#spread the deliria

[moldecayarc]

@wkeup​ said:  “you’re still alive? impressive...”   /   resid.ent evil vill.age,  accepting.

          alive.           alive.   alive.   what does that mean?

     he has always been alive.   no matter how far into hell he’s been dragged into and then dragged himself out of,  no matter what god fucking awful situation he ended up in,  ethan has always ended up on the other side still breathing.   worse for wear,  covered in blood and dirt and a combination of various monster fluids,  muscles screaming for a split second of relief  —  but painfully,  painfully alive. 

     it was always for something:  finding mia,  then finding rosemary.   love has always been the strongest and most painful salve,  alongside a fucking immovable stubborn streak that has been in him since he was a kid.   never had he been able to direct it into something before he got married,  taking his vows quite too literally.   in sickness and in health,  til death do us part.

     if the universe did not have a sense of humour,  ethan winters would have died a long time ago.   but it does,  and he did.   a mercy he would never once relive.   mold clings to anything that will feed it,  endlessly resilient in the pursuit of brushing fingers with immortality.   he had to stay alive for mia so the mold did exactly that.   kept its host alive and spread and spread until there were no more lines between what is and what is not. 

          a dead man who believes he is alive can never truly die.

     eyes slowly open and light stings,  a hiss like a steam engine through teeth clenched far too tight.   something pale blurs across his vision,  almost yellow,  blonde.   he is tucked away in a far away corner of his body,  fingers of black mold wriggling their way under his skin.   there is a painful deliria when he tries to think.   the blonde separates into different colours  —  straw,  cream,  pale.   a girl looking down at him.   rose?   no,  not rose.   close enough for him to pretend if he truly wished.   if he could move his lips,  he would have laughed at that comment of hers. 

          still alive.   ethan will always be still alive.

[dinoshaur]

can’t help

title: can’t help characters: kim mingyu x reader genre: romance, drama, dystopia, boy next door, inspired by delirium, song fic warning: suggestive content words: 1125

wise men say, “only fools rush in.” but i can’t help falling in love with you.

it starts with a smile from across the street. you remember the small wave of his hand, the upward twist of his lips. there’s something about the playful glint in his eyes that makes your stomach flip for the very first time.

shall i stay? would it be a sin, if i can’t help falling in love with you?

the brochure lands on your desk when you turn seventeen.

it tells you things you already know - that amor deliria nervosa is a deadly disease, and that you have one more year before taking the mandatory cure. you stare at its innocent blue guise and wonder how far people go to save themselves from feeling pain.

folding the paper, you set it aside with a stiffness in your shoulders. you don’t quite care for this system; your family, all of them having undergone the procedure, seems alright. perhaps this cure really is for the better.

a loud crash from outside your window snaps you out of your thoughts.

the boy from the house across the street, the very same one with the toothy grin, slams the front door behind him, a piece of blue paper sticking out from his clenched fist. when you meet his gaze, you can’t seem to find the twinkle in the brown of his eyes.

and yet, your stomach still continues to do its dance.

like a river flows, surely to the sea.

you catch him throwing stones at your window one night. he beckons you over with a smirk, blood pounding in your ears when he pelts another stone at your head after you refuse. something bubbles up your throat; is it laughter? you don’t know. but somewhere between cursing at the tall boy and dodging stone bullets, you find yourself climbing down the wall of ivy that hugs your house.

he tells you his name at the secret club three blocks away (mingyu, he whispers, leaning close to your ear, my name is mingyu) and you try not to shiver when he repeats yours in a low hum. for some reason, you let this strange boy tangle his fingers with yours, let him lead you around closely pressed bodies. and, with the devil murmuring by your shoulder, you don’t let go.

you get home before the sun rises. there’s a new rush of adrenaline that awakens the nerves in your body, nerves that have laid dormant for one too many years. you don’t know what to call this high - is it a buzz? a giddiness in your bones?

there’s a flash of blue out of the corner of your eyes when you finally slide in through your bedroom window.

if mingyu waits for a wave goodbye, he doesn’t get it. not tonight.

darling, so it goes: “some things are meant to be.”

it turns out that your parents invite the new neighbours over for dinner later that month. when you ask them why, they shrug because it’s important to be nice to people and what if their boy ends up being your match?

(in your room, you think about how being mingyu’s match would mean nothing if you couldn’t feel that buzz when you’re around him.)  

dinner is a quiet and polite affair. but that doesn’t stop him from rubbing his foot against yours, a cheeky smile spreading wide across his face when you flush a deep pink. there’s that incessant churning of your stomach again; your heart feels as though it might be going twenty thousand beats a second.

you show him your small room. mingyu looks out from your window, pointing at his own house in pleasant surprise.

