Y/N, Taehyung… He’s behind you.”

You spin around and your heart drowns in your chest.

The sight of Taehyung’s face of reticence at the door punches you straight in the gut. He shakes his head with a forlorn smile that you can easily see through and turns on his heels, walking away quickly.

Without hesitation, you run after him, your chest tightening with a disconsolate, stifling feeling, as if you’ve just swallowed a hard lump of cloud.

“Tae! I can explain–”

He turns around, maintaining his distance from you, “Gee Y/N, I didn’t know you hated me that much. I thought… thought that after spending all this time with me, your feelings might have changed. But you still… you still hate me, don’t you?”

“Taehyung, listen – I didn’t mean it. I j-just–”

His brows crinkled together in a tight wedge, eyes pressed shut.

“You meant it.”

“I–”

Your tongue feels heavy, like it’s made of iron.  

“You meant it,” he repeats, shoulders sunken low, crestfallen, and you swear, you see hurt in his eyes.

Your heart immediately falls with it, knowing that you’re the cause of his sadness. It feels like there’s a fist seizing your heart and squeezing it until it bursts and splatters all over the walls. When he walks away from you, the pain remains, unabated.

Only heaven and you yourself know how much you did not mean it.

When you wake up the next few mornings, it’s as if a shadow is lurking at the back of your mind.

There is a tirade running on loop in the back of your mind, the more you thought about it, the angrier you got. But anger is merely a convenient emotion that easily covered up for sorrow. You are angry at yourself for hurting Taehyung.

You’d never say it, but in between glances, hazy mornings at the field and the exchange of witty ripostes, your feelings for Taehyung have changed, unbeknownst to the world. You have no idea when it happened. When the lines that so clearly distinguished you from Taehyung became so blurred. When he stopped being irritating, an obstacle, an enemy and became something else entirely.

You don’t exactly know when you started to thaw and let your guard down to let him in, but you know that you… like seeing Taehyung smile. And you also know that you want to be one of the reasons for his smile.

Despite the overwhelming amount of work you need to attend to, these few days, you spend a lot less time working on your assignments like you should be and a lot more daydreaming about twinkling eyes and a distinctive laughter from a boxy smile. It doesn’t go past your notice – how your heart goes all erratic when a particular football player is around, his sunshine smile radiating the darkest part of your mind and threatening to break your steely, collected demeanour into bits.

You have been so scared to let him in, so afraid to let yourself fully submerge in the comfort of his touches, in the calm that envelops you when Taehyung is beside you, listening to you ramble, or when he looks at you when he thinks you’re not looking.

You tell yourself that you’d be fine. That life goes on. That Taehyung is just another almost and you can live without talking to him again like how your life was before this whole shit-show. But you remember the current that zaps you whenever he brushes his hand against yours, the ricocheting of your heart whenever you find him staring at you. You also think about the little crinkle at the edges of his eyes whenever he laughs and the music of his laughter that you’ve grown to adore. Little did you know, the warmth at the pit of your stomach has long built a house to reside in and it’s yearning for its owner to come home.  

It hurts.

It hurts because Taehyung has the prettiest, purest and brightest of all souls. He views the world in a different light with all his little quirks. You adore his ardent love for classical jazz (he accidentally played his music out loud when you were with him and gave you a whole lecture on and you didn’t stop him for he spoke so animatedly with stars in his eyes), for strawberries and his family that he would have been a farmer with his grandparents if he didn’t attend college.

Because when he loves, he loves so fiercely, softly and dearly, like the first snow, like the fresh dew on a perfectly bloomed rose. Soon, the gentle heat of the morning will send him back to the clouds and the bloom will raise her head, calling to the summer bees. Taehyung flows like honey in your soul and makes you feel so whole, but vulnerable at the same time.

He’s a dream come true, a daydream, a part of the labyrinth where reveries rest. He’s just so wonderfully and ethereally endearing.

The ache in your chest throbs especially when you spot a cute dog on the way to the café downtown and whip out your phone to snap a picture to tell Taehyung that it’s one of Yeontan’s little friends. You almost hit the send button, but your thumb freezes into place when you remember.

Right.

He’s never going to talk to you again.

It also hurts extra bad when you’re glued to your laptop, fingers hacking away to finish up the feature article on the said boy, writing about the true Kim Taehyung that currently, only you know of. But he probably hates your face right now.

“Hey, you’re—”

“Yoongi, no. I’m not alive. I’ve never felt more dead before.”

“I was going to commend you for being here today after you know, yesterday’s incident.”

He grabs a chair and sits by you and a dreadful sigh escapes from your lips because you’re well-aware that Yoongi is going to make you talk. He isn’t the type to let you ignore your feelings, preferring in honest and open communication even if it pains you to talk about your feelings because you’re so emotionally constipated.

“How are you?”

Burying your face in your hands, you somehow manage to choke out the words lodged deep in your throat, “Feel like shit. I thought I hit rock bottom. But now it’s rock bottom, 50 feet of crap and then me.”

If Yoongi notices the tremble of your fingers, he doesn’t comment on it and you’re grateful for that.

“Tell me more.”

It’s not a question.

God, you hate it when he presses. Fuck journalists and their persistence of sticking their noses into other people’s business. You want to laugh at how ironic this is.

“I don’t even know where to start,” you laugh dryly and cringe at how fake it sounds.

You have your usual self-defensive answer rolling off the tip of your tongue, “I am just another dumb bitch who fell for him.”

“You know, if you’re going to continue being like this, I don’t really know how to help you.”

“I’m not kidding. I feel so dumb for liking him. In fact, one part of me is fucking furious that I’m so vulnerable right now. I hate feelings.”

“First of all, you’re not dumb for liking him. And second of all, human beings are vulnerable and all feelings, no matter how small or insignificant or cliché they are, are all valid. That’s how we grow.”

He continues sagely, “Look, whatever happened between you two is a mess. So you hated him last time, but you’ve developed feelings for him, and that’s all that should matter, no? Don’t refuse your feelings just because you know, you’re too ashamed or scared to acknowledge them.”

Your mouth opens and then snaps close. You repeat this in your state of stupefaction as your brain tries to process everything that has occurred.

“Does it matter if I acknowledge my feelings?”

He doesn’t answer.

“He told me that he isn’t looking for anything serious. Just meaningless sex and fun. I literally just played myself.”

“I don’t exactly know what Taehyung feels about this. But what I know is that they have their first game in a few days and he hasn’t been doing well. Coach has been going really hard on him. You should go talk to him, yeah?”

“Yoongi,” you whisper helplessly, “I’m scared.”

“I know.”

He puts his hand atop yours as a form of comfort and suddenly, everything seems okay. Even if it is just in that moment.

Before you clock out of the editorial room, Yoongi sends you back with your article to vet through before giving the green light to the designers. Scrolling all the way to the bottom of the document, you realise that Yoongi hasn’t fixed anything at all to the point that you wonder if he has accidentally sent the wrong version. Until you spot his message at the bottom in really tiny font because you know, Yoongi.

I said that you’re the only person who could cover this feature article and I wasn’t wrong. Well done. Hope you know that I’ll always have your back, alive or dead.

You decide to drop by football practice the next day. Lurking near the bleachers, you jump in horror when Jungkook spots you being suspicious. From the way his eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights upon the sight of you, you know that he’s aware of the recent happenings.

“Hey,” he offers you a small smile, but you could tell from the size of the dark bags under his eyes that he is shagged to the bone.

“Hi.”

“Y/N, right? You okay?”

You let out an awkward chuckle, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because Cap is a mess?”

“Is he really?”

He laughs dryly, “Aren’t you here to confirm that?”

“Um—”

“Sorry, I just… the stress is getting to all of us. But especially to hyung. He’s being really grilled by Coach for the sudden dip in performance.”

“Right… I’m sorry… If I caused this. I just—”

Across the field, Coach’s whistle shrills through the air and you realise that it’s directed at Taehyung. From where you’re standing, his grunts are almost inaudible, but the sound of his voice still traverses the darkness of your mind.

“You know, this is the first thing hyung is being grilled by Coach. He’s always been Coach’s favourite, even right from the very start, so Coach doesn’t really know how to deal with him either. Hyung’s even worse than his freshman self. You know, hyung didn’t know shit about football when he first joined? It was a joke. He really worked his way up, even though all he wanted was just to play on the field.”

A sudden prick of guilt pinches at your chest.

“Hey Jungkook, could you do me a favour? Could you pass this to him? You can just leave it on top of his bag? I think he’ll know.”

When Taehyung hobbles into the locker room feeling like death after a vigorous grilling session, his legs almost collapse on the floor. But then he sees a lunch box atop his bag and runs towards it, huffing louder than usual, so hard that he feels like his lungs might collapse like his legs. And when he opens it, only to see a nicely packed strawberry sandwich with a little post-it note on top of it, he lets out a huge breath and for the first time in years after his grandmother’s passing, Taehyung cries.  

Don’t tell your grandparents (sorry!) but these are Japanese strawberries. Good luck for Sat, Yeontannie and I believe in your galaxy 💜

A big commotion startles Taehyung from his mandatory quiet time that he sets aside before each game. He’ll put on his headphones and play his jazz playlist to meditate for at least a good 10 minutes, allowing both his muscles and mind to rest. But even his noise-cancelling headphones can do so much in blocking out his rambunctious and adrenaline-filled teammates.

“Captain! Your girlfriend’s here!”

“Captain!”

“Tae!”

“Wha—”

Before Taehyung could even remove his headphones to bark at his teammates for disturbing his peace, the door that swings open reveals his very confusion, rendering him utterly speechless.

He sees you standing there with an apprehensive expression, looking out of place as fuck, and if it’s possible, Taehyung can hear the gears in your brain turning frantically from here.

When your eyes land on Taehyung sitting across the room, the first thought that pops into your mind is that it feels like eons since you’ve last seen his face. It’s only been a few days, but you miss seeing him. You miss him so fucking badly.

He looks tired. There are dark circles painting his under-eyes and frown lines on his forehead and that doesn’t sit well with you, because there’s always either an annoying smirk or a bright smile plastered on his face.

For moments and moments, your eyes rest on the boy in front of you, drinking in his presence – the coruscating eyes and pretty lips behind his inspired, untiring voice.

“Hi,” he breathes with an indifferent expression, removing his headphones hastily before he stands up to close the gap between the two of you. The nervous flickering of your eyes doesn’t escape his notice.

“Hey,” you whisper back, lips quivering. There are many more words on the tip of your tongue, but the prevailing fear that catches in your throat freezes your lungs.

The boys have filed out of the locker room to give you two some privacy and now the world is basking in their awkward, ricocheting off the window in a quiet plea for noise. It is so quiet that if you focus more, you could hear the erratic thumping of your heart.

