#and before the spring tours even began...

[magicmorningmeteora]

The Spring of Departures Has Come

Spring is a season with longtime associations with new beginnings, including those brought about by graduation.

One harsh reality one must live with as a wota is the possibility of your oshi graduating. Be it to pursue a new career path, focus on studies or health, or to retire from entertainment (and hopefully not the mortal plane), there's many a reason for an idol to utter that word.

For Harowota, we will enter summer having seen at least three such idols take part in the ritual.

The spring of departures has come, hasn't it?

So, who's ready for Round 2?!

Note: As you can probably tell, this poll was made before Ichioka Reina's announcement. And Yamazaki Yuhane's.

[ghulehunknown]

Undressing Papa Backstage,

A Drabble - Dom Copia x GN Reader

Warning - adult themes ahead!

NSFW below!

Tags: blowjob, unprotected penetrative sex, dom Copia

Word Count: 1.3K

Just imagine undressing him after a show backstage. He’s sweaty and he’s just told the audience to go fuck themselves, and he has similar plans in mind. You watch as he takes the final bow. His brow is glistening with beads of sweat, and his hair is a little damp. There’s a hunger in his gaze, his bottom lip falling slightly open as the lights go out.

Performing has him especially riled up this evening. He’s already pitching a tent in his painfully tight jeans by the time he turns to go backstage. And he wasn’t kidding about that violent shower. You had always wondered what exactly he meant, and envisioned him painting the walls in his ecstasy and making a mess of himself only to wash it down the drain.

And where was the fun in that, imagining? And what was the fun in doing it solo the whole tour, Copia wondered as well. You got to know him pretty well, in the quick changes in between songs. Small chatter, but mostly silence as you focused on your task at hand. But all the touches, feeling his body as you put his robes on and took them off, carefully smoothing his hair each time… it built something inside of you. And you think it did for him too.

“Excellent job, Papa,” you remark as he runs backstage again for the final time of the night. He’s out of breath and chugs the water bottle you hand him as you start to take his red jacket off one arm at a time.

“Mm-!” he mumbles while drinking. “Grazie, dear.” He’s still trying to catch his breath but slowly it returns to normal. “You eh, catch my line?”

Oh yes, of course you had. Since the start of tour you began keeping a tally of all the different ways he would tell the audience about fucking each other or themselves, and how he intended to do the same…

“Of course, Papa, I think the audience liked it,” you say with a smile as you hang up the red jacket for dry cleaning later on.

“And…what about you?” he says with a small smirk, looking at you as he begins to unbutton his shirt.

You blush. “I…” you begin, stepping forward to help him with his buttons as he fumbles around.

“You…?”

“Please, Papa…you’ve put me in a rather…precarious situation. I - I have a job to do, and I can’t be distracted. Don’t make me choose between what I want to do and what I have to do.” You look up at him, his shirt collar in your grasp. But you don’t sound convincing. Nor do you want to.

“I know tesoro, but you don’t have to worry about any of that. I want you. I’ve wanted you since they assigned you to me.” He’s touching your elbow now, gingerly brushing your arm with his thumb. “All this touching and no fucking, I can’t stand it.”

“Papa, I -” you start to say but before you can get the words out, he shoves you off him while undoing his pants in a hurry but tugs at it hopelessly just like the buttons on his shirt.

He curses in Italian and slumps his shoulders a bit, looking at you pathetically, giving up. “That was supposed to be seductive,” he said, frowning.

You can barely contain a smile. “This is why you need your wardrobe assistant,” you say, unlacing his pants and unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way. Your fingertips brush his sternum, feeling the few coarse hairs sprinkled across his chest.

Your breath catches in your throat. You kneel down to start taking off his pants past his waist before you realize - of course, how could you forget? These jeans don’t leave much to the imagination, and he forgoes undergarments just to get them over his hips.

“Something the matter?” he asks, looking down at you and wondering why you paused.

You shake your head and continue, this time yanking the jeans halfway down his thighs in short tugs. The tight fabric combined with his sweat doesn’t allow much wiggle room.

Finally his erection springs forth, completely hard and in your face. Your hands trail up the back of his thighs, until you’re cupping his supple ass. You give his cheeks a squeeze, eliciting a little chuckle from him. You bring one hand to his front, grabbing his cock in your fist and tilting it upwards towards your mouth.

He sighs and grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back. Then he spits directly onto his shaft, saliva pooling around your hand. You work him up in your grasp, his spit giving you allowance to glide your fist around him smoothly.

You lean forward until your lips touch his flushed tip. You part your lips and kiss it gently before taking him in your mouth and sinking down on him fully, until his tip hits the back of your throat. You can smell his natural body odor mixed with his cologne at his base. He tastes salty from all the built up perspiration.

“Fuuuck,” he groans, clutching onto your hair harder. His eyes are closed as he rocks his body against your mouth, feeling every part of his cock enrobed.

You gag at first, but his thrusts don’t wait for you to catch your breath. He’s using you for his own pleasure, like his own little fuck doll.

Before he finishes, he pulls you off him roughly by the hair. You choke and sputter as he utters a gruff command.

You nod and obey him when he says, “I want you bent over the vanity.”

You quickly clear the scattered mess of things on the surface - his face paints, makeup brushes, tissues, setlists, water bottles - as he comes up behind you and yanks your trousers down your hips. He throws them to the side once your legs are free.

He pushes you flat against the vanity, your head turned to the side and your cheek laying down flat. He kicks your legs apart so they make a wide V shape. You hear him spit again, then again, this time in his hand. He reaches down to your core, massaging his saliva like it’s lube at your entrance.

You both moan in sync as he pushes into you, and you feel the initial stretch. Oh fuck! You had thought of this moment so many times while alone backstage with him, but truthfully never even knew how big his cock was until now. You had an idea, sizing the bulge in his pants. But he usually put his pants on by himself before shows, and took them off himself afterwards on his way to the shower, so you never saw this part of him. You wince as your walls contract around him to accommodate his size.

“Ah - fuuckk, s-so good -” he murmurs, thrusting in and out of you.

You lay there atop the table, feeling him pound into you over and over. You moan every time he brushes up against your little sweet spot deep inside you.

“You like that, mm? My little assistant,” he growls in your ear, and as you look up into the mirror you see him smirking and looking into your eyes. He spanks your ass, leaving a red handprint.

You yelp as he bends your left arm behind your back, keeping a firm grip there to steady himself as he continues drilling into you. Your body bounces on the table as you watch both your faces contort in passion in the mirror. The hairspray bottle and his cologne are dangerously close to falling off the table.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum -” he says breathlessly, pulling out of you quickly. You peer up into the mirror again and see him looking down and just when you wonder - warm, thick liquid splashes all over you, painting your backside as he coaxes out his seed.

You lay there in a daze as he pulls some tissues from the box next to you, cleaning himself off and aimlessly cleaning you off too, though it’s more of a smear.

Then he says, “Undress. Get in the shower. We’re just getting started.”

[hoseoksluna]

SMOKE, i. | myg

pairing: idol!yoongi x smoke!oc (ft. bangtan)

genre: angst

word count: 6.8k

summary: everything that begins also ends.

pinterest board: smoke / taglist: join

warnings: suicide ideation, yoongi has deep feelings that he hasn't felt in a long time, sexual innuendos, yoongi has brief dirty thoughts, alcohol consumption, talks of alcohol, social anxiety and feelings of anxiety in general, jungkook has mint hair, covid and the pandemic, talking to a dead loved one, jealousy, envy, anger, crying, yoongi's bad shoulder.

note: welcome to the brand new yoongi series! i can't believe this baby is alive and ready for you to read. i struggled with this a lot, since it's written in a way i've never tried before. yoongi's pov, first person—like what? i thought this chapter was pretty shitty as i didn't feel comfortable writing in this style, but i pushed through, felt like it was meant to be—which is why i need tons of your validation. i was also kinda sad today, so please send your love. :( fyi, jungkook may be a huge part of the beginning of this story, but this is not steam pt 2. jungkook won't be present as much later on. no polyamory here. *spoiler* he just brought oc to yoongi and then he will lovingly go away, dw. :) enjoy this first chapter, i can't wait for many more! kisses.

side note: happy bday to us! mwah.

It was a bang, what happened in our group. 

A bomb that blew off in Jungkookie’s trembling hands when he shared the news. A decision that wasn’t really collectively discussed, not even privately with Namjoon—but an information that erupted among us as we sat in the lounge room of the venue, refreshing ourselves with snacks and drinks after the tough soundcheck we had. I had a bottle of Hennessy in my hands myself, about to pour myself some liquid courage in order to chase away the bitter ire I had swirling in my veins, but hearing his words made me forget about the nectar right away. 

He was bringing along a female friend for the tour. 

The ire turned sour in my bloodstream. 

He must’ve lost his mind. 

And what’s worse, I was the only one who looked at him as if he were a lunatic. The members squealed and hollered, clapping their hands, shouting different variations of words of, “Jungkookie got a girlfriend!” that made him blush so profusely that he wasn’t able to reciprocate any of our eye contact. 

Especially not mine. 

I was fuming, taking breaths that hurt my lungs. The bottle of liquid courage damn nearly broke, but I didn’t feel a thing. How could I—when amidst the ruckus and the soft smiles of our staff my feelings parted and melted into a crossroad that I began to stand in the middle of. 

One way led to selfishness, the other to the very polar opposite of it. 

Jungkook didn’t deal with the pandemic well. His skin was invariably lined with a certain sensitivity towards forlornness and when the mandate forced upon him a pressure of being abandoned—by us and by his long time flirt that was the driving force behind his creativity, besides Army themselves—he didn’t take it well. Crawled inside himself, even deeper within when our management canceled our Map of the Soul tour and we had to stay bricked up inside our homes for a full year. 

He was crestfallen and despondent, a decaying human. No girlfriend, no Army. No band members to slap his back, cook him food and distract his mind from the loneliness. 

Except for me. 

I was the one who made time for him. Who visited him, despite our management’s strong disliking for it. I went around them and did it without anyone’s knowledge but Jungkook’s. With a mask and health in perfect condition that I took care of more for him than for anyone else. Our relationship blossomed to highs that overgrew the bricked walls of our mandatory, artificial castle. A peach honeysuckle vine that we watched as much as we could while I wrote poems to him in my heart to alleviate his ache. It was spring and one, singular  hummingbird would fly in to listen to my words while inhaling the sweetened perfume of those pale orange flowers or the fragrance of the natural honey I would buy him and pour over the pancakes I would make for him. A comfort food, a symbol of our secret meetings. A butterfly would sit on the small creature’s back, just to look over its wings and be a witness to a mind’s mending, an afternoon’s tea mixed with dark liquor that would always fade to noraebang. 

The key to Jungkook’s heart. 

I don’t know how the little fella found us, but I wish his wings would sense us here. There’s no windows for him to look out of, but the craving in me for it to fly in and save the day, remind Jungkook who’s been here for him this whole time, blossoms in me just like those peach flowers. 

The castle has collapsed a tiny bit, but the honeysuckle remains untouched. 

Or at least I hope so. 

The other, non-selfish way is simple. Our work had been put off for so long and now that we’re able to pick it back up—in a way that isn’t as satisfactory as I’d want it to be, of course, for the only faces we’ll be seeing beyond the stage are the ones of camera lenses, not the ones belonging to our beautiful Army—there’s a distraction, an external person who could never understand the gravity of that pain we all went through. 

This was supposed to be a precious time shared between us. Another mending of some sort—as our job is the chambers of our hearts. 

And now as I look at her, I feel her playing with those strings of my heart like a harp. And I have that terrible feeling that she will open the doors to each chamber and ruin everything we’ve worked so hard for. 

In spite of the fact that she didn’t do anything wrong. It’s a gut feeling that consumes me and I can’t do a thing about it, not even admit that it gives me the tiniest hint of a thrill that I’ve been craving for so long. 

Jungkook wasn’t the only one affected by the loneliness that came with the mandate. I gave my all to him and always walked out of his door empty—with no one to refill me. 

Performing again was supposed to do the job, but it seems as though she’s come in to hijack it.

Announcement, the ruffling of his hair and multitudes of teasing aside, we had an hour and half left until the beginning of our first show in Seoul. Jungkook left us, with cheeks as darkened as poppies in the summer, with a staff member and our bodyguard to pick her up at a designated meeting spot nearby. He hadn’t eaten all day—not before our dismal soundcheck and certainly not during our hair and makeup session. A ribbon of worry curled tightly in my gut that unfurled once he filled his plate with hotdogs after introducing her to us.

No shaking of hands, only Jungkook’s hand pointing at each member while his mouth gave life to their names. And she didn’t nod her head, not even once, as she moved to greet and smile at every face, which caused me to think that she either already knew of us, either due to our popularity or due to Jungkook’s stories—or both. 

But when it was my turn, her smile faltered.

I didn’t see much of her face, for she wore a black mask. And the only part of her features I was able to see spoke to me in a foreign language I was too pissed off to decipher.

Feline eyes. 

Round and wispy, so terribly cat-like that it cut through my heartstrings she played with and then abandoned. She held my gaze so unfathomably deeply and it wasn’t until she whisked her eyes away that I realized she, irrevocably, clutched time in her hands. It had stopped during that brief moment and resumed as if nothing happened. 

It unnerved me. 

As did my strange feelings as I took in the personality of her outer form. 

She wore a long silky dress, as black as her energy and her hair nearly akin to the length of that garment. Its hem brushed against her ankles with every movement she made and her feet were shod in a pair of heels that would puncture my heart if she so much as wished so. Over her shoulder hung a matching, leather purse and I noticed something that bruised, most peculiarly, my flesh. 

The clasp of her chain strap had a chubby Grookey Pokémon caged as a keychain. 

I found it as adorable as absolutely dangerous. Still do as my eyes can’t help but to watch it twirl. 

She’s a dangerous black cat, with her claws tucked in. And the entire night coils in her eyes, dressing her in innocence and a simultaneous seductiveness that make my lungs swell. 

A quintessence of beauty, she is.

After the introduction is over, Jungkook pulls out a chair for her beside him, sitting down and not wasting a second as he stuffs his mouth full with one of the hotdogs. The monkey bounces with her movement and it’s only now that my brain puts two and two together. The monster almost matches the minty tinge of Jungkook’s dyed hair with its plump, green body. 

None of them know that I match him, too. 

A leaf of the same plant swirls in my glass of whiskey. 

And the notion of iciness that it adds to the bitterness of the liquid turns to ash in my mouth as I take a sip. I, myself, sit on the armrest on the couch, alone—but not alone physically. Hobi rests, leisurely, next to me and she’s stolen glances at him more times than I like. Looked at him while completely avoiding the ring of protectiveness I’ve conjured around myself. 

She does good, but it spreads fire to the strangeness of my feelings that I can’t name. 

Is she throwing a rope around another one of the boys? Her claws itching to rise? 

Who’s next? 

I sigh as she laughs, softly, at something Namjoon says and it deepens my ire. Namjoon should’ve made order as the leader of our group. Should’ve said no to Jungkook at the unfolding of his news and keep the number of our group to seven. Especially when our time together is this precious. 

Not chatting her up and coaxing that wonderful sound out of her.  

“Can we get you anything to drink?” Namjoon asks, waving his hand in the direction of the alcohol station out far in the left corner of the lounge room. A mint plant mocks me as my eyes flick to it while I take another sip. The reason why it’s there in the first place is because Jimin likes his mojitos. 

He sips on it like it’s a Capri-Sun as I swallow the dark liquid after swirling it in my mouth for a moment, the bitterness doing nothing to stifle my ire. 

“No,” she says, feebly, brushing her fingers down the length of her ebony hair before tossing it over her shoulder, giving me a perfect look of one singular strand that has been dyed in the same pale green color that is suffused all though Jungkook’s hair. The shade, but darker, more sinister, imbues my blood with envy. It’s not that soft color, redolent of spring meadows, by any chance. It’s an ancient, vague memory of a forest once in full bloom that is now withering and dying at dusk. How long has he been seeing her that they reached this base? “I don’t drink hard liquor, but thank you.” 

Namjoon licks his lips, spreading his arms over the two empty chairs beside him. “Ah,” he laments, smiling at her, gently. “You don’t drink at all?” 

Jungkook lifts his head from his plate, laughing through his nose as he chews his food, his mouth forming into that bunny smile of his. He knows something I don’t and my green blood boils. 

The cat girl grins, her head twisted in Jungkook’s direction when she laughs, the skin under her chin rounding out, and my chest tightens in endearment at the sight of it. 

The cutest fucking double chin I ever have the eyes to see. 

Fuck. 

“Oh, she drinks,” Jungkook says, his words muffled due to his full cheeks, the food inside showing as he continues to be all smiles.

The cat girl pinches his arm, but owing to the thick fluffiness of his jumper, she doesn't reach skin, and therefore doesn't inflict the pain she intended. Jungkook pretends to moan in pain, anyway. My chest tightens again—this time for a beat longer. 

An oddity flies through my vision, slicing through my envy. 

Her claws sinking into my bare skin as I let her playfulness out—

I shake that picture out of my head as quickly as it arrives, running my fingers through my strands that had fallen in front of my eyes. The girl helps my effort by speaking, distracting me from the faint rush of lust that begins to course down my body. 

I can’t get hard. 

“Yeah, I only drink wine,” she reveals, coyness entwining around her tone, and she kneads her hands, struggling with her straight posture. 

Another distraction, one that softens, most peculiarly, my lust. 

If I were born with deaf ears, I would’ve known she was fighting through her shyness by one glance at her body language and I don’t blame her. 

She doesn’t have only seven pairs of eyes watching her. She’s the apple of fifteen more if I include our staff, sound engineers and our management. 

If I weren’t the person I was and if this wasn’t my job, I would have run the first chance I got. A certain admiration envelops my heart the more I study her toy with her fingers, soothingly, because of a reason that aches to admit. 

A reason far from plain. 

She’s the same as me. Uncomfortable by and disliking any public event with people involved, especially if you’re put in a position to talk. 

A bond forms and I can’t stop it. I can’t rip it apart even as I willfully try in my headspace to cut off that red string tied around my heart, leading to hers. I can’t because she eventually slouches, giving up, her spine protruding towards me through the open back of her dress, for she’s turned her body towards Namjoon, who sits at the head of the table, but I figure she did it in order to be closer to Jungkook to gain some comfort from him. The skin of her back is refulgent and tanned, scattered with little blemishes that connect, like constellations, to a night sky full of birthmarks, and that only add to her beauty.

Her whole back is filled with them, stirring my wonder. And, unknowingly, she let me see by sweeping her hair to one side. I wonder if Jungkook has seen them and appreciates them as much as I do—

Jungkook burps, obscenely loudly, setting down Hobi’s unfinished can of Sprite that he left on the table. I’m sure Hobi’s regretting making that mistake, but when I look at him, he’s smiling so widely that I can see his gums and I’m so astounded by that view that I’m thrown off my balance. 

Even more so, when I check the reactions of the other members and begin to feel shame descending down my own spine like cold sweat. Jimin has hearts thumping in his eyes, raising his hand in the girl cat’s direction, connecting with her as he says he loves a good bubbly. Taehyung, sitting on the direct opposite side of Jungkook by the table with his arms crossed and his face flushed intones that tonight after the show he will break his sobriety streak. Jin joins the table and flicks Taehyung’s forehead, tells him he doesn’t have to break anything while taking a huge bite of his banana. And Namjoon… he laughs, hands intertwined upon the back of his head. 

The whole table laughs, in fact.

Hobi does beside me, too.

I’m the only one who doesn’t, steeped in my uncertainty as I am. 

They all bask in comfort and gaiety. There’s no awkwardness, no unspoken words or silence that hangs heavily in the air. There’s no need for our hummingbird; no need to change directions, play pretend or act accordingly to the new situation because there’s absolutely nothing new about the atmosphere I find myself to be in. Everything is as if it were just the seven of us. 

Making jokes, lighthearted energy, connections lengthening and digging deep… 

I haven’t seen that, been a part of that in so long. 

I was wrong—and the shame, stemming from my wrong impression and unwarranted fear, washes out the envy from my blood. It stands, arm to arm, with my life-long emptiness and I bow my head down, licking my lips.

I wish to exit myself out of this room. 

I wish my heart wasn’t so sensitive. 

I wish— 

“It’s her birthday today and I bought so many bottles of champagne and wine,” Jungkook says, running his tongue over his teeth, and my head lifts; my heart enlarges before it shrinks, painfully, magnifying my shame until it grazes the flesh like a shard. It’s her birthday? “I’ll need your help, guys. We’re not celebrating here tonight. After the show, we’re going to my place.” 

It’s not peach honeysuckle that I’m thinking of. Not pancakes. Not our hummingbird and butterfly as the boys cheer all over again, wishing her happy birthday. 

It’s her that I’m thinking of. 

And how much I messed up. 

He brought her here to make her birthday special—to be with her on the day that carries her name, not to replace me.

It explains why she’s so magnificently dressed up; why she’s putting her feet through so much pain in those heels of hers. 

Just for one night. And I’ve managed to ruin it so majestically with my energy. No wonder she won’t look at me; no wonder her eyes won’t even sweep past me en route to Hobi’s chocolate fountain that his eyes emanate. 

Mine are nothing but death. I don’t blame the decline of her smile as her pools met it. A kitty cat that looked at the face of a skull. It symbolized the end of time and now I perceive that it epitomizes the end of me. 

The longer she’s present, the more I loosen the consuming negativity that I’ve lived for so long in compliance with—because now I’m soft. 

I’m gutted I made her feel awful to be here with my dark energy. 

“Jungkook, you should’ve told us that was the reason why you brought her along. We would have welcomed you with a happy birthday song,” Namjoon says, his palm lifted towards Jungkook and her while his other hand reminds behind his head. 

I can’t see her smile. Not even a hint of it in her eyes, for this time around she doesn’t turn around to steal a glance at Hobi. And I wish she would, with a strength that I’m in awe that I’m even possessing, because I find myself yearning to look at her face, amidst my softness. 

I misjudged her so terribly that the yearning doubles as she presses her hands against her cheeks amidst the overbearing attention. Becomes a need—a need to fix what I so unfairly have broken. 

And jealousy thunderstrikes in my system when Jungkook bumps his shoulder into hers, gently, his head tipped low, fixed in her direction as she struggles, once again, in her shyness. Straightens her spine just in time for Jungkook to curl a finger around her ear and take off her black mask. 

I’m so jealous everyone else gets to see her face fully that indignation supersedes my past ire and my softness and I’m quickly up on my feet, ready to walk out to breathe in some fresh air but something else steps into my plan. 

And it’s not her. 

It could never be her. 

Staffs members circle around us, guiding us out of the room to wire us up. But I stall my time, purposefully staying behind so I can look at her. I pretend to exercise my pain from my shoulder surgery by rolling it and making a face. Jungkook whispers something to her, her face pointed upwards as he stands before her while she remains sitting and I’m so bothered by it that it calls out the pain, incites it to come haunt me again. 

Everyone else had something to say to her—and yet I still haven’t, owing to my foolish mistake. Self-hatred fastens to my anger and I can’t breathe, my lack of knowing what to say to her when the time comes worsening my feelings. 

The boys leave the room and it’s just me and her. The staff member knows not to push me, but the pressure in her eyes is the driving force that takes my legs to the kitty girl. 

She sits so awfully forlornly in her chair, reminds me so much of Jungkook, her spine back to slouching, that marvelous pillar protruding again and my lungs do that thing they seem to automatically do whenever I see that part of her. 

She hears my footfalls as I approach her, but she doesn’t turn around. I ignore the way it makes me feel, the heaviness that comes with it, too. She, in most probability, thinks I’m walking out of this room without saying a word to her, but I’m not capable of that. 

Not anymore. 

I call out her name and, in surprise, she lifts her spine. Turns around, at last, the sleek fabric of the dress adding swiftness to the movement and I see her face. Her full mouth that compliments, most perfectly, her big feline eyes. And I think about how much her dark, sensual energy doesn’t mirror her personality, her coyness that hides inside until someone speaks to her. Her chin is so small that my fist would still be empty if I held it in the way my body asks for, but the look she gives me diminishes the lust that slowly begins to crawl again within me. 

It’s one that bears a different kind of shyness. It’s fear-induced respect and the hatred towards myself thickens. 

I don’t want her to feel this way, but I molded it in her. 

It’s my fault. 

It’s why I think twice before I tell my fingers no, for they ache to drum against the top edge of her chair in effort to linger in her proximity. I won’t encourage her discomfort when I yearn to wipe it clean. But when she inhales my prolonged silence and raises her thin brows in waiting, the tiniest sliver of a smile quivering on her lips, she doesn’t know it—but she somehow gives me the words I was lacking. 

“Did Jungkook tell you where to go?” I ask, softly, fearing her knees will turn away from me, her body language divulging to me the depth of her uneasiness around me. But she remains put, the pillows of her lips balancing at last as they stretch out in a small grin that I don’t deserve. 

Her slender nose crinkles. 

My heart forgets to beat.

“No, he told me to wait here and that Min-ji will take me to a room where I can watch you, guys, perform on the TV,” she says, her grin making it difficult for her to get the words out and she blushes. There must be some other, silent language shared between our bodies because I discover myself smiling, too, even though there’s nothing from her sentence that can possibly be the cause of it. 

The energy shifts, devastatingly, and heat clings to my skin, dispersing relief down my nerve endings. 

All while buzzing tingles chase it, hastily, grabbing it by the back of its shirt and consuming it. 

It’s strange, so terribly strange to be consumed by nervousness when I’ve been used to nothingness and emptiness for so long. 

And her eyes seem to grow bigger, despite the irrepressible dynamism of her fear. Is she gaining thrill out of it—to be staring at the face of breaking death like the small kitten she is and knowing it’s her power that influences me? 

Those eyes. If my ears weren’t bombarded by Hobi’s sound effects wafting down the hall and into the lounge room, mingling with the rise and fall of Jungkook’s voice as he warms it up, I swear I can hear the song of swallows in them. She’s a manifestation of a summer evening in her fear and nervousness, when those birds go mad in the tender blues and pinks of the sky—and I don’t know why I like it so much. Why I want to seize it in my hand and squeeze it. 

And she’s about to be all alone here with it while I go join the rest of my brothers. 

It’s something that doesn’t feel right. 

The staff member taps me on my back. Time is against me—why doesn’t she control it? I swivel behind me to catch her nodding her chin in the direction of the hall and I sigh, quietly. 

“Wait with her until Min-ji comes to get her, so she’s not alone here,” I tell her, then look down at the kitty girl again. 

Her raised brows create wrinkles on her forehead and once she sees that I’ve noticed, she relaxes, wetting her lips. Doesn't want me to see the surprise that comes from what she created in me. 

How cute. 

“Enjoy the show,” I murmur, moving my feet towards the exit. I gaze back at her, catch her lungs shuddering, and the words slip off my tongue before I scramble the courage to stop them. “And happy birthday.” 

Her blush reaches her neck and it’s all my vision consists of—even when I’m performing. 

Our interaction was too short. Too, too short. And my anger took on a new face. 

Hers. 

Every word I rapped as I stared into the camera, I felt it dissolving in me and transforming into a yearning so great that my verses gained new meaning. A yearning to see her again, talk to her, pinch that fear in my fingers and fling it away, make space for something in her that had the vigor to surprise me and make me soft again. And in my concentration, I didn’t have the fight in me to put a stop to it. I was doing my duty for the happiness of our Army and while I thought about her, it seemed right. Those two things went along and it spurred a pleasant feeling in me that was warmer than the adrenaline sticking to my inflamed body from all the performing. 