“i didn’t know you could see so well into my room,” he says, “have you been spying on me all this time?”

mingyu chuckles at the pooling warmth in your cheeks and the stutter in your disappearing vocabulary. you stare at him as he squints at every inch of your room, eyes trailing the curves of his face and the twitch of his fingers. a voice niggles at you in the back of your head - memorize him, it hisses, you won’t get another chance.

you’re too busy trying to figure what it means to catch him crossing the room in quick steps. suddenly, his lips are on yours and his hands are caressing your face with a gentleness that makes your gut flip. this is new, so entirely new, that you’re shaking in his arms. mingyu presses you against the wall, softly pressing kisses to your neck as he whispers your name against hot skin.

if this is what amor deliria nervosa is, then god be damned before you let this go.

take my hand,

every midnight, you sneak out of the house, tiptoe across the street and throw pebbles at mingyu’s window. every midnight, he takes you by the hand and you run to the nearest hideout. every midnight, you catch yourself feeling more delirious each time he smiles.

when mingyu tells you he loves you, it’s whispered into your ear like a sinful confession. there are tears in your eyes that he swipes away, worries in your head that he kisses gone.

some days find you stealing secret glances from your bedroom window. other days find you tangled up in his sheets, giggling softly against his warm chest. there are times where you look at the stars together, pointing out constellations and laughing at cheesy jokes. and then there are moments when a wave and a stunted smile from across the drive were all you could get.

when you tell mingyu that you love him too, it’s muffled with pain and heavy with forewarning. there are promises pressed into your neck in the shape of a bruise, fingers tugging off articles of clothing with a flurry of heat.

as he moans your name against the corner of your lips, your mind wanders to the blue brochure sitting on your desk. you realise fate has a very dark sense of humour.

take my whole life too.

you don’t notice the months dwindle down to days.

you don’t notice the surreptitious glances between your parents each time you greet the kims hello.

you don’t notice the crumpled blue brochure sitting at the end of your bed, fished out from the trash.

you don’t notice the door to your bedroom open until it’s too late.

for i can’t help falling in love with you. 

it ends with a scream from across the street. you remember the thrashing of his legs, the furrowed dip of his brows. there’s something about the pleading glint in his eyes that makes your stomach flip for the very last time.

for i can’t help falling in love with you.

[filmflowersbangtan]

Underneath the Diamond Sky

pairing: reader x namjoon

genre: fluff | smut

warnings: Jennie from Blackpink likes girls here. If that’s not your thing, I’m sorry | Explicit sexual scenes 

word count: 6k

summary: In a world where love is considered a disease and pursuing it is against the law, you’re a girl who was always afraid to say or do the wrong thing, despite secretly wanting to know what love feels like. When you meet Namjoon at a party, you finally feel free.

a/n: I do not own the idea of “the deliria” nor do I own any of the lore that comes along with it. I was inspired to write this after rereading “Delirium” by Lauren Oliver a while ago (it’s a good book, I highly recommend!). But this is my first time going into depth on a smut scene, so it may be a little awkward? Anyway, I hope you like!

Every year on your birthday, it always felt like the hottest day of the summer. Today, you were seventeen. Only one more year until you were to have the procedure done just like everyone else when they turned eighteen. Only one more year and then you’d be safe from the deliria, the disease that used to be called “love” many years ago and thought of as a beautiful thing. But in actuality, the deliria was the most deadliest disease of them all, and just like all diseases there was only a matter of time before someone came up with a cure.

Jennie bought you a blue raspberry popsicle, your favorite flavor, instead of a cake since it was scorching outside as the two of you sat on a bench under the shade in Glenn Park. Jennie’s watermelon flavored popsicle was quickly starting to melt and run down her arm. As she licked it up, a man walking by couldn’t help but to do a double take. He was a Cured, but no one was safe from Jennie and her seductive beauty. She enjoyed the attention that she received even though it was dangerous. By her subliminally flaunting her attractiveness so blatantly in public, she could easily be seen by the wrong pair of eyes and sent to a correctional facility for her actions. A girl like her could easily be subject to the deliria, but she didn’t seem to care. She grew up in a rich home with air conditioning, stainless steel kitchen appliances, and real wooden floors. Girls like her didn’t think too much of consequences when the world ate out of her hand.

You and Jennie had been friends ever since you were in grade school. She was the only girl who had dared to talk to you. She was outgoing and talkative where you were quiet and shy. Many people growing up thought you were scary since you barely ever talked, but Jennie brought out the laughter hidden in you. Your parents had always taught you to be quiet and keep your head down, especially since you didn’t have much money and the Regulators liked to target the poor. But hanging out with Jennie kept you safe somewhat. Since she was rich, and her parents were well-known among the community, she could get away with almost anything.

“How do you think you did on your evaluation?” Jennie said after she had licked her arm clean.

You finished up your popsicle, the idea of the juice dripping everywhere not appealing to you. “I don’t know. Good, I think? I answered the questions the way that you told me to.”

She grinned. “Good. Then hopefully that means you’ll get a perfect score like I did.” It was no rumor that Jennie got a perfect ten out of ten on her final evaluation. She got paired with Park Jimin, a boy who also comes from a wealthy family. Jennie had shown you the headshot of him that was attached to her results when she got them in the mail. She was assigned to go to college in New York to become a doctor, and she was arranged to marry him right after she graduated and before she started her career. You couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of her. But even though she was given the best results that anyone could get, she didn’t seem happy. Of course she smiled and held up the paper for a picture when her parents congratulated her, but you knew Jennie. She didn’t like following the rules. She liked illegal music and kissing girls and going to secret parties with boys. But she was six months older than you, which meant that she was six months closer to her procedure. Every day it seemed like she was growing more and more anxious.