“How’s your article?” Taehyung asks and silence comes to splinter like a stone thrown at a wall, colliding with it and shattering like lightning bolts.

A frown settles itself on your temple at how he is trying to make everything seem all right. How the first thing he does is ask you about your article when you’re the one clearly at fault and he isn’t even showing signs of anger towards you. How could he be so selfless?

“It’s fine,” you mumble, “But I’m not here to…. I’m…”

Without warning, you go on your toes and reach for the rosy flesh on his mouth. At your touch, his entire body softens. It feels like there’s a cavernous hole in his aching heart.

“I’m sorry, Tae.”

Taehyung gives you a little nod, his way of saying it’s okay, before closing his eyes until they disappear in the shadows of his long black lashes.

You kiss him with profound earnestness that had been missing during the first kiss, dusting kisses over every inch of his blushing features, until you’re breathless, dizzy with want. There’s this inexplicable spark of desire growing within you and warming your body from inside out. Your heart longs for him, marvels in how right it feels to be in his arms, to kiss him, to be as close to him as possible.

Gosh, you’ve missed this so much.

Taehyung’s hands find your face, cradling your cheeks as if you’re the most delicate flower he has ever encountered, as if your petals would tear apart if he wasn’t gentle with you. He doesn’t look away from your eyes, searching your gaze silently. Now that you’re here, standing right in front of his very eyes, it makes everything all the more painful.

You move your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him into another gentle kiss, falling onto him like moonlight on a window seat.

“Princess…” He calls for you, voice deep and huskier than you’d ever heard it, and the timber of it sends shivers raking down your spine, “You know that I’m physically incapable of being angry or upset with you.”

The two of you move silently in each other's orbits, solitary planets in a lonely galaxy.

“I’m sorry for everything,” you whisper against his lips as his fingers play with the hem of your shirt.

“Hey, it’s okay, love. I’m just happy that you’re here.”

More words are lost on his tongue as he seizes the opportunity to drink in the sight of you, his eyes trace the outline of your visage, from the curve of your nose to the arch of your philtrum and down to the soft of your lips.

“Are we just going to stare at each other until the buzzer rings?” You joke.

���Can I? I haven’t looked at your face enough lately,” he laughs, “Missed your face. A lot.”

His eyelashes brush against his cheeks, following the stare of your eyes into deep brown irises. When he leans a fraction of a space closer, his bangs brush softly against your forehead.

“Taehyung…” You breathe out, reaching out to caress his face, fingers brushing away his bangs from his eyes, “Can I ask you something?”

“As a friend or a reporter?”

“Neither,” you reply, “I just wanted to know… Since when?”

“Since when?” He tilts his head.

“Since when did you start having feelings for me?”

He laughs like it’s an obvious question, tugging the fallen strand of your hair behind your ears. His expression is hard to decipher, it’s a combination of amusement and endearment, but he is smiling so widely that it’s almost blinding.

“I’ve always liked you, Y/N. Remember when Yoongi-hyung introduced you to me and you were angry about something?”

“I’m always angry about something.”

“I thought you were interesting as fuck.”

“You’re fucking weird.”

“Okay, but can you at least tell me why you hated me?”

“Fine. It’s because… Iwasjealousathowyou’regoodateverything.”

“W-What?”

“I was jealous… because you’re good at everything. Like without even trying. And I thought it was plain unfair, because people like me need to work so hard to do well, while there are people like you who are just… born talented.”

“I—”

“But after getting to know you, I realised that I’ve completely misunderstood you. You hide a lot of things about yourself, but you’re incredibly humble and hardworking even though you’re fucking annoying and cocky. And you’re so selfless, you offer help to your teammates when you notice them struggling. And you’re also so nice to everyone, you make them feel comfortable. Y-You kind of bring light to everyone around you. That’s just your charm, I guess.”

You reach out to hold his hand, but he beats you to it, taking your palm into his. He starts playing with your fingers, mapping every whorl of the ridges on your fingertips.

“Remember the day Yoongi introduced us to each other? It was also the day I failed my scholarship interview. I was up against you and there was only one slot left. You got it, so when you were teasing me for being grumpy, I kind of took my anger out on you. Felt like you were making fun of me.”

“Shit,” he curses under his breath, “I was smiling at you because I found you cute, dumbass. I kept pestering Yoongi-hyung to introduce me to you so when he finally, I was so nervous and didn’t know how to behave in front of you. I didn’t even know that I was up against you for the scholarship.”

When Yoongi first introduced you to Taehyung, he thought that you two would hit off long. But he didn’t take into account the fact that Taehyung and you are polar opposites – your petulance and Taehyung’s happy-go-lucky attitude is a stark juxtaposition. So when Taehyung opened his mouth and told Yoongi (right in front of you, bitch) that you looked like you were about to cry, his chin tilted up slightly, one eyebrow cocked, right after you found out that you failed your scholarship, so it was a straight-up no for Kim.

“Well, we’re both dumb.”

You look away in faux-annoyance, desperately trying to prevent your cheeks from igniting under the warm gaze that deftly lights upon you. “Long story short: I’m mean and I don’t deserve you.”

He cups your face with a smile so bright that his nose scrunches up adorable, “What are you on about? We were made to complete the living hell of each other.”

This prompts another fond smile to play on your lips, one so tight it hurts your cheeks.

When you realise that time’s running out, you tip-toe to press another kiss on his cheek, “For good luck. Go out there and get the trophy for me, bitch.”

The smile you give is soft and pink-cheeked, but familiar in every kind of way and for the umpteenth time, Taehyung gets the fucking air truly knocked out of his lungs. He’s a goner.

“You know,” his eyes are soft and there’s a wisp of a smile on his rosy lips, “I’ll get you the moon if you asked. But you deserve so much more than just the moon, Princess.”

If there’s one thing you know, it’s that you have almost always wanted to kiss Kim Taehyung. From the very start. And if there’s one thing that you don’t, it’s that the same boy will almost always kiss you back until you’re drowning in honey.

After Taehyung receives the trophy and lifts it high in the air for everyone to see with his teammates cheering around him, the entire ordeal almost has you in tears and you run to him, pressing kisses and bites down necks and collarbones. The ministrations don’t stop even when the two of you waltz-dance and skip all the way to his apartment, never getting enough of each other’s touches.

Taehyung’s fingers knot in your hair, controlling the kiss, his other hand finding purchase on the curve of your waist and teeth digging into the swell of your lower lip. You let out a whine that only encourages Taehyung to press against you closer and kiss you harder, in such a primal way that has heat swirling in your belly and wetness to pool between your thighs.

Your fire to him is the most peerless of lights.

Adrenaline runs through his entire body, lighting up his nerves like fireworks as he removes your shirt and openly soaks in the sight of your body, how your breasts are cupped by your lacey bra and how you’re blushing fervently.

“So pretty for me. All for me.”

You don’t miss the way he growls and licks his lips, eyes hooded as he stares at you like you’re a piece of meat that he can’t wait to devour. And his actions prove his ardent hunger when he grabs your chin and tilts it to the side, before attaching his lips greedily to the skin on your neck and licking a stripe over the flesh. He carries on nibbling on the sensitive part of your skin, sucking and biting in a way that is sure to leave you crying for more.

“Wow, and I thought you’d be tired after the game.”

He is already breathing heavily as he towers over you, biting back his moans, rocking his hips upwards for some needed friction.

“Can’t be tired when I’m just getting started with you.”

He pushes you onto the bed and comes crawling to hover over you within seconds as he connects his lips aggressively with your neck once more. While he continues to suck faint lilac bruises into your skin, you can’t help but jut your hips firmly against his, an instinctive reaction to feel more of him.

He groans loudly and this spurs you to give another experimental roll of your hips over his. This time he freezes and accidentally bites down on your neck a little harder than before which earns another sharp gasp from you, but this only douses the flames licking your abdomen. He leans back to apologise, but his words are lost at the tip of his tongue when you continue to grind against him shamelessly. His hands fall to your hips, nails digging firmly in place, and holds you down against his raging boner that now pokes at your inner thighs.

Thrashing in Taehyung’s grip, you sit up, hands finding the courage to explore the soft material of his shirt. Running your fingers over the buttons, you hastily tug it off him, lingering your fingers over his bare skin that you desperately want to kiss with your lips, lick with your tongue and mark with your teeth as yours.

You feel his hunger swallow you whole, his gaze leaving trails of fire as they run all over your body, electrifying you all over.

“Can I eat you out?” His voice is deep, much huskier than ever, and the timber of it sends shivers raking down your spine.

“God, why did you ever think that I would say no?”

In the briefest of moments, Taehyung tugs your shorts down with a grunt. Your eyes lock briefly, heat blooming like a stove burner, flaring up with that low flickering blue when you notice the pure, unadulterated lust in his concupiscent eyes. Fizzy warmth floods your belly, the knot of lust tightening within your abdomen.

His hands rub at your thighs, spreading them widely as he moves down the expanse of your body. There’s a raw power hidden in his hands and it’s tantalisingly arousing to feel those fingertips pressing into the meat of your thighs, wandering under you to squeeze at your ass.

Leaning in, he begins to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses over your bare torso, before trailing lower to your inner thighs and giving them a few kitten licks. You squirm underneath him at the intimacy, while an involuntary gasp leaves your lips at the sensation of his warm breath and lips dusting across your sensitive skin. The sudden stimulation leaves you aching for his lips to be somewhere else, somewhere where it’s throbbing to be touched, to be filled.

Taehyung seems to sense exactly what you want and the next thing you know, you’re falling back onto your elbows and his nose is pressed into the cotton of your underwear. He inhales deeply and groans, eyes cloudy with lust and pleasure, relishing the unbidden scent of your arousal.

Fucking hell.

The hot of his tongue starts teasing your bud through the sheer fabric, sucking through your underwear. Timidly, you lift your lips up, seeking for friction, but Taehyung doesn’t relent, pushing you back down.

“Gotta be patient, Princess.”

When he finally, like finally, removes your soaked underwear, he dips his head between your thighs and licks a long, languid strip along your folds. This elicits a loud keen from you, hips bucking but he winds his arms under your legs and over your hips to properly restrain you. He begins slowly again, lapping up your juices like a man starved, his satisfied whimpers sending vibrations straight to your clit.

“You smell so fucking good,” he continues on to wrap his plush lips around your clit, growling against your pussy and you feel it vibrate deep in your core, “But taste even fucking better.”

Ecstasy washes over you and you cry out, pleasure hot and sharp shooting through your veins to feed the tightening coil in your abdomen as you writhe in his iron grasp, fingers grasping for purchase at his hair.