It didn’t hit me that she was watching me the whole time until my eyes regarded her unperturbed, flaccid posture in that white plastic chair, wading in my thoughts as I was. Her grin and the flecks of light in her eyes illuminate the room with orange, blazing fire. She’s barefoot, her heels kicked to the side, crooked, elegiac, yet still sensuous. Our show is being rerun on the TV and she’s watching it, transfixed, not realizing me and Jungkook were the first to come to her out of the group. 

A mental connection clicks in my brain at the sight of it. The peach blossoms of the honeysuckle, Jungkook and the genuine love I carry for him. It is that orange color—it’s a home that keeps it safe, the atmosphere that she exudes through her evident elation and I don’t really understand why I feel this way. 

I haven’t even known her for a day. 

And it’s forced to collapse when her pools don’t find mine, but Jungkook’s once we walk in, joining her. She holds up her hand in the air, curling down her middle and ring fingers in while the rest of her digits remain erect, small and slim as they are. Her nose crunches up in the way it did when our bodies spoke in that secret language. And when she laughs and the corners of her eyes crinkle, I realize she’s mimicking his gesture that he so often does on stage while showing off his Army tattoo. 

The finger-fucking gesture. 

Her blush beams on her face, even more so when she does a stroking movement with her curled fingers, and I can’t help but wonder, briefly, if that’s how she does it to herself when she’s all alone and the night sinks inside her skin to get a refill of her juices, only to smear it across the sky.

It’s what I need to focus on, so I don’t explode in anger that she ignores me. 

Jungkook cackles, sticking out his tongue and doing the gesture. I hide my face in my towel, getting rid of the sweat coating me—but it pours out of my pores again when I hear her giggle. 

And I need to leave, my imagination no longer strong enough to withstand the jealousy that poisons my blood all over again. 

I fling the towel out and away from me, not caring where it lands. 

I don’t meet any eyes as I walk out, keeping my sight fixed on the gray floor, streaked with black lines from the hundreds of wheels of carts that have drove down the hall and from all the sneakers that have walked past. I follow them and I don’t know where they take me until I’m suddenly face to face with the gaping night. 

And it’s not her. 

It’s my wound. 

No stars for a naked pupil to see. Merely an abounding canvas of blackness that stares back at me and questions me, questions my feelings when it knows full well how hard I’ve wept, many times, in its airy embrace. 

I sit against the wall, needing something solid to support me, the spaciousness of the roof enveloping me, but not tightly enough. There, but never close enough—always a safe distance apart, as if afraid of me. 

Everyone is so always fucking afraid of me. 

And when they lean in and graze my heart, they get repulsed by me. 

It’s an ouroboros that my life, like my legs, follows. Like a dog chasing its own tail—and it’s such a perfect comparison because I’ve always been alone, save for my brothers. Distracted for a while, then alone again. 

I’m weary of it, despite the fact my body tends to wait for the thrill of the attention, longs for it, even when I dislike it. I’m an oxymoron that won’t cease and I have to live with it. 

And I can’t exit out of it because I have millions of lives that depend on me, plus six more. 

I sigh and I think sucking on a cigarette, numbly, while I crawl on my knees through the forest of my thoughts and feelings would be a thing of perfection. But I can’t afford that. Not when we’re working again. Not when our boss lurks at every corner, has eyes everywhere. Jungkook has had his last hotdog for a while and I… 

I swathed my broken strings around someone he brought into my life. 

Through a little hole my brothers let me see by forcing her to sit through a conversation that was a pain for her. A moonlight stripe of her personality, encased by her social anxiety and shyness. One that has awakened my body to emotions it hasn’t felt the touch of in a long time. 

Why am I not fighting it? 

Why am I not coercing my soul into submission, into that abyss of emptiness and hostility? 

Why am I letting myself feel? 

She’s just a girl that he’s seeing. Many stories like these have been written before and we’ve read the lines, recognized words that limned us, only for the love interest to disappear into thin air after some time like she never existed. And she’d just be another character in his love chronicles, if her persona hadn’t spoken to me so much. 

If her body hadn’t spoken to me in a language no one knows—not even me. 

I can’t begin my sentences about her with ‘she’s just a girl’, because she isn’t. 

And I don’t understand how that’s come to be. 

It happened so quickly that I fear I wasn’t present enough. 

My wound tilts its head as my world does the same thing—slants on its axis. Coos at me, seeing me, seeing through me. Reminds me of what happened the last time I felt. 

The passing of my girlfriend gave me the gift of a gun to my hand—gave me the face of death that I’ve been carrying ever since because it nearly made my dream of time ending come true. And the kitty girl… standstill hangs off her fingers like a pearl necklace that’s too long. And I find myself wanting to wear it. Because it’s her decision, her consciousness, her will. 

Not mine. 

And it will bring me closer to my Sun-mi.

My wound begins to cry at the memory of her, raindrops pitter-pattering on the tin ridges of the rooftop and I cherish that she’s remembered and honored by such vastness, by such picturesqueness that I’ve always considered the night to be. And when the wind brushes along my fidgeting hands, I almost feel her touch all over again. 

Feel. 

I feel. 

And in my heart, I tell her. I sail to her, attaching myself to her again. Tell my Sun-mi that I am capable of feeling and that I don’t know how it came together in me. And I ask her, in utmost respect, to guide me on this unknown path. 

Because I am alone without her. Adrift, without rhyme and reason. No wits to me, no rationality, no clear perception of right and wrong. 

There’s only grayness to me. 

Maybe that’s why I, unknowingly, dyed my hair this color before the start of the tour. 

And it dawns on me, now that one chapter has closed in my life, that the passing of my Sun-mi a year and a half ago is the reason why I’ve clung to Jungkook so rigidly. Because I couldn’t spend my time on her, I spent it on Jungkook. Because I had all this love for her and I couldn’t give it to her, so I gave it to Jungkook. 

And the kitty girl has put a stop to it. 

Sun-mi graces me with the tepid, yet fuzzy impression that it’s good—that it was meant to happen. And I believe her. 

And with my belief, the rain thickens. 

A thunder rolls forward from a far-away corner of the canvas of the sky that I can’t see. And I dwell in the pool of the fountain of the love I still have for her and forever will continue to have. Kneel in it. Search for her. 

I imagine her. The button of her nose, the curl of her top lip whenever we ridiculed aegyo by doing it together and doing a good fucking job while at it. I imagine her small fist at her round cheek, but she connects my memories to the kitty girl. 

And she consumes me, wholly.

Sun-mi makes me imagine her doing a cat-like aegyo and as the corner of my mouth lifts, a particular fear devours my gut. 

A fear of closeness. 

A fear of doing something with her that I did with Sun-mi, even when she okays it in my spirit. 

A fear of reliving something so painful again. 

The rain inches towards me and I scurry to my feet, my hand trembling as I open the door to the staircase. And when I shut out the sound of hard rainfall and prevent the traumatic memories of my accident from slinking into my mind, it’s the only strength I have left. 

And I crumble. 

I mirror the rain I abhor so much. 

I sit on the top of the staircase and I sear my hands with my acid-suffused tears. Sob so devastatingly that I don’t recognize myself, drenching the denim fabric over my knees. And when I pull on my hair, numbness is all that I detect within me. 

Good. 

No feelings; only emptiness. 

I steel myself by taking a few deep breaths, letting the oxygen settle that deep in me. And I unattach myself from my Sun-mi, promise her I will get back to her soon. Go back to who I previously was before I scraped the skin of my knees raw on the hardened soil of my emotions and thoughts. 

Alone death. 

But Sun-mi doesn’t sail away back to heaven. Doesn’t let me go. She stomps her foot on the wet grass of my heart and I understand why. I asked her to guide me and what I didn’t know was that she would break the laws of heaven in order to do that. She wouldn’t whisper words of wisdom into the chambers of my heart. She would take my hand and show me wisdom, pointing me to the right decision. 

That is my Sun-mi. 

I let her because I need her. I bow to her and I would stoop to my stomach on this dirty, metal staircase floor to divulge my respect and gratitude to her if I didn’t hear a voice echoing up towards me. 

A familiar male voice calling out to me. 

Sun-mi pulls me to it and tingles vibrate down my legs as I fly through the stairs, skipping the bottom ones in order to get me faster to my brother. Sun-mi pumps blood into my heart, refreshing the grass she lays upon, and lightness descends upon my shoulders. 

Her work of art. 

Heaving, I meet Jungkook in the doorframe, glancing up at me, disappointment lidding his eyes. But I don’t fear, not when Sun-mi is with me. He opens the door wider for me to step through, but I remain fixed on my spot, panting, ringing piercing through my hearing sense. 

Too much adrenaline at once in a season of drought. My body is unable to catch up to the new acclimatization. 

“What’s going on?” I ask, my throat raw from my crying and I clear it, so there’s no evidence of my sensitivity. Sun-mi caresses the wall of my heart to soothe me and tears burn at the back of my eyes—from the simple fact that I can feel her. 

I’ve felt her only once before. A week after she died, I prayed to her, loudly, until I lost my voice. Begged her to come back to me. 

And she did. 

And it felt nice until it didn’t—so I made it my habit to attach and unattach myself because of my fragility. It is only a matter of time before the logic of your mind distinguishes a real person from a ghost. And the parting of that vulnerable mist, in the middle of your agony, isn’t for the faint-hearted. 

But Sun-mi, at this very moment, feels more real than she ever has. As if she truly was hidden in the rooms of my heart like a little doll, like a little angel that has the task from above to guide me. 

And because I need it, I’ll let more time pass through this transcendental connection. 

Jungkook flattens his lips, tightly, the tip of his tongue poking out to play with the thin metal pierced through his bottom lip. He’s changed back into the clothes he came in, minus the fluffy jacket. A black T-shirt, black pants and sneakers. It makes the green of his hair stand out—just like the wisp of the same color on that singular strand of the girl kitty’s hair. 

They have a tendency to match and shame boils in me, that Sun-mi is a witness to the jealousy I feel. I haven’t told her and I don’t know if I want to. In my momentary cowardice, I hope that she can sense it and validate it. 

But I gain nothing from her. 

Silence. 

One that Jungkook breaks. 

“Staff said that we have to wait until the storm passes.” 

My stomach sinks, the memory of the rainfall faint in my ears. “Good.” 

Jungkook pauses before he voices out the question that I can visibly see rising in him. Nibbles his bottom lip, the metal tilting to the side like my world. “Where did you go?” 

My breath shivers as I inhale, tasting my half-false words before I speak them. “I felt hot and I needed some fresh air.” 

I felt jealous that you made dirty innuendos with your friend, I don’t say. It led me to seek my dead girlfriend because I feel inclined to fraternize with that aforementioned friend. 

Jungkook frowns. “You went out in the rain?” 

I pass through the gap between his body and the doorframe, not able to stand the position I’ve been put in, anxiety prickling my fingertips. Jungkook lets the door shut behind him with a loud thud, following closely behind me until he falls in step beside me. 

“It felt refreshing until it didn’t,” I decide to mutter. Typical words of mine—I can’t stand them either. 

Sun-mi is still silent.

Maybe I should unattach myself, protect myself from further pain. It was a moment of weakness, anyways—

Jungkook rubs my shoulder, gently, the fixed one, barely touching me, but the gesture is there. And I grasp why I love him so much. 

His gentleness is everything to me. 

“The rain will stop,” he says and I take those words to heart, giving them the meaning that they are the wisdom I needed to hear, the wisdom I sought from my quiet Sun-mi. 

The rain will stop. 

The sensitivity will stop, too. 

And time will stop soon, one day. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, @hobiberrystuff.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[aheathen-conceivably]

Somewhere on the other side of downtown Strangerville the town’s shopfronts pettered off into the desert, and an old road led through stone buildings falling to the sands of time. Like everything else in this town, Jo figured they had been toppled by the wind and the air; but the people who lived there knew better.

It was just as far from the farmhouse as Jo was willing to walk in heels, although not much further from the bar than her own house was. The fact that she could now call it her house added some spring to her step, even if she had no plans for it to remain that way forever. But for now, it was at least enough to anchor her to her promise to Gio, and the knowledge that she would be leaving it in less than 24 hours made every sight and sound more appealing than ever before, especially since she was there to pick up her ticket out.

Not long after Jo had agreed to her father’s offer, Val had approached her with a smile like she held a secret or had somehow already outwitted Jo in a game she hadn’t even realized they had begun to play.

From the depths of one of her pockets she had fished out the keys to a 1932 Ford Roadster, laughing at Jo’s confused face. Almost as quickly as she had produced them, Val had tucked the keys back into her pocket where they most likely rarely saw the light of day, then explained that the car was Jo’s if she needed it for the tour. All of Jo’s subsequent questions were met with simple shrugs or smiles, so when she approached the house the day before they were set to leave she was still surprised to see Val actually leaning astride the car she had promised.

Before either of them could say a word Jo’s eyes began to wander the scene in front of her. None of it was anything like she had expected. The car was sleek but sturdy, modern and flashy, and utterly at odds with the woman using it like a simple fence post in the desert. Behind it was a small white house with bright shutters and a daring red door, juxtaposed against dilapidated wooden shacks flanking either side of it. Jo didn’t quite know where to look or what to take from the whole scene, so her eyes lingered on the rocking chair on the front porch and wondered if Val ever sat there near sunset.

Val caught her curious gaze and crossed her arms, “What? Were you expecting me to live in a teepee like the guidebooks told you I would?”

A flush crept up Jo’s face as her eyes darted back to the woman she was set to meet. “Val! That’s…that’s not it at all. It’s just so colorful, so new…” So unlike anything I imagined from you. From the house I thought about you going back home to night after night while I tried not to think about where you slept and undressed on my own walks home. Only now I’m here and you’re here and does the inside look like this too? Does your bedroom look just as warm and modern and…

Valcita’s laugh broke the tension settling over the air with every unspoken thought racing across Jo’s mind. “Jesus Christ, Jo, relax. I’m kidding! Come here, would you?”

She leaned off the trunk, gesturing for Jo to walk nearer as she began to explain the mechanisms and workings of the interior. Jo ran her hand along the swooping edge of the car, open to the sky above so that you could drive with your hair blowing in the wind. Already she could hear it deafening her ears, throwing off the protective cover of the truck’s thin metal roof where she had learned to navigate the winding curves at breakneck speeds and made a promise that was getting harder and harder to remember.

As Val kept talking, explaining which buttons to press and gears to shift, Jo couldn’t help but look at her standing between the glittering black paint and small porch. Her ever-present turquoise necklace caught the light of the sun and reflected the color of the shutters. It was usually her only adornment, but now it seemed like just a rock in the desert alongside this treasure she had never expected to find at the edge of the dust bowl.

Val was mid sentence, pointing to the levers for the windows and the locks when Jo’s question finally slipped from her lips. “Why do you have it anyway? The car, I mean. Do you leave? The bar is so close, and I’ve never seen it outside…”

Immediately Val’s arms went back across her body, although Jo was beginning to realize it wasn’t a stance of defensiveness for her the way she had originally thought. It was always paired with some sort of smile that told her it was usually amusement. Or even more likely, defiance. She shrugged her shoulders and confirmed it was the latter. “It was new. Suppose I didn’t need much more of a reason than that, did I?”

The keys now firmly in her own pocket and some modicum of knowledge on how to work the thing thanks to Gio, Jo followed Val around to the driver’s side door. She waited purposefully for Val to lift her hand to the door and pull it open before placing her own neatly beside hers.

As she went to step inside she lifted her right hand to the door, forgetting to move her other one away from Val’s as she looked at the interior of the car laid out before her like a new world. It was nothing like the truck she had learned to drive in, the same one she had dreams of stealing in the night and driving off into the desert with. Only she could already tell that this one was even faster, fast enough to take her all the way to California, or maybe even back to New Orleans. By the time anyone realized, she would be too far gone for them to ever find her again.

Her breath caught in her throat as she composed herself to look back at Val. “I’ll be back at the bar before you know it. It’s only a few weeks after all.”

Val pulled her hand away from Jo’s, as though to tell her she had seen exactly what she had been thinking and had no intentions of holding her back. “No you won’t. I’ve seen your brother play, and I saw how you handled him with my father. They’ll be another tour, and another, until you’re out in California with the rest of the women that look like you.”

Suddenly Jo felt her feet lock in place, and she hesitated to get into the car that she had considered running away in seconds before. “What’s - what’s that supposed to mean?”

As though she could sense the shift in Jo’s posture, Val leaned her weight onto the door. “I said it the day you walked into my bar, ain’t nothing about you that belongs in this town. Not sure how you got out here anyway. But here,” she said, nodding at the steering wheel and moving to shut the door behind Jo as soon as she stepped inside, “There’s your ticket out. Just try and return it to me in one piece, will you?”

[seospicybin]

ON TOUR.

FINAL PART: ENCORE.

Hyunjin x reader x Felix. (s,f,a)

Chapters: I. SOUNDCHECK / II. OPENING ACT / III. UNPLUGGED / IV. HIDDEN TRACK

Synopsis: Your best friend, Felix, is in a rock band and he takes you to join him on tour as the band’s photographer. On the road, you learn how to deal with his bandmate, Hyunjin, who’s not very welcoming of you. (15,4k words)

Author's note: So sorry for the delay and thank you for liking On Tour! It's been fun you guys, see you on next tour :)

Click here for ON TOUR playlist.

Content warning: A tad bit of angst?

It was a pleasant Sunday afternoon when Felix visited Hyunjin's apartment.

The band only started writing music together, for a few months to be exact. That day's rehearsal was canceled because Han couldn't come, he was sick with a cold even though it was spring, and the weather had been nothing but warm.

Felix spent so much time looking around his place, getting to know his personality through the things he has in his apartment, the pile of books on the coffee table, his record collections, the photos stuck to the door of the fridge, the notebook he kept close to him everywhere he goes that he saw was sitting on the bedside table.

No matter how much he wanted to know what Hyunjin wrote in it, Felix resisted the urge to take a look at it, at least not without Hyunjin's permission.

Hyunjin made him a cup of coffee with a lot of sugar for him, knowing that he is not a fan of the bitter taste of coffee.

Then Hyunjin sat on the single sofa across from him, playing with his guitar and plugging it into the amp, setting the volume low.

"My neighbor has a toddler," Hyunjin shortly explained.

Felix only responded with a nod and took a sip of coffee that still tasted a bit bitter for him but he drank it anyway.

When Hyunjin began playing his guitar, Felix leaned back on the couch and listened to the combination of chords that makes such melodic tunes filling the space.

It was always a mesmerizing thing to see Hyunjin plays guitar, Felix intently listened to the strings buzzing as the metal vibrates underneath his fingers.

Felix knew that he admires Hyunjin, that was what he could easily conclude from what he felt inside him as he sat there across from him.

As softly gust of spring breeze came slipping through the crack of the window that Hyunjin left open, he recognized something else deep down his chest and that amplifies the longer Felix watched Hyunjin plays guitar.

It was when Felix accidentally fell asleep on his couch he knew what it is. He felt comfortable and safe.

When Hyunjin brought him a blanket, Felix pulled it to cover up his face and there, he felt it.

Felix loves Hyunjin.

He would say it but saying it out loud is hard, so hard that he decided not to say anything at all.

Felix thought that once he left his place, the feeling would stay there, not following him, haunting him to this day.

But saying it out loud? No.

Words are futile devices.

-

The after-party is canceled.

Everyone stays in their room until the night ends and it's time to go back home. Felix doesn't mean to make things uncomfortable for everyone, especially those who have no involvement whatsoever in it.

Felix comes to your room, knocking on the door when he's still not sure what to say and do. He even doubts you'll open the door for him.

"I'm sorry," Lou says the first thing he opens the door for him.

He licks his lips before continues speaking, "She left last night."

What makes him think that you would stay after what happened? He feels something stirring inside and making a way out of him.

"But you don't have to worry. I drove her to the airport myself," Lou assures him knowing that Felix might have worried about him.

Felix looks down and turns away, saying nothing else but learn that you left him again, this time, you didn't even say goodbye to him.

Isn't this punishment enough for him?

Hyunjin avoids looking him in the eyes as he enters the plane and sits at the far back, away from him.

Felix is once again surrounded by silence and it makes him lonely, it makes him hear the sound of his heart breaking into a million pieces.

Felix not only has lost his chance at love but also his friendship. He loses both his love and happiness.

-

A WEEK LATER.

Here you are, back at your small apartment and to your ordinary life.

You've been staying at your mom's for a few days and wanted to get away from things while mopping about how you hurt not one, but two people's hearts at once.

You hate yourself for that. You will never, ever be able to forgive yourself for that.

But how long will you stay like this? Not doing anything, refusing to move on from things.

You've been staring at your suitcases, too afraid to unpack things that would bring back many memories that you're not ready to recall.

But God! It's been days and you still owe Vin some photos, a lawsuit is probably on its way to your mailbox for contract violation.

For the sake of professionalism, you grab two canned beers from the fridge and sit on the floor. With a deep, deep breath, you slowly unzip your suitcase and open it.

It certainly unlocked a lot of things, not just memories but also the musty smell of the dirty laundry you keep inside a bag.

You hurl the bag of dirty laundry to the corner of the room and start to unpack more things, mementos you took from every stop of the tour. They're all random things, from postcards, fridge magnets, keychains, then all of the passes and wristbands you keep from the concerts and festivals.

You put them together into one Ziploc bag for you to figure out what to do with them later and unpack more things out of the suitcase.

Once you do it, it isn't that hard, it's like taking the bandaid off in one go. It hurts but it's relieving.

Now that everything is back in its place, you move on to the next thing which is your camera bag. Unpacking it while waiting for your laptop to load. You take out everything and carefully lay the camera and lenses on the table, ready to see the accumulated dirt at the bottom of it.

You find a lot of memory cards as you turn the bag upside down and put them in the tray along with the others to check what's the content. You found another thing, a piece of solid plastic with the name Ssick written on it, you believe it's a guitar pick.

How did it get there? You can't recall but it certainly reminds you of someone.

Your heart aches even though no one is saying his name but deep down you're addressing him as his face flashes in the back of your head.

And you miss him, a lot.

You drop the guitar pick on the little tray where you keep all of your memory cards and resist the urge to break down once again, no, you have to do things and keep moving.

Also, you have to stop a lawsuit from happening.

You start by opening your emails and found several of them asking for photos in urgency. It's such a sore thing to see but the only way now is through.

Gritting your teeth, you start working through the night and are glad that it helps take your mind off of things, by the time you're done, you're too tired to even think.

In other words, you get to sleep without crying tonight.

-

It takes everything in you to get out of the apartment and it's not like everyone going to know what you've done, right? You're not Yoko Ono.

You can do the laundry at home but you choose to do it at the laundromat. Opening the lid to one of the washing machines, you dump everything from the laundry bag inside, not having any energy left to sort it first.

After making sure it's working just fine, you get yourself a cup of coffee from the vending machine, then sit on the bench with headphones on.

You bring your laptop with you to check if you get new work emails or if the lawsuit goes to your spam folder. Who knows?

To find something to do, you sort out your work folders and named them based on the stop of the tour. There's a separate folder that you know why it's there.

The song that is playing through your headphones seems to sense that you yearn for someone's presence. Your finger clicked open the folder without you intending to, inside of it is something you promised to make and gift to someone.

You scroll down and see all the memories frozen in pictures, reminiscing the times you took them with or without him knowing.

These photos represent how he looked through your eyes, cool and poised, but underneath that exterior, he's kind and lovely, you feel warm whenever you see his smile. He's the sunshine that brightens your day. He's your best friend and you love him.

You miss him, terribly.

"How I wish, how I wish you were here..."

It's unfortunate that you and he have to go through this thing again. First, it was the distance but time has brought you back together and now, you're not sure that you'll be able to be a good friend to him anymore.

You lied, you betrayed him, you said something that you shouldn't have because it wasn't your place to tell, you broke not just his heart but also the friendship.

You can't bear to see that he will not be in your life anymore, but deep down you're undeserved of being a friend to him.

There's a lump growing in your throat the more you think about him but God, you wish he was here.

"Wish you were here..."

-

THREE WEEKS LATER

It should be good news that the band is having an encore show next month.

There should be cheering sounds and happy smiles and flooding the room with enthusiasm, this means the fans want the band back and to have another show.

Instead of all that, the room remains quiet, no one says anything but nods, to let everyone in the room knows that they heard.

Felix would be excited if only his head wasn't all over the place, his heart wasn't in smithereens and he could tell someone all about it but that someone never picked up his calls.

Felix never meant to mix his personal affair with work but unfortunately, his bandmate is involved in it too. He doesn't mean for things to go this way.

When he glances at Han, he too, doesn't look as enthusiastic. He probably if he wasn't in the middle of his two bandmates who hasn't spoken to each other for weeks.

It frustrates him too.

There are so many things left unsaid, but he can't say things without being mistaken or misunderstood. For this once, Felix wishes that Hyunjin could read his mind so he knows that he's just as hurt, just as sad, just as... confused about himself.

As the band manager dismissed the short and unmeaningful meeting, Hyunjin who didn't even glance his way once, rushes to get out of the room.

The first thought that crosses Felix's head is does Hyunjin hates him that much? That much that he can't stay in the same room with for too long?

Han appears behind him and gently squeezes Felix's shoulder, "just give him time," he says.

Time.

They said time heals, then why Felix is suffering? Why do things remain broken?

Time is not the only thing Felix has given him, he's given him space and distance and silence. All he needed to know is how long he and Hyunjin have to continue living like this.

Whenever he sees him, Hyunjin doesn't try to catch his eyes like he usually does, doesn't even register a smile.

The man who once knew him now feels like Hyunjin sees through him.

Felix admits that he was wrong to think of him as more than just a friend but oh... the feeling.

And It's sad that after all they had, they act like they had never met, but Felix can't just turn his feelings off like a light switch.

The heart might be part of the human body, but somehow it's always out of our control.

-

Felix comes down from the meeting room a while after everyone has left for their respective activities. He doesn't have anything much to do today but to check on his wrist for he had accidentally sprained it once during the tour.

When he arrives at the lobby of the agency, he's surprised to see Lou there. His bleached blond hair turn dark and longer now and he smiles when he sees him.

"I thought you left already," Lou says.

Felix comes up to him as he sits on the square sofa, "what are you doing here?"

"Why? I can't come to visit the agency?"

Felix shyly laughs, he only realized then that his question sounded so unwelcoming when the truth is he was just slightly taken aback.

Lou is a friend of Han and always seems to linger by his side, to see him waiting for him piqued his curiosity as to��why?

"Sorry, I mean, Han has left for the studio," Felix stammers.

Lou chuckles in response, "I know," he shortly replies.

"I waited for you because I have something for you," he says, grabbing a paper bag sitting next to him.

Something for him? First, he waited for him and now he's about to give him something. Felix takes the paper bag from him, "are you sure it's for me?"

He nods, "hate to tell you that it isn't from me."

Felix glances up after taking a little peek inside the bag, "Oh?" His voice curls into a little disappointment.

"Are you that sad that it's not from me?" Lou asks between his chuckles.

Felix shakes his head, "No, I mean..." he gets embarrassed that he doesn't know what to say.

"I'm just the messenger," Lou says with that nonchalant shrug of his.

Felix can't know for sure what's inside because he only sees a big gift box and nothing else. He can't wait to take it home and find out.

But before that, he looks at Lou and it's the first time he feels good seeing someone in a while, one that doesn't get affected by what happened, one who treats him just the same.

"Thank you," Felix sincerely mutters his gratitude.

"No problem," he replies.

Lou picks up his bag from the floor and slings the strap across his shoulder, "You have to thank the real sender," he adds.

Listening to what Lou said, Felix is getting more curious about the person who sent him this.

"Are you going to the studio?" He asks, somehow feeling a little sad that the meeting was short.

"No," Lou answers, "I'm helping a friend with his gallery opening."

"Oh?" Felix lowly exclaims in both awe and surprise.

It baffles him that he knew Lou for two years now but knows so little about him. He heard only a few things about Lou from you, that he can skate, he can DJ, he plays ice hockey, he once helped you trim your hair on tour and so much more.

Felix heard so many good things about Lou yet he only reached to him when he needed help to do something, never once properly treated him like a friend.

However, it's never too late to start.

"Thank you, Lou!" Felix says with utmost sincerity.

Lou softly smiles like he always does and Felix wishes that it will forever stay like that, never changing.

Perhaps, Lou can see in Felix's eyes that he is thanking him for him, then with an open heart, accepts his gratitude.

"See you later?" Lou asks.

Felix smiles at him, "See you later!"

-

It's right in front of him.

Felix takes the gift box out of the paper bag the first thing he got to his apartment, put it on the table in front of him, and stares at it for a minute.

It's unclear what he expects to happen by staring at it.

Deep down, Felix can tell who it is from and he hesitates to open it because he knows he'll be hit by a wave of emotions that, once again, he has no power to control.

Taking a deep breath, Felix lifts the lid and looks inside.

There's a Polaroid camera and boxes of films to fill it. He puts them aside on the table, then pulls out something from the bottom of the box.

He tears through the brown wrapper, revealing a photo album inside. It must be the special gift you promised him.

He's not prepared for it but at the same time, can't wait to discover what lies inside. Flipping the album open, he reads the words written on the first page.

"Our adventure."

It says and he recognized that handwriting and that little curl at the end of every letter resembles the curl of your smile.

Felix flips to the next page and sees the photos of you and him, from your shared teen years. His fingers trail the glossy surface of the photo and wishes that he can feel your warm smile under his fingertips.

He swears he almost heard the sound of your laugh when his finger hovers to the other photo where the two of you are laughing together.

Every time Felix recalls the memory each photo holds, his heart aches for he longed for the times when everything was much simpler, much easier, and happier with you.

Then he comes to a different part, it says.

"My adventure."

For this part, the pages are of your photos from when you were studying abroad, doing various things from cooking to going on a hike, mostly of beautiful places you visit and food you ate.

He guesses that you want to share it with him, all these pretty sceneries with its pretty skies. You're filling in the part when you were absent in his life.

Instead of being sad that he wasn't in this part of your life, he's grateful to know that you were happy and didn't stop yourself from living in the moment.

Simply put, he'll always be happy as long as you're happy. He turns to the next part and finds another piece of writing.

"Our adventure."

You add a little scribble under the words and wrote, "Part 2!"

These are the photos you took during the tour, most of them were goofy ones. There's a photo of him sleeping, eating a cup of noodles, napping with his hands under his chin, of his messy bedhead and so much more snapshots you took without him knowing.

Also, more photos of you together, having slurpees and snacks at a gas station in the middle of nowhere. He misses these little things he did with you, the random conversation talked in between sips and laughs in between words.

Even the most ordinary things feel special when he does it with you.

He opens to the next part of the album that says.

"Your adventure."

As he turns the page, they're all blank, then he realizes why it was sent with a camera. It's useless now that he has no idea what to do with it.

The only adventure he wants to do is with you.

-

It's strange to have a lot of space.

You're so used to living in a small apartment, everything is within reach and you can see everything in one frame.

But now, after moving into a new apartment and it's much bigger than the previous one, you feel a little desolate.

Isn't it a dream to finally have a studio of your own?

It's not big but it's enough, you can pin all of your favorite photographs on one side of the wall and stare at it as much as you want.

You do most things on the first floor because that's where everything is, the kitchen, the bathroom, and the living room blurred into one with the studio. The second floor is strictly private, it's your bedroom and it has ceiling-to-floor windows which is your favorite part of your new apartment.

Another good news is you're booked now, not as in you're fully booked until the end of the year but you received a job offer from here and there.

Today, you got to do a photo shoot with a band for a music magazine. Well, they're not Ssick and not as big, but you heard of their name, not sure when or where, but it's a familiar one.

As you try to recall when was the first time you heard the band's name, you heard footsteps coming from behind you. You haven't had time to meet any of your neighbors, so you turn on your feet to greet them and perhaps, get to introduce yourself to them.

"Hi, hello, I'm your new—"

Your mouth stays open but words stop coming out of it. The one you're seeing is not your neighbor, that you know for sure.

Felix is standing there, exactly like that night when the two of you met again after years.

"Hey," he says.

It takes everything in you not to cry right there, you're happy and sad at the same time but on top of all that, it makes you ask yourself how did you break his heart like that?

You push the lump growing in your throat down and manage to put on a smile for him.

"Hey," you say back even though that isn't supposed to be the first word you should say to him.

It should be "I'm sorry", "I can't apologize enough", or "Please forgive me" and you have the chance to say that but it's not easy.

Instead of that, you ask, "Want to come in?"

He sheepishly smiles and says, "Yes, please!"

-

Felix comes at a bad time.

Not only that your apartment is still a mess, you haven't bought groceries yet. What you have in your fridge right now are bottles of water and some leftover dinner from last night.

"It's a nice place," Felix's deep voice echoing that it startles you.

You turn around and smile, "Yeah, I think so too," you respond and aware of how stupid that sounded.

Coffee is not an option since Felix doesn't like it that much, you turn to look inside the kitchen cabinet and find a box of teabags, "tea?" You hastily offer.

"Sounds nice," he says.

The two of you are sitting on the same sofa not saying anything but watching the curl of the steam coming from the two mugs of hot tea on the coffee table.

Weeks without speaking to each other and now it feels like the two of you are ex-lovers who have gone through a nasty break-up.

Oh well, it's close to something like that.

"I guess you knew from my mom?" You decide to be the first to shatter the dead air hanging between you and him.

"Your new apartment?"

You nod.

"Well, I asked my mom to ask your mom and..." he stops explaining, then chuckles.

"I know," you say.

Before the silence resides once again, you think of something else to ask him, "So, how are you doing?"

It's natural for him to always seek closeness, and intimacy when he's talking to you that you find him slowly closing the space between you and him.

"Good," he shortly replies.

You slightly turn your body to face him but look anywhere else but his eyes, "I saw that you guys are having an encore show," you say.

"Yes," he sighs like it's a piece of bad news.

You reach for your tea but pause as Felix asks you the same thing, "How are you doing?"

You hook your fingers around the handle of the mug, "I'm okay," you answer with an easy smile.

Felix glances at your studio and stares at the photos stuck to the wall, "must be exciting moving into a new apartment!"

You bravely glance his way for a second to see his impressed smile then look away before he notices.

"I saw the ad you did," he says, calmly feeling the upholstery of the sofa and aimlessly drawing lazy circles on it.

"They're amazing. Guess you're fully booked now, huh?" he teases with a low chuckle.

One thing about Felix is he always talks with utmost sincerity, everything that comes out of his mouth contained warmth and purity, and he talks with all of his heart.

Which only reminds you what kind of person you are for breaking that heart. You wrap your hand around the mug and absorb the heat with your palm, it burns but it's nothing compared to what you've been through.

"Actually, Felix..."

He turns his head at you, "Yeah?"

You stare down at your lap for a while before continuing to speak, "I'm not okay at all."

Tears start to pool in your eyes because that's what happens when you start speaking your heart out.

"I feel horrible," your voice begins to quiver as tears roll down your face, "I feel horrible for what I am, of what have I become."

You press your eyes with the heels of your hands to stop the tears despite knowing that it's useless, "I hate myself for what I did, for being a horrible friend to you, for telling things I don't even have the rights to tell, for—"

You're unable to finish your sentence as tears caught in your throat.

It's natural for him to always answer your distress call. He quickly grabs your hand to provide comfort.

"So, no, I'm not okay at all. I broke your heart, I broke our friendship, I broke us," your hands flew to cover your face as your cries turn into sobbing.

Felix doesn't say anything but holds you, holds you so tight as if he's trying to assure you that he's right there with you, despite what you've just said to him.

"I'm sorry," you sob into his chest as your body shakes in his embrace.

Felix suddenly pulls away and holds you by the shoulders. Then you see that his eyes are red and teary, he's crying too.

"Did you really think I was mad at you over someone?"

You can't answer with you keep constantly hiccuping from holding your sobs in.

"I'm indeed mad," he says.

Your eyes are blurry with tears but you can see that Felix is crestfallen, not mad.

"I am mad because years ago you didn't tell me that you were going to study abroad and you left just like that when you promised that we'd be staying together," he explains.

He takes a deep breath to continue talking, "And you did it again!"

You can sense the anger and the disappointment in his voice despite he was trying to fight the tears from falling down his face.

"You broke your promise, you left me again and you didn't even say goodbye to me this time."

Felix looks away for a moment to not lose it to his emotions, to calm himself down. He breathes through his mouth and turns to look at you again, "I'm also mad because I couldn't be a better friend for you—"

You stop him from talking by grabbing a fistful of his shirt and shaking your head, "No, no, it's not you, it's me."

He pulls you close and lets your head falls onto his shoulder, resting his hand on the back of your head, he puts his head on top of yours.

Sorry wouldn't be enough to make up for what you did but then again, you have nothing else to say but sorry.

"I'm sorry," you can barely finish your words without crying. Your hand clutching at the front of his top already soaked with your tears.

He hastily kisses the top of your head and keeps his head close to you, "You are my best friend. I love you more than..." he pauses.

Taking a deep breath, Felix can finally continue speaking, "I rather lose my chance at love than lose you."

Even after all that happened, he still chooses you who lied, was disloyal, and broke his heart. Not to mention, you did it twice yet he still welcomed you with an open heart, letting you in and willingly putting his heart at risk once more.

People would call him a fool for that but for you, that's just Felix.

He's beautiful and kind and has a big, big heart that even if you broke it, his heart still overflows with love and making you ask yourself is it okay to receive it this much from him?

There's one thing you can do now, try to return it to him with the same amount even though you know he'll always have more for you.

The two of you stay like that, pouring out all of your hearts and bleeding together, consoling and seeking comfort from each other, letting the bad out so you both have room for something new and hopefully, better things.

The two of you have always been criers so it's no surprise that it takes an hour for you to finally calm down. You both laughed seeing each other's face from crying, swollen eyes, and runny nose.

The teas are cold by the time you reach for it to have a sip, "don't drink it. It's terrible," you tell him.

Felix looks at his tea and cringe, "I don't even drink tea," he says.

"I know."

"Then why did you?" He asks with an annoyed glare.

You chuckle and put down your mug again to grab more tissues to blow your nose.

"Want to go and grab some meals?"

"Looking like this?" He asks in disbelief, pointing at his swollen face from crying.

You laugh again and take the mugs back to the kitchen, putting them in the sink.

"Well, there's always drive-thru," you simply resolve with a smile.

-

When you thought Felix is ordering that much food for both of you, he sits back down in his seat and asks you, "What do you want?"

You got into a little fight because you insist on paying this time and once you got your order, you parked the car in the empty part of the parking lot, facing the busy main street.

It's not an ideal place to eat and talk about things in between, catching up on all the lost time and enlightening him about some misunderstandings.

"I didn't mean to not tell you about studying abroad because I did, I just..." you pause to sip your soda through a straw.

You recall how you decided not to tell him that you were going to leave him to study something that he didn't even know you have a passion for.

"You were always so excited about music and how you wanted to do it with me," you continue.

You turn to look at him in the dark of the car with the only source of light coming from the streetlight, "I didn't want to ruin that for you."

Felix puts down the piece of fry he's holding and sighs, "I understand," he says.

He wipes his hand with a napkin, "I was mad and heartbroken but now, after hearing that, I'm glad that you took it, glad that I didn't force you to stay," he sincerely says.

It's a relief that Felix finally knows the truth and that it was just a misunderstanding, but there's another thing that he should know.

"You know I got homesick all the time," you confess.

Felix drinks his soda by gulping it instead of using a straw.

"And it wasn't a place or a thing, or... the food," you gleefully chuckle.

"It was you. I missed you when I was away."

There's a crease formed a questioning expression on his face, "Only when you were away?"

You break into laughter and nod, "yeah, only when we're far away from each other," you confirm.

Felix takes a moment to process this newfound fact then nods, "Okay, I can accept that."

The food wrappers mount in the front seat of the car and you shove everything into the plastic bag while Felix is connecting his phone to the car stereo so he can play some music.

You hand him his cup of ice cream then you pick up your own, opening the lid to dig into it with a spoon. Maybe it's because both of you are full and both staring out at the windshield, the silence taking over the space but it's the comfortable kind.

It creates this safe space where Felix finally found the comfort to speak his heart out. He puts down his cup and sighs as he reclines in his seat.

"I wasn't even sure it is love," he begins.

You keep eating the melted ice cream in silence while intently listening to him.

"I just thought that I only admire him because he's so cool, you know?" He says with a foolish smile.

You nod in agreement and that's not because you're biased, it's a widely known and proven fact.

"So I allow myself to admire him more, getting to know him more and he let me."

Felix stares up at the car ceiling, not sure what he's seeing at it then continues talking, "But he makes me feel seen, he always acknowledging my presence, he's so involved in my life that the next thing I know, I'm in it. I'm in love."

He closes his eyes and lets out a long sigh. Those words are louder than the music playing in the car, he lets those words hang in the air and echo in the small space, in the hope that it will help him find the answer.

Felix gets nothing but the quiet of the night with the constant buzzing of the streetlight looming over the car.

"I know I couldn't just tell him that and he'd reciprocate it," he says with a snide laugh.

"So I hold it in because it's better to not say it than risk losing everything by saying it out loud," his voice turns lower the more he speaks.

He then turns his head and looks at you, "I couldn't tell you because..." he stops in the middle of the sentence and you can't tell if he's running out of breath or losing his thoughts.

He looks away then shakes his head, "I honestly don't know. I just feel like..."

He stops again and he closes his eyes as if what he's going to say next pains him.

"I fear that you would change around me," he mutters.

You feel something dropping onto your lap and only realized it then that you're crying. Somehow you're not mad about his decision to not tell you about it, it's normal for him to be scared to open up a part of himself and the judgments he'll get from it.

Rather than being mad, you feel bad for not being there for him when he needs you the most.

"You know I love you," you tell him with your tears rolling down your cheeks.

You gently put your hand on his and hold it, "I love you no matter what," you assure him while staring into his glassy eyes.

Felix sniffles as he fights the urge to cry and puts his other hand on you.

"That's not the only thing that makes you, Felix. I've known you for years and you better believe me when I tell you that you're of so many things," you tell him.

You swallow air to not let your cry get in the way while you're talking, "You're of so many lovely things. You are beautiful and kind, you're a good person, you have a good heart, you never think ill of anyone, you're thoughtful and passionate about what you do, you—"

You squeeze his hand to emphasize the words you're going to say to him, "you deserve everything and more."

Felix retracts his hand to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand and takes a deep breath. He looks at you with a sad smile on his face, "Thank you," he says with a hoarse voice.

"You are very welcome," you tell him.

You grab the clean napkins from your lap and hand them to him, taking one for you too.

"Oh, great! We're crying again!" You complain while dabbing your teary eyes with it.

Felix laughs as he also wipes his cheeks with the napkin, laughing at each other's faces again for the second time that day.

It reminds you of that song and how the two of you fit in those lyrics: "We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year, running over the same old ground. What have we found? The same old fears. Wish you were here."

There's no need to wish now because he's right here.

-

Always being the good friend he is, Felix refuses your offer to drive him home.

You walk out of the apartment building together to get a taxi for him. The night is getting cold as it's the beginning of fall.

"I'll send you tickets for our encore shows," he says with a jeering smile.

"No, thanks, I'll buy it myself like anyone else," you kindly refuse.

He covers your mouth with his hand and shakes his head no, "I'll send you tickets for both days so you have no excuse to not come to at least one of them," he insists.

Since you can't say anything with his hand over your mouth, you give in with an annoyed glare.

Felix triumphantly smiles and puts his hand down, he stares at you, he has that look when he hesitates to ask something.

"What is it?"

He licks his lips before speaking, "Have you two talked?"

Your smile wavers even though you have expected this question, "Felix, I don't think I—"

"Why? Are you afraid that I'll be jealous?"

You take a step back but he closes the space again, "or are you afraid that he'll choose me?" He jokingly asks.

He puts his hand on your shoulder and gently squeezes at it, "it takes no genius to know that he likes you very much," he says.

"Do you like him too? That I don't know."

You scoff and look down at your feet, not sure if you're avoiding Felix and his questions or anything related to Hyunjin altogether.

"But like you said, we've known each other for years and I know you like him back," he concludes that you know is true and there's no use to deny it, Felix would know when you're lying.

"And..." he cups your face with both hands and makes you look at him, "I'm not getting in the way of my friends' happiness."

He leans in close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath on your face, "I'm happy if you're happy, remember?"

There's no way that there's another Felix in this world, he's special, one of a kind and you're lucky that he's your best friend.

"No, it's just... not going to work. He's..." you try to avoid saying his name but it comes to a moment where you can't describe him in another way.

"Hyunjin..." and saying his name unlocks the memories and the emotions that come with it.

You take Felix's hands and put them down, "And I am just... me."

Not giving up yet, he holds your hands and warmly smiles at you, "and you're of so many things. You're smart, you're funny, you're a great photographer, you're beautiful, you're a great friend, a great person."

You can't help but smile when he compliments you the same way you did to him.

"And you deserve to be happy," he adds in the end.

You so badly want to believe that but having your friendship back is already more than you deserve, how come you still want more?

You shake your head and refuse to be greedy, shaking your head to convince yourself that this is not what you want. You already have what you want and he's right in front of you, "Felix, I don't want to—"

The only hard thing to do is say no to Felix, you look away and see a taxi coming your way.

"There's a taxi," You run to the side of the street while hailing for it.

Felix sighs knowing that you choose to leave the conversation instead of going through it with him. He walks over as you open the taxi door for him.

"I take it that you're promised to come to our shows," he says, not accepting any other answer from you.

You nod and smile.

He pulls you into a hug and holds you tightly, "thank you for tonight," he murmurs.

You hug him back and absorb the heat of his body that always puts you in comfort, "thank you for tonight," you murmur back.

He pulls away just enough to look at you, smiling so brightly to finally land a kiss on your cheek, "I'll see you soon!"

"See you soon," you repeat and to surprise him, kiss him back on the cheek.

He gets taken aback for a while and blinks his eyes at you. While holding his cheek he says, "I like that," he innocently says.

You laugh and push him into the backseat of the taxi, "Goodnight! Be careful!"

Felix rolls down the window to wave his hand at you, "It's cold! Get inside!"

You give him the thumb up while taking a few steps back to watch his taxi drives further away from you.

As you're making your way back inside, you convince yourself that this is enough. You got your friendship back therefore you shouldn't be thinking that you can have love too.

-

It's time for Felix to fix the other friendship.

He knows it would be just as hard but it's for the good of both his friendship and the band. They can't continue to treat each other like this but at the same time think as if nothing happened.

Before the band rehearsal starts, he comes up to Hyunjin as he's tuning his guitar inside the studio. He gulps air and gathers his guts to ask him, "Hey, can we talk?"

Hyunjin glances up to see him and he seems to have expected this, he puts his guitar away, then says, "Alright."

Han puts his bass down as he notices that they need privacy so he leaves the studio, then closes the door behind him.

It's a good thing that they're talking in a soundproofed room, Felix can easily talk without fearing that someone could hear them. But when it comes to talking, he doesn't know where to begin.

"You know everything by now," Felix nervously starts.

He wipes his palms down his jeans even though they're not sweaty, "I always have my eyes on you but obviously, now, you have your eyes on someone else," he awkwardly chuckles.

It's making him nervous as Hyunjin remains quiet, he would be grateful if Hyunjin is yelling at him instead of staying silent.

"I'm sorry," Felix hurriedly concludes before he starts aimlessly rambling on and on.

"I didn't mean for you to find out about this. I was going to keep it all in—"

"For how long?" Hyunjin cuts through his words with eyes intensely staring at him.

"W-what do you mean?" Felix stutters as it's the first time Hyunjin snapped at him like this.

Hyunjin gets up from his chair and stands right in front of him, face to face and giving him no way out but going through it with him.

"How long did you plan to keep it a secret?" He asks again.

Felix takes a step back and reorganizes his breathing.

"Why do you like me?" Hyunjin bluntly asks.

It's getting harder for Felix to breathe he feels like his lungs are collapsing, "I didn't mean to. I-I..."

Felix doesn't know how to explain it. One day he came to the realization that he has feelings for Hyunjin.

"It just happened. I don't know," he explains. He's just as clueless as Hyunjin about everything.

"Why, Felix? Why?"

"I don't know," Felix replies with a desperate sigh.

"Why—"

"I said I don't know," this time Felix cuts him off with an aggressive answer.

Hyunjin searches for his eyes and forces him to look back at him, "Why did you apologize?"

Felix sees that Hyunjin's gaze softens and he's no longer mad, he's rather sad, it's a heartbreaking sight to see.

Hyunjin licks his lips and brushes his hair to the back, "you have feelings for me but I know it can't be helped," he says.

He puts his hand on Felix's shoulder and looks deeper into his eyes, "I should be the one apologizing to you."

Felix has everything planned in his hand but this is not part of that, he got speechless the table is turned.

"For being such an asshole, for being insensitive and a lousy friend," he softly speaks while keeps looking into Felix's eyes.

Hyunjin puts his other hand on Felix's shoulder and lets out a long, shaky air. It seems like he's struggling to let out what he's going to say next.

"Felix, I appreciate you so much because I know that I'll never find another one like you and I would give you everything you wanted in the world," he explains.

He drops his head for a second before looking at his face again with an even sadder expression on his face, "That I am I deeply apologize for," his eyes are heavy with sadness that it's tugging Felix's heart and weighing him down.

"I cannot give you what you want," he says with a defeated sigh.

The lump in Felix's throat feels like a hot coal that burns him from the inside the longer he keeps himself from crying and so far he's been doing a great job at it.

"But will you stay beside me even though I can't give you what you want?" Hyunjin asks.

Felix knows that Hyunjin is not just asking. This question determines everything, this is where their path branches out and they have to choose where to go.

It means that Felix has to deal with the fact that Hyunjin can't accept his love and it's not like he has a chance in the first place.

Felix clears his throat before giving his final answer, "To always have you beside me is enough for me," he puts on a smile at the end of the sentence.

A smile finally rises on Hyunjin's face after a long time and it warms his heart to see it. He pulls Felix into a hug and pats his back as he eases into his arms, "thank you," he murmurs.

"Thank you," Felix says back and he can't tell him what he's grateful for, but Felix believes Hyunjin knows what he's grateful for as their hearts are the closest they have been to each other in years with mere flesh and bones in between, beating as one.

Han soon comes into the studio and hugs both of them, smiling and seeing his friends making up, making the band whole again.

"I told you guys not to fight over me," He jokes as he puts his arms around them.

Other than himself, Felix is aware that he must have been putting the band in distress, but he's glad that they give him the space and time, and patience as he picks things up at his pace. 

They're part of who he is now because everyone around him helped him grow, they're there whenever he has to decide and affects the decision he takes. They hold a part of him as he has parts of them in him, they're one, and they're going on an adventure together.

Hyunjin pulls him into the middle and squeezes him together with Felix.

"I think we all should kiss and make up," Han playfully suggests.

Hyunjin, repulsed by what he said, doesn't waste time to groan, "EW!!!"

While Felix, as the personification of love touch, endearingly kisses him on the cheek. Han grimaces but not moving until Felix pulls away.

"Now we make out," Felix jokes.

Han screams in panic, "No, I said make up not make out!"

As Hyunjin holds him by his waist, Felix grabs Han's face and angles it to him, laughing as he's witnessing everything.

"I'm pretty sure I heard make out!"

Felix jokingly leans in closer while Han's scream is getting louder and louder. 

This is going to be one Ssick adventure.

-

It brings back memories as you enter the concert venue except that tonight, you'll be watching from the front and among the crowd.

Felix texted you a few times asking if you came or not, you feel bad for not replying. For this one night, you want to experience their show like everyone else and not through the camera like you always do.

Indeed, it feels different now that you're a part of the crowd and get to watch the show, singing to every song at the top of your lungs and not worrying about anything else but having fun.

Sure, your heart hurts seeing him but with this euphoric feeling of the thumping music and loud cheers, it helps to dull the pain.

As for the band, they're getting bigger and bigger each day, literally and figuratively, they're not stopping, if anything, they're speeding on their way to the top.

You're proud of them and proud that you've been a part of it despite having just a small role in it. You're proud to be a part of their history.

Ssick, the greatest band to ever exist.

-

"Are you sure it's taken?"

Felix has been asking staff if someone has taken the seat he reserved for you. He has no other choice since you didn't reply to any of his texts.

"Yes, it says the ticket is scanned," the staff replies.

He's pacing back and forth while wiping his sweat with a towel, ignoring that he's tired from the show. The others are anxiously seeing him and Han gets curious as to what he's so antsy about.

"Are you waiting for someone?" He asks.

Felix looks around the room to find Hyunjin, he's nowhere so he must be showering right now. However, he smiles at Han and shakes his head, "Nothing."

He takes his phone and furiously types a new text message to send you.

Lou comes barging into the green room with a loud banging sound of the door opening, "I found this loitering outside, should we take it or...?"

Felix gets a Deja Vu, he once heard those same words before. He spun around to find Lou grinning while pulling someone behind him.

"Can you stop texting me already?" You complain while showing your phone buzzing with a new one he just sent you.

Felix squints his eyes at you, slightly annoyed that you ruin his plan to surprise everyone with your presence.

He walks toward you, scolding and pointing his finger at you, "You! Why didn't you—"

Someone cuts into the line and gets to you first, "What are you doing here? You're fired, remember?" Vin jokes.

You roll your eyes at him and give him a quick hug, "I am not fired," you persist through your gritted teeth.

Vin laughs then takes a good look at you, "What's that on your face? Is that makeup?"

You groan and stop his hand from touching your face. He's probably used to seeing your bare face with only a few layers of sunscreen and your eyes always look tired.

"Where's your camera? Don't you have photos to retouch?" He jokes again.

"Excuse me, I'm not working for you anymore," you say with a sly smile.

"You!" Vin is a second away from scolding you.

It's weird to say you miss being scolded by him but you do. You hurriedly linked your arm with him and grinned at him, "Please don't hesitate to hire me again!"

Felix doesn't want to wait any longer, he comes to hug you, "You didn't reply to my texts," he continuously nagging you.

"Oh, my God! I'm here now!" You mumble as you hug him back.

Han appears behind Felix, shouting, "Look at that! Our girl is back!"

He takes his turn to give you a quick hug, "Why didn't you come by before the show starts?"

You shrug, "It was a great show by the way and I got to fully enjoy every bit of it without having to worry someone about to scold me for not getting any great photos," you uneasily glance at Vin and giggle.

"Put you on the blacklist," he jokingly says.

You turn at Han again then at Felix, you do realize that someone else missing from this scene. You swallow air before continuing, "But seriously! Amazing, amazing show!"

It's nothing new to them that you're bad at conveying your thoughts into words, two thumbs up are enough to emphasize those words and assure them that you meant every word you said.

"Amazing!"

Just like it was timed, Hyunjin comes out of the other room while drying his hair with a towel, sucking a bottle of water. It's like time stops and you and him are the only ones existing in this moment, eyes met with so many words left unsaid.