“Can fucking eat you out all day, want to bet?”

His teeth scrape lightly against the nub when he speaks, and your back arches at the pleasure. He continues to slurp up whatever you offer him, before giving in to your unspoken request, trailing a finger up your folds and sliding it in.

You’ve always known that Taehyung has long, slender fingers – you’ve noticed how long and pretty they are when they’re wrapped around the football, when he waves to you and when he plays with your fingers. And perhaps, you’ve thought about him doing things to you with those fingers before, but now that he has his finger in you, you cannot emphasise how otherworldly it feels. Fucking delirious.

His long digit meets no resistance, instantly enveloped in the tight, slick heat of your core as he goes in knuckle-deep and adds another finger, and it makes you feel so full that you’re losing your mind. You scream even more when he fucks you deep with both his knuckles and the flat of his hot tongue, bringing the inklings of stars behind your eyes.

His fingers continue to pump into you in a quicker succession that has you trembling and keening. Your pussy gushes at his merciless, erratic flicks and pokes at your hot spots, clenching around his fingers and soaking them in your intoxicating sweetness. Shockwaves begin to tear through you and you’re coming too hard and too fast. But Taehyung doesn’t stop and continues to suck harder to help you ride out the pleasure, the squelch of his tongue lapping at your juices filling the entire room in their entirety.

“Please, Tae, please I’m c-close. Your fingers… Fuck. Feel so good. Fuck, fuck!”

You’re dripping, leaking even by now and when he detaches away from your clit to look at you, you can see your own juices glisten on his lips, dribble down to his chin, and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. The throb in your core has never been more torturous.

He leans in to give your clit another chaste kiss and your hips buck up instantly into his face as he gathers the arousal onto his tongue, tasting the heavenly mix of your juices and his saliva.

“Does Princess want to taste how sweet she is? Princess likes my fingers, doesn’t she?” He purrs, coating your juices with his fingers and holding them up so you can see how they coruscate in the dim light.

Nodding hazily, you open your mouth and he doesn’t hesitate to slide three of his digits in and you suck the evidence of your own bliss off his skin, enjoying your own taste and the weight and fit of his slender fingers in your mouth. Taehyung swallows in satisfaction and fervour at how dirty you look.

“Fuck, Y/N. Can’t wait to fuck you. Going to fuck you so good you can’t walk for days.”

A spark of a fire in the very core of your being, beginning to fizzle outward at his words.

Without warning, he pounces onto you, planting kisses on your jawline and down your neck again. When you crane your neck to give him more space, he takes his time, hard muscle of his tongue lapping at your sweet skin, lips sucking until a bruise begins to bloom.

“So fucking beautiful, God,” he croons, threading his fingers through your hair as he groans at how hot this is.  

“Taehyung,” you breathe, looking up through your eyelashes, vision hazy with lust, “Want your fat cock in my fucking mouth. Please?”

Taehyung grunts loudly at your crude request, rolling his eyes in a mixture of disbelief and pleasure. He wants your words, this exact memory, to be burned into the very cells of his brain.

“Yeah? Princess wants my dick?”

Pushing his sweats and underwear down with swift fingers, you watch how his dick slaps hard against his stomach. It is searing red at the tip, the head thicker than the shaft, begging to be touched.

You want to fucking sit on it, suck him till you’ve milked him of all his cum. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before, not when his long fingers are wrapped around his fat cock, giving it a couple of quick strokes. Fuck, his fingers can barely wrap around his dick and that itself makes you dizzy with arousal.

“Open wide, sweetie.”

You throw yourself in front of his thighs, mouth wide, sticking your tongue out in anticipation. You can’t help but moan out loud when Taehyung slaps the head of his dick against your cheek, spreading precum all over, and then on your tongue, before slowly feeding you his cock. Fuck, you feel so dirty.

Taehyung’s cock rests heavy on your tongue, throbbing in the wet heat of your mouth. You lick a long stripe with your tongue on the underside of his length, feeling the very veins that have popped out.

He doesn’t believe that it’s happening. He can’t, not at how he has dreamt about this more times than he can count with both hands, and now it is actually fucking happening.

He grunts, “Dreamt about this so many times. You have no idea how many times I’ve jerked off to this.”

“Jerked off to what?” You tease as your fingers wrap themselves around the base of Taehyung’s dick to keep it steady, massaging his balls every now and then, as you suck noisily around the tip. Running your tongue along the side of his shaft and then back up to swirl your tongue at his slit to lick at his precum, you rejoice in the almost pained whine he lets out.

“Jerked off to you on your knees, looking pretty as fuck, while sucking my fat cock,” he smirks, without blinking an eye at the announcement of his fantasy.

Shuddering at his words, you start to bob your head, taking a little more of him every time you go down until you’re choking and your eyes are watering.

“Fuck yeah, just like that. Does Princess want me to fuck her throat? Feel so full and good?”

A low groan rumbles from deep within his throat, bordering on animalistic, which sends tremors of desire to thrum through your veins.

Peering up through fluttering lashes at Taehyung with your plush lips stretched wide around him, you smile at his fucked-out expression and proceed to alternate licking between his balls and his hard shaft.

When you take his cock into your mouth again, you purr at the fullness of him, opening your mouth wider to take him deeper until he’s fucked himself to the hilt of your throat, your nose buried in the tussock of cleanly trimmed pubic hair at his navel.

“Not so snarky anymore now with my cock in your mouth, huh?”

You don’t reply. The darkness in your eyes is enough to send a punch of heat straight into the pit of Taehyung’s gut and he can’t help but buck his hips forward, sliding right into the wet, hot vice of your throat, fucking right into your throat ruthlessly, leaving you a whimpering, writhing mess.

You don’t stop suckling with your lips, coating his length in saliva and then pull off with a little 'pop’, your hands still working at the base of Taehyung’s cock, fondling his balls.

“C-Cum,” your lips gleam in saliva and precum, “Please… Cum on my face.”

“Want me to come all over your face, doll? You’re so fucking dirty.”

Taehyung grips at his cock, stroking it a few times, before he taps his cock against your cheek again. His mind is sent in turmoil when you stick your tongue out and before he knows it, he’s ejaculating in thick spurts all over your face.

You look so fucking pretty with globs of white all over your chin and cheek and Taehyung shivers in ecstasy, a growl ready at the back of his throat, “Y-You really have no idea what you do to me.”

You lick off what he can, relishing in the taste of Taehyung as you swipe your thumb over your mouth to coat it with his cum and suck on it, while your other hand reaches behind to squeeze his ass.

“You weren’t kidding about your ass,” you whirl, slapping his ass and loving the way it jiggles.

“Yeah? It’s all yours, Princess.”

Taehyung traces the knobs on the base of your spine with his other hand, finding warm and soft skin. You let out another desperate sound against your lips, feeling a shock of electricity zip through your back down to your very core.  

Arching your back, you throw your head back and Taehyung takes this opportunity and slips his tongue in the hot wet of your mouth and licks fervently at the four corners, rougher and needier this time round.

It’s as if all at once, something connects between you two. You find it impossible to breathe properly, hands fisted in Taehyung’s locks, dizzy and lightheaded and hot all over. Taehyung’s teeth scrape over your bottom lip. It’s almost impossible to pull away, but when you finally break apart, a strand of saliva connects your mouths together and it lands on your chest.

“Fuck, so dirty,” Taehyung’s eyes are golden, blown wide, and he smiles at you so dearly that it makes your chest gnaw. It’s the littlest of moments and softest of gasps that render you breathless. Every part of your body that Taehyung has touched feels like it’s on fire, but it’s the deep timber of his voice, almost a growl, that makes you feel like he’s melting.

“So wet for me.”

He yearns to memorize the map of your body, the trenches of the grooves on your lower back, the stars living in your eyes, the parts of your body that have you shuddering from the pleasure.

You can feel it, the tip of his cock brushing against your wetness and you let out a soft plea. Your stomach ties into a knot when he slaps his dick against your clit a few times, loving how his head is already soaked by your juices. When you search for his eyes, you see that his irises are long gone, blanketed with pure, unadulterated lust.

“Want you. Want you to fuck me with your fat cock, Tae.”

He has to bite his own flesh to suppress the feral moan threatening to drip from his swollen, red lips, “Fucking hell. Can’t believe you used to hate me. Now here you are, begging me to fuck you.”

Your breath hitches when you feel him enter you, his cock pushing against your walls and stretching you out so good. He eases his cock slowly until it fills you the brim, pushing against your hot walls until he can go no further.

“You’re so tight for me. Feels fucking good,” he breathes out with a hazy smile, and your eyes flutter closed.

He doesn’t move for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the stretch and burn, before the wriggle of your hips urges him to move and he knows that he’s about to take you higher than ever. He lifts his lips to almost pull all the way out, the tip nestling an inch within your entrance, and without warning, slams back into your cunt, drawing a choked moan from the both of you as his length drags against your walls and hits a spot deep inside you.

Your back arches off the bed at the pleasure, a sharp cry leaving your lips.

“Fuck yeah, you like that princess? Going to be a good girl for me?”

“Yes, yes! Fuck Taehyung. You feel so good.”

This only prompts him to repeat the movement a few more times, until he settles on pounding into you mercilessly with a precision that he flaunts on the field. He continues fucking into that same sensitive spot over and over again with no signs of slowing down, finally able to fulfil the primal, animalistic need and urge that has accumulated ever since the day he met you.

As his hips snap into yours, his palm remains gentle on your face, his tongue hot and assimilating your own so passionately and tenderly that it makes your heart melt. There’s just something so tangibly tender and sensual about the way he’s kissing you, while fucking you senseless, as if he wants you to know how much he wants this, how much he wants to give himself to you with each stroke.

How much love he has to devote to you.  

“Faster, faster, don’t stop, Taehyung. Fuck.”

You can feel every drag of Taehyung’s thick cock inside you, his ridges sliding against your walls and hitting that little bundle of nerves inside you that has got you babbling nonsense and your eyes rolled all the way up.

Screwing your eyes closed, the sparks glow brighter, and your moans heighten in pitch, while you sink your teeth into the swollen flesh of your lower lip. Above you, Taehyung learns that your mouth is sinful from the way you’re repeating curses and cries like a mantra and from the way drool is dripping down your chin. It’s just how unbelievably rough he’s fucking you, rough enough that you’re convinced there will be bruises all over your body and he’s going to rip you apart. But maybe that’s what you want, maybe that’s exactly what Taehyung intends to do to you.

“Say please.”

He then sits up and leans back to rest on his calves, before he hikes your leg up to rest over his shoulder, effectively folding you into half, and pulls you towards him roughly to fuck into you harder. You keen loudly at the new angle, how he’s able to fuck into you so much deeper, hands clawing at the sheets and dragging long, red marks on his back.

“Please, Taehyung. Please, you fuck me so fucking good.”

He smirks at how helpless you are underneath him and frees his hand from your thigh, reaching to search for yours, intertwining them tightly.

Which each thrust, the both of you grow closer to your impending orgasms, excitement curling in your abdomen along with pleasure that shoots straight to your core as Taehyung continues to pummel into your welcoming heat, strong thighs trembling against the backs of yours.

His other hand rest on your hips as his fingers squeeze and caress your skin each time you curse and whimper his name lasciviously, blending in with the symphony of skin slapping against skin, of his balls and thighs smacking against your ass that stirs the silence.

“I’m on the pill. Cum inside me, please. Want your hot cum in me.”

“Princess wants to be my personal cum-dumpster, doesn’t she?”  

Taehyung dips his head over your chest and takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking it lavishly as if the taste of you is suddenly too much to bear. You wail in pleasure, back arched all the way up, the grip on his hand tightening as your hips rise to meet the brutal thrusts of his hips, pleasure shooting white hot to join the heated desire in your core.

That’s all you need to lurch over the edge. The coil within your core suddenly snaps with the tension and then comes the onslaught of immense white-hot pleasure, curling and roaring like a beast in your stomach, the pressure between your legs immeasurably high. You clamp around him one last time, galaxies firing in the murky red of your eyelids as he coaxes you through your orgasm.

You know Taehyung’s close too – now faster, more erratic, as he chases his release relentlessly. For a moment, all you can see is glorious light, blinding your vision until it consumes you whole and you’re shaking ferociously.  

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when Taehyung comes hard with a harsh shudder and an animalistic growl from between his clenched teeth, thrumming at his warm seed inside you. He isn’t done with you yet though. When he pulls out, the emptying sensation of his cock being drawn out of your walls gives rise to another wail from you, but you forget all over it when he rubs the swollen tip of his dick against your clit in a circular movement, playing to its sensitivity and pushing in his cum inside you again. His personal cum-dumpster.

Taehyung kisses you once more just because he can, and then lets his eyes run over the girl in front of him and his mind goes blank because wow, that actually happened – and it certainly did, evident from the mussed hair, blown hazy pupils, lovebites all over flustered skin and the soft, dreamy smile belonging to a pair of swollen-red lips.

This, Taehyung registers despite the giddy turbulence in his mind, is the most beautiful smile he has ever seen. So unbelievably, heart-wrenchingly beautiful that he can feel something in his chest splinter.

There’s a passing second of staring at each other, your cheek deep in the pillow, his head lulled against the headboard.

Taehyung lets out a chuckle, airy and filled with a rasp of post-sleep that would never come. He moves slowly, creaking the mattress in droning successions as he slips his arm around your waist, dusting little kisses on your nose before bringing up your hand to his lips. You realise that he likes doing that.

He stares at you for a long while, thumb over the back of your hand in tandem with the flick of his eyes, back and forth, between yours.

Even in the dark, Taehyung’s lovely flush is brilliant, otherworldly effervescent.  

“You know when you said those things to Yoongi, I knew you said it out of a fit, but I couldn’t help but be upset about it.”

“Tae—”

His lips quirk upward on the edges into something knowing, “Then I realised that this was the first time I was genuinely upset about someone’s opinion about me. I usually don’t care what people think of me. I mean I don’t live to impress them, so this made me realised that I actually care a lot about what you think about me. About how you feel about me, whether I’m just a dumb fuckboy to you or whether you see the real me.”

He presses another kiss to your knuckles and your entire body tingles with warmth, “Then it hit me. That you know, maybe I really, really do have feelings for you and I want you to like me too. Like for real. I know I said that I don’t have the time and energy to deal with feelings. But you… You drive me insane. I used to be cynical about being so vulnerable for someone, and it’s so scary how much you can yearn for someone’s attention and affection. It’s just crazy – the things you do to me.”

As his words spill into the spaces between you, you simmer in the comfortable silence, ignoring the sharp tugs at your heartstrings.

“Never thought I’d live to see this day,” he mumbles, before pressing a kiss to your forehead with an earnestness that heightens the tugs at your heartstrings.

“Talk about character development,” you joke, burying your face in his chest and finding solace in the warmth of the sweet honey gold that he possesses. His hand on your waist begins caressing the small of your back, bringing you closer to him, until his nose is settled in the crook of your neck.

“Looks like my YOLO-ing did me some good,” he whispers into your ear and there’s a resplendent lilt to his voice.

It takes you a while for you to realise that he’s referring to the fake quote you’ve assigned to him.

Taehyung smiles at your deadpan expression and it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. His mouth is pulled into a rectangle and his eyes are curved into crescents. You realise this a long time ago, but you will finally admit to it now – Taehyung is beautiful. He is so beautiful that he could rearrange continent with that smile of his.

When he laughs and the moonlight catches on the flecks of gold in melted brown, that’s when you know that you’re struck with a love the size of the entire galaxy for him. To hell with your past hatred and feud with him, you’re just grateful to have your entire universe lying right beside you, right in this moment, under the burning light of the great, yellow moon that hangs heavy and radiant above the two of you.

that’s it. that’s the mammoth i’ve been brewing over the past few months (and rushing it like mad over the past two weeks)! i wanted to depict tae as accurately as possible so i made sure to include the little tiny details and quirks of his ;; did you know that he was the one who coined the term bread cheeks??? there’s a video of him comparing his cheeks to bread buns and i think that started the entire trend i’m just. i never want tae to be sad he has the purest and biggest heart

thank you so much for reading this and if you enjoyed it, please please hit that like or reblog button or/and hmu in my inbox/dms! ♡ i love receiving asks and messages tho sometimes ;; i just disappear from the face of the earth. i literally post a fic every 6 months sobs but next up sugarplum elegy (and i promise i won’t take another 6 months, my aim to upload it is end june!) love you guys  much and remember to take care of yourself – i believe in your galaxy ☁️💫💜💞🌃✨

[a-froger-epic]

NASTALLY'S ❇️Q U E E N❇️ FIC

📝 = (semi-)regular updates

❓= will update eventually

🧊 = on ice

✅ = complete

Freddie Mercury/Roger Taylor

Froger - Love & Sex (18+):

Dawn of Aquarius [the epic] ✅ - Roger and Freddie meet in 1969 and change each other's lives. (romance, sexual awakening, coming of age, YA drama, period-typical homophobia, family drama, realism)

Good Company ✅ - collab with @quirkysubject The Queen boys accidentally on purpose watch porn together. (friends to... still friends but with interesting wanking habits, internalised homophobia, pining, humour)

Dreams of Tomorrow 📝- collab with @tikiniki A mad, medieval fantasy adventure with the Queen boys. (troubadour AU, adventure, fantasy, friendship, magic, origin stories, vikings, battles, a donkey called Tootsie)

Dawn of the Living Dead ❓ - It's the zombie apocalypse in 1971. (horror, dark comedy, blood & gore, insanity, friendship)

The Miracle ❓ - A slightly different take on the A/B/O trope. (mpreg, friends to lovers, kid!fic, parenthood, emotional realism, discrimination)

the eye of the beholder ✅ - Roger buys a video camera. (established relationship, script format, humour, light-hearted)

Time Waits for No One ✅ - collab with @bisexualroger Freddie and Roger's relationship through the years. (Christmas themed, sad, life has no happy endings, grief, acceptance, breakup, lovers to friends, death)

Sehnsucht 🧊 - Roger visits Freddie in Munich. They have a past. (Inspired by Dawn of Aquarius, pining, friendship, life has no happy endings, hurt/comfort, but mostly hurt)

Froger - Love:

A Kind of Magical Adventure (and the Spider from Mars) ❓ - collab with @plainxte​ The Doctor Who/Queen crossover nobody asked for! (friends to lovers, there was only one bed, fluffy Christmas space adventure)

The Only Exception ✅ - On a night out, something is rekindled between Roger and Freddie. (drug use, pining, past relationship, the one that got away, some humour)

Foxey ✅ - Freddie gives Roger an impromptu lapdance. (Dawn of Aquarius missing scene, fluff, humour, established relationship)

Secret ✅ - Brian is a good secret keeper. (Inspired by Dawn of Aquarius, handholding, angst and fluff, mostly fluff)

I put a spell on you (because you’re mine) ✅ - A Halloween special. (Dawn of Aquarius missing scene, breakup, angst, humour)

Incidentally Homosexual  ✅ - Roger wants to talk to Freddie about the Kinsey scale and sexuality.  (Dawn of Aquarius missing scene, internalised homophobia, pure fluff, soft boyfriends)

It’s Grim Up North (But There’s Light Up Ahead) ✅ - collab with @pumpkinlilyao3​ One time Roger saves Freddie, and one time Freddie saves Roger. (Friends to lovers, violence, slurs, angst, happy ending)

Promise ✅ - Roger and Freddie prepare for a special event in 2015. (Inspired by Dawn of Aquarius, Freddie lives, growing old together, pure fluff)

Tootsie’s Story ✅ - How Roger rescued a donkey. (Dreams of Tomorrow prequel, fantasy, adventure, troubadour AU, established relationship)

Ooh Love, ooh Loverboy… ✅ - Freddie through Roger's eyes. (established relationship, internal monologue, tooth-rotting fluff)

Romantic Drabbles ❓ - A mixed bag of Froger romance.

Froger - Porn Without Plot (18+):

A is for Amsterdam ✅ - Roger and Freddie walk into a sex shop. (Established relationship, bdsm, sex toys, dom!Roger, sub! Freddie, a bit of fluff and humour too)

B is for Bound ✅ - There's something Freddie would like to do. (Established relationship, bdsm, non-con play, dom!Roger, sub!Freddie)

C is for Control ✅ - There's something Roger would like to do. (Established relationship, mild bdsm dynamics, switching, top!Freddie, fluff)

D is for Discipline ✅ - Freddie turns a game into something a little more serious. (Spanking, bdsm, power dynamics, subspace, referenced cheating, guilt, dom drop)

Right until the ends of the Earth ✅ - Romantic piano sex. (Inspired by Dawn of Aquarius, mild bdsm dynamics, romance)

Tight Squeeze  ✅ - collab with @bambirexwrites fem!Queen; Regina and Freddie go shopping for shorts. Regina has some trouble fitting into them. Freddie helps her feel better. (Established relationship, body worship, semi-public sex)

One Fine Morning  ✅ - Freddie is trapped between two primal urges. (Established relationship, mild omorashi, morning sex)

Smutty Drabbles ❓- A mixed bag of Froger sexytimes.