He's so close yet so far, he's within your grasp but out of your touch. He's like a dream that you don't want to wake up to but you can't stay asleep forever. You have to face the truth that you can't have him in your wake.

You look away and turn at Felix, "Love your solo today!" You awkwardly compliment him.

"How about me?" Han asks, feeling competitive over silly things.

"You're great as always!" You say while patting his head.

Lou pulls Han back and keeps him in his place, "will you also come for tomorrow's show?"

"Not sure. I have work tomorrow," you reply.

"At least come to the after-party," Lou whines like a toddler.

You softly chuckle, "I'll try."

Felix notices that you avoid looking in Hyunjin's direction as he stands across the room, quietly opening a new can of drink.

It's sad if you have to lose your chance at love too, not when he knows that Hyunjin is in love with you and you're just as in love with him.

He doesn't want to be that person who stops his friends from their happiness.

"For tonight, I'll let you guys rest and it was truly a great show. I had so much fun!" You tell them once again.

Felix grabs your elbow, "you're leaving already?"

"Yeah," you simply answer.

You take his hand and hold it, "I'll see you again."

"Tomorrow?" He guesses.

You only answer with a chuckle and that doesn't put him at ease.

"It's nice seeing you guys! Good luck for tomorrow!" You say for the last time.

Waving your hands at them by the doorway, Felix catches your sad smile a second before you turn away to leave.

There's no way he's doing nothing when he knows his best friend deserves a happy ending.

-

To say that he's happy to see you would be an understatement.

Hyunjin is ecstatic, elated, delirious with happiness and that's just from looking at you. What would it be if he could do more than just look?

He wants to touch you, hug you, and kiss you, he's yearning for you, missing you like he's losing a limb of his body. He's alive but he's barely breathing.

Why can't you do this? Why can't you love him back? Why can't you at least try for him? Why?

That question lingers in his head until Felix stops him from entering the van. Hyunjin looks at him with eyes widening, "what's wrong?"

"Exactly!" Felix says back at him.

He grips the strap of his bag so hard that his knuckle turns white, "what is wrong with you?"

Hyunjin is not in the mood to talk, especially when he's tired and heartbroken still. He takes a step back to prevent himself from doing things he doesn't intend to.

"I'm tired," he shortly responds, then tries to walk past him to enter the van.

Felix once again stops him by putting his hand against his chest, "so that's it?"

"What do you want? Really?" Hyunjin may have raised his voice louder.

"You're not going to chase after her and try to fix it?" Felix raises his voice even louder at him.

Han pops his head out from inside the van, "guys, please?" He pleads, scared that they might lose it this time.

Hyunjin unclenches his jaws and instantly regretted snapping at him, "She said she doesn't want to do this," he meekly says.

"Then try to convince her!" Felix simply resolves.

He takes a deep breath to calm himself down and lowers his voice this time, "If you really love her, then prove it to her! Go to her!"

As much as Hyunjin wanted to be with you, he thinks of Felix. Hyunjin has gone through the same thing, so he knows how it feels to be in that position, to keep both sides happy he has to sacrifice his happiness.

Hyunjin drops his bag to the floor and sighs, "what if—"

Felix takes his bag from him and tosses it into the van in which Lou grabs it in time. He then takes his phone out of his jeans pocket. 

"Don't think!" He says.

Hyunjin's phone buzzes from inside his jacket pocket and opens the text Felix just sent him. It's an address.

"Just do it!" Felix adds.

But does this mean Felix is on his team?

Felix grabs Hyunjin's shoulder and shakes it, "what are you waiting for?"

While holding Hyunjin's bag, Lou says, "I'll cover for you. Go!"

Hyunjin looks at Felix and there are so many things he wanted to say to him. Among apologies, he wants to say how grateful he is for him, to be existing at the same time with him and being his friend.

All that comes out of his mouth is, "Thank you."

-

Hyunjin's heart is pitter-patter. He feels like it's going to jump out of his chest at any moment as he arrived in your apartment building.

He takes the stairs as if his heart rate isn't high enough, taking two stairs at a time until he gets there, right in front of your door.

There are a few things he would say that he has prepared for the moment you open the door. He takes a deep breath and knocks on the door. His excitement gradually fades as every knock on your door is left unanswered.

"It's me," he says just in case you wonder who's knocking in the middle of the night.

He knocks again but there's still no answer. Getting hopeless, he leans close to the door and talks loud enough for you to hear.

"Can you please open the door for me?"

He closes his eyes and lets out a desperate sigh, "Please?"

This is what he fears the most, not the rejection but not getting the chance to explain and make things right. At least, he can go home now knowing he has tried his best.

With a heavy heart, Hyunjin turns around his feet and heads for the stairs, bumping into a person and knocking things down.

"Oh no! The eggs!" You sadly mumble as you pick up the plastic bag from the floor.

"I'm sorry!" Hyunjin mutters without thinking.

Without having to check, Hyunjin is pretty sure that he broke all the eggs as the content filled the plastic bag.

You don't even look surprised to see him, annoyed is more like it. Everything that Hyunjin has planned to say evaporated from his head. He bursts out anything that crosses his head at that moment.

"Why aren't you home?"

You look inside the plastic bag once again and sigh, "I was out to buy eggs and milk for breakfast tomorrow."

"I've been knocking at your door for an hour!"

You jerk your head back, unamused, "And I can't have eggs for my breakfast tomorrow because of you!" You scold back.

"Well, you still have the milk," he nonchalantly says then shrugs.

Hyunjin is aware of how he keeps talking without thinking and just saying everything he wants, he looks at you and you look back at him.

At the same time, you break into laughter. The hilarity lasts as long as each of you keeps breaking into another series of laughter.

When the laughs died down, he clears his throat and says, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" You ask.

"For the eggs."

"Anything else?" You ask with an eyebrow raised higher than the other.

"For coming here just now," he adds.

You nod and warmly smile at him, "Want to come in?"

Hyunjin definitely wants to come in and hopefully, will never leave.

-

While you're busy disposing of your broken eggs into the bin, Hyunjin walks around your new apartment and looks at each photo on the wall.

Places, sceneries, and moments captured in pictures. Looking at them, Hyunjin feels like he's looking at the world through your eyes.

"Here," you hand him a can of soda.

"These are beautiful," he compliments the photos on the wall.

"Thank you," you shortly reply.

Hyunjin opens it and takes a long gulp of it before putting it down on your desk. That's when he sees it.

"I'm offended by how you treat my token of love for you," he says.

You look around and see what he called a token of love on your desk. You guess it's the guitar pick inside the small tray full of memory cards.

You pick it up and show it to him, "this is a token of love?"

"It's my first guitar pick I used for the tour, it's meaningful, it's a token of love," he explains.

The only thing it reminds you of is how he flicked this thing at your head at the first concert, "you threw it at my head," you say with eyes widened.

"You're supposed to catch it!"

"How do I know that you want me to catch it?" You argue back.

He tips his head to the side and glares at you, "That's me telling you I like you!"

"Hyunjin, that's not how you give someone a token of love," you tell him with a snide smile.

He puts a hand on the desk to support him, "I thought you'd get it," he meekly says.

You come up to him and also put your hand on the desk, "Now you know why I thought you hated me, huh?"

It all makes sense now. He realizes he has a very unusual way to show his affection. Hyunjin sheepishly laughs and slips his hand under your arm, "Can we... hmm..."

He laughs again the moment he looks at your slyly smiling at him. Pulling you close, he asks, "Can we skip this embarrassing part and goes straight to making up then we can kiss after?"

Just having a whiff of his scent gets you intoxicated already, putting you under his spell, making you submit to his wishes, and those lips are just... incredibly tempting.

You notice that he's looking down at your lips too.

"Why don't we kiss already?" You offer a better idea.

With your permission, he doesn't waste another second to lean in and kisses you, so softly at first, and turns hungrier after a few kisses.

He still likes biting at your lower lip before pulling away, tugging it between his teeth, and making you moan as he kisses you whole, taking your breath away.

"I miss you so much," he murmurs close to your ear.

You turn your head to look at him but he captures you in a rapturous kiss, making you giggle against his lips.

"I miss you too," you murmur back the second he lets go of the kiss.

Using your finger, you trail the frame of his small, beautiful face. You admire the facial features that you believe are meticulously sculpted by God himself.

You look into his eyes as he looks back at you as if your eyes hold the universe in them, "I miss you too much."

Hyunjin sits on the edge of the desk so he can be at the same eye level as you and pulls you close, that way he can stare into your eyes and dives into them, never to come out of the surface.

"Let's do this, yeah?"

The hands that are resting on your waist, he glides them up until they are wrapped around your neck, cupping your face with both hands, he places a soft kiss on your lips.

"I think we can do anything if we're together," he says, resting his forehead against yours, "don't you think?"

Something about him that always makes you believe that you're worth more than you think, makes you believe that you can fly higher with your little wings and ride in the wind.

You open your mouth to say your answer, but he uses the opportunity to kiss your open mouth.

"I'll not take no for an answer," he mutters as his sweet smile puts you under the spell again.

You stare into his eyes, seeking the answer from his spellbinding eyes. All you have to do is put your trust in this relationship.

Just like Hyunjin said, no one has a say in this relationship, he trusts you therefore you only have to trust him back.

You nod, "Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

A smile blooms on Hyunjin's face, he expressed his happiness by giving you a long, lingering kiss, one of many more kisses to come. A token of love that lasts time and age. Miraculously, his kisses always leave you wanting more and more.

His body calls to your answer as he hoists you up against his body, lifting your legs and hooking them around his waist.

"You don't want to carry me to the bedroom," you mutter against his lips.

"Huh? Why?"

"It's upstairs."

He raises his eyebrow at you, "you think I'm not strong enough to carry you there?"

You didn't mean to stroke his ego but it's amusing to see his flabbergasted face.

"Okay then, tough guy. Take me there!" You dare him.

"Hang on tight then!" He warns you.

Putting your hands around his neck, you watch over his shoulder as he takes the stairs one step at a time. The veins on his neck are bulging through his milky skin as he uses all of his strength to climb the rest of the stairs.

"Almost there!" You tease by whispering into his ear.

Without warning, he spins you around once he arrives in your bedroom, and keeps spinning until your body hits the mattress.

You're still laughing as he places his body on top of you, putting the stray hair covering your face to the side.

He places sweet little kisses all over your face and tenderly kisses your closed eyelids before putting his lips on yours again. His hand is busy undressing you, seamlessly removing each piece of clothing without taking his lips off of you.

He whimpers as he freely roams his hand around your body, "I almost forgot how soft you are," he dreamily sighs.

You roll over on the bed and have him under you, hovering above him as your hand is working open the buttons of his shirt. You don't know how he undressed you without looking, it's certainly not easy.

You part it open after successfully unbuttoning his shirt, touching and trailing his taut muscles with your fingertips.

Hyunjin snakes his hand around and under you, tracing the curve of your rear, kneading on the flesh with his fingers teasing the fabric of your underwear.

Before you can say anything he crashes his lips at you again, kissing you harder and deeper with teeth and tongues clashing in your mouth.

With his lips glistening wet and red, words falling out of it like a waterfall.

"I love you," he softly mutters.

It's a liberating feeling to know that you don't have to hide, not have to worry about people coming, knocking at your door, and interrupting you. Other than that, you're no longer shackled by the fear of being seen with him.

With that, you slowly let go of all your worries and insecurities that stopping you from enjoying the moment. From now on, you allow yourself to have him and him to have you, wholly and completely, with all of your heart.

"I love you too," you mutter back.

That being said, you also letting go of the fears around you and replacing them with excitement about your future together.

-

It's so dangerous.

When Hyunjin thinks that you're the cutest when you're shy around him, that's because he hasn't you being bold and confident.

Your hand moves down to undo the button of his jeans and it's only a matter of time now, he gets to feel your hand wrapped around his length.

Bet you know how much he wanted you right now as you slowly pull it out of its confine and slowly stroke it.

What are you trying to do? He wonders.

You hover above him and kiss him deep that he has a hard time catching up with it, losing the air in his lungs and gasping for air the moment you let go. With your face merely inches away from him, you shot him a sly, seductive smile as if telling him what's coming for him and he wonders...

You start making a long trail of kisses down his body, neck, chest, ribs, stomach, and abdomen. He knows where are you heading next and he's not going to stop you despite his heart beating so fast at an abnormal rate.

The hair that sweeps his skin, tickles him, sending tingles inside and down there. It's nothing compares to when you slowly take his length in your mouth, little by little.

Propping an elbow against the mattress, Hyunjin looks at how your lips wrapped around his cock and uses a hand to compensate for the rest that you can't take.

"Oh fu—" he stops himself from cursing and reaches for your head, tangling his hand in your hair.

Mesmerized by watching you, he snaps out of his daze when you pull away and ask, "Good?"

Hyunjin, unable to provide a verbal answer, awkwardly nods.

You pull his jeans down his legs while Hyunjin shakes his shirt hanging on his shoulders, and tosses it away. Shifts his attention back to you, snaking his hand to your back to unclasp your bra and take it off of you.

Can't help himself, he buries his head in your neck, placing kisses down to your chest with his hand cupping your breast.

Drunk with the scent of your body, using both hands, he uses them to pull your underwear down your legs and gets it out of the way so he can put his hand to feel that delicate flesh under his touch.

Hyunjin thinks about you a lot, asleep or awake. However, the reality is always out of his expectations, in the best way. Sitting on the bed with you with both your hands stimulating each other at the same time. Nothing can be sexier than this.

Hyunjin was too haste to say that because the next thing you say is the sexiest thing he ever heard.

"Can I do what I want with you?"

That gets him slightly terrified but mostly excited, he doesn't know what you're going to do with him but he knows that it's going to be a thrill ride. He nods without even thinking.

Putting your hand on his chest, you lay him down on the bed and put your body on top, kissing him, making him forget the excitement that drives him almost crazy.

The next thing he knows you're rubbing up your wetness on his erect shaft, pulsating with desire.

Before his senses slip further away from him, he calls for you, "Baby?"

"Yeah?"

"Condoms?" He reminds you.

You give him a quick peck on the lips, "do you mind if we're doing it without?"

Hyunjin needs time to process it so that he doesn't say anything for a good minute.

You kiss his open mouth, "why are you so tense?"

"I-is it okay with you?" He stammers.

"That's why I asked."

"I don't want to pressure you to do things you don't want."

You subtly roll your eyes at him, "I initiated it. What makes you think that I don't want to do this?"

This is not what he expects to happen, bickering in the middle of sex. The second your eyes meet, you collapse onto his body and chuckle into his chest.

"We don't match well," Hyunjin mumbles.

"Well, we hated each other from the first time we met," you say.

He lifts your head and glares at you, "Huh? I never hated you."

You pout and shrug, "But it showed."

Hyunjin lets out a dramatic sigh out loud, "Yeah, well, what do you even know?"

You smile as you land a kiss on his lips, "what do you even know?" You repeat.

It's dangerous seeing you taking over his body, pleasing him by moving your hips back and forth and he gets to watch while comfortably lying on his back.

Yeah, it's cute to see you keep avoiding his eyes during sex but it's a whole different thing when you fiercely look down at him, then into his eyes while continuously moving.

Hyunjin almost forgot that he can still use his hands to admire your body, holding your breasts as they move along with every movement you make.

"Good?" You ask as you change your move and slowly roll your hips in circular motions.

Hyunjin's eyes are fluttering shut, overwhelmed.

"Too good, baby," he breathlessly replies.

He glides his hand to touch your lips only for you to suck on his thumb which reminds him of what your mouth feels like around his cock.

"Too good," he says again.

He brushes your hair to the side and looks at your pretty face, "you should stop staring at me with those eyes?"

That only sends you lean in close and stare deeply into your eyes, "or what?"

He groans as he feels you clenching around him and you enjoy doing it to him from that sly smile on your face.

"I'm going to cum too fast," he admits, he's been holding it for far too long now. It's actually a surprise that he didn't cum the moment he fully entered you.

"So what's the problem with that?" You simply ask.

Hyunjin doesn't want to cum before you, that's the problem.

You put your hand against the mattress and caress his face, "you don't want to cum inside me?" you boldly ask with an innocent pout on your face.

A stifled moan escapes his mouth as you grab the headboard of the bed for support and pick up the pace of your movements, driving him to his limit.

Hyunjin can't stop himself from grunting from under you, his nails dug into your flesh as he gripped your waist. His eyes screwed shut and his grunts turned into breathless whimpers then...

You slow down the pace knowing that he just climaxing but keep moving nonetheless, lowly moaning feeling his cock twitching inside you.

The moment he opens his eyes, you are looking at him with a smile on your face, "Hi, baby," you softly speak as if you didn't just make him cum inside you.

"Hi," he weakly says back, bringing your face close to kiss you.

Slowly, he pulls you to lay next to him on the bed to cuddle you and kisses you more. He places more kisses on any skin he can put his lips on and you let him have it.

As he lays there with you next to him, basking in love and bliss, he wonders if is it okay for him to feel this much.

The only thing Hyunjin knows for certain is who he should thank.

-

The coffee machine has started pouring coffee into the pot when you hear Hyunjin calling for you from upstairs.

He's not going to stop unless you come and show yourself to him. Half running to your bedroom, you find him still laying on the bed with his upper body exposed, basking in the warm morning sun.

"I was making coffee," you tell him as you walk to the bed and crawl over to him.

"Who needs coffee when I have you?" He wraps his hands around you and holds you close.

Without warning, he turns you over on the bed and pinned you under him, intensely gazing into your eyes with his warm brown eyes.

"Now that we're together, I was hoping I get to finally wake up next to you," he says.

You rest your hand on the back of his neck, raking his dark locks with your fingers, "we did."

"No, I woke up to an empty bed," he corrects you.

The way he sulks is adorable, his lower lip jutting out and a crease formed between his eyebrows. You don't think he would be fussing this much about waking up alone when he knows he's staying over at your place.

As an apology, you softly kiss him on the lips, "I'm sorry."

He smiles after hearing your apology, "Apology accepted."

"Already?"

He nods.

"Then we should go downstairs. The coffee is ready," you tell him.

He stops you from trying to get up and takes both of your hands to pin them above your head. Shaking his head, he says, "Not yet."

You sense mischief and you can see it in his eyes, filled with wild glints. You can't do much with him pinning your hands against the mattress.

Hyunjin kisses you, hard and deep, his tongue invades your mouth with teeth faintly biting on your lips.

A moan spills out of you as he starts gently kissing, sucking the skin on your neck. There's no need to guess, it's obvious that he wants to return the favor to you.

With the knowledge that you know what he can do with every part of his body and puts it to good use, you lay back and let him please you as he wants.

Hyunjin puts the duvet away, exposing both of your bodies to the sunlight flooding the room as the day gets brighter. His skin is glowing and warm, he's scintillating like the sun itself.

The way he slowly thrusts into you without looking away from your eyes, not even for a second feels like it's not just physical pursuit.

"Look at you," he says.

He cups your jaw in one hand, "You dare to look back at me now."

That makes you aware that you've been staring back into his eyes and instantly looking away from him. Hyunjin chuckles as he kisses your cheek.

"You feel so good, baby," he whispers into your ear.

You hook your legs around him, sending him deeper into you.

"But last night... oh..." he sighs as he hastily kisses your neck.

"You fuck me so good last night I don't think I'll ever forget it," he adds.

With those beautiful lips, he can say provocative words and makes them sound like poems, making you extremely aroused and deeply in love at once.

Sending you close to your high that you gripping his shoulders from the sensation that keeps building up.

"Close, mmh?" His lips brush yours as he speaks.

You nod with your eyes closed.

"Cum whenever you want, beautiful," he murmurs before planting his lips on yours again.

His lips which keep latching on yours, contained your loud moans as you get your release. The knot inside you tightens and loosens, waves of pleasure washing over you again and again.

With your eyes still closed, you search for his lips to kiss and when you finally did, you say, "Thanks to you, we can't have eggs for breakfast."

"Are holding a grudge against me?" Hyunjin asks in disbelief.

Sadly, this heavenly moment has to eventually end. You have a job to do and Hyunjin has to go back for a soundcheck, Vin has been calling him non-stop since he gets into the bathroom to shower.

"You'll come, right?" He asks as he walks around the room, picking up his clothes from the floor and putting them on.

"I don't know how long I'll be working," you honestly tell him.

He stops moving and sulks again, "You have to come!"

You softly laugh and sip your coffee before answering, "I may be late but I'll come, yes."

It's all he wants, he wants you to come no matter what but that's what you can promise him. His phone is buzzing again and you see that it's Lou.

You pick it up for him, "yes, he's putting on his shirt right now."

Lou laughs hearing your voice, "Hope the bed is alright."

"It's alright. I just have to wash the sheet," you jokingly say.

"Ugh!" He groans in disgust.

"Tell him I'm waiting outside," Lou adds.

"Okay, I'll tell him," you confirm and hang up the phone.

Hyunjin knows even before you say anything, but still, you tell him, "Lou is waiting."

You head downstairs, finishing your cup of coffee right on time as Hyunjin lands on the base of the stairs. You come running to hug him and he catches you on time.

"I'll be waiting for you," he says, pecking your lips after.

"I'll be late," you remind him again.

"That's okay," he says.

He kisses your lips again and not letting go until you're running out of breath.

"But know that I'll be waiting for you," he says with a playful glare.

You laugh and kiss him back, "Don't make Lou wait too long!"

With another long kiss on the lips and the last one on the top of your head, Hyunjin finally lets go with a smile on his face. And as much as you are reluctant to do the same, you slowly let him go, selflessly sharing him with the rest of the world.

-

The first thing Hyunjin hears by the time he steps into the green room is Han's whistle, eyes squinting at him with a malicious smile drawn on his face.

"Ooo... look at that glow on you, Hwang Hyunjin!" Han teases.

Hyunjin hates it when someone calls him by his full name and Han uses it exactly to annoy him. He picks up a towel from a stack provided on the desk and throws it at him.

"Shut up!"

That only amuses Han more as he's laughing on the sofa. Ignoring him, Hyunjin comes up to Felix who's having his lunch by himself.

Hyunjin picks a pack of lunch for him and sits next to him.

"She's coming tonight, right?" Felix asks.

Hyunjin puts down his chopsticks next to his lunch, "yes, but she has to do a job first so she'll be late," he explains.

Felix nods and continues eating, holding his phone in one hand as he scrolls down his social media.

There's something that should be said in this moment and Hyunjin knows what to say but doesn't know how to begin.

"Felix?"

He turns his head at him, "Yeah?"

Hyunjin scratches the back of his head, "I... uh... we're thankful that—"

Felix's deep laughter startles him, "Why thanking me? You're the one who successfully got her back."

That confuses Hyunjin too but he knows for sure that he has to thank Felix for encouraging him to fight for you.

Felix takes a sip of his water and swallows it, "I'm happy seeing my friends happy. That's enough for me."

Hyunjin scoffs and not in a sarcastic way. It just baffled him how there's someone as kindhearted as Felix existed in this world. When he thinks that Felix has done speaking, he turns at Hyunjin again, "But Hyunjin..."

"Yes?"

"If you ever had a change of heart," he says as he gazes into his eyes, "just kindly tell her."

Hyunjin nods.

"Don't hurt her," Felix finishes.

Hyunjin knows that behind that tender gaze, he's warning him that he's ready to go against him if he ever caught him breaking your heart.

Hyunjin thinks that you're lucky to have a friend like him which reminds him that he's just as lucky to have a precious friend. That inexplicably urges Hyunjin to protect him more because a person like Felix belongs in a fairytale, not in this cruel, cruel world.

-

"Come on! Come on!"

Lou hurries you to run and get to his pace as he leads the way to the stage. You're late and Lou can't leave his post too long, he's risking his job as we speak.

Learned from experience, you're slowing down when it comes to climbing the stairs in the dark since Lou doesn't have time to turn on the flashlight on his phone.

The band is in the middle of playing the song when you finally take the spot on the side of the stage and exchange a quick hug with Vin to finally enjoy the show.

It's certainly nostalgic to be there. A few things changed but some remain the same. It's bittersweet but you only want to focus on the latter part.

It's when the band finished the song, Hyunjin sees that you're here. He looks rather elated to see you, he wants to come but hesitates to do so.

You wave your hand at him instead and mouthed, "Told you I'm coming."

He foolishly smiles and eventually caves in, walking to the side of the stage, handing Lou his guitar before grabbing you by the waist and kissing you.

"Hi, you," he mutters.

"Hi," you say back then gets cut off as he kisses you again.

Lou, in an annoyed tone, says, "Okay, lovebird, time to get back to the stage."

You gently push him away as the band is about to play another song.

Hyunjin grabs his guitar back from Lou and slung the strap around his shoulder, "I love you," he mouthed.

You cup your hands around your mouth and mouth it back to him, "I love you."

Oblivious to the fact that Lou is witnessing everything and looking disgusted, horrified, not amused. You respond with what he always gives you, a nonchalant shrug.

Turn your attention elsewhere, you wave your hand at Felix as he's passionately drumming, busy using both hands and feet to keep the rhythm going.

"Felix, the greatest drummer in the world!" You shout at him, sending him grinning and almost losing his focus.

For the last song, Lou puts his arm around you to dance and jump together, ignoring your lungs burning from running out of air.

You cheer loudly as the band takes their final bow at the end of the show and gets ready to welcome them at the back of the stage.

A grin rises on your face at the sight of Felix, you come up to him and give him the hug when it's usually his job to do so.

"Why are you so cool, huh?" you aggressively ask while patting his back.

You keep hugging him, long enough until it emptied the emotions in your chest, "I am so proud of you!" You sincerely tell him.

He kisses your cheek, "Thank you, babe!"

Aware that someone else is waiting for his turn to hug you, Felix reluctantly lets you go. You see Hyunjin appears behind him, ignoring the exhaustion and sweat rolling down his face, he's slipping his hands under and holding you close.

"You're not going to say anything nice to me?" He asks.

You pretend to think and stalls from answering, "Uhm... no," you joke.

With his hand on the back of your head, he angles your head to kiss you again, deeper than before.

"You taste salty," you comment.

He looks down at his t-shirt soaked in sweat but instead of pulling away, he pulls your hands tighter around him, leaving you no option but to let his sweat seep into your clothes as well.

Hyunjin leans in to kiss you but someone holds him back from doing it, "It's my turn now," Han says.

Han looks at you, "I'm getting a kiss too, right?"

Hyunjin pushes him away and possessively puts his arm around you, "Not a chance!"

However Hyunjin can't linger around you for long and you sneak a kiss on Han's cheek when he's not looking, "There you go!"

Han is looking taken aback by the kiss as he touches his cheek, wide eyes and dazed.

Hyunjin turns around to take your hand, "Come, baby!"

You look over your shoulder at Han and gesture to him to zip his lips, keeping it a secret between you two.

Han confirmed with a wink shot at you.

You look down at your clasped hands and then at him as he brushes all of his hair to the back, "Hyunjin?"

He pulls you close to his side, "yes?"

"Does it mean I can have you for myself again?" You ask.

He smiles hearing that and nods, "I'm all yours now."

-

Felix may have not gotten his love but he surely gets his happiness, double, triple even.

He's happy to see you happy, to still have this precious friendship with you, and remains best of friends. A friend that he can always call in both good times and bad times. A friend he can freely be himself and not be afraid of being judged.

And as he looks at you sitting with Hyunjin, whispering words to each other, looking so in love and happy. He's happy about that too.

Happy that both of his friends found love and are happy with each other and he wishes it stays like that for a long, long time.

At last, Felix is happy for his band, especially after successfully finishing the tour. In this after-party, he can see that this happiness belongs to everyone who takes part in making each show happen.

It's happiness after happiness after happiness. His heart is overflowing with nothing but happiness.

What everyone doesn't know is that behind that happiness, there's that drop of pain.

Felix still needs time to finally let go of his love, it's not easy considering that his object of affection is always around him.

Even a drop, it still stings and constantly prickles at his heart.

Felix consoles himself with a glass of drink in his hand as he looks at the night sky, he likes to think that the crescent shape is the moon smiling down at him.

"What are you doing out here alone?" Lou asks, shattering the intimate moment Felix is having with the moon.

Felix sheepishly smiles, "nothing. Just drinking," he says, showing him the lukewarm whiskey in his glass.

Lou nods and stands next to him, also looking up at the night sky and looking at the same moon. A gust of cold wind blowing his way but Felix wants to stay here longer.

"It'll pass," Lou suddenly says.

That makes Felix's head turn, "Pardon?"

Lou looks at him and says it again, firmly this time.

"It'll pass."

Felix doesn't know he needed to hear it until he did and that inexplicably rejuvenated his spirit. An ending is an opportunity for another beginning.

"You're right," Felix agrees.

"Of course I'm right," Lou boldly remarks, holding out his drink at him.

Felix clinked his glass together with him for a toast, feeling eager to begin again.

As for Lou, he's finally standing right in front of him for the first time, seeing him eye to eye, perhaps, Felix can see him now and knows that he's been there all along.

-

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[lovelytsunoda]

foreign affair // charles leclerc

summary: it wasn't supposed to happen. but they say that the south of france is the most romantic place on the planet. so falling in love with her vacation fling should have been inevitable.

pairing: charles leclerc x female reader

warnings: vacation fling, allusions to sex, way too short but it is what it is, bittersweet and filled with longing.

a one in a million chance, you know the moment that you crossed over the line. a casual glance, no one has to read between the lines

in the south of france, it was spring time, special feelings come alive, "there's romance in the air, " so they say, love could be a small café

file it under foreign affairs

the hotel sheets were more expensive than what she made in a day.

this particular resort was divided in two: private villas for the rich and honeymooning, those with money to burn, and the hotel itself, where she was staying.

but they say that france is the country of love, a figure of speech that had proven to be very, very true.

“mon amour, you’re awake.” charles said softly, a towel wrapped around his still damp body, droplets running down his toned stomach as he leaned over the bed to kiss her lips. “I was trying to let you sleep in.”

“but it’s my last day.” she frowned, nipples springing to attention underneath the thin silk sheet wrapped around her body. “I want to be out there doing things.”

three weeks of holiday almost didn’t feel like enough. the trip had been a dream, all sun and sand until she met charles leclerc at the bar. she didn’t know who he was, which perhaps helped to build his attraction to her. and he never felt the need to say any more than “I’m an athlete” when asked what he did for a living.

she fell hard and she fell fast as he offered to be her tour guide. being from monaco and having french friends, charles knew his way around all of the best restaurants, sights and beaches.

it was no surprise that after just three days, finding herself tipsy on wine, she ended up naked in his hotel room, tangled in silk sheets.

“but you will be doing things.” charles smiled, leaning over the bed and pushing his lips against hers with an almost featherlight touch, water dripping onto the sheets. “you’re doing me.”

“you’re so bad.” she giggled, fumbling to throw his towel aside, raking her fingernails down his chest. “promise me you’ll make this last day one to remember?”

“oh, mon cher, i plan on it.”

they spent the morning exchanging kisses and orgasms in charles’ bed before she finally went back to her room, legs worse for wear and a little wobbly on her feet before she changed into her swimsuit and made her way to the resorts private beach. Charles had a standing rental for a cabana, so she settled in with her book and a glass of white wine.

the only way she would want to spend her last day: relaxing by the water.

charles had promised her that he had a surprise planned for the evening to come, and he had left to prepare it shortly after she got out of his shower. despite her attempts at getting the monegasque to give her any hints, the driver was silent about his plans.

“wear that tight red dress and those strapped sandals, and meet me in the valet lot.” was all that he had said in regards to the plans.

charles leclerc, european man of mystery everybody.

bags packed and by the door, ready for her early flight, she dressed in the red dress and sandals, curling her hair and spraying herself with bath and body works. sure enough, when she walked to the valet lot, charles was already waiting next to his Ferrari.

god, she was going to miss him.

the night was young as the sun began to set, hands sticking out of the sunroof and wind blowing her hit round her face as charles drove up the coast, the south of france lit up in the half light.

“can you tell me where we’re going yet?” she giggled, eyes closed as charles lead her though a parking lot.

“hang on, hang on, amour. almost there.”

she could feel the floor moving gently underneath her feet as she let charles guide her body, listening to his calming voice when he finally told her to open her eyes.

“oh, charles.”

she was standing on the middle of a large boat, the sun setting over the water and a picnic blanket set up in the middle of the deck as the vessel rocked back and forth in the harbour, the smell of the saltwater filling her nostrils as charles lit the tall candles that were set up around the picnic.

“one last night to remember?”

she smiled, joining him on the blanket as he popped open a bottle of red wine. “one last night to remember. I’ll miss you, leclerc. thank you for making the last three weeks one for the record books.”

charles smiled sadly, still looking like a greek god even with longing etched on his features.

“to the last three weeks, and to what could have been.”

TAGS;

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @scuderiamh @scuderiasundays @silverstonesainz @diorleclerc @daydreamingleclerc @sidcrosbyspuck @lorarri @thatsdemko @oconso

[twopoppies]

Gina, have you seen the article about Hs workout routine for LOT? I mean, we all saw the results… but I find it almost even more impressive to learn how its been done! His dedication and work ethic is so inspiring and surely part of why I adore him so much 🫠🫶

Holy hell. No wonder he’s in such great shape. Just a note that Thibo David was his old trainer with Live On Tour. I assume Brad Gould was his new trainer for Love on Tour. But I doubt his regimen was any less insane.

[…]

If you include the one-mile run and bodyweight challenge, this is the hardest warm-up I’ve ever done, but, given the intensity required for the next two elements I’m promoting them to workout status.

[…]

David says Harry Styles can run a mile in an impressive 5min 13sec—a standard some of the professional athletes David coaches can’t match—but I was urged to run my own race.

[…]

This was far closer to my wheelhouse as a CrossFit fan. I chose to tackle it in alternating sets of 10, transitioning quickly between exercises to finish within the eight-minute limit. But even commando rolling from push-up to sit-up then springing into the squats left me little time to spare.

[…]

I took 7min 39sec, and, somewhat unexpectedly, given I can barbell squat more than 300lb, it was my quads that blew up the most. Whether this was the result of the one-mile run before it or heavy front squats the day before, I couldn’t say, but my thighs were on fire by the final rep.

“I like to say that I train very smart, but you also have to be very stupid sometimes, you know? Do this type of workout in the most stupid way; go hard at the task at hand, like when you throw a ball for a dog and it goes super crazy.

“This is a very good workout for that. Very good at building everything that needs to be added after the aerobic base; aggressiveness, speed, that go-hard mentality.”

[…]

Things did become particularly spicy during round three and four though, as my body began to tire with the sustained effort.

My posterior chain (the muscles running along the back side of the body) took a battering from the kettlebell swings and sandbag-over-shoulders, my already-fried legs felt heavy during the box jumps, and my shoulders grew tired from two minutes of straight clean and presses—it was a serious test of muscular endurance.

[…] I also did 12 total rounds—I wanted the full Styles experience, after all—but I’d live to regret this. The hill I chose grew progressively steeper as I worked my way up it, and by the eighth round I felt like death. My sprints turned to slogs, and the time it took me to complete the distance I established in the first interval grew longer.

[…] The prior running and box jumps didn’t help either, but I got it done eventually in less than 30 minutes.

[…]

This was a relaxing way to wrap up a far from relaxing morning of training, and gave me a second to catch my breath after a monumental effort which lasted a little over two hours.

I swapped his day of training for one of my usual CrossFit sessions and had a lot of fun doing it. Every part of my body felt like it had been put through the ringer thanks to the muscle-burning circuit and lung-taxing running elements. I was also very, very hungry.

Another thing that impressed me was Styles’ evident fitness levels and work ethic; how he has the energy to perform for two hours during a stadium tour is no longer a mystery.

Another thing I liked about my chat with David was his openness and honesty. I often see articles online saying celebrities do a few Pilates classes or HIIT workouts each week to stay in unbelievable shape, and he was keen to dispel this myth.

“Collaborating with Harry Styles was an absolute delight; his commitment is unparalleled,” says David.

“But it’s important to note that this level of training isn’t suitable for everyone. Harry was inherently fit, but achieving the level of fitness needed for this session still required time, work and effort. Rushing into such high-volume workouts can pose risks.”

David also stressed that sessions of this intensity weren’t done every day, and the nature of his workouts will often “depend on the day and the state of the athlete”.

“It’s crucial to emphasize the significance of proper periodization,” says David. “Not every day constituted an intense session. In fact, we strategically incorporated recovery sessions which often involved a light run combined with core exercises and mobility work. Every workout was thoughtfully placed within the overall training plan.”

Read, full article here

x

[flowerwrites06]

l'amour de ma vie — myg

L'AMOUR DE MA VIE | Love of my Life | Requested by anon.

Plot: Insecurities pile up in Yoongi's marriage after months of distance and neglect. Pairing: Pianist!Yoongi x Ballet Teacher!OC (Name: Kiku) Genre: Music & Ballet | Marriage on the Rocks Type: One-shot Rating: 18+ Word Count: 4.6k+ Warnings: marital insecurities, unintentional neglect, jealousy, mentions of divorce, mild mentions of injury from ballet, explicit sexual content (rough sex, unprotected sex, squirting). Author’s Note: new one-shot, friends! i really hope you enjoy this one, I loved writing it! be sure to let me know what you think!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! Send your ideas in by August 1st before it closes!

Yoongi was a serious man. Kiku knew this well in the years she knew him. Their marriage didn’t flourish like fresh romances with many kisses and open affection but quiet trust helped their relationship stand strong.

When the doors closed, Yoongi often made up for his silence with soft kisses on her skin, calloused finger pads running down her neck and sneaking in between her core until she soaked the sheets.

However, things changed as the concerts began to pile up. When they were touring together as equal performers, Yoongi was active in ensuring that she heard compliments whispered in her ear. That he stared her way when she was on stage and she would sneak a look back whenever able.

Now Kiku wasn’t an equal performer and Yoongi’s attention on her was. . .low. Though Kiku understood why. It was concert season. Of course. That’s the only reason.

Of course, Yoongi was active and his face brightened like stars when he performed but lost the light in his eyes when he looked at her. It was exhaustion. It must’ve been. He would tell her if something was wrong.

Tonight was the same as the previous nights for. . .how long had it been? Two months, maybe three. Yoongi thrilled the audience with his performance, fingers dancing over the ivory keys like they were an extension of his own digits. Like the music was the air he breathed, exuding out of him. Kiku found it deliciously mesmerizing.

The audience roared with applause as the performance ended.

Yoongi bowed to the crowd, roses thrown his way before he walked backstage. Sweat slick on his forehead, pearling at the jawline. His grin disappeared immediately when he reached here. Kiku felt the weight of the lost smile but she leaned in and kissed his cheek anyway to congratulate him.

Yoongi barely leaned into it and rushed to change his clothes.

It was just exhaustion. Just exhaustion. Nothing more.

***

Today turned for the better. At least Kiku hoped as Yoongi received his first free day away from practices or concerts so he can enjoy the Italian sights for a while. The day was beautiful indeed, sun blazing gold amongst the sandstone buildings and flowers beds at the cafes burst in vibrant colour.

Kiku even wore her favourite silk corset dress with a thin cardigan over top for the spring breeze. Her black waves reached down to the small of her back and her enthusiasm thrumming to excitement. She felt as if she was waiting for a first date.

Yoongi finally entered the living room, wearing a white shirt and trousers.

“Did you want to go out to a café today?” Kiku asked, her voice kept soft and sweet. “It’s a beautiful day.”

Yoongi barely looked her way. “I have a small meeting with the producer. He wants some changes to the later performances,” he said. His tone was rushed and serious. As always. Everytime he began thinking of work, that was his tone.

Kiku knew this and she told herself this the moment her heart started squeezing unbearably. “When will you be back? Maybe we can go later.”

“I’m not sure. You can go by yourself and enjoy,” Yoongi said before rushing out without waiting for a response.

Breathing through the aches in her chest, Kiku did pick herself up and enjoy Italy. It was concert season. It was concert season. Everything will be back to normal once they’re home. It’ll be fine.

***

France was the next destination. This time, Kiku was invited to a ballet studio in Paris to teach some classes and have a studio room of her own to practice if she needed. It kept her distracted. Italy emptied Kiku and even the plane ride to France was Yoongi discussing things with his producer, Minho while she sat alone in her corner.

The dance studio brought her full of life again, the golden vines consuming the marble building like a living organism. The varnished wood floors, silk shoes and flowing dresses that returned Kiku to past days. To. . .happier days, she thought with a pain inside her.

Kiku and Yoongi fell in love during a different France tour years ago. Kiku was a prima ballerina in her early twenties. Lovely and enchanting, they called her. Yoongi played all her songs for her, watching her every move as if catering to her own movements and not the choreography itself. There was an intimacy behind that cohesion, that connection that not even six years of marriage managed to create. Perhaps that was a bad thought to have. To romanticise the first year of love as opposed to the commitment they were in now.

She should be happier now. She was happy. Happy, yes.

Was Yoongi happy? Was he happy that he watched her perform? Was it okay that Kiku was no longer that prima ballerina? She was no longer quite as lovely or enchanting.

Kiku danced every now and then but after an injury, her doctor encouraged her not to do performances like she used to. Otherwise it may lead to permanent damage. Yoongi supported her through her strained muscles, helping her through her exercises and reassuring her. But perhaps Yoongi didn’t plan on needing to take care of her. Perhaps the thought of her never being that ballerina again dawned on him and he grew distant.

No, it was silly. Silly to think it so. They were happy. Happy. Happy.

***

Kiku made her way to the stadium where Yoongi had his practice and performance later in the night. She brought fresh food from a nearby café with a small spring in her step. Sweet notes of the piano echoed in her ears. Even the tonality and energy of the notes made her know that it was Yoongi. It gave her both this nostalgia and fresh nuance of something new, like a first kiss or a sneaky touch on the back of her hand.

Kiku smiled at the people backstage, placing the food on the table.

“This’ll be good for the newer performances,” she heard Minho say as they looked out to the stage.

Kiku followed their gaze and saw the new addition. The reason why Minho wanted to have so many meetings. A young ballerina was on the stage, dancing freely to the notes played by Yoongi.

Her grin was bright and energetic, understanding completely the importance of her performance carried out. Lovely and enchanting.

Kiku knew it was normal for pianists to do this. To have different performances showcase creativity and enthusiasm. But the sight of it felt like stones crushing her slowly. It was normal for this to happen, she told herself. Yet Kiku felt it deep in her heart, deep in her gut, this unbearable pain when the reality sank in.

Kiku didn’t belong to his world anymore.

She was a wife who tried to be part of his world but not in his world.

Perhaps Yoongi knew this and stayed silent to protect her feelings. He never liked confrontation. Or it just didn’t matter and he would get rid of her after the tour.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Minho asked. “Back to his roots?”

Kiku attempted a smile as she always did. Attempting a smile. Maintaining an energy to make sure everyone else felt good. To make sure Yoongi felt good, without burden.

“I’m feeling a bit unwell,” Kiku said. “I’ll be going home.”

“Don’t you want to wait until he finishes?” Minho asked, confused. Kiku never left once she got to Yoongi’s practice, not even when she was sick.

How silly she was. Constantly leering at the edges of a place she didn’t belong to anymore. Trying to squeeze into a place in Yoongi’s heart that was probably getting smaller and smaller. He had no time for her. Kiku couldn’t force him.

Oh, the thought of it burned her eyes. Her stomach felt like it was singed.

Frustration pricked at her. “I’ll talk to him when he gets home.” She lied. He’ll be fine without me.

***

Yoongi adored having more performances linked to his piano pieces. While he enjoyed having his solo acts, it was nice to be in the background for a moment and allow for his music to be interconnected with dance or a story. The exhaustion and boredom that begun to linger in the past performances rejuvenated back into a sense of excitement. At least the final shows of the tour were something of energy and new light.

The ballerina bowed elegantly after the practice performance. Yoongi returned backstage with his heart pumping through his ribcages at asking Kiku whether she liked the new addition. She had grown a bit quiet towards the end of the Italy leg. Perhaps seeing some of her own art showcased on stage would bring her spirits up.

Except Kiku wasn’t there.

“Did Kiku not come yet?” Yoongi asked before gulping a bottle of water.

Minho, his producer, shrugged. “She said she felt unwell. But you have food.” He gestured to the apricot pastry, sandwich and coffee on the table.

Yoongi was used to having Kiku sit there with him as he ate or eat with him. Having the chair next to him empty felt cold and unwelcoming. She must’ve been really sick. “I can go early to check on her.”

Minho hummed. “I mean you can but it’d be safe to do another practice run.”

Yoongi stared at the empty chair for a while. Maybe she was asleep and he would only be disturbing. Besides, he had a few shows left. Might as well get it all out of the way.

***

Night already fell into a deep dark abyss by the time Yoongi was done with practice. He wanted to come back home in the afternoon but he got distracted at work. It was a habit of his, long rotting inside him yet hard to rip away. Moonlight painted their hotel room in a pale silver before Yoongi turned the light on for a splash of warm apricot light against the crème couches and opulent lamps.

“Kiku?” Yoongi asked.

There was no response for longer than Yoongi was comfortable.

But then Kiku walked through the bedroom door, wearing a soft cotton lace nightdress with her hair, a little messy from a nap. Her eyes were soft and glossed, her cheeks sweet and a little puffed. Kiku didn’t move from her spot, looking at him carefully.

A small part of Yoongi’s body had gotten prepared for her to walk to him and kiss him on the cheek. A more selfish part of him expected her to wait for him because she always did, even when she was sniffling from sickness. “You weren’t feeling well?”

Kiku stared at him, as if confused by Yoongi’s concern like it was foreign to her. Yoongi hadn’t seen that look on her face and something about it hurt her. “I’m feeling better,” she said softly.

“Is it your legs?” Yoongi asked, a little more careful this time.

Kiku still looked at him like that. Like Yoongi hadn’t spoken to her of such intimacy in a long time.

Well. . .he didn’t, did he? When was the last time Yoongi asked her if she ate well? Or slept well? Or even how she was? Yoongi tried his best to remember. He must’ve had asked her how she was this morning. Or kissed her. But he couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember the last time he had any conversation with her.

“I’m alright, Yoongi,” Kiku said. “Get some rest, it’s okay.”

Yoongi wanted to argue that he could give her a massage or help her get better but Kiku already walked back into the room. Without a smile or a kiss. The air grew cold again and Yoongi worried that his habits may have touched a nerve too delicate for his own good.

***

“An extension?” Yoongi had a single finger tapping softly on a D note, not pressing it for sound but thinking as Minho announced that he wanted to have a few more weeks of shows. “The tour has already gone on for months. We all need rest.”

Minho hummed, waving his hand. “You can rest later. This’ll be good for your career.”

It would be. Especially with ballet studios from France wishing to administer their own ballerinas into the mix, it would be so good for his career. But a shadow loomed over him. Kiku’s distance wasn’t going unnoticed by Yoongi. She hadn’t been to any of his practices since that day and it had been a week already.

Kiku wasn’t sick anymore. Something else was wrong.

“Kiku and I’s anniversary is in two weeks. I don’t want to be busy in a concert during that time, we’ve never worked on anniversaries.” Yoongi shook his head. He remembered how she worked around her training schedules to ensure that their anniversary was always free. Something was already wrong and for Yoongi to break a tradition along with it was stupid.

“Well, Kiku can come along with you.” Minho smiled. “She can even train the ballerinas herself, she’s a qualified teacher. Spend your anniversary in Paris.”

Yoongi could try to get a free day during the tour again. He had a free day in Italy, which he used to have a work meeting. Maybe this time, they could explore France. “Alright, I’ll talk to her.”

***

Kiku was at a ballet studio, Yoongi was told. Not by Kiku but the hotel receptionist who was asked to send a message if Yoongi tried to look for her. Kiku always texted him directly if she wanted to communicate something but they’ve resorted to this now, he supposed. Yoongi made his way to the ballet studio, the smell of wood and perfume wafting in the air as he walked up the stairs to the top level practice area.

Kiku was there, wearing a flowy white skirt, transparent, crème with a black top. Her hair was open as she always kept it when practicing dances on her own. Even after the injury, her every move was precise, the pointe of her toes like an ethereal being and her form like a swan.

Yoongi remembered watching her all day. He had become so used to her presence, close to him like his own extension. After all this distance, he was once again the humble pianist watching a prima ballerina conjuring magic with her dance.

Dark, pretty eyes flickered to him then and Kiku stopped, her expression neutral again.

Yoongi tried to push down the squeeze in his chest. He wanted her to smile at him again, to rush to him and kiss him. But she stood there, distant and unmoving. “I—Minho wants to extend the tour.” He wanted to make a more personal introduction but the room turned cold so quickly, he couldn’t muster the right tender words.

Kiku stared at him, a twitch in her eye. So she was uncomfortable. “It’s alright. It’s good for your career.”

Now she was keeping her feelings hidden from him.

Hurt turned to a flash of frustration. “You weren’t at the practice.”

“I figured you didn’t need me hovering over you all the time,” Kiku said plainly.

“You’re my wife, I want you there.”

“Well, you haven’t exactly been doing a good job at showing it.”

Ah. His bad habit. Still rotting inside him and now it was rotting at the seams of his marriage. Kiku’s neutral expression flashed with truth now, making Yoongi wish she was hiding it again. It wasn’t anger. Not really. It was deep hurt and helplessness. “Kiku.” His voice was meek. It made him feel stupider that he realized it immediately yet too late.

The hurt solidified behind Kiku’s expression.

“I wasn’t doing it on purpose, I was—”

“Busy, I know. Believe me, it was the only word I’ve hinged on to. . .gain strength.” Kiku let out a long sigh, soft and weary and slow.

Yoongi knew it was to hide her voice shaking as her eyes turned glossier. He hated it. Hated that he was the reason. Hated that he didn’t even know it because he never felt he had to. Kiku always had herself put together, always a sturdy foundation. So much so that Yoongi grew too lax. Too careless. And now it was coming back to haunt him in the flesh.

“You can continue the tour without me,” Kiku said.

“No.”

“It’s stupid to cancel the tour on my accord. You’ve come this far.” She shook her head.

“I am not leaving you.” Yoongi’s voice raised a little, desperate and pleading. “Kiku. I wanted you to be with me, spend our anniversary in France.”

“I don’t want to be in France.” Kiku’s throat bobbed up and down. “It reminds me too much of what I’m not anymore. Of what I can’t be.”

“What do you mean?” Yoongi asked.

“I’m not the wonderful ballerina I used to be,” Kiku whispered. “People look straight through me and it never bothered me but now. . .you do too.”

Yoongi’s heart dropped. “Kiku, I never. . .I don’t care if you’re a ballerina or not, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“It doesn’t matter to you because you can always put a new one on stage.” Her voice cracked then, unable to hold herself together. “I can’t find some other person who will think I’m worth keeping.”

“I’m keeping you,” Yoongi argued. “I know I’ve been wrong to distance myself from you but that will never change the fact that you’re mine. And I’m yours. All of it, always.”

Kiku stayed silent, finally letting out a shaky sigh. It was that slightest glimpse of vulnerability that gave Yoongi hope. The wall wasn’t cement, it was a curtain still, giving him to room to walk closer so he could catch the faint waft of a tea and jasmine in her aura.

Yoongi held onto her fingers gently at first. He waited for her to slowly curl and clasp back, giving him another chance to walk even closer. His hand reached up her arm, cupping her cheeks and kissed her. A fire roared inside him, feeling her warm kiss back again. It had been too long. Feeling the soft strands of her hair through his fingers, the taste of her and her warmth pressed against him soared through him with sweetness.

Yoongi leaned Kiku against the barre, lifting her enough to rest against her back against the mirror. Yoongi kissed her neck, suckled on the softest part of her skin and bit into it. The slight ache on her skin awakened her nerves.

Kiku ran her fingers through his hair, tugged at the scalp to ground her to reality. That this wasn’t a dream but her own beloved husband, tasting her skin after so long. Her hips desperately rubbed against the bulge forming on his pants, the weight of her body already pressing down against the barre but she didn’t care.

Kiku snuck her hand in between them, rubbing his hardened bulge before unbuttoning his pants. Her fingers wrapped gently around his thick member, twitching against the soft skin of her palm. Her index traced up the angry vein, teasing the slick tip until he let out a moan against her collarbone.

Yoongi lifted to look at her. Kiku smiled and sucked his arousal off her index, keeping her dark lust-blown eyes fixed on him. Yoongi gripped onto her jaw, pushing her cheeks in until her lips protruded. He kissed her again, harder this time as he reached under her skirt and ripped her thin panties, the delicate cloth soaked in her own arousal.

Kiku laughed, drunk with lust as she grabbed onto Yoongis length and aimed it at her sodden cunt. Time showed in the way Kiku felt so snug. She let out a small shaky whimper as if Yoongi entered her for the first time. Kiku gripped onto the barre as Yoongi gently pushed through the tightness, letting her adjust to him again.

Kiku grazed her nails against the fabric of his shirt, yanking off the buttons so her fingertips could trace his skin. She let out a pleased sigh as his entire length sunk inside her, his body flush against hers until they were one.

“I love you,” Yoongi whispered.

Kiku let out a small whimper, forehead pressed against his as tears burned in her eyes. Both an overwhelming flash of love and pleasure soared through her deliciously. “I love you too.”

As the declaration left her sweet lips, Yoongi began to thrust into her. Slow at first, ensuring that she felt the tip of him at her cervix and every ridge inside her remembered him sliding out. She dripped with arousal, making the wooden barre glisten. Yoongis hips moved faster, pistoning in a pattern that maddened Kiku.

Yoongi pulled at the sleeves of her top, sneaking it down until her nipples popped from their covering. The cold air of the ballet studio made them erect. Yoongi leaned and wrapped his lips around one of them, lapping his tongue on the tip until he felt her clench around his cock.

Kiku threw her head back against the mirror before kissing his temple. Yoongi was patient in his attention, moving to her right nipple and giving it the same love. Such affection. His pace quickened as her pleasure began to swell to its limit.

Yoongi gripped onto the back of her thighs, locking her against the wall and pounding into her. Without mercy and with the most delicious desperation that forced a string of moans out of Kiku. Never had she felt so free to let out all the noises she wanted.

His thrusts got harsher, her wet cunt slammed over and over again until even the barre began to squeak under the pressure. Then he paused suddenly with a pant. Kiku let out a choked scream as Yoongi buried himself deep, shaping himself inside her and carrying her off the barre. Kiku spewed another whimper, muffled against his shirt.

Yoongi let out an excited breath as he placed her shaking feet on the floor. Turned Kiku around and had her face her flushed, tear-stained and pleased expression in the mirror. Her hair had turned dishevelled, the front strand matted to her forehead. Yoongi gently placed his fingers over her neck, nose buried in her hair, the lovely scent of jasmine and her sweet arousal suffusing the air. “You’re mine. My love.” He whispered.