Froger - Gen/shippy Gen:

Good Times (Better Times) ✅ - How Freddie met Roger, a Dawn of Aquarius prequel. (internal monologue, the Kensington pub, art student Freddie)

that special brew ✅ - That time Freddie accidentally drank marrijuana tea. (humour, Roger being a very sweet friend, light-hearted)

a joke nobody tells ✅ - Newly formed Queen dynamics or: not even Roger knows what is going on in Freddie's head. (group dynamics, insecurities, fear of failure, hurt/comfort)

Ghosts ✅ - Freddie’s arrival in Australia awakens some memories he would rather forget. (angst, referenced past sexual assault, friendship, hurt/comfort)

Including Love ✅ - Freddie and Roger love each other. But perhaps, not in that way. Or do they? (Roger-centric, character study, period-typical attitudes, male friendship, bromance)

Freddie Mercury

that which is good ❓ - Freddie meets Kenny. Two gay men struggling to find themselves, find comfort in each other’s friendship. (Angst, internalised homophobia, male friendship, hurt/comfort) 

Moments ❓ - A collection of moments in Freddie’s life. (Vignettes, angst, fluff, death, life, everything)

with my trust like a child ❓ - collab with @aboutnothingness A look at several of Freddie’s birthdays throughout his life (Hurt/no comfort, hurt/comfort, internal monologue, implied underage, heavy angst)

The God Abandons Antony [Freddie Mercury/Joe Fanelli] 🧊 - collab with @freddieofhearts​ On tour in the US, Freddie meets somebody new. (Internal monologue, angst, euphoria, new love, romance, cheating)

Rapture and Solace ✅ - 1991. (Internal monologue, fear of death, terminal illness, acceptance, background Jimercury)

to the bone (18+) ✅ - A police officer lets Freddie off the hook, in exchange for a favour. (Period-typical homophobia, abuse of power, sexual assault, hurt/no comfort)

Ménage à Deux  ✅ - An exploration of Freddie’s friendship with Barbara Valentin. (Dubcon, recreational drug use)

Naughty ✅ - Freddie's mind wanders while he poses nude for a life drawing class. (Internal monologue, some humour, internalised homophobia)

Don’t You (Walk Away) [Freddie Mercury/Winnie Kirchberger] ✅ - After a fight with Winnie, Freddie contemplates his life in Munich. (Hurt/No Comfort, toxic relationships, angst)

Freddie Love ❓ - Freddie-centric drabble collection.

Freddie Mercury/Brian May

As it Began ✅ - Freddie goes to write his dissertation at Brian's house. (Smile Era, boys with a crush, friendship, first kiss, angst, hurt/comfort)

Blacklight in Zero Gravity (18+)  ❓ - It's 2029, Freddie Mercury is working as a stripper and one night, the mysterious Brian May walks into his life. (Modern AU, sex & drugs, pining, humour, angst, fluff, romance, morally grey characters, smut)

Click! ✅ - Freddie meets a guy he just can’t get off his mind at work. (Modern AU, photographer!Freddie, model!Brian, social media, humour, meet cute)

the sun and moon and stars are you ✅ - Freddie and Brian are expecting, and getting ready for a Halloween party. (trans!Freddie AU, pregnancy, humour, fluff)

The Sound of Your Fear ✅ - Brian and Freddie stay in a very creepy hotel. (Ghost story, terror, haunted house, platonic/pre-slash Maycury)

Dreams of Tomorrow (18+) [Maycury, Froger, Joger] 📝 - collab with @tikiniki​ A mad, medieval fantasy adventure with the Queen boys. (troubadour AU, adventure, fantasy, friendship, magic, origin stories, vikings, battles, a donkey called Tootsie)

Freddie Mercury/Jim Hutton

Maybe I’m Amazed ✅ - Freddie is upset about an argument with Jim, who surprises him. (Angst, hurt/comfort, romance and fluff)

Interlude ✅ - Freddie has a great time at his 39th birthday party - for the most part. (Angst, non-consentual drug use, hopeful ending)

Sticks and Stones ✅ - Freddie reads a headline she wishes she hadn’t seen. (Fem!Jimercury, body image, fluff, happy ending)

Other Ships

Dawn of the Living Dead (18+) [Poly!Queen & Froger] ❓ - It's the zombie apocalypse in 1971. (horror, dark comedy, blood & gore, insanity, friendship, smut)

Kneel Down by Your Side and Pray [Maylor & Johnica] 🧊 - collab with @quirkysubject @tikiniki and @plainxte In a dystopian world where slavery is the norm, four young men struggle with their circumstances. (Dystopian AU, violence, blood & gore, sexual abuse, angst, friendship, hurt/no comfort, pining)

Sacrifice (18+) [Maylor] ✅ - Roger is being sacrificed to the God of Fertility. (Fantasy AU, humour, Monty Python-esque, technically non-con but not angsty, satire)

Colour Me Surprised [Joger] ✅ - Roger helps John with his make-up. (Yearning, gay panic)

a bona cackle [OMC/OMC, background Froger] ✅ - Dawn of Aquarius spin-off ficlet. A phone conversation in Polari. (Period-typical attitudes, queer history)

Gen

and the rest is history ✅ - The day John Deacon auditioned for Queen. 

lazing on a sunny afternoon  ✅ - A short, sweet fem!Queen ficlet.

The Sound and the Fury ✅ - collab with @quirkysubject​ Roger is struggling when the past catches up with him. Brian is a good friend. (hurt/comfort, friendship, angst)

Not Like Other Groups ✅ - Queen escape from an angry gang of skinheads by means of a car chase. (humour, friendship, action)

Maple Leaves ✅ - John struggles with Freddie’s illness. (heavy angst, death, grief)

Non-Fiction

Interview With A Queen “Groupie” - I interviewed a lady who knew the Queen boys back when she was at Ealing Art School. Yes, really.

[recurring-polynya]

hello ms. polynya! if you are still taking drabble requests and are in the mood for it, I would love to see more of the mall AU (yes, THAT mall AU lmao). bonus points for more omnidirectional horny teenage pining, because that first mall AU drabble nearly made me cry laughing and I’ve been thinking about it ever since. p.s. re: that fanfic author meme—my favorite story of yours is hold on, hold on! closely followed by call me back when the war is over :)

(cont’d)

mall au anon again, realizing I forgot to send like half of what I wanted to request because I got too excited (durr hurr): would love the ensemble cast/lieutenant goon squad because I really enjoy how you riff off of these characters, and/or renji and izuru being dumb friends and also wrangling their Big Crushes. no pressure to fill this though, thanks for being wonderful and generous 💖

I saved this one ‘til last so I would have something to look forward to. I love the Mall Goths AU, it is my greatest pleasure in life to write a bunch of undead shonen badasses as dorky teens trying to ask their crushes to prom.

Thank you to @alopexplasma, who came up with the name of Renji's car. I compulsively write Renji driving a Camaro in every AU I can conceivably shoehorn it into, and somehow, the incredibly obvious name never occurred to me. I am a moron.

Read on ao3 or ff.net

(if you haven’t read the original, read Ch 7 first, either site will do)

💘     💌     💘

Renji folded his hands on his knees and leaned forward, regarding Izuru very, very seriously. “Look, as you know, I don’t have any money, or... connections, or… well, anything, really, but you know that if you got cancer or were in a car wreck or something, any organs that I have two of, like kidneys or lungs? One of them would be yours, man. Bone marrow? I have so much bone marrow, and you can have as much of it as you want.”

“You know,” Momo pointed out, setting two paper cups down on the table, “if you marry Rukia someday, you will be absolutely rolling in it. I brought you coffee.”

“I assume she would want a pre-nup,” Renji replied very philosophically. “Which I respect.”

Izuru rolled his eyes and picked up his coffee. Just before taking a sip, he remembered. “Is this just the sludge that collects at the bottom of the airpot again?”

“Could be,” Momo tried to sound innocent.

“Oh, boy, my favorite!” Renji announced. “It’s so good, you just have to put, like, six creamers in. You want some creamers, Izuru?”

“I’ll pass,” Izuru said, pushing the coffee away. “Why can’t we do this in the game store, again?”

“Because Rukia hangs out at the game store!”

Instead, they were in the Barnes and Noble, where Momo worked in the cafe. Nothing personal to Momo, but Izuru hated the Barnes and Noble. It felt so bland and corporate, and smelled like new carpet, and he always felt like he should buy something if he was going to hang out there (not that he ever did). Besides, the couch was comfier at the game store.

“Just do this for him,” Momo implored, while Renji dug through the creamers, trying to find six that matched.

“It’s not that I don’t want to do it,” Izuru explained. “It’s that I think it’s a bad idea. You have been friends with Rukia since, what, fifth grade?”

“Third grade.”

“Third grade. Right. You sit next to her in class. You eat lunch with her. You talk to her all the time. Just say, ‘hey, Rukia, I really like you, will you go to prom with me?’ There’s no way she can look into your dumb puppy eyes and say no. Tell him, Momo.”

“Izuru’s certainly right about the puppy eyes.”

Renji sighed. “You don’t know Rukia like I do. Her family doesn’t do affection at all, and talking about feelings really scares her. If I ask her point blank like that, she’ll get defensive, and she won’t speak to me for a month, and she won’t go to prom at all, and then I’ll have to third-wheel Ikkaku and Yumichika.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Izuru pointed out. “You could…” he waved a hand vaguely. “You could take Momo.”

Momo shook her head. “Nanao and the Kotetsu sisters and I agreed to go together as gal pals,” she explained. “You could be a gal pal with us, I suppose, but only if you’re willing to coordinate outfits. You do look good in aqua.”

“Thanks,” Renji replied glumly. “Hey, I thought Rangiku was in your group, too?”

“Oh, she got a date.”

Izuru sniffed, pretending to be disinterested. If Shuuhei had finally gotten up the courage to ask Rangiku, then good for him.

“That upperclassman with the silver hair, Gin, asked her. He seems a little creepy to me, but she really likes him, and he’s friends with Aizen-sempai, so he must be a decent guy.”

Kira’s hands tightened on his knees. “She’s not going with Shuuhei?”

Renji gave him a look.

“Shuuhei says prom is lame and he’s not going,” Momo shrugged.

“I see,” Izuru frowned. “I mean, he’s not wrong.”

“He is wrong!” Renji protested. “Prom rocks. You wear fancy outfits and buy flowers for the person you like and there’s some insane theme, like Arabian Nights or Haunted Halloween Castle. You slow dance to ‘Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing’ by Aerosmith, and when it’s over you go get pancakes. What part of that isn’t awesome?”