Kiku smiled, swaying her hips before he started pushing himself in again. This time much easier, wet and welcoming. “I’m yours.” She caressed his sweat slick cheek. “Yours. All yours.”

Yoongi hummed, thrusting into her again. Deep and hard. Each thrust felt like a shake through her whole body, making the memory of him linger until she dreamt about it days later. “Am I yours?”

Kiku let out a soft chuckle. “You’re mine.” Another rough thrust had her nearly sobbing as it hit her sensitive spot. He still knew where it was.

Yoongi panted, using her noise to thrust in that same position. Kiku bent over against the barre with a whimper, her knees nearly buckling but still wanting more. “Does it feel good, baby?”

Kiku stammered a response as he fucked into her again, her lower belly felt full, ready to roll over the edge. Yoongi pistoned into her ensuring that the same spot touched again and again. “Feels good, baby, don’t stop.” She cried out.

Yoongi groaned, leaning in and sneaking one of his hands between her legs. His calloused fingers rubbed her clit as his own orgasm rushed to the edge. “I’m gonna cum.”

Kiku let out a trembling breath, gripping on his forearm as her lower belly. Begging to release. “Cum inside me.” She turned her head and kissed his cheek. Then the coil sprung. Spurts of sweet nectar had her whimpering, a light choked scream as a light gush splashed on the floor.

Yoongi panted as his orgasm burst into madness, thick and warm as it filled Kiku’s womb. Messy and beautiful. Their thighs slick with the most wonderful arousal as he held his love in his hands, most of her weight rested on his grip as she trembled through her high. “Fuck, I missed you.”

Kiku chuckled, the tingles of ecstasy flooding through her like a blind bliss. “I missed you too,” she whispered, touching his cheek again. “Don’t be away from me.”

“Never. Never again.” And Yoongi held to that promise just as he held her. He would never let this go again.

***

Minho never hid his disappointments when it came to him. Except Yoongi wasn’t quite the same as all his other rookie musicians, who would fall back in line once they saw the displeased purse of his lips. “It would’ve been good for your career. Your wife should understand that much, she’s done the same with her career.’

“Kiku made her career without sacrificing time in our marriage,” Yoongi said. “I should be held to that same standard.”

Minho hummed, raising his hands in defense. “I mean if that’s what you want.”

“You did want to go to Greece for another tour so if that’s in the cards.” Yoongi already expected the sudden brightness in Minho’s face. He didn’t like disappointment but he did like something to do. Perhaps preparing for a future tour in Greece would allow for Yoongi to spend more time with Kiku.

Minho clapped his hands. “Greece and a few more dates in Japan as well. Kiku’s home country, that could make her happy.” He waved his hands, smiling to himself as if he wasn’t just ready to have a tantrum a few minutes ago. “Enjoy your anniversary.”

Yoongi smiled, feeling a wave of relief that he was appeased. No more tour dates anytime soon. Which meant he could go home when the sun was high in the sky and he had comfort waiting for him at home.

***

They took a plane back to their apartment in Korea the next day. The familiar dark wood, ferns and home-grown lettuce were well-tended to by their friends while they were gone. Kiku recognized the smell was different after a few months. Sadness pricked at her but it was bittersweet, not all bad. She was home again.

Kiku and Yoongi made dinner together to revive the smell of home. Warm rice soup, spinach salad, fresh steamed rice and spiced mapo tofu to fill their bellies.

“I’m thinking of opening a ballet studio,” Kiku said.

Yoongi’s brows raised mid-chew. “You want to teach?”

Kiku nodded with a smile. “I still want to dance and the doctor said just not to do performances. So teaching.”

“If you want a part-time piano player, I’m free.” Yoongi grinned.

“Without an interview?” Kiku frowned playfully. “My ballet studio would have more standards than that.”

“I mean I am sleeping with the owner, you could pull a few strings.” Yoongi shrugged.

Kiku’s lips parted in slight shock. “That’s highly inappropriate. You would have to show me your talents.”

As they put away the dishes for their lunch, Yoongi walked over to the grand piano perched on the space between the kitchen and living room. He reached out to his work bag and pulled out a few pieces of paper with hand-written music notes.

Yoongi played with the ease of breathing as he always did, except this music was the softest it had ever sounded. Delicate and sweet. Even the way his fingers moved on the keys were floating like a swan. A ballerina.

Kiku padded over to the piano, stood behind him and leaned her chin against his shoulder. She peered over the title and saw L’amour de me Vie. Love of my Life. Her heart burst with joy as she rested against the crook of his neck. “Who’s it about?”

Yoongi laughed, playing softer. “Depends, do I get the job?”

Kiku smiled and kissed his cheek. “Fine. You’re hired.”

“Then it’s you,” Yoongi said, smirking. It will always be you. 

masterlist

[growingstories]

Après ski

Axel, beloved the son of a wealthy farmer in Austria, grew up with a natural talent for skiing. During the winter months, their land was transformed into a thriving ski resort. His parents, also ran a renowned ski school, ensured that Axel received the best training and opportunities in the sport.

From a young age, Axel excelled on the slopes, becoming the best skier in the village. His skills took him beyond the local competitions, and he even won the country ski cup and had the honor of competing in the Olympics. However, despite his success, Axel felt the need for a different path and started uni.

After a few seasons as a ski instructor, Axel stumbled upon the world of apres ski. The parents of kids he taught in his premium class were so appreciative of his coaching that they often showered him with gifts, such as bottles of champagne and warm gluhwine. During the day, he would ski off the excess indulgence, staying in incredible shape.

During the spring and summer, Axel hit the gym to maintain his fitness, eager to make the most of the upcoming winter season. He was determined to balance his love for skiing with his newfound enjoyment of the apres ski lifestyle.

However, as the next winter season arrived, the apres ski scene had transformed into a series of binge drinking events and extravagant dinners, all funded by rich parents. Axel found himself irresistibly drawn to the vibrant party atmosphere, indulging in a carefree lifestyle. He would pick up girls at the bar and enjoy passionate encounters every evening.

Unfortunately, the lavish lifestyle came at a cost. Axel began to gain weight rapidly, and by the end of the second season, he had struggled to shed the excess pounds fast enough for the upcoming winter. Even before Christmas approached, he could feel his weight creeping up due to all the festive celebrations in the village.

Regardless of the strain on his uniform, Axel continued to party unabated during the winter season. His weight continued to spiral out of control, pushing the limits of his once perfect physique. At times he attempted to go to the gym, but the physical exertion proved more difficult now with his increasing size.

As the third ski season loomed, Axel's parents presented him with an ultimatum – lose weight or lose his place in the premium ski class. Failing to shed the extra pounds, he was demoted to being an instructor for a regular group. While a less exciting prospect, the change allowed Axel to indulge in his love for ski instruction while partying and feasting without restraint.

The following summer, Axel didn't even bother trying to lose weight. He lounged in the sun by the pool, enjoying endless amounts of food and drink, blissfully unconcerned about his expanding waistline.

By the fourth winter season, Axel had grown to the point where he needed the biggest uniform available. His parents assigned him to a group of adult skiers who preferred leisurely tours and relaxing on terraces. The entire season revolved around indulgent lunches, lively apres ski evenings, and lavish dinners. His focus was no longer on skiing but on consuming as much food and drink as possible.

Throughout the summer, Axel's weight continued to increase, with no sign of slowing down.

The fifth winter season proved to be the most challenging for Axel. His parents entrusted him with a beginners group, which proved embarrassing but ultimately beneficial. With his weight hindering his movement, making tours became incredibly difficult. Despite his struggle, Axel continued to gain weight, trapped in a cycle of inactivity and overeating.

By the sixth season, Axel had become so obese that his parents had to commission a tailored jacket for him, as the largest size available no longer fit. longer No able to ski or instruct due to his weight, he stationed was at the cash register instead. It was a monotonous role, but one that allowed him to continue eating his beloved chocolate without restraint Swiss.

Despite no longer being an instructor, Axel remained the star of the apres ski scene. He reveled in the constant flow of free food and drinks, relishing the attention ad andoration he received from fellow partygoers. Even with his limitations, everyone still knew and revered the once legendary skier turned apres ski enthusiast, Axel.

[nqmonarch]

Dream AU Part 2

Characters: Lynx, Serval, and momentary appearance by Gepard (a very short guest appearance)

Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/nqmonarch/746989980179660800/dream-au-brainrot?source=share

Night began to fall on Jarilo-VI and you had lost feeling in all of your body. You figured if you could die in your dreams then you'd already be dead, but you'd been wandering for what seemed like forever... Until you finally saw another sign of human life, fire. You walked toward the fire like it was your last hope, yet couldn't help but freeze when you saw the figure by it.

Lynx was bundled up nicely, blonde hair peaking out of her hat, and food in her hand. From what you know Lynx she was rather introverted, and although you were sure that she was kind you couldn't help but feel some trepidation in approaching her. As if that one action would lead to her despising you forever.

The snow crunched under your feet as you approached, "Excuse me?" You called out and you noticed her slowly turn over to her, she was languid in her movements.

She looked at you quizzically, "...Can I help you?"

You perked up at her words, nodding, as you took a few steps closer, "I was wondering if I could stay warm by your fire? I've been wandering out here for a while."

"Hm...? Yeah, sure," She then turned her head away from you and turned back to staring at the sky.

As you sat next to the fire, basking in the warmth of it you followed her line of sight and, an aurora, how beautiful. You didn't bother to make conversation, knowing it wasn't something Lynx typically did with people, and instead admired the lights. The warmth was nice but it felt burning against your frozen skin. Lynx at times snuck glances at you, curious about exactly what kind of person would be outside of Belobog seemingly unprepared for its cold and harsh climate.

You raised your hand to the sky, tracing the patterns the aurora left behind. The gleaming lights resembled a whale, and the moment you thought that they shifted a bit and filled out the form of the whale you were imagining.

"What are you doing out here?" Lynx's words were blunt and quick to the point, not wanting to spend any time doing small talk.

You let out a small hum, "This and that, it just happened. Y'know?" She looked at you a bit exasperated but didn't push any further.

The silence between you two was comfortable and as stars began to take the sky, she began to point of some constellations. Despite your odd appearance you felt strangely familiar leaving Lynx to feel at ease with you, to the point of offering you a place to sleep which you gladly accepted. You'd slept before in dreams, it was always an interesting sensation, oftentimes you'd experience memories of previous dreams.

That night though you just dreamed of staring at at many teal pools with marble looking stone as their outline. Trees with leaves of gold and amber watched over the pools, and you were dimly aware of a presence behind you. It was better to reminisce upon the good times of that place than the bad ones, so you remained there spending hours just watching how the water moves.

You woke up still in the chilly landscape of Jarilo-VI. Lynx had offered to return back to Belobog and give you an impromptu tour. It was partially out of her worry for the strange person that appeared in the snow and partially out of curiosity. She was even willing to reach out to her brother to see if he knew who you were.

The city was warmer than you expected, the heaters keeping it the temperature of a warm spring day. The type of spring day that was best suited by the occasional breeze, and a sky with a few clouds. Belobog though was no stranger to such winds, except each gust of wind that hit you brought in cold air from the outside immediately removing any concern you had of how warm the town was.

Lynx had, first, deciding to bring you over to Serval's workshop as she had to catch up with Serval anyway. Neverwinter workshop was a quaint place, whose only sound was that of clocks ticking. Their were small trinkets laid upon the counter when you walked in and their were so many different inventions being showcased you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. Until your intention was drawn to the woman in the middle.

Long blonde hair with a blue streak and an outfit like a rockstar. "Serval!" You called out almost instinctively smiling.

"You know her?" Lynx asked, of course most people in Belobog did but given your strange behavior, outfit, and where you'd appeared Lynx thought you may've been one of those people who were rumored to come from the sky. Although, she supposed that must just be a myth, she had hoped it was true.

"Who doesn't?" You replied. Serval was a character that didn't get enough screentime or love in your humble opinion. She was a kickass older sister who was willing to stand up for what she believed to be right! And she was also just... so cool!

Even though it was a dream it couldn't hurt to get her autograph right? You skipped over to the rockstar and now, at a closer distance, were truly able to admire her teal blue eyes which were framed perfectly by her long lashes. She was simply breath taking. You were more than lucky to have already met such beautiful characters! Nanook, Lynx, and now Serval! It was a shame your memories of their looks would become slightly blurry once you woke up, the game didn't give them their full justice.

"Can I have your autograph?" You practically begged, excitement seeping into your voice and making it higher. The only problem was you didn't have any paper.

Serval smiled at you-- she smiled at you! You could die happy now. "Of course," and she said yes, you truly were beyond blessed man you'd have to hear her sing another time but... you probably had to wake up soon it felt like you'd been dreaming for a while. Serval cocked her head toward Lynx, "You make a new friend Lynxy?"

Lynx stepped forward to the two of you, some snow on her jacket still melting, "Not really, it's... complicated." She looked at you, as if expecting you to explain.

You perked up about to begin explaining the story of how the two of you met, but then the door opened and a cool low voice called out, "Serval, you need to-- Lynx?" The third and final Landau walked through the door, Gepard was even more beautiful in person as well.

Man, you got to meet all three of the Landaus! Wasn't that lucky? Due to their different jobs they didn't meet together all that much, you remembered. A sharp piercing noise, your alarm, split through your brain, talk about bad timing. Just when you got to meet Gepard, plus you didn't even get your autograph yet!

"Sorry, I have to head out now," You quickly interrupted thinking it would be impolite to leave, even if they were just part of your dream, without saying goodbye. And with that you returned to the waking, much more warm, world. Your blankets were pretty comfortable, you really didn't want to leave them.

Lynx had turned over to look at you, confused at your words and whether or not you were a wanted criminal, but when she did so all she saw was nothing. And when Serval and Gepard also saw the person in front of them disappear in the blink of their eye they were both stumped.

ugh I wanna write more Nanook they're so like babygirl in this AU will prob mention them in part 3 but it'll be like their POV not them and reader meeting again

I love that Serval, Lynx, and Gepard are all like cat related names lol

sorry for the wait i wanna start writing this one original book i have so i can put it into a competition so i've been focusing on that

byebye

[huckleberrykai]

choi yeonjun ~ are you still watching?

pairing: yeonjun x fem!reader summary: after a long tour away from his baby, yeonjun doesn't wanna pay attention to the netflix show you were watching. genre: SMUT! 18+ only minors dni warnings: blowjob, lots of pet names, fem reader, reader has long hair ? is also called a girl notes: this has been sitting in my drafts for like forever lol, i'm tryna get better at writing smutty stuff but idk if i like this 😭 here it is anyway since i haven't posted in forever word count: 0.9k click here for my masterlist!

when yeonjun got back from tour, you invited him over to stay for the weekend. it's hard not being able to see him for long periods of time, but it makes the reunion just that much sweeter.

the second you opened the door to his rhythmic knocks he engulfed you in a warm hug. you nuzzled your face into his neck and breathed in the scent of your home - him.

you let out a meek "i missed you." as he landed a kiss on your head. "i missed you too baby." he mumbled into your hair.

you both got comfortable on the couch in your cozy clothes and cuddled into each other while putting a show on Netflix.

a few episodes in, yeonjun's hands started to wander. you shivered as his cool hands slipped up under your hoodie to massage your tummy, slowly moving further and further up. as much as he missed your cuddles, he missed you in other ways too ~

"junnie.. you're gonna miss the episode," you whined. yeonjun couldn't care less, which he showed when he opted to latch his lips to your neck and run his fingers up to your breasts instead of paying attention - smirking when he realised you weren't wearing a bra.

"jun-" you protested as he toyed with your nipples, sensitive over the lack of attention they'd received over the past month.

"please baby... missed you so bad... " he mumbled into your neck, massaging your chest in his warm hands. "mmm, missed you too baby. sit back." you caved. you gently pushed him to sit on the couch while you crouched in front of him ~ he always thought you looked so pretty on your knees.

you slowly untied the strings of his sweatpants and pulled them down, teasing him with your snail's pace movements. "babyyy," he groaned, making you giggle and pull his pants down quicker.

"already half hard and i haven't even done anything, really missed me hm? it's okay junnie~ i'm here to help now," you whispered, stroking him over his boxers. he was getting antsy, and started pulling them down himself. "ah ah- slow down baby, wanna take my time 'n make you feel good."

he sighed dramatically, but he knew it would be worth it. "m'kay."

you pulled his boxers down and let his now fully hard cock spring free, tip flushed a pretty pink and leaking with precum. "so pretty, m' favourite cock," you licked a long stripe up the base and smirked at him, "taste so good. missed sucking your cock junnie~"

a strangled moan escaped his lips as he looked down at you, his pretty baby rubbing his dick. he could look at this forever <3

"here baby," you looked up to see him handing you the hair tie he keeps on his wrist for you. "can't see your pretty face, wanna watch you choke on my cock pretty girl."

you couldn't help but rub your legs together for some relief at his dirty words, and you tied your hair back quickly so you could return to the task at hand. you licked a few teasing stripes along his shaft before taking his tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue - just how he liked it.

"fuck.. baby, further.. mm, good girl."

his hand found your messy ponytail and pushed you gently, encouraging you to take his whole length into your mouth. "so good, i love your throat baby, fuck," he murmured. "so so pretty gagging on my cock like that."

you began to bob your head, guided by yeonjun's hand gripping your hair. "that's it pretty, perfect." you pushed past the tears pricking your eyes, blowing him just as he taught you - pretty mouth custom-made just for him. one of your hands was occupied at the base of his cock, so you brought your free hand up to cup and squeeze at his balls, pulling a long groan from him.

"not gonna last long baby, gonna fill your pretty mouth up," he mumbled, throwing his head back on the couch and shutting his eyes, lost in the feeling of your warm, wet mouth - sounds of the tv long ignored, covered by the wet sounds of you sucking him off.

"gonna cum baby, keep going.. right there fuck.. 'm cumming princess~"

you pulled away a little as you felt long spurts of his thick cum shoot down your throat, pulling off with a pop as he released one more spurt right onto your tongue, mouth open for him to watch you take whatever he'd give you. you pumped him with your hand a couple more times, draining him of every last drop before you swallowed it all down, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue to show him it was all gone.

"good girl, always so good for me." he pulled up his pants and pulled you up to sit on his thighs. "what do you say we go to bed and i return the favour hm princess?" he asked, licking his lips and raking his eyes over your body, then trailing back up to your eyes.

and who would say no to such a tempting offer?

you giggled while he lifted you up, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, walking you over to the bedroom - tv show long forgotten and the screen displaying "are you still watching?"

the two of you had seemed to find other ways to unwind for the night <3

nsfw taglist!: @subbyjvnnie @mazeinthemoon @n0-thisispatrick @banggyu0308 

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Hey congratulations🤩🤩, Steven Grant with 24&9

.⋆｡Dear Professor｡⋆.

Steven Grant x plus size reader

When Steven finally gets a job as a tour guide for the British Museum, you decide you need to celebrate him.

Warnings: established relationship, smut, unprotected sex, chair sex, little bit of role-play, oral (m receiving), praise

WC: 589

Minors DNI

3000 Follower Celebration

Knock knock.

Steven looked up from his new work schedule to see you leaning against the pillar, fist resting against the dark wood, in front of his desk. Confused, he pushed his reading back up his large nose and suddenly the breath was knocked from his lungs. 

You were wearing an absolutely tiny pleated skirt that did little more than cover the very top of your plump thighs and a white button-up with one of his ties. Steven swallowed thickly. “Wha-what are you doing love?”

You smirked and pulled at the tie around your neck. “Oh professor, I'm willing to do anything for some extra credit.” You cooed, your voice dropping to a sultry tone that made your partner freeze with arousal. 

Your wide hips swung sensually as you walked around to the other side of his cluttered desk to stand between his legs. “I know I’ve missed a few assignments but I’m willing to put in some real work to make it up to you.” Steven was barely even breathing as you kneeled before him, your hands slipping up his khaki pants to rest just centimetres from his growing cock.

“I-I.” Was all he could manage to get out before he began to whine. You winked at him and rocked up onto your knees. You placed a gentle kiss to his bulge and then took his fly between your teeth, slowly pulling it down. 

His cock springs free, slapping against his still clothed belly, leaving a small wet spot on the dark fabric. You nosed at his hot length, licking at the few veins that snaked up to his now purple tip. “Mmm professor.” You hummed. Steve bucked in your hold, desperately trying to get some much needed friction.

“P-please love, please.” He begged, fingers curling into a tight fist. He fought the urge to push your sweet mouth down onto his cock even if you were teasing him so cruelly. You smirked wickedly before finally putting him out of his misery.

Your lips closed around his tip, the delectably salty taste of his pre-cum exploding on your tongue. Steven let out a beautiful moan, his voice rising in pitch as his head fell back between his shoulders. Slowly, you swallowed down even more of him until your nose was pressed against the thick thatch of hair at the base of his pelvis.

“Holy- I- Oh by the gods.” His eyes cracked open and then immediately slammed shut. You were too beautiful, too sexy on your knees before him. The sight alone was enough to rocket him to his end and he really wanted to make this last. “That’s it, keep going. Such a good girl.” You moaned, your plump thighs pressed together to bring relief to your own aching sex. 

Unable to take it anymore, you pulled off his cock and immediately straddled his strong thighs, not even giving his length time to get cold before he was notched at your entrance and you were sinking down onto him.

“Jesus, loosen up, you’re squeezing me so tight.” He groaned through gritted teeth, his hands coming up to grip at your plush hips beneath the skirt.  You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as you began to bounce atop him.

You pressed your lips right behind his ear. “I’m so proud of you baby, you deserve this promotion, you deserve to do what you love.” His cock twitched wildly within you, the praise going right to his head- both of them. “Now let me spoil you my love.”

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[taylor-on-your-dash]

SO, WHO IS THE SONG MINE ABOUT?

A couple of years ago I read this comment on r/Taylor Swift about Taylor dating a non famous guy who attended Belmont University.

I started college in Nashville in 2010, and the semester before I started, it was well known that Taylor was seeing a guy who lived on campus. It never made headlines because he wasn’t a celebrity like her other relationships. I have seen lots of random explanations for “Mine,” but many students at the university always assumed it was about this guy because the timeline fit.

At the time, I didn't think much of it. I thought that it could've been possible but still, the theory of Mine being about Cory Monteith made more sense to me.

While I was writing the Speak Now Timeline, one of the most important interviews was the Billboard one:

"Mine" was a turning point in the album’s development. It wasn’t until early 2010 when the album truly began to coalesce. Swift presented "Mine" to Borchetta in his office, just a few doors down the hall from the leather couch in the lobby. "We probably played that song four or five times," Borchetta recalls. "I’m jumping around playing air guitar, she’s singing the song back to me, and it was just one of those crazy, fun, Taylor teen-age moments." And then it got serious. "I said, ‘Keep going,’ " Borchetta says. "She kind of looked at me like, ‘You’re challenging me.’ And I said, ‘Yeah. You’ve found true north here. Keep going.’ " It was some time in the period after that challenge — between February and June — that Swift wrote “Innocent,” her response to the Kanye West incident.

That settled it then, no? Mine was written in late February, after Taylor had returned from Tokyo.

My certainties crumbled a few weeks ago, when @1989worldtour sent me an interview where Taylor says that she wrote Mine on the road, specifically in Texas.

Back To December was written in New York City, The Story Of Us was in Nashville, I wrote Mine somewhere on the road, I think in Texas, actually. (X)

Taylor was in Texas on March 10th (in Austin), March 11th (Dallas), and March 12th (Corpus Christi) for the Fearless Tour. At first, this didn't make any sense to me: Taylor had said that she wrote Mine in February! Then again, she often misremembers dates. I had shelved this date in my mind until I randomly found this comment on r/Fauxmoi while I was researching Starlight and the Kennedy craze Taylor went through.

She dated a guy from Belmont I think because a family friend went there and was friends with him and was there the night they met! “By the water” in Mine is apparently about Mozarts - a coffee shop in Austin on the water where they went on a date. I have no way to verify this because it didn’t happen to me but the family friend had pics with Taylor and stuff because of this guy she was friends with who dated Taylor. This might be the only piece of celeb gossip I’ve ever known haha.

Reply: This is true! He's now married with kids and not at all famous.

The return of the Belmont guy! We have two other sources claiming that she dated a non-famous person who attended Belmont. The mention of Texas cemented the fact that there might be a kernel of truth in this theory. At this point, I took this rumor seriously and chose to investigate further. the next question was, if Belmont is in Nashville and the Mozart bar is in Texas, didn't the guy miss a lot of classes? The answer is... no. If you look at the Belmont Academic Calendar, guess when Spring Break was? From March 8th to March 15th! So even if the guy was in college, he didn't miss any classes. There's was plenty of time for him to fly to Texas, attend the show, going on a date at the Mozart bar and then fly back to Nashville.

There's another problem though: according to the Billboard interview, Taylor brought Mine to Scott Borchetta in late February. We don't actually have a direct quote from Taylor or Borchetta saying that it was February. It could be Taylor or Scott misremembering, It could be the journalist inferring (it has happened before, for example on this Rolling Stone article from 2009, where the author said that Love Story and White Horse were for the same person, for some weird reason). After all, late February and early March aren't that far away. Nathan Chapman, the producer of the song, said that they worked on Mine on and off for 4 months. They finished it on July 21st, so March 10th still tracks.

Now, let's look at the actual bar. on the left, we have a screenshot from the Music Video, while on the right, a picture of the Mozart Bar. they look very similar to me, but I admit that I've never been to the USA, so maybe coffee shops all look the same?

Fun fact: The Mozart bar confirmed that she has been there in May 2013, after the Red Tour show.

Conclusions: Honestly, I believe those people on Reddit, but I realise that the sources are very unstable. What makes me believe it though, is the obscure mention of Mine being written in Texas, and the person on Reddit revealing that they had a date at a bar that casually is by the water. It fits perfectly. I don't have any more to say for now, but it's possible that I'll write a post of how Mine is one of the first post John Mayer song and how that relationship affected the themes of her songwriting.

P.S.: I would advise not contacting these people on Reddit. it's obvious that they're friends with him/know him and they wouldn't say anything to help identifying him. plus, it's not our place to gather information about a person that wants anonymity. it's not cool to doxx random people.

[lady-october]

Pairing : Oli Sykes x Female Assistant Genre : Romance, Smut (18+ Only) Previous Chapters : Available on Ao3

Story Content : Smut, Drama, Choking, Power dynamics, Romance, Rough sex, Sadism/Masochism, Dom/Sub, Mentions of addiction & self harm, Degradation, Praise kink, Exhibitionism, Orgasm denial, Breath play, Dirty talk.

Summary :

“Don’t you see what a dangerous game you’re playing? Why did you have to look so fucking delicious tonight, I couldn’t stop undressing you in my mind, thinking of all the twisted things I want to do to you.” She had only worked on the touring team for three weeks, but her mind had been hijacked by dirty thoughts of a man she barely even talked to. Sure, he was very attractive, but were there other reasons she was so uncontrollably drawn to him? This is a filthy story of pain, self discovery, and love.

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Chapter 20: Is this what you wanted?

Chapter title is lyrics from "Kool-Aid"

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Darkness fell as soon as the door slammed shut behind us.

I don’t know how Oli could see anything in his hotel room when I was struggling to make out even the most basic of shapes after having been out in the bright corridor.

Where Mat just saw me be hauled off to – very obviously – be fucked.

But before I knew it I was no longer draped over Oli’s shoulder and my body had successfully connected with the mattress where he’d thrown me.

Panic washed over me like a tsunami as what just happened began to sink in, making me worry about their friendship; making me worry about Oli, and about Mat; making me worry I’ve fucked everything up beyond repair, that there’s no going back, that tonight’s sex with Oli – regardless of how badly I craved it – might put a nail in our coffin.