“This year’s theme is ‘Lifetimes Past,’” Momo dryly informed him.

“Exactly. In any case, I have dreamed of taking Rukia to prom for years, are you going to help me write her a love letter or not?”

Izuru groaned. “I don’t know why Rukia gets such crummy grades, because she’s actually very smart. She is definitely going to be able to tell that you didn’t write this.”

“I know that! You think I don’t know how smart she is? Look, I just want you to write it all nice in Kira-speak, and then I’ll translate it into dumbass. Just help me get my thoughts together. You know I don’t word good, but I really think that writing it out and giving her a chance to process it on her own is the best way to go about this.”

Momo turned sad eyes on Izuru, not that his resolve wasn’t already crumbling. Abarai was a goon and a bonehead, but his devotion to his long-time best friend was tooth-rottingly sweet. Izuru would feel like a villain in a Christmas special if he said no.

“Fine. Fine. But I want you to help me get the Festiva running again and I get to approve whatever it is you’re planning on wearing to prom. It better have sleeves, for one thing.”

“Deal!” Renji replied, his face splitting into a huge grin.

Izuru turned to a clean page in his writing notebook and licked the tip of his pen. “Dear Rukia,” he narrated.

“No! Don’t put her name!”

“Don’t put her name?”

“No names. I have seen a lot of teen movies, and notes like these always end up in the wrong hands. Rukia would die if something like that happened. Or if her brother found it, he would straight up murder me and then I wouldn’t get to go to prom.”

Izuru blinked at him. “Fine. No names.” He tapped his pen against the page. “ ‘We have been friends for a long time, and I feel that the time has come for me to make a clean breast of it. You are the most important person in my life. I am utterly besotten--”

“Er, hey, um, Izuru.” The tips of Renji’s ears were very pink. “Not to say that this isn’t, um, true, but I was thinking more along the lines of ‘Do you want to go to prom? JUST AS FRIENDS’ Maybe that part could be all in caps? or underlined? We could put in some little boxes that she could just check off ‘yes’ or ‘no’ and hand it back to me?”

Izuru raised one eyebrow. “But you don’t want to go ‘just as friends.’”

“Well, that’s true, yes, but this is Rukia we’re talking about, so you kinda have to ease her into things.”

Izuru regarded Renji with lidded eyes. “You can’t even ask her to prom as friends? You’re such a coward.”

“I’m not a coward,” Renji returned, but his voice was very small.

“You’re sixteen and I do not like to throw the word ‘love’ around, but it’s very obvious that you love Rukia, and I refuse to help you ask her to the prom as friends. You don’t have to admit everything, but you have to admit something. It’s go big or go home.”

“Okay,” Renji grumbled.

“I think he’s right,” Momo said, patting Renji’s hand. “She must wonder how you feel about her from time to time. If you insist on framing it ‘as friends’, she may actually view that as a rejection of the possibility of anything romantic ever happening between the two of you.”

Renji wrinkled his nose, but didn’t say anything.

“Ahem,” Izuru cleared his throat. “Let’s put in some compliments. What are some things you like about Rukia?”

“Things he liked about Rukia” was one of Renji’s very favorite subjects, and he perked up right away. “She’s cool,” he announced. “She’s cool as hell. Write that down.”

“I think you’re cool as hell,” Izuru wrote down reluctantly. This is not your love letter, he reminded himself. No one is even going to know you had anything to do with this.

“Your hair smells really good and you’re the most creative person I know,” Renji dictated. “You have incredibly sexy biceps.”

“Renji.”

“What? She does!”

“Fine, fine. That’s probably enough compliments, we need to keep this to one page. Um, what do you regard as your primary ‘ship symbolism?”

“My what now?”

“You know. When you think about Rukia and yourself, what metaphor springs to mind? Sun and moon? Sea and sky? King and lionheart?”

Renji looked utterly perplexed.

“Momo, help me out. How do you see you and Aizen-sempai?” “Doctor and Companion,” Momo answered immediately.

Izuru made a face. “Right.”

Renji’s face was screwed up in hard thought. Izuru could practically smell circuitry frying. “Rukia is like… a star?” he finally hazarded.

“A star is good!” Momo encouraged.

“And you are…?” Izuru prompted. “The moon? The sky? A different star?”

“A Camaro?” Renji guessed. “I’m loud and I have a powerful engine.”

“How are you even in AP Literature?” Izuru groaned.

“Well, what’s your dominant simile or whatever with Shuuhei?” Renji demanded.

“Poet and warrior,” Izuru snapped back testily.

“Which one of you is the warrior?” Momo asked, wrinkling her nose. “I mean, you both work on the school newspaper.”

“Shuuhei takes tae kwon do!” Izuru insisted.

“Well, why don’t you just write in whatever you’re gonna say for the poet-warrior thing, since you’ve obviously already put a lotta thought into it,” Renji suggested. “I’ll polish up my star/sportscar metaphor and drop it in when I copy it over.”

Izuru did not like leaving the keystone of a love confession in the hands of a man who thought manual transmissions were romantic, but he had to go on shift down at the food court in half an hour. He had to keep this moving. “Fine,” he bit off. “‘You are my muse. Your strength of body and spirit inspire poetry in me. My soul sings when I am with you. If only I had your bravery, this admission would be much easier. Instead, I am sending you this shy missive to ask, from the depths of my tender heart: Will you go to the prom with me?’ Done.”

“Oh, that was so romantic,” Momo sighed. “Izuru, you should write a romance novel.”

“Never,” Izuru replied.

Renji was making a Renji face.

“You hate it.”

“It was just… pretty flowery.”

“Rewrite it however you want. ‘My soul revs at 5000 rpm for you, right before I drop my rusty bumper in your brother’s driveway again.’”

“Don’t trash talk Zabimaro!”

“I would never trash talk Zabimaro, I was trash talking the metaphorical Camaro that is your love for Rukia.” Izuru ripped the page out of his notebook and handed it over. “Here you go. I gotta go to work. Beef n’ Cheddars don’t assemble themselves.”

Renji studied the page for a moment. “Thanks, Izuru. You won’t regret this.”

“I already regret it. Good luck. I still think you should just talk to her.”

“Well, I think you should ask Shuuhei!” Renji barked out suddenly. “I know you want to! You can go to Denny’s with us afterward!”

Izuru flashed him a pitying look. “Thank you for your concern, but I happen to share the opinion that prom is lame and I have no plans to attend.”

💘     💌     💘

When Izuru walked into the gaming store the next day, Ikkaku and Iba were sitting at the front table, assembling decks of Magic cards.

“The girls took over the back,” Ikkaku grumbled bitterly as he contemplated a Thicket Basilisk.

“Is Renji here?” Izuru asked. “He said he was coming today.”

“Haven’t seen him,” Iba grunted. “Your friend Hinamori is, though.”

Izuru had been trying to maintain his usual heavy veneer of Not Caring About Abarai’s Wretched Love Life, but secretly, he was dying to know how the note had gone over. Renji had said he was going to give it to Rukia after school, and then ghost off to soccer practice so she had time to think it over. Izuru thought this was the dumbest idea he had ever heard, apart from every other plan Renji had ever had.

There certainly was a lot of giggling coming from the back of the store. Rangiku was holding court on the couch, Momo and Rukia on either side of her. On the coffee table, half a dozen magazines featuring girls in sparkly dresses were scattered among the usual copies of Dragon and Wizard.

“I can’t decide if I want to go for a one-shoulder gown, or something completely strapless,” Rangiku was sighing. “Rukia, you have good shoulders, what are you thinking?”

Rukia mumbled something about lacking the necessary structural support for a sleeveless gown.

“You’d be surprised! It just needs to fit tightly enough!”

“You should come shopping with us on Saturday, Rukia!” Momo offered brightly. “You really don’t know what’s going to look good until you try it on.”

“Oh…” Rukia stammered. “My brother said he would buy me a dress. He said it’s important that I reflect well on the family.”

“Fortunately, your brother has killer taste,” Rangiku shrugged. “I would let him buy me all the dresses he wanted to.” She smiled her bright, friendly smile. “You could still come shopping, though, get some ideas of what you like! We could take some pictures to show him. I’m sure he takes input.”

Izuru had met Rukia’s brother. The man most certainly did not take input.

“Plus, it’ll just be fun to have you along!” Momo encouraged. “You have a great sense of style, I’d love to have your opinions!”

The portents looked auspicious, but Izuru needed positive confirmation. “Are you planning to go to the prom, Rukia?” he asked, flinging himself down in the ancient, creaky recliner. “I would have thought you were too cool for that.”

Two pink spots appeared on Rukia’s cheeks. “Yeah, I’m going, I guess.”

“You are not going to believe this, Izuru!” Rangiku gasped breathlessly. “But our Renji asked her to go with him!”

“Surely not!” Izuru scoffed, a pleasant feeling of satisfaction filling his chest.

“It’s just as friends!” Rukia protested. “And of course I don’t care about prom, but it means a lot to him, so…” she made a frustrated shrug.

Just.

As.

Friends.

Izuru shot a glare of horrified disbelief at Momo, who shrugged helplessly.

As if on cue, Renji’s mop of bright red hair poked around the edge of the Warhammer display. The couch backed to the front of the store, so Izuru could see him, but the girls couldn’t. Renji pointed emphatically at Rukia, and then stuck out his tongue victoriously, making a “hang loose” sign with his hand.

“I need to talk to you!” Izuru announced loudly, jumping up, grabbing Renji by front of his shirt, and hauling him into the aisle with all the ceramic dragon figurines. “You moron!” he hissed.

“I just did what you said!” Renji defended, holding up his hands.

“No, you didn’t! Did you even give her the note?”

“I did not. I thought about it, and I decided you were right. I talked to her with my actual voice. I told her I really wanted to go to prom with her, and she made a real cute face and then she said yes. Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without your help.”

Izuru squeezed his eyes shut. “But you’re going as friends.”

“Yeah, well, we are friends, and I’m okay with that. You know, it was the right move, anyway. The reason I was late is because her brother cornered me after work and lectured me for half an hour.”

“Byakuya went into the Foot Locker?” Izuru frowned, trying to picture it.

“Of course not. He would never go into a Foot Locker. He waited outside.”

Izuru admittedly hadn’t taken Rukia’s intense, overprotective brother into account, back when they were writing the note, even though he remembered Renji bringing it up. “Well, I’m glad you’re still alive.”

“Yeah, me too. I offered to wax his car, just immediately. That knocked him off his game a little.” Renji made a thoughtful face. “He, uh… was appreciative, actually. I guess Rukia’s been wanting to go to prom and pretending she doesn’t, and he thought I picked up on it and asked her because I’m a good friend.”