I heard myself hyperventilate as my eyes struggled to adjust to the room, faint washes of blue from the moonlight spilling through the large arch windows painting the room in navy and grey hues, the silhouette of the man at the end of the bed nearly completely black, with a slight sparkle hitting his eyes as his hands worked their way downwards to undo the buttons he had just buttoned not even a half hour ago, the light and excited energy he was emitting then having been snuffed out, replaced with the anger that permeated the air so thickly it was hard to breathe.

I couldn’t blame him. He had begged me multiple times to not tell him, to not torment him with the mental images of me and his best friend, yet I couldn’t help myself. I had to tell him.

“Strip.” He commanded as he shrugged out of his dress shirt, throwing it onto the floor.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” The heartbeat in my throat threatened to choke me as I pushed the words out.

He huffed out a breath, “Why? Cause we ran into Mat?”

I tried to search for the right words, the words that would convey how I felt, how worried I was, but everything sounded wrong in my head – so self centred.

“You scared he’ll figure out we’re fucking tonight? Cause I’m pretty sure that cat’s out of the bag, love.” He said with sarcasm in his voice when I didn’t respond.

“I don’t want to be the reason you two fall out.” I blurted out, wanting to correct him, wanting him to know my fears aren’t just about myself.

There was a pause as he undid his belt, his head dipped before he muttered, “You know nothing about our friendship. Strip.”

The last word was nearly growled, springing my body into action, making me pull my sweater over my head out of instinct. It was only after I threw it to the side that I realised what I was doing, that I still wasn’t sure we should be doing this – but not unsure enough to use the safeword that would put a stop to it.

“Y-you could go talk to him if you want, and we can do this after.” My words came so meek, so soft, so pathetic.

“And tell him what? That he’s been kissing the mouth I cum in?” He spat, pulling the belt out of the trousers so fast it made a whirring sound. The rage simmering under the surface, close to boiling over, “That my whore wants to fuck him?” His belt hit the wall across the room, and from the sound the buckle made on impact I’d be surprised if it didn’t leave a dent.

I shouldn’t want to do this, I should say the safeword and talk to him, but the truth was the rage made me want him more, made my core throb in anticipation, made the wetness between my legs build to an uncomfortable level.

“I never said that.” The familiar fluster was back in my voice. Predictable and uncontrollable.

I hated myself.

He shook his head as his cock sprung free from the trousers that fell to the floor.

I instinctively crept backwards when he got on the mattress and began stalking towards me, adrenaline rushing through my veins, but he was quick, grabbing my leg, pulling me towards him, holding onto me with a strength I hadn’t felt from him before.

It hit me why I needed a safeword tonight; he was done holding back. Instead it was up to me when I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Don’t you?” His hands busied themselves with undoing my jeans as I fumbled for words, not sure what to answer considering the attraction I felt for Mat. My hands reached for his in an attempt to slow us down, but he slapped them away. My vision had adjusted enough to the darkness that I could see the anger crystal clear in Oli’s eyes; he was fuming, but also clearly in agony, overcome with jealousy.

All I could do was open and close my mouth, speechless, as he peeled my jeans off of me.

“What is it, love? You want my blessing to fuck my best friend?” The jeans were thrown with the same intensity as all the other garments, the close proximity of the rage flooding me with yet another rush of adrenaline.

I shook my head, “N-no.”

His eyes fell to the underwear I was still wearing after my date with Mat. I had completely forgotten to take them off before coming over, being too busy panicking over talking to Oli about everything that’s happened the last 24 hours.

He must have seen the panic in my eyes, his gaze growing even darker as he yanked them off of me.

“You shouldn’t have told me any of this.” He muttered as he spread my legs, crawling between them, crawling on top of me.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered as his hair tickled my face, the sex I was trying to postpone having become imminent as I knew I couldn’t bring myself to actually stop it. His otherwise hazel eyes like blue flames in the moonlit room, only inches from mine, both intense with emotion yet somehow dead and void of them at the same time.

“Shut up, Alice.” Is all he said before he pushed into me carelessly, painfully, making me cry out as he buried himself inside me deep enough that our hips connected in one hard thrust.

My world was spinning, my heart racing, and my breath catching, but through the cloud of overwhelming sensations I could hear his uneven breaths joining mine, feel the heat from the puffs of air leaving his mouth against my shoulder, through the mesh fabric of my crop top as his head had fallen forward, his soft locks pushing into my face, obscuring some of my vision.

Fleetingly I wondered if whatever magic scent he always emitted came from a hair product, as I was suddenly flooded by it, my nerves inexplicitly soothed by the calming aroma.

But considering the situation, this was not the time for settled nerves, made very clear by the hand that appeared on my collarbone, holding me firmly, possessively, in place as he pushed himself up, staring intensely at me under heavy eyelids.

The hand holding me in place followed the curve of my neck to my shoulder, the corners of his lips twisting into a sadistic smile as his grip tightened, pushing me down harder onto his cock, effectively pinning me against him.

Excitement and fear exploded in my chest as I realised I couldn’t escape even if I wanted to, knowing he wants to hurt me, torture me, and the only way out of this is one single word in the entire English language.

With that knowledge I couldn’t help but feel curiosity, making me want to explore my options, to try and escape just to see what would happen.

“Get off me.” I whispered shyly, testing the waters.

He huffed out a laugh that made his dick tense inside me, amused by my pathetic attempt, followed by his less busy hand grabbing the hem of my top along with my bra, and yanking it upwards to free one of my breasts with a bounce.

I yelped, still not accustomed to him using his full strength while handling me.

“Stop.” I said with a bit more authority.

But he completely ignored it, instead he wrapped his fingers around my nipple, causing my eyes to widen, knowing how sensitive my nipples are, knowing how easy it is to inflict pain upon them.

“Wait, no, wait–”

“This will hurt.” He said with a massive grin before his fingers dug into my shoulder even more, and he pinched my nipple, twisting it as he went.

I screamed, trying to push him off of me but he was immovable. I could hear him laughing as the searing pain shot through me like lightning.

“No, no, no, no, please!” I begged, trying to materialise the word that he told me to use if I needed him to ease up, and thankfully it came to me quickly, “Pink, pink, piiiink!”

While the tension on my nipple eased at the word, he was still pinching it agonisingly hard.

“Is that it, is that all you can take?” He asked, mockingly. As I looked up at his gleeful eyes, glowing with a depraved excitement, I felt the delicious high rush over me, the wonderful aftermath of having him inflict pain on me, the sweet release I’ve been craving for hours.

“Disappointing.” He added, but he didn’t seem disappointed, no, he seemed like he was having the time of his life figuring out my limits with his throbbing cock buried deep inside me, my legs folded, spread uncomfortably wide to accommodate the way he sat between them, keeping me in place, preventing me from wriggling out of his grasp.

I released a sigh as he let go of my nipple in order to spit in his hand, but it returned to pinching immediately, this time the added wetness causing a burning sensation on the very sore flesh there. His eyelids grew heavier along with his breathing as he watched my face twist in pain. I inhaled sharply as he applied further pressure, his length inside me periodically twitching, tensing, throbbing, letting me know how much he was getting off on this despite not actually fucking me yet.

“Let’s try again, shall we?”

My eyes widened as his grin turned sinister once more. 

While he didn’t pinch and twist with as much strength as before, I still screamed. I tried to pull his hand off of me, I clawed and shoved at him, but nothing worked, he just laughed as I writhed on his cock from all my thrashing around. Yet I was intent on not using the safeword, or telling him to ease up. Instead I wanted to fight him in earnest, to push myself, to push him, to see where both our limits actually are.

It wasn’t until I dug my nails into his arm so deep that I might have drawn blood that he stopped pinching me, only to slap me across my face, my head snapping to the side from the impact. My hand instinctively reached for my burning cheek but he slapped that away too before grabbing my chin to yank me back into his vision.

I was expecting to see rage on him, but was instead met with glazed over, hungry eyes that looked like they were about to eat me alive as he was hovering over me again, close to my face.

His grip on me changed, shifted, taking hold of my hip as his other hand pushed behind my neck to hold my head still, keeping his intense eyes on mine as he started moving inside me.

So many parts of me were stinging and burning, making me feel high as a kite while the waves of pleasure rushed me with each pounding thrust. 

My moans came heavy, louder than usual.

Suddenly he held me closer against him, rolling onto his back, leaving me to sit on top of him, straddling him. The hand on my neck lacing into my hair, pulling me in for a desperate kiss that nearly brought the tears back to my eyes, the fingers that had been digging into my hips caressed over the sore skin of my ass that he’d been working on while carrying me from the rooftop. 

I flinched from the burning touch.

He pulled my head away from his lips to hold me at an awkward, uncomfortable angle. I looked down at the man inside me, below me, a confusing mix of anger and wonder emitting from him as he studied my features. His lips parted, panting, glistening from our kiss. Burning eyes and wild hair painting dark swirls on the light pillow underneath him.

The fiery eyes turned dark again right before more pain was inflicted on my ass. A loud slap echoed through the room, only filled with our laboured breathing a moment ago, now filled with my cries of pain as I fumbled to keep my weight on my arms so I wouldn’t just be held up by my hair.

The fingers on my behind dug into the soft, extremely sore skin there, clutching my cheek in order to move me on him. I felt an overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure that nearly made me give in; nearly made me tell him to ease up on me, or even consider saying the safeword. My whimpers telling the story of my emotions to perfection, I could barely distinguish myself whether the sounds spilling from my mouth were that of ecstasy or agony.

Meanwhile the lazy, sinister smile on Oli was conveying that this is exactly how he wanted me.

An even louder slap echoed all around us and I heard a strangled moan leave me.

“P-pink.” I whispered, stuttered, as he laughed at my suffering, digging his nails back into me, moving me on him faster as I struggled to keep my weight on my shaking arms. Wave upon wave of pleasure washed over me as the adrenaline from the pain filled me, the cock inside me was hitting all the right spots from this angle, my clit grinding on his pubic bone with each movement.

“I used to daydream about this, about torturing you,” His words came so deep he sounded demonic, “your flushed, tear stained cheeks.”

Another slap, a bit lighter this time, but I still produced a similar moan, the skin so sore I wasn’t sure I’d be able to sit tomorrow. Instantly more waves of pleasure came as the immediate pain subsided.

His words made me realise I could feel the warm liquid run down my face, I hadn’t noticed I’d started crying again. As with everything else, I couldn’t tell if it was from bliss or distress, or maybe simply from being overwhelmed, but I could feel my orgasm build, and build because of the same emotion that had caused it.

“You’re stunning like this.” Another slap, he let go of my hair this time, letting me fall forward onto him, onto his warm, ink covered chest, “My perfect whore.” He said into my hair as my moans came louder, faster, matching how he was moving me on him.

“Does it feel good, love?”

Slap.

I trembled, my moans and whimpers coming broken with my hitching breaths.

“Y–yes.” I answered once the majority of the stinging sensation settled.

I realised he was also shaking as he ground me down on him harder, in longer strokes.

Slap.

This time he groaned alongside my cries.

“Are you close?” From the way he asked it, I assumed he was close as well.

“Very.” I whimpered.

His fingers shoved back into my hair, pulling me back into his vision. His eyes glazed over, studying me with a pained expression, baring his teeth slightly as he started pumping me harder.

Slap.

Euphoria shifted his features as I cried out in pain, but as soon as the worst of it faded I felt myself melt against him, my climax so close I could taste it.

He must have seen it on me because his eyes widened with excitement, and right as my orgasm started he threw me off of him. I landed with a thud on the mattress next to him, disoriented and empty.

“No– wait, p-please–” I reached for my pussy to try and salvage what was left of my orgasm, so it wouldn’t be completely ruined, but he was already there, grabbing my wrist as his other hand held my chin.

For a moment I felt as if Oli was no longer here when I looked up at the man above me, as if he’d been replaced by some vicious animal intent on tearing me apart, the vision so shocking I abandoned any attempts to save my climax.

“On the floor.” He said with an eerie calmness, letting go of me entirely, “kneel.”

I instantly obeyed, my limbs feeling like jelly as I fumbled to get on my knees for him.

He shuffled, positioning himself to sit at the end of the bed, fingers shoving back into my hair as he worked his cock over my face.

“The only way you get to cum tonight, is if you say the safeword.” He watched me frown as he said it, feeling torn, wanting the cum. But I had made it this far without tapping out, enjoying his games, and I didn’t want to stop now, “Otherwise, I will make sure you don’t touch yourself until you fall asleep.” The corners of his panting mouth tugged as he implied that I’d sleep here.

An involuntary smile bloomed on my lips through my hazy state. 

Which settled it, I wasn’t going to have an orgasm tonight.

“Pinch your nipple for me, love. Let me watch you suffer a bit more.” His words came ragged, clearly close to the edge.

I did as he requested, pinching significantly, much less than he had, suddenly scared of the pain when it was self inflicted.

“Harder.” He growled.

I don’t know if it was his aggression, the pain, or the ruined orgasm, but my core began throbbing deeply as I applied more pressure to my nipple, his eyes glazing over, his movements coming jerky as I whimpered.

“Open your mouth.” He breathed, the cum already spilling from his length as my lips parted for him.

He pushed my head down on him, the cum threatening to make me gag as he shot down my throat, releasing the pressure just in time to avoid it. With both his hands in my hair, holding me passionately as he moaned, the delectable liquid filling my mouth with each shot, his cock tensing in waves against my tongue, driving me wild.

When he was done he released me and I collapsed to the floor, swallowing his load.

The sound of both our heavy breaths filling the air. My gaze settled on him, his eyes towards the ceiling, his cock still bobbing as his head came back up, his hair shifting, falling over his face in order to look down on me with a relaxed grin.

He looked so happy, content.

Sadly it only lasted a moment, his features twisting to something more bitter as he watched me on the floor, as if he sobered up, remembering why we were doing this in the first place.

I watched him get up, walk over to his luggage in the corner and crouch down before it. I sat up, suddenly uncomfortable, the thick sexual tension having left the air much quicker than usual. The sound of a lighter could be heard as he stood back up, puffs of smoke surrounding him while he walked back to the bed, throwing himself onto the mattress. I could smell the familiar scent of cigarette smoke as he walked past me, having smoked for a long time and only quitting a couple of years ago.

“Come here, love.” His words were tender, loving.

I pushed myself up on my unsteady legs, my aching body struggling to stay upright. 

Deciding to slip out of my mangled top and bra before getting into bed with him, I nearly lost balance, but I successfully completed my task and made it the to the bed where Oli proceeded to nestle me up against him, kissing the top of my head as I wrapped my arm around his chest.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I don’t.” He responded casually, “Not anymore, just when I’m tense.”

He took another long drag and I watched the ember turn bright orange in his hand before he exhaled, releasing a cloud that was tinted blue with the rest of the room.

I reached out and took the cigarette off of him, inhaling deeply, also feeling rather tense.

“I won’t see Mat anymore.” I said after I handed the cigarette back to him.

He huffed out a breath, shaking his head, “No, I’m not doing that again, I’ve seen how that ends. Do whatever it is you need to do so you can be sure who you want.”

Realisation hit me like a ton of bricks.

I pushed myself up on my elbow to look at him.

“When you said your ex cheated with an old friend…”

“Was wondering if you’d ever piece that together,” He gave me a dejected smile, “Guess I made it a bit obvious just now though, didn’t I?”

I stared at him, confused, wondering why he remained such close friends with Mat after what happened, after his ex had cheated with him.

My forehead knotted into a frown as I searched for the words to ask for clarification, to learn more, but I didn’t know how to approach the delicate topic.

“Why are you still friends with him?”

Such a dumb question, phrased so poorly, so bluntly. I wish I could take it back, but my brain clearly didn’t work after the sex we just had.

It was his turn to frown.

“I mean– beyond the obvious, I know you’re in a band together–” I continued before he cut me off.

“Honestly Alice, it’s not that bloody simple is it?” He said with a sigh, moreso defeated sounding than annoyed. Taking one last drag off the cigarette, he reached over to the nightstand and dropped it into the glass of water resting there, putting the ember out with a hissing noise.

His head hit the pillow again with yet another sigh, sad eyes meeting mine.

“Her name was Fay.”

While I really wanted to hear this story, I didn’t want to contribute to more distress tonight, not after we already had sex – not after we’d already done the thing that should help ease our suffering.

“Oli, you don’t have to–”

“Would you rather not know?” A genuine question, asked calmly, seriously.

“I, I do, a lot actually, but–”

“Then let me tell you.” There was a pained confusion on his features as he spoke the gentle words, pleading to let him vocalise his thoughts to me. 

My frown melted away.

“Okay.” I answered softly.

“Her name was Fay.” He started his story again, “She was a good friend of Mat for years. I always enjoyed her company – very wild spirited, would always get us into trouble – but I was never close with her… Well, not until Mat started dating her, and suddenly she was always around.” He laughed nervously, his eyes roaming towards the ceiling as he continued speaking, “I felt like a piece of shit, I would stay up late with her a lot of nights, just chatting each other's ears off, I didn’t even realise I was falling for her until it was too late.”

His arm around me held me closer, caressing me lovingly as he was lost in telling his story.

“It wasn’t unusual though, we’d fallen for each other's girls so many times over the years we pretty much had a protocol for it. As soon as I realised, I told Mat, and we both knew it just meant I should stop hanging out with her alone. Which I did.”

He sighed deeply, “Problem is, Fay does whatever the fuck she wants. She sussed out pretty quickly that I had feelings for her, confronted me, told me she felt the same, told me she’d planned to break up with Mat because of it.”

Glowing eyes shot back to mine, “Not a nice feeling that, so fucking torn between being happy that she felt the same for me, but knowing I can’t allow myself to be with her – also knowing that I’m the only reason they’re breaking up. It’s just a shit show.”

Shaking his head his gaze returned to the ceiling, “Next day Mat told me they broke up, and to my surprise he practically begged me to date her, telling me that we both deserved to be happy, that he’ll get over it, that I was always the better match for Fay anyway. I thought it was nonsense, the proclamations of a heartbroken man, feeling down on himself. I didn’t even consider it until months later when Mat had managed to mend his friendship with her, and everything seemed alright with him again. Then it suddenly got too tempting. In hindsight I should never have acted on it, but we ended up dating for almost a year… I was gonna ask her to marry me. It wasn’t until right before it all blew up that Mat came to me, telling me he fucked up, confessing the feelings for her had resurfaced, telling me she’d been flirting with him too. The jealous twat I am, I instantly confronted Fay; she didn’t deny it, she told me she felt blessed for not only having one soulmate, but two… My heart just shattered.”

Oli’s arm around me had tensed up, the gentle caresses having come to a stop.

Vulnerable eyes flickered to mine before he continued, speaking more thoughtfully.

“She stayed with Mat that night, was at a shared accommodation, I actually caught her leaving his room in the early hours of the morning. I’d stayed outside all night, couldn’t be in the same room as her, not after what she told me – I needed some time. I just sat staring at the beach for hours while they fucked I guess.”

My heart ached for him, leaving me intent on not seeing Mat anymore. Leaving a bad taste in my mouth when it came to Mat in general. I couldn’t believe he would sleep with someone his best friend had been dating for so long, and was so committed to, especially so quickly, regardless of their history.

“This is when I learned what a liar Fay was. She’d told Mat that we’d broken up already, that she felt nothing for me, that she regretted leaving him, and so on.”

“But how could he sleep with her without even talking to you first?”

He gave me a guilty smile, “So, there may have been one small detail I left out.”

I squinted at him, “Go on.”

“I may have slept with his ex too.” My eyes widened in surprise as the guilt on his face intensified, “A couple of them actually.”

I felt my features twist into disbelief, “What?”

“To be fair, he’s slept with a fair few of mine as well.”

I was stunned, confused about their entire friendship.

“We’re both lovesick fools who can’t seem to resist the same women a lot of the time, and while most of it was in our teens and early twenties, it’s happened in more recent years too, just very rarely. We made a point of steering clear of it, to prevent more heartache for both of us.”

“Again, why are you two still friends?” I asked, shaking my head, my original, blunt question, suddenly seeming perfectly appropriate.

He let out a long breath, “He’s my best mate, it just always felt like we didn’t want any birds to get between that, despite this shit happening repeatedly. And to be honest with you, Fay was different for many reasons. I’d never felt quite like that for anyone before her. For better and for worse. She had a way of making you get completely lost in the moment when you were with her, you’d buy whatever lies she sold you. So I can’t even blame Mat, if he’s anything like me – which when it comes to these types of things he sure seems to be – I get why he couldn’t turn her down.”

While not being able to relate to his situation at all, a level of understanding began to surface as he explained.

“I’d never seen him so destroyed afterwards though, I think he’d done anything to set it right. He actually had me move in with him for a while, when I relapsed, to look after me. I’ve cried in the arms of that man more than I care to admit.”

Silence fell for a moment as he stared off into space. My hand began mindlessly trailing his chest which seemed to have pulled him out of whatever thought he was preoccupied with, as he inhaled and began caressing my back again.

“Neither of us talked to Fay ever again, haven’t even said her name in each other's company.”

Thoughtful eyes met mine, the moonlight extenuating his features from this angle, highlighting all the contrast the man next to me has to offer; the sweet and gentle eyes, so easy to get lost in, set in a face filled with strong edges, high cheekbones and inkwork, yet framed by wild locks of hair that should make him look messy, rough, but only added a playful charm to him.

I hadn’t realised how intensely I’d been staring at him until he continued speaking.

“Mat’s a good man, we’ve just got a bit of an odd situation between us. If he knew I had feelings for you, I know he’d take a step back, ignore you like the plague probably after everything with Fay.”

He reached out to touch my face, stroking it tenderly before lacing his fingers into my hair, his thumb brushing my cheek with the same softness. His touch was so sweet, treating me as if I was precious in his hands, another stark contrast from earlier. I felt myself melt into his palm, craving his affection, which seemed to happen like clockwork after we had rougher sex.

“Makes things a bit tricky for me, cause I do have feelings for you.” The words were spoken under his breath, softly, lovingly. 

I swallowed, reminded of the high stakes of the situation.

“But if you end up with me I can’t be worrying about you and Mat, I can’t do that again. Which is why I just want you to get whatever you need out of your system when it comes to Mat. You’re clearly interested in him. If it’s him you’d rather be with, I don’t want to start anything proper with you.”

While I couldn’t deny that I was drawn to Mat in a multitude of ways, I already knew how I felt about the man next to me.

“That’s fair, but I already have feelings for you.”

He sucked on his teeth for a second, “So did Fay.”

“I’m not Fay.” I returned quickly.

The smile he gave me was sombre, “No, you’re not, in almost all ways you’re her polar opposite actually – except for the fact that it’s incredibly easy to get lost in the moment with you.”

Understanding the implication of his statement, I was momentarily upset by the fact that he was suggesting I’d be the type of person who cheats, but considering Oli’s history, I quickly pushed that thought aside, knowing his reasons for feeling that way had nothing to do with me.

“So you want me to… explore things with Mat?”

The tension that washed over Oli at my question was almost tangible, “For the sanity and wellbeing of all three of us, I don’t want to know what you two get up to – but please, Alice, if you decide you’re ready to become mine, then be mine.”

It was impossible to do anything but agree with Oli whenever he gave me those pleading eyes.

“Okay.” I whispered before looking away, feeling silly for asking my next question, “Can I still spend the night?”

The tension deflated from him, “Please do.”

Laying my head back on his shoulder, he immediately, eagerly, nestled me back into him, like he craved the intimacy from it just as much as I did. My limbs tangled with his, his warm and loving embrace giving me more comfort than anything I could imagine, making me feel foolish for even contemplating anything with Mat.

But considering the circumstances, it might be even more foolish of me to disregard him entirely, leaving a door open for the future.

Leaving me to wonder what could have been.

“You were incredible tonight.” He whispered into my hair before pressing his cheek to the top of my head.

Warmth spread in my chest, my lips curving into a smile, “Yeah?” “Yeah. I love the way you fought me, you’re stronger than you look.”

I huffed out a small laugh, “Oh please, I couldn’t budge you.”

“You weren’t that far off you know, and my arm’s gonna be stinging for a while.”

Knowing I was more than likely quite far off, I still enjoyed how he indulged me.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to sit tomorrow.” I retorted teasingly.

I felt his features shift against my head, and from the way he spoke I could tell he was also smiling, “You love it though, don’t you?”

“Very much.”

A comfortable silence fell as I listened to his heartbeat, his steady breathing tickling my forehead. My mind wandered back to the rooftop, regret filling me, wishing I could have just enjoyed the date with him like a normal person.

“I’m sorry for ruining our date, the rooftop… No one’s ever done anything so romantic for me.”

“Not to try and bribe you or anything, but we could have a lot of nights like that, love.”

Half of me wanted that future so badly it ached, yet the other half was sounding the alarm bells, ready to run for the hills at the idea of being in another committed relationship. I knew it was an irrational fear, but I still couldn’t seem to shake the panic that came with thoughts of a future with someone.

Probably because someone very important failed to commit to me.

“You know, I also used to love watching the stars.”

His roaming hand stilled on my arm, “Used to?”

“Yeah. Of course it looked nothing like this,” I said as I gazed out the window, at the starlit night, “I was lucky if I could see a handful of them even when it was clear. But my dad and I would often lay on the grass in our back garden on a late evening, before I lost him.”

“I’m sorry, Alice. How old were you when he died?”

“Oh, he’s not dead. He just moved.”

“Oh.” He responded, clearly confused.

“He went to start a new family on the other side of the country when I was ten. It was like he never had me. I didn’t even get a card on my next birthday. Mum said he’d sent one, that it would be in the post any day now, but it never came. So, I haven’t talked to him since I was 14, partly because I decided I couldn’t stand being progressively forgotten anymore.”

“Fucking hell, what a prick.”

His sudden blunt words caused me to break out into laughter.

He joined with an awkward chuckle, “I’m sorry, but that’s awful though. Can I ask something?”

Slight unease crept in, already feeling vulnerable from sharing such a sore part of my past, but I wanted to push myself, to open up to him like he’d opened up for me.

“Sure.”

“Is that where the commitment issues come from?”

“I think so.” My words came softly, “I’ve only ever been in one long term relationship.”

There was a pause before he spoke, making me wonder what he was thinking, what conclusions he was coming to about me, “I see, and you said you didn’t even like him – so what made him special enough to be the only one?”

I felt myself fighting the urge to squirm, “I guess the fact that he wasn’t special at all.”

“Ah,” He started, before echoing my words that he practically forced out of me earlier in the week, “Because you’re scared of having something worth losing.”

Bingo.

“Yeah, which is why everything was so simple with him.”

Another silence fell before he spoke softly, “Am I special to you?”

I tried to push the words out, but it took me a while. I could feel him tensing beneath me, his heart rate speeding up.

“You are.” I whispered after a long moment.

More time passed, both of us clearly raking things over in our mind.

“I can’t decide if that’s wonderful or horrible.” He finally responded.

“Me neither.”

... Subscribe to the story on Ao3 for future updates

[gard3nias]

03| The exploratory stage

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wc: 5.35k

date: 25/05/2024

quick summary: oc and cleo go shopping; cleo gives oc a tour of the town; oc and cleo go to jimin's restaurant and cleo gives oc a description of tae and his friends

mdi // masterlist // playlist

— Now playing: Her Dreams by Luca D'Alberto ✫

Summer mornings are always fresh. You won't find icy leaves and wet grass like in spring, but you'll surely take a hoodie with you to then discard it for the rest of the day. September falls partly in this season and is known to be warm. It's not as hot as July or as rainy as June. It's just warm.