Izuru stared at Renji blankly. “What?”

Renji shook his head. “I can’t explain it. Kuchiki brains are weird. Anyway, he said I don’t have to wax his car, but he wants me to come over to dinner so he can pre-screen my table manners and I have to meet their scary grandfather.” Renji scratched his head. “I wonder if the old man has a car I could wax.”

Izuru let out a big sigh. “Well, I’m glad it worked out. Sort of. Even if you wasted a very good love letter that I worked very hard on.”

“You spent ten minutes on it, tops, and it did not go to waste.”

Izuru frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“Don’t you feel like… like it helps to talk that stuff out? To put your feelings into words and write them down and look at them? I mean, I know it helped me, I was just thinking that maybe…”

“Give it up, Abarai,” Izuru mumbled. Whenever anything remotely good happened to Renji, he got really optimistic that all his friends could repeat his successes. When Izuru was in the right mood, it struck him as sort of sweet, but right now, it was just irritating.

Renji stuffed his hands in his pockets and huffed. “Look. Talking to Rukia was… it was easier than I thought. T’be honest, I pretty much expected her to turn me down cold.” He gave a wistful little smile. “We’ll just see how it goes, y’know? Might even be able to work up the nerve to ask her for a slow dance.”

Izuru shook his head. “You’re hopeless, Abarai.”

“Yeah, well, takes one to know one.”

“We are not the same,” Izuru informed him pointedly. “I am a dreamer who pines for that which is out of his reach. You’re just a dumbass who can’t grab at the thing an inch in front of him.”

Renji gave one of his big, open shrugs. “Say what you want about me, but I have grabbed. It’s hard to judge distance when you’re too close to it. I’m just saying that I don’t think your dreamy moon poet is as far off as you think.”

“Why do you always listen to me exactly enough to misunderstand everything I say?” Izuru griped.

“I am a dumbass, you had me there.” He stood up straighter. “But Rukia is not a dumbass and I would like to go say hello to her before she thinks we’re making out back here in the sparkly dragon grotto like Ikkaku and Yumichika.”

“I heard that!” Ikkaku’s voice echoed through the store.

“Matsumoto is trying to convince her to get a strapless dress,” Izuru explained.

“Really? I’m in favor of that,” Renji grinned, his eyebrows raising. “She’s got the shoulders for it.”

“Go,” Izuru sighed, slapping his friend on the back.

As Izuru turned to follow Renji to the back sitting area, he saw Shuuhei hovering in the store’s main aisle. He was wearing a Tool t-shirt over a ratty grey henley with the elbows blown out. His hair looked like he put a bunch of gel in it and then immediately gone to a gymnastics class. There was a ‘69’ sharpied on his cheek. As usually, Izuru couldn’t believe how cool the guy was.

“Uh, hey, Izuru,” Shuuhei said, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

“Hey,” Izuru replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Wondered if you were in today.”

Usually, Shuuhei would reply with some joke about his loud co-worker, Mashiro, but instead, his fingers curled and uncurled around a piece of paper he was holding.

Hmm, Izuru thought absently. Shuuhei must use the same kind of notebook that I do.

Shuuhei’s eyes darted to the side, and then back to Izuru. “Hey, um, someone slipped a note in my locker today, but they didn’t sign it. I don’t, uh, want to be forward or anything, but I think… this might be your handwriting?”

The floor dropped away from Izuru’s feet. He was had been transported to the Elemental Plane of Mortification. His corporeal body had ceased to exist.

Suddenly, behind Shuuhei’s back, Renji and Momo appeared in the doorway to the back room, flashing huge grins and four enthusiastic thumbs up.

Izuru was going to kill them.

[onewfantaesy]

Maledictus AU

Despite Jongin and Taemin quickly becoming best friends, their brothers still torment Taemin relentlessly. It’s the day after the full moon, and he’s exhausted and sore - side effects of having the transformation only once a month - and they start calling him Maledictus again in the hallway between classes.

But having a Gryffindor Uncle - Minho - has its perks, as Taemin’s learned several not-so-approved spells to use on people who are mean to him. So when he’s around the corner, he sends a nasty jinx Chanyeol’s way. The fourth year has proven to be the meanest of Taemin’s brothers, and coincidentally he funnest one to get back at. He’s very reactive, as the yelps from the jinx prove. Taemin chuckles and bolts down the hall to get to class before they can retaliate.

It seems like they’ve grown bored with simply calling him Maledictus, though, and Taemin finds out the hard way. Because the next morning, he can’t find a single one of his potions. He starts to panic, because maybe he just misplaced them. He still had a week-and-half doses of the potion left, he can’t be out already, and Kibum wasn’t scheduled to send anymore until that Saturday. It’s only Wednesday, he can’t go three whole days without his potion, he just can’t.

He ransacks the entire dorm room, turns everything topsy-turvy to try and find his potions, threatens his roommates for answers they don’t have on who took them or who hid them. It gets him nowhere, and he’s running full speed to the Hospital Wing as soon as he realizes that. Maybe the mediwitch has extras. Maybe she can call Kibum and get more.

Except she doesn’t seem to take him seriously, and tells him he must have misplaced the potions.

“No one would steal your potions,” she says, waving a hand. “Check your dorm room again.”

“But they’re not there!” he tries to tell her. “I need to take it now!”

She doesn’t listen. He spends all day skipping class to search every inch of his dorm and the common room, but comes up empty. His friends and his roommates and his House mates are all concerned, all trying to help, but no one can find them.

“What did you do?” Taemin asks in a dangerously low voice, moving to corner Jongin in the hallway. “What did you do to my potions?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Jongin says, his voice going high.

“Bullshit!” Taemin screams. “You took them! You snuck into our dorm and took them!”

“No I didn’t! I swear!”

“I hate you!” Taemin screams in Jongin’s face. “I hate you and I hate you stupid brothers and I hate your stupid family!”

Chanyeol and two of the other brothers arrive then, shoving Taemin onto the floor, calling him Maledictus. Laughing. Taunting him.

“Give them back!” Taemin demands, pushing himself. “Give them back now!”

“What? These?” Chanyeol asks, laughing and holding up an empty potions vial. “Here, take them.”

And he tosses it at Taemin, the glass shattering at his feet. Taemin starts to really panic then, his hands grasping at the front of his robes, his eyes wide and frozen as he stares at the broken glass.

“What did you do?” Jongin asks. When he tries to move to hit Chanyeol, another brother holds I’m back. “What did you do to him!”

“Better run, Maledictus,” Chanyeol says, laughing. “It’s almost sundown.”

Taemin turns then, looking out a window, his whole body turning ice cold when he sees the sun is just about to set.

“And you know what I hear is fun to hunt?” Chanyeol taunts. “Snakes.”

Taemin bolts then, running as fast as he can, anywhere his feet will take him. Chanyeol is laughing obnoxiously, already starting to run after him, and Jongin is screaming for them to stop and to leave Taemin alone.

Taemin screams as his body transforms into a snake, his bones cracking and joints popping, the pain coursing through him a thousand times worse than he’s ever remembered. And Chanyeol’s laugh echoes in the hallway as several students scream at the sight of a giant snake slithering along the castle floors.

Chanyeol and several of the brothers chase Taemin all night, never leaving him alone, throwing hexes and jinxes and slicing spells at him. He couldn’t even go back to the common room, one of the brothers keeping watch in the only corridor that leads to the Hufflepuff dorms. He doesn’t get a moment’s rest the entire night, until the wee hours of the morning, just before sunrise. When he slithers into the only open office he can find.

Of course it’s Sooman’s. And as soon as Taemin enters, a bookshelf moves and he Professor is stepping through from his private quarters.

It’s just as Taemin transforms back, and he’s screaming and shaking and writhing on the floor in front of the man he fears the most. Everything hurts. He’s covered in cuts and burns, some of them magical and some just from the stone of the castle floors, and he can’t catch his breath.

“Stop stop stop,” Taemin begs, trying to push himself away from where the man kneels in front of him. “Please. Please stop.”

“Why were you a snake?” the man growls. “You’re supposed to keep that under control.”

“They took my potions,” Taemin cries, still trying to get away from him.

“Who did? Your roommates?”

Taemin just shakes his head, and he noticeably flinches and starts shaking when Chanyeol’s laugh echoes into the room. He can just barely hear Sooman sigh over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.

“You’re covered in cuts,” Sooman says. “Stay still.”

“No no no!” Taemin screams, moving back against the wall, and he gasps and fumbles for the amulet around his neck. “I wanna go home, I wanna go home. Please, please, I wanna go home.”

“This will help,” Sooman says, and he uses a dropper to put a potion into a large scrape on Taemin’s neck.

But instead of healing it, it only burns. Taemin screams, and he curls up and grabs the amulet with both hands, pleading, “Daddy, Daddy I wanna come home. Daddy, please. Please it hurts.”

Sooman himself is panicking, because this jar is supposed to be a simple healing potion, why isn’t it working, why is it only causing more pain?

Jongin runs in then, still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, looking disheveled and panicked.

“Dad! Dad they’re - Taemin!”

And he runs and slides next to Taemin, falling on his knees, bruising them on the hard floor, and using gentle hands to hold Taemin’s head.

“What is going on?” Sooman demands.

“They took his potions and they’ve been torturing him all night and they put me in a body bind and they hurt my Taemin!” Jongin cries, hugging Taemin close.

And the clusterfuck of a morning only gets worse when a distraught Kibum rushes in followed by a flustered Headmaster.

“What the fuck did you do to my son?” Kibum spits, pulling Taemin close and holding his wand out towards Sooman. But Kibum turns back to Taemin when he starts crying more, when he realizes Taemin is bleeding, and he moves back Taemin’s robes and his shirt to find several pieces of glass stuck in his abdomen.

“It’s alright,” Kibum says quickly, muttering spells to take the glass. “It’s okay, Daddy’s here. Everything’s going to be alright.”

“Why can’t you just kill me?” Taemin asks between desperate sobs. “I don’t wanna be a snake, I don’t.”

A strangled cry leaves Jongin then, and he dives into Sooman’s side as Chanyeol and two of the other brothers finally walk inside. Sooman holds one arm around Jongin and the other up to keep the older boys back, a stern look on his face. The three older boys all step back, looking nervous now at the sight of their father and the Headmaster, but not daring to run away.

“Kill me,” Taemin begs. “Please.”

“Do you remember,” Kibum asks in a thick, shaking voice, “Do you remember when you first asked me that? Do you remember that day?”

“Yes,” Taemin cries.

“Do you remember how I said I would never, ever hurt you?” Kibum asks him softly, leaning down so his face was next to Taemin’s ear. “Because this is not your fault. You are not bad. You are not evil. You are a very good person who has had a lot of bad things happen to them. You were born with a curse, but that does not make you a curse.”

“I want to be normal,” Taemin begs, not opening his eyes, not moving from where Kibum has him held tight to his chest.

“I know,” Kibum whispers. “I know.”

He holds Taemin for a few minutes like that, rocking him back and forth, trying to calm him down. And when Taemin’s cries turn from desperate sobs into shaking gasps, he runs a thumb over Taemin’s cheek.

“I’m going to put you to sleep now,” Kibum says gently.

“No! No,” Taemin shrieks, a shaky hand moving up to grasp at Kibum’s wrist.

“It’s okay,” Kibum says quickly. “It’s daytime now. You’re not going to turn into a snake.”

“Don’t leave,” Taemin begs.

“I’m not leaving,” Kibum whispers. “I’m just going to put you to sleep so I can get you patched up, so you won’t feel anything. And then we’re going home.”

“Wanna go home now,” Taemin says.

“It will be okay,” Kibum says gently. “Everything will be okay. I promise.”

Taemin slowly lets go of Kibum’s wrist, manages to calm down a bit, and then Kibum whispers the spells to put Taemin to sleep. After he uses another couple healing spells, he holds Taemin tight to his chest and turns to glare at sorry excuse of a family still in the room.

The Headmaster ushers him out before he can say anything he might regret, and he takes the floo in the Headmaster’s office to travel home, Taemin still tucked in his arms.

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: you are a mermaid and you save a handsome man from drowning but little do you know it’s not his first rodeo when dealing with mermaids. seonghwa, a former prince, is currently hongjoong’s first mate and boyfriend. hongjoong is the captain, the pirate king of the most savage crew across the seas. and you want nothing to do with them. not because they’re pirates, but because they’re humans…

ship: mermaid!reader x prince/pirate!seonghwa x pirate!hongjoong

genre: little mermaid!au, pirate!au, romance, angst, fantasy

author’s note: why am i writing sm abt yeosang, this is supposed to be a seongjoongyn fic lmao; anygays, yeosang said polyamory rights

warnings: hongjoong suffers. a lot. but will make up for it later, i promise; insecurities; jealousy; blood only mentioned like once; possessiveness

word count: 1.5k (a bit shorter than usual cuz uni is a bitch and i have zero free time but wanted to update)

chapter one ☠️ chapter two ☠️ chapter three ☠️ chapter five  ☠️ chapter six ☠️ chapter seven ☠️ chapter eight  ☠️ chapter nine ☠️ chapter ten ☠️ chapter eleven ☠️ chapter twelve ☠️ chapter thirteen ☠️ spotify playlist

You swam towards the surface together with your sister Soojin. She had finally talked you into meeting up with those pirates once again. You didn’t what to admit it to her, but you were pretty excited. You were curious to find out more about them. Even though they were humans. Or maybe because of that. 

Every braincell in your mermaid body was telling you to swim away from this situation and never look back. But your foolish heart was swimming further, deeper into danger.

“There’s the ship!” Soojin screamed eagerly, pointing in the distance.

“You’re right,” you responded flatly, somewhat awestruck by the way it looked at twilight. The pink sky was painting its sails like magic. As the yellow sun was setting into the sea, you could only think one thing: you had never seen such beauty before in your life. And it scared you that you were already so attached to this new world.

“Come on,” Soojin urged you, swimming way ahead of you.

Your tail had a mind of its own as you followed her, not even bothering to object. You were in too deep. Which was ironic, considering you were swimming across the sea surface, its true depths long forgotten.

“Yeosang!” Soojin sang the boy’s name and started knocking onto the wooden ship. “Come out, you punk! I travelled a long way just to see you.”

Soon enough, the blonde pirate you’d briefly noticed earlier showed up.

“Soojin!” he beamed happily and jumped into the water without thinking twice. “I missed you.”

“Me too, silly,” Soojin stroked his hair sweetly and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. You felt as if you were intruding by witnessing their blossoming relationship, so you looked away from them awkwardly.

“You keeping the ring I gave you safe?” Yeosang asked your sister.

“Of course. You trust me?”

Yeosang nodded.

“Even though I only just met you.”

Soojin smiled and buried her head into his chest. You were looking away but something made you curiously sneak a peak or two at them every once in a while. Yeosang’s attention was suddenly on you.

“Did you come to see Seonghwa?” he inquired.

“N-no,” you quickly responded. “I just came to make sure you delinquents wouldn’t hurt my Soojin or something.”

Yeosang scoffed loudly.

“Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

You groaned in annoyance.

“You want me to call Seonghwa? I’m sure he’d be delighted to talk to you again.”

“If it’s not too much trouble…” you answered ambiguously.

“Be right back,” Yeosang promised and started climbing in an experienced manner back onto the ship.

“Hey, don’t leave me!” Soojin complained.

“Will return in the blink of an eye, love.”

“You better!” Soojin threatened vaguely. “Or else!”

☠️☠️☠️

Seonghwa’s POV

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” I spoke honestly to Y/N.

“You and me both,” she replied coldly.

“You didn’t want to see me again?” I asked her in a sad voice.

“Wasn’t planning on it. Soojin dragged me here.”

“Purely against your will?” I suggested.

“Well…I suppose a small part of me was curious…”

“About?”

“You could have just thanked me and that’s it. End of story. You didn’t have to go out of your way to show me all these delicious fruits and spend all this time around me. So…why did you do it?”

“I suppose I was curious, too.”

“About?” Y/N repeated, mocking my voice.

I rolled my eyes.

“You’ll have to stick around to find out,” I responded cleverly, hoping she would fall for the trick and really choose to stay.

“Does it have to be that difficult?” she wanted to know.

“What’s difficult about it? You’re a mermaid and can swim whenever and wherever you want to. I’m a pirate and our ship can go anywhere at any time. It’s a perfect match, don’t you think?”

Y/N shook her head, apparently disagreeing with me.

“You know why I can’t,” she said, her voice strained with pain.

Like I needed a reminder of the woman I’d loved and lost. But maybe, destiny was giving me another choice. To make things right. If not…why had fate decided to send Y/N my way? Could it be a mere coincidence? I didn’t know but I wanted to fight for her.

“How about this…you don’t have to make any promises to stay. But if you’re ever bored, you can swim around the ship and say my name. I’ll answer to your call.”

“What’s with you?” the mermaid chuckled. “Seonghwa.”

“You remembered,” I whispered fondly, suddenly recalling our conversation on the boat.

“I might be an idiot, but I’m not stupid,” Y/N joked. “So…will your boyfriend scold you for hanging out with me?”

“How did you figure it out?” I asked.

“Oh, please. Last time he was reeking of jealousy.”

“You can smell that shit?”

Y/N laughed.

“What, you thought having a tail was the only perk about being a mermaid?”

“You’re extraordinary,” I panted, suppressing the urge to bring my face closer to hers. This was wrong.

“I so am,” she smirked confidently. “But seriously, we shouldn’t anger him. You said he was the captain, right? Doesn’t that give him…I don’t know, more power over you?”

I shrugged.

“No one holds power over me.”

“Not even your own heart?” Y/N teased and placed her hand on my chest. This was so wrong, I kept telling myself. Hongjoong could see us any minute if he decided to go out of his cabin.

“N-no,” I stammered unconvincingly, as she approached me like a snake, spreading her poison slowly into my blood.

“Liar,” Y/N whispered and I could feel my heart beating faster.

Then, she pulled away as quickly as she’d gotten closer.

“See, that’s why I don’t want anything to do with you humans. Even the slightest word or movement could make you so weak. It’s pathetic, really. Don’t you think?”

“It’s better than being cold. Or not having a heart.”

She was obviously struggling to keep up the charade of not feeling anything. I could see her swallowing on nothing but air as she was trying to figure out what to say or do next. Like it was a game of chess.

“Fish are cold. I’m part-fish, remember?”

“You’re also part-human, remember?” I shot back wittily. “Since you claim to dislike us so much, you might as well reconsider…aren’t you a bit like me?”

“I’m nothing like you,” Y/N spat out, denying her humanity. “The sooner you realize this, the better.”

“Yes, you are. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be terrified of getting hurt.”

“It’s called self-preservation, you idiot!”

“No. It’s called being human.”

She sighed exasperatedly.

“I’m tired of all this arguing. Let’s just stay here in silence. Please?”

I nodded, finding that silence felt somewhat comforting when I was in her presence. The sun had already set and the moon was shining brightly upon us. Despite the celestial body’s beauty, I could only focus on her. Her face seemed serene but the rest of her was tense. I hesitantly placed my hand on her back. She slightly jumped up in surprise but soon enough, relaxed under my touch. I simply looked at her calmly and expected her to do the same. Maybe this was wrong. But I couldn’t give her up.

☠️☠️☠️

Hongjoong’s POV

I followed him outside. Quietly. Making myself invisible. It’s what he would have wanted, no? For me not to witness this. Well, what I wanted was make him believe that I hadn’t. But I heard every word. Felt every touch as if it were a dagger in my back. Saw every hidden glance. Even in the dark. Smelt the sea as the wind blew on and on. Tasted the salt on my tongue and the blood as I was biting down on my cheeks to stop myself from screaming. Maybe she was right. I was reeking of jealousy. But I had every right, didn’t I? He had promised something. And even though he hadn’t exactly left, why did it feel like his heart already belonged to someone else? Why did I feel the betrayal shattering my bones like stones being thrown my way? Why was he looking at her like that? I kept repeating to myself that he hadn’t abandoned me, not really. But why did it feel like he had?

My painful thoughts were interrupted by a light touch on my arm. I swiftly turned around, grabbing the hand that had dared approach me. It was Yeosang. I released my hold on him.

“Hyung…don’t torture yourself,” he spoke softly.

“Leave me alone, Yeosang. I’m not in the mood to talk.”

“He would never leave you. You know that, right?”

“What does it look like to you, hm?” I questioned him angrily, barely managing to keep my voice down so that Seonghwa and Y/N wouldn’t find out I was eavesdropping.

“There are people who take more than one significant other, you know? That doesn’t mean he loves you any less.”

I closed my eyes, because I was afraid he’d see I’d been crying.

“I can’t share him with anyone. It would kill me.”

“But, hyung, can’t you tell he would do anything for you?” Yeosang insisted. “If you told him to let her go, he would. But is that the kind of boyfriend you’d like to be? You could find a solution. One that makes you both happy.”

“Just drop it, Yeosang. I can’t even consider this right now.”

Yeosang nodded and left. I could tell this wasn’t the end of this conversation. It was only the beginning.

To be continued…