It was early in the morning, very early for anyone to be awake if not for work reasons, especially if the person is a student who'd gladly sleep till late in the morning. Daphne knew that too as she turned in her bed, left to right and vice-versa. She wanted to stay in bed some more but simply couldn't. Sleep had left her lying awake under her newly washed blanket.

It was around six in the morning. Already bright, bright enough to shine through the windows and into her room. Daphne loved it. Loved the look her room has on an early summer morning. The ambience made her want to be active—like the scent of brewing coffee in the morning. The light didn't bother her in the slightest—it was the main reason she'd wake up early, but that was the sole point back then. Now that she was used to it, she moved her attention to the room's look rather than the eye-slashing feeling of light immediately awake.

At the end of the bed was Luke peacefully sleeping. Outside branches waved along with the soft breeze. On the bed, Daphne had just sat up and was adjusting her hair, and the movement caused the dog to wake up alert. "Ooh! You're here too," Daphne cooed, playing with Luke and Loki simultaneously. Immediately, the latter, who had slept on the ground, hopped on the bed to place his muzzle on her knee and be cuddled more. The owner obliged and spent the following moments cuddling her dogs and going on about how she found them adorable but soon enough, the early morning urge to pee settled in and she had to leave the dogs to ease herself.

Outside her room, she noticed how silent the house was, so she checked the time that didn't spark any surprise in her. It was like her body was set to wake up this early, even when it was not needed. The latest she'd woken up was a quarter past six.

Once she had settled herself, hushing the dogs to keep quiet and make no noise, she tiptoed downstairs. Like her bedroom, the place was well-lit—curtains would wave with the breeze, and light would shine more. She first helped herself with a glass of water from the sink, and after downing that, she opened the little window above it. She intended to open it wide, but the strong wind immediately changed her idea.

Like she had suspected earlier, outside was chilly. Once she had rinsed the glass off, she prepared herself a cup of latte, starting with prepping the coffee machine. Soon enough, the machine was on, and while the coffee brewed, she returned to her room to take a hoodie, book, and agenda.

In the meantime, the dogs had calmed down—Luke went back to sleeping, and Loki was on the couch. Once her drink was ready and she was dressed accordingly, she entered the backyard and sat on the swing on the veranda.

Since school wasn't on yet, her agenda was quite empty, all pages pretty blank but she had things she had to take care of before it began again: she had to go shopping for school supplies. She had already prepared the list back when she was in the city, but she'd managed to tick off very few things before she moved. That day, she hoped to go shopping with Cleo's help since she'd offered to give her a town tour.

Checked her phone, and it was close to half past six. Since she didn't know exactly when her friend normally woke up, she decided to wait till seven before texting her.

Looking at Cleo's contact in her phone caused her to smile, recalling their hang-out the previous day. She didn't know if to classify Cleo's hatred for books as funnier than their debate on cats and dogs.

Which one is better? Cats or Dogs? Funny debate, honestly.

It's funny because they had stated multiple times which one they prefer. Cleo's a cat person, and Daphne's a dog person. No argument allowed. But yeah, they still went at it and argued about which one was easier to take care of, which makes the worse mess, causes, or conceals stress or makes a better lifetime friend.

Cleo was very determined to make her point come across while Daphne always specified that both animals have their good and bad sides so they can't be compared.

—Now playing: Boy in a Water Globe by Slow Meadow ✫

The latest book she's been reading was in her hands, "Self-portrait in Letters" by Anne Sexton. One of its quotes was intriguing enough to push her to get the book. She'd just got into the platform Tumblr that summer and found it lovely how she could go book fishing by simply reading quotes and citations from them. Most of the books she had read in the last three months were found thanks to Tumblr. She'd just started this book because the whole process of moving forced her to use her time differently or, at least, not like she usually does.

Following her handmade bookmark, she quickly resumed reading.

The breeze was chilly but not the chilly that produced goosebumps of discomfort. It was the type that worked in favour of your homeostasis. Nicely fresh. It blows through your hair, caresses the back of your neck, softly moves your clothes, and engulfs your body in a lovely bubble. The bubble in movies, made of glass, defies gravity and welcomes a soft bed where you can sit as you observe the world around you move when, in reality, you are the one.

Anyone would wish for that, but it doesn't exist. The bubble was the breeze, pushing through every space around Daphne, running in the space between her knees, her arms, her clothes, her body, and the swing. A flat pad covered the swing's surface while she leaned on the pillow behind her. The swing stirred as she adjusted her position, her slippers by it.

Daphne loved living like this, waking up on a late summer morning, welcomed in a fresh and silent environment. It made the temptation to open a book so irresistible. She never fought against it, though. Always succumbed to it. Gladly. Happily. Proudly.

Birds chipped. Dogs barked in the distance. Tree crowns waved with the wind filling the environment with whistle-like sounds. Everything together formed the perfect background track for the life Daphne wanted to lead.

She turned the page. The paper softly scraped through her fingers, fingers that quickly moved back to her hair to play with the strands, twisting and twirling as her eyes sucked in the content that filled the book in her hands. She carefully read each word without skipping through. Imagined every scenario described. Unconsciously nodded when she related to them. Furrowed her brows when something left her in disbelief or confused. Bit her lip to suppress her anger towards injustice or anything that annoyed her. Giggled when anything amused her. Changed position occasionally.

She went on like this for over half an hour, but if you were to ask her, she'd never claim it to be above half an hour. Felt too fleeting to have been that long, but don't blame her, she'd easily lose track of time whenever she fell into her comfort zone.

Her me-time was interrupted by the soft vibration coming from her phone. Fighting against her wish, eyes seemingly super-glued to the pages, she took her phone and checked the notifications.

Cleo: girl, you up?

Placing her bookmark between the pages without closing the book, she unlocked the phone and replied to the message.

me: been up for a bit 

Cleo: for a bit? At what time do you get up?

me: early bird remember? 

Cleo: whatever Cleo: get dressed, let's go shopping

She smiled. Cleo's demanding-not-so-demanding tone was amusing, but she was glad they both wanted to do the same thing that day. Agreeing and deciding what time to meet, Daphne closed the book, wore her slippers, and went inside.

She greeted her dad by the kitchen counter, waiting for his coffee to be ready. He greeted back, eyes droopy because of sleep. Daphne noticed it and asked him about it, and it turned out that he'd been waking up with a headache lately despite the amount of sleep he would get. The two talked about the possible reasons that first were simple shoulder shrugs and then were found in the stress moving must have caused him. Once they were done, after a little moment of silence ran through, Daphne updated her dad on her plan for the day. He nodded and expressed his happiness for seeing her enjoy her new-yet-not-so-new home. Daphne calmed the father, telling him that there was nothing for him to worry about but, being married to her mom for over thirty years implied absorbing some of her traits as he insisted, desperately trying to explain himself like her mom does.

—Now playing: Tutti I Colori Della Mia Vita - I Won't Let You Down by Zucchero ✫

She went to her room, dropped her things on the desk, and beelined for the shower, which she quickly left. Once she'd finished her self-care routine, she went to her room where she stood in front of her open closet eyeing every piece of clothing she had and mentally combining them till she made the outfit that satisfied her taste for the day.

A ballet-style white shirt, a brown mini-jean skirt, and that was it. Everything was topped with rings, bracelets, necklaces, and a tote bag containing her belongings. She focused less on her hair and makeup, lightly applying concealer, a subtle red tint on her lips, and holding her hair up with the help of a hairclip.

Like clockwork, Daphne was hopping down the stairs by the time her mother had placed the last cup of milk on the table. "And where are you going looking all cute and lovely?" she asked as she sat down. Daphne softly giggled as she sat down too and, after dipping and eating the biscuit, she answered: "Cleo and I are going to town today. Shopping,". Her mom's seemingly warm-cheeked smile was so nice that the silence that ran through felt comfortable.

"I'm so happy you're happy," she warmly spoke. Daphne sighed, complaining about how her father brought the same thing up and repeating multiple times that they both had nothing to worry about. "I'm just happy. Can't I be happy that you're happy? My daughter is happy!"

"I never said that, but, truly, I'm happy but happy as in... the normal happy, I never changed. I wasn't sad—"

"But you were kind of upset about moving here, weren't you?" Another sigh from the daughter's side, and she dismissed everything and focused on her breakfast, "You see... that you did change,"

"Mom," she whined with a mouthful of biscuits before briefly expressing her love for them. "Okay, whatever. I'm still happy that you're happy,"

"Hmm, me too. I'm happy that you're happy that I'm happy," Daphne giggled as her mother rolled her eyes. Once they've both come down from the laughs and a few bites later, the mother changed the topic: "Do you have enough money to go shopping? Do you want more money? I have money. You can also ask your grandparents. They won't even—"

"Mom... I'm fine. Don't worry. I don't overspend. You have nothing to worry about. " They talked more about people, things, and life before Cleo knocked at the door.

"I'm coming right up!" Daphne announced, hurriedly finishing her milk and grabbing her stuff. A peck on her mom's cheeks, her feet in a pair of Dr Martens, and she was out.

"Good morning!" Cleo sang in falsetto, welcoming her friend in her arms. Her perfume filled her nostrils. She was dressed in a white sundress with brown cowboy boots and a bag hanging by her shoulder. Hairpins decorated her head. Daphne greeted back as they walked out of the compound and the neighbourhood.

"We will have lots of fun today because there's the market. It's basically like an open-air thrift store where you can find things that you most likely won't find in supermarkets," Daphne nodded as her friend started the tour, not just talking about the market they were heading to but also about the way to the bus stop.

"So the terminal bus station is not so far away from here, and this is to make you understand how far out of the town we are. Whenever we catch this bus to school, we're coming down on the terminal in town,"

"Ooh, so we're so close to travelling terminal to terminal every day." They had trekked down the hill road that entered their neighbourhood and were now on the side of the road, heading to the bus stop. The clock's hour hand was inching closer to ten. The fresh breeze from before had been replaced with warm sun rays.

"Trust me when I tell you that if you miss the morning bus before eight, you'll not get to school unless you ask for a lift from your parents." The season and the hour implied an empty road for them to walk side by side.

Despite the years that ran through from the last time Daphne came here, their chemistry never faltered, and soon enough, they were engrossed in conversation talking about anything and everything. The road had no sidewalks but was large enough to have a designated area for pedestrians. The wind was now lighter as the sun grew brighter.

Ahead of them was their destination. The bus stop, slightly raised from the road level, welcomed a bench sheltered in case of bad weather. Arrived, Cleo slid onto the bench. Daphne sat beside her immediately after. As explained previously, only one bus led to the town and backwards reason why only one bus number was written on the little board. "Did you ever have to run to catch the bus?"

"Fuck yeah! I run like a crazy person. It rarely happens but no worries because the driver usually sees me running and waits a little if they get to the stop before I do. Guess they know how important it is for me to catch it,"

"I guess they just know the bus doesn't pass quite often so they understand you'd be left stranded if you missed it and since they can tell your age, they know you're a student and therefore being stranded wouldn't do you any good," Daphne reasoned. Thanks to the shelter above them, and the hour of the day, the bench wasn't scorching hot like it's expected to be in summer.

"It's not really about that. The town is tiny, everyone knows everyone kind of. On the first day of school everyone will be staring at you because they all know you're new," Daphne gasped, hoping that her friend was joking but she wasn't. The town was small, especially if you lived in the centre—less if you lived in the outskirts like them.

They waited ten minutes before they saw the bus coming from afar. Classic bus. The main colours were sky blue and grey with pretty wide windows. They could see the subtle heat waves around it as it got closer. With Cleo stretching an arm out, the bus stopped for them to get on. An air-releasing sound and the doors slid open.

From the front door, they beelined for the empty seats at the end of the bus fighting to keep their equilibrium as the bus was already moving. Once settled, they went back to talking about everything like it was usual for them. The world around them slid like a filmstrip.

TIME SKIIIIIP

—Now playing: Occhi by Zucchero ✫

Taken the bus some minutes after ten, and since the journey was normally an hour long but shortened because in summer the stops don't always contain passengers, by a quarter to eleven they had reached the town centre and were now heading to the market, a few stops ahead.

The journey before reaching the town was devoid of human presence. It seemed lifeless, yet not entirely so. There were trees, fields, and farms, but very few humans aside from those working in the fields or boarding the bus. Daphne, initially preoccupied with her thoughts, didn't observe her surroundings as she usually did but had to once they reached the centre due to Cleo's tour.

Unlike the previous morning, the town was wide awake: the streets were filled with people, all shops were open, cyclists slid through, and the sun shone bright. Cleo explained that the place was this crowded because school season was approaching and therefore many people came on the bus at the next stop. Two more stops and they were at the market.

Before Daphne could ask about the crowd that came on, Cleo spoke: "Two-thirds of these people are going to the market. Today is tame. You'll hate it when school starts. The market bus stop is right before our school, so whenever we get on the bus back home, it's always packed."

The tarmac was soon replaced with concrete pavers. The sound of tyres was not smooth anymore but rather crunching. The new pavement was a sign of the nearby market. Daphne scanned the streets with her eyes. A flower shop here. A bookshop there. A little supermarket on the left. A bakery on the right. In some parts, the road seemed to narrow and leave no space for the bus or pedestrians. Sometimes, it appeared someone was about to get run over, but everything was fine. Her eyes were tricking her. The next stop was in a large square surrounding a huge church. The number of people that went down was proportionate to the ones that got on the bus. Once everyone was in, the doors closed, and the bus proceeded towards the next stop, their destination, the market. The board at the bus stop had a list of all the bus stops. The highlight of the bus position was getting closer to the name at the top, the terminal, the school.

The bus was no longer as quiet as it had been when they got on at home. There was chatter among the passengers, each person going about their own business in their way. Some spoke in hushed tones, others spoke loudly, and some didn't speak at all. Some were seated, others were leaning on poles, and some were standing.

As the bus got closer to the market, the people sitting readied their belongings, took their bags and made sure not to leave anything behind; the ones standing didn't move closer to the doors because everyone knew that the bus was going to empty itself once it'd reached the market stop. Above their heads, hanging by the ceiling, was an electronic panel that said the time, the name of the next stop, and if the next stop was booked or not. It was. Someone had pressed the red button placed on the poles, but it wasn't necessary: both the passengers and the driver knew that someone, at least one person, would come down at the next stop.

The large square was round. In the centre was the church while, from each of its non-existent corners, roads led to neighbourhoods, schools—the kindergarten, the elementary, middle, and high schools—and the market. The bus stop was at the beginning of a wide street, an asphalted road that ran through a park. On each side of the street were rows of stands. This place was the liveliest spot in town: people shopped, jogged, read, ate, or simply relaxed in the park.

The doors opened and everyone gradually came down, all heading straight into the street, a wide sign hanging by both sides of it that said "Opes Nostras", Our Wealth—just like the robotic voice announced before the bus doors opened.

—Now playing: Centro di Gravità Permanente by Franco Battiato✫

With arms entangled, Cleo and Daphne walked on. The bus rode to its next destination.

The place was noisy, not what Daphne had been getting comfortable with at home but not foreign to her since just two days ago, she was still in the city where noise was the main accessory.

Each stand offered different things although the majority was about clothes. One sold undergarments, the other vintage jewellery, and one modern jewellery. Some sold fruits, common and exotic ones. Some sold veggies that were most likely collected from the farm the same morning. The stands that sold clothes were also divided into vintage and modern clothing. A stand sold handmade pots and ceramic kitchen tools. They stopped at a stand that sold magazines because Cleo needed a source of inspiration whenever she crocheted. They soon found a stand for school supplies where they remained for a bit. Cleo followed Daphne's list since she hadn't made herself one and was scared about forgetting something.

By the time they left, their bag was almost full, but the shopping wasn't finished yet. Cleo bought herself a pair of sandals, leaving Daphne perplexed. "Summer's basically over. You're not going to use them, so why buy them?" she questioned,

"They're cheap as hell right now because summer's ending. In July, you wouldn't find them at this low price," Cleo explained.

Daphne bought herself another tote bag of her taste uniquely designed with hand-sewn flowers—also because they needed it to carry all their purchases. They bought matching cardigans perfect for the upcoming season. Daphne got herself a few accessories while Cleo bought some beads.

Thanks to Daphne's whines—and the weight of the bags in their hands—they put a stop to their spending and went in search of a restaurant to have lunch at. "Normally, I'd trek to this restaurant, but with these blocks in my hands, I can't so let's wait for the bus." Cleo's explanation made sense. Daphne didn't even dare question it... yet. Almost thirty minutes later, they saw the bus come from their home direction.

"Do you know that maybe we could've been there already if we had trekked?" Daphne complained as the bus was waiting at the red light before coming to the stop. Before she could lay another complaint, Cleo drug her so they could cross the road and go to the other stop, the same one they came down from over an hour ago.

Since the stop after Opes Nostras was terminal, it meant that the bus would be empty and therefore had more free seats for them to have. Daphne complained again, all in good fun, claiming it was useless since their next destination was very close, but Cleo wanted to sit so badly. Exactly, the bus offloaded at Opes Nostras bus stop, so the girls were nearly the only ones on board. The driver quickly took off again, and this time, Daphne and Cleo almost tripped, but they maintained their balance and laughed it off as they took a seat close to the doors for obvious reasons.

—Now playing: Rotolando Verso Sud by Negrita✫

A turn on the left around the church and another on the right and the bus was riding on a road that cut through a very wide plot, entirely reserved for the schools—a neighbourhood strictly for schools. A few meters in, the first school was in sight. By its bright colours, anyone could tell it was the kindergarten. Every kid in the town, whether they lived in the centre or not, came to this kindergarten. Every child from kindergarten to high school came to these schools. In front of the school, across the road, was a wide park designed for the kids. The same went for the elementary school, not so far away from the first one. The middle and high school were further in, the latter placed on a short hill.

But all this is what you see from the terminal, which was just at the beginning of the long road on the right. The bus stopped, opened the doors, and left them like that, allowing more fresh air to rush in. The driver came down for their break while Cleo proceeded with the tour.

"You see that walnut-coloured building with white windows? That's our school. We don't know which floor our class will be on yet but trust me it won't be on the bottom floor. That's for freshman students,"

"Oh, so we're going to be in the same class?" Daphne inquired as she looked at the building, "Yeah, because our class has the least number of students."

The smell of cigarettes recalled Daphne's attention from the school as she searched for the source which she found in the driver who, despite the distance from the vehicle, was smoking but was soon done and came back.

They closed their cubicle, turned the bus on, closed the doors, and took off. As they made a U-turn into the town square, Daphne observed her new school from a slightly better position where she saw the closed gates.

—Now playing: Supernatural by Ariana Grande✫

Once they came down to their destination, what led their feet forward wasn't their brain but mostly the hunger rumbling in their stomachs. Above their heads was the restaurant's name: El Grillo's Cuisine.

After requesting a table, settling down, and ordering their lunch, despite the rumbling that wouldn't stop until food went through their mouth and into their stomachs, Daphne finally committed to observing the place around them.

They were outside, right before the entrance. Above their heads were strings of bulb lights connected from wall to wall, creating the enchanting place you'd gladly dine at in the evening.

The restaurant was just a few steps away from the bus stop in a quiet neighbourhood. It was situated in a fenced plot, entrance marked by a moderately tall gate. A short, flat-stoned path led to the first entrance on the left, passing through a small room that opened up to the courtyard in front of the second entrance. The room had arched doors on both sides. The courtyard was adorned with tables and numerous plants scattered throughout the area. The combination of greenery and the red bricks of the rustic exterior gave the place an oddly cosy and Mediterranean look.

The interior followed the same theme as the exterior: rustic brick walls, arched openings connecting the various areas, vines twisting around the parapets and warm-coloured lighting from wall sconces and pendant lights.

The place wasn't crowded nor completely deserted, or at least that's what Daphne could conclude since she was sitting outside. The tables outside were set in alternated rows of circular and rectangular wooden tables with no covering. In contrast, the inside contained only rectangular ones covered in two mats, one smaller than the other, placed in different angulations. A solid colour one topped by a checked one.

"Guess who owns this— Oh, sorry. I'm dumb. You'd never get it right. This place belongs to the parents of one of the rich kids in our school. This year, they're going to be seniors," Cleo began, furiously munching on the bread already at the table. "There's like this circle of friends, rich as fuck friends. Their parents contribute to the maintenance of the school. They live in the outskirts of town, like we do, but in enormous houses that occupy enormous plots," Daphne's eyes slightly bulged out imagining, "All of them are the combination of hot, cute, sexy and drop-dead gorgeous and I'm not joking or exaggerating. The boys..." she squealed, "Like... they're all so hot especially the one that has dark hair— I mean two over three do but there's this one I find really attractive—"

"Wait, wait, slow down. I'm left at the combination and now you're immediately talking about your crush," Daphne chuckled, "Crush? I can't define him as such yet because I just like his looks. Never got the chance to talk with him,"

"Okay, whatever. So there're three boys..."

"And two girls. The boys are Jungkook, the one I find hot, Taehyung and Jimin. The girls' names are Adrielle, the smartest and prettiest girl of all— Ooh, you've got competition— and Avyanna, a hot and sexy freak like a literal freak. The type of girl to say fuck school, let's party all night and, again, I'm not exaggerating."

"Oh, so they're all hot, sexy and beautiful—"

"And rich," Cleo pointed out, "They have like second, third houses spread around from the countryside to the beach. These kids know each other since they were babies basically so yeah socializing with them is weird and makes you feel immediately like an outcast,"

"Because... you've talked with any of them?" in the meantime, the waiters came with their orders and served them lunch, "Yeah... not exactly though. I heard from a few classmates who trained in the basketball team with the Jungkook. They said that before and after training, the rest of the group is always there and they have a weird aura around them that tells you you're not invited," she explained quickly before going at it with her food.

"Voices then. You're not sure,"

"You wanna make friends with them?" Cleo inquired with her mouth full of pasta, "Not exactly. I just don't like having prejudice." They stopped talking for a few moments to eat a bit before nature was dominant above other things. "You know, Taehyung and Adrielle are crazy smart. Adrielle is the standard of a student who's certainly going to be accepted in an Ivy League school. Taehyung's the same but people say he seems more down to earth and less anxious with it,"

"I'm similar to Adrielle for that. School likes playing with my anxiety—"

"Now, that's the problem. Y'all shouldn't let school be such a big priority and even place it above your mental health. Playing with one's anxiety ain't no fun," Cleo stated before filling and emptying her glass of water, "Yeah... but a good academic performance is what assures me good mental health. I don't know if you get me,"

"No, I don't. There are tons of other things outside of school that can get you feeling happy and fulfilled. For example, you like reading and I guess that brings satisfaction," Celo was multitasking, jumping from downing her food to talking about serious issues to describing her schoolmates. Daphne's hunger seemed to have faded away since she let her food sit longer than her friend did. "It does but I like having a good academic performance as well. Not as much but I certainly do," Cleo simply shrugged because the hunger was too strong for her to put aside and talk some sense into her friend.

"Whatever. So you said they're seniors and you feel attracted to the dark-haired one. You're going to shoot your shot this year? It's your last chance because if they're this stinkingly rich, I bet they'll be going to prestigious universities once they're out of here," Daphne spoke after taking a few bites out of her food. "Yeah... but also no. I don't want to force it and there are no situations that imply me being in the same room with him so I don't know. Probably going to keep it as an admiration from afar."

—Now playing: Over The Moon by The Marias✫

Their shoes crunched the little stones under their feet as they walked out of the restaurant and the neighbourhood. The noise of cars slowly increased the closer they got to the exit.

The weather was warm, perfectly merging with the soft breeze blowing through their hair and calming their body temperature. A little walk after they'd reached the bus stop and sat on the empty bench.

The hour hand was moving away from two. The cars passing by weren't as many as in the morning. The same went with the half-empty bus. The civilians went to Opes Nostras in the morning so after lunchtime, no one was at its bus stop waiting to go home.

For the second time that day, the girls walked down to the extreme back seats, indirectly claiming them. Heavy bags set aside, they didn't indulge in a conversation: Daphne brought the same book she was reading in the morning and Cleo continued working on the project she'd started the previous day. It was like their bodies were set to behave like this after lunch. Enjoying each other company while enjoying their hobbies.

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Spring we need the gem and pearl soulmate meetinggggg it’s literally gempearl week! Or like literally any more updates on the nature lives au im a tad bit obsessed :D

IT'S GEMPEARL WEEK?? omg I have to get this out. Voilà gempearl being soulmates :D it's a little different from the other soulmate meetings but they're special like that. Thank you so much for the ask I'm so so glad you like the au!! You have no idea how excited this made me lol. I hope this works please please don't hesitate to request anything else :D

Pearl’s heart was out of her hands long before they began the game of soulmates.

She could have guessed who her soulmate would be the moment the universe rolled the dice. It wasn’t a question, more like an answer, a definite you are tied to this person that would confirm what Pearl already knew. She loved like she breathed, constantly and needily, and she did not need fate to tell her that.

When she took very little damage throughout the first day, she knew why. When the thud of a shield being hit reverberated through her body, she knew what was happening. When her chest felt light and her face tugged into a smile while she was mining alone, she knew who was offering bright grins to the world like she knew the back of her hand.

She and her soulmate were adventurous people, the both of them touring their walled-off world before starting to settle down. It was only a matter of time before they ran into each other and recognized their unified hearts.

Gem met her with a smile straight from heaven and a tight hug to match. “I was hoping we’d be soulmates!” she said, and even she looked surprised at the admission. Pearl gave her a shoulder bump and didn’t tell her that she knew, she knew they were paired from the first moment.

Pearl tried not to let her gaze wander to Gem’s barely contained curls bobbing in front of her sun-accented face. Her eyes slipped every now and then—she couldn’t help it, not when Gem’s cheeks were dusted pink for no apparent reason. The color suited her, and Pearl couldn’t help but wish she was the one making her that shade.

They were carving out a mine near their barebones base when Gem stopped swinging her pic and turned to watch Pearl. She continued mining a section of stone for a moment, self-conscious, before she gave up and faced Gem with a raised eyebrow. “You’re staring,” she noted. “What’s wrong?”

Gem glanced at the ground, chewing her lip. She met Pearl’s eyes again. “Pearl, can I ask you a question?”

“You’re starting to worry me, but shoot.” The back of her neck started to itch.

“You have to be honest.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Gem sighed, scuffing her feet on the cobble. “Do you– do you like me, Pearl?”

Pearl noticed suddenly how deeply Gem was blushing. Her face was tinted crimson, the darkest Pearl had ever seen on her. Pearl’s heart stuttered, and Gem smiled weakly. This wasn’t a fair question. It was still the question she had expected.

She didn’t answer right away. “Why do you ask?” she whispered. Her voice came out far quieter than she intended.

“I can feel your heartbeat, y’know. It–” Gem glanced away, as if admitting a secret that wasn’t hers to keep– “it speeds up when you’re looking at me. Which, I am so sorry if I misread it, I just thought I should clear the air, and–”

Pearl reached out and touched her arm softly. Gem fell silent, staring at her, pleading. Pearl took a breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

If possible, Gem turned even redder. A nervous smile bubbled up to her face as she rocked back on her heels. “Actually?”

Pearl laughed quietly. “I told you I wouldn’t lie.”

She was certain that if Gem was keeping track of her beating heart, she would’ve felt its drumbeat pattern in accelerando. As it was, neither of them commented on it, the both of them darting looks between each other and the ground, unsure how to proceed. They had matching grins and matching souls, and in that moment, it didn’t matter that they were in a death game. This was the only second that would count.