“I hope so,” you mumbled.

Jennie sucked what was left off the popsicle and got up to throw it away in a nearby trash bin. You followed her as she motioned for you to come walk with her. On days like this, you liked to walk in the park. You knew the only reason why Jennie did was so that she can pass by the basketball courts where the boys were. Uncured girls weren’t allowed on the courts, just like how uncured boys weren’t allowed to be in the garden. Keeping boys and girls away from one another was how the government limited the risk of the deliria spreading. But that law didn’t work on Jennie. Even though she liked attention from boys, her eyes were only set on girls.

You were each other’s first kiss when you both were fourteen. She said that it was only test before she tried the real thing with her neighbor, a pretty girl named Lisa that she’d been crushing on for a while. You were uneasy about the entire ordeal, but how could you say no to Jennie? No one could say no to her.

The two of you passed by the tall chain-link fence that surrounded the basketball courts. As soon as the boys noticed the two of you passing by, Jennie tossed her hair nonchalantly over her shoulder. You were too afraid to look over at the boys just in case a strict Cured with a habit of turning in misbehaving Uncureds was watching, but you heard someone drop a basketball.

“Live a little, Y/N,” Jennie said. “Look over at one of them. No one will bite you.”

So you did. You immediately locked eyes with a tall, lanky boy. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair and smiled, revealing two dimpled cheeks. You quickly looked away and sped up your pace. Your heart was pounding like you were in gym class, and your ears were as hot as the pavement under your shoes.

“Hey, Y/N! Slow down!” Jennie was jogging to catch up with you. When she saw the look on your face, she erupted in giggles. “Oh my god, you’re so adorable!”

Your face was boiling, and you swore your features were going to melt right off. “Stop!” you shout-whispered. “You’re going to get us in trouble.” You didn’t stop walking until you were finally out of the eyes of the boys and under the shade of a tree, fanning your face.

Jennie rolled her eyes. “You’re not going to get arrested for walking by a group of boys. You didn’t talk to them.”

“Yes, but one of them smiled at me.”

Jennie chuckled. “I keep forgetting how innocent you are. Aren’t you tired of following the rules?”

This wasn’t going to end well. Every time Jennie judged you for being a law-abiding citizen, she always suggested that you do something with her, and you could never decline. It was something about her eyes, or maybe it was the way that you simply didn’t want to disappoint her. She was your only friend, and you’d known her all your life. She wouldn’t ever put you in a situation that could end up with you in jail… Right?

You thought of the time she had you listen to illegal music with her. It was a sweet song about the deliria – but the singer called it love and the way he sung it made something in your chest stir. You didn’t like that feeling. Another time, she told you about the first party that she went to. It was in an abandoned house on the outskirts – no one goes out there, not even the Regulators. She brought you back some alcohol and you drank it with her in her room. Even though your morals screamed at you for breaking the rules, you had to admit that you had fun every time. All Jennie wanted you to do was have fun.

But then she grabbed your hands with a bright grin and whispered, “Go to a party with me!”

Your heart fell right out of your chest and sizzled onto the pavement. “What?”

“You heard me,” she said. Her hands were sticky with juice from her popsicle and sweat, and they were uncomfortably warm. “I only have six months left until I’m going under the blade, and then I’ll be all boring and dead inside from the cure. Six months pass by in the blink of an eye. I know that this is the most dangerous thing that I’ve ever asked of you, but please,” she squeezed your hands, “go with me?”

You glanced around the park. There was a woman sitting on the bench with her baby in a stroller in front of her, pushing it back and forth with her foot as she read a book. A man was feeding ducks by the pond. You wondered if they could hear you both despite the distance between you and them. Sweat trickled down your spine and pricked your hairline. You looked over at a squirrel circling up a tree. Anything to keep yourself from looking into your friend’s eyes and succumbing to her plea.

Everything inside of you was squeezed tight with anxiety. Your brain, your heart on the pavement, even your stomach shouted at you to say no. But you made the mistake of looking back into your friend’s big, brown eyes when she uttered another “please.” You opened your mouth and mumbled, “Okay.”

She squealed and linked her arm with yours. “Yay! Now let’s go get you a cupcake for your birthday, shall we?”

You had never snuck out of your house before. Ever.

Curfew for Uncureds was always nine at night unless there was a holiday, but this was a normal summer night. You lived in a one-story house, so there was no difficulty in climbing out of your window. As soon as you were outside, you had the urge to go back inside. Your veins were thrumming with adrenaline. If you were caught sneaking around out here, you were going to jail. There was no doubt about it.

Jennie was waiting for you at Glenn Park, crouching behind your designated bench. You almost missed her until she whistled. Thank God this community couldn’t afford to keep the electricity running past curfew, so it was dark enough to sneak around, but every single sound scared you as you followed Jennie to the outskirts. The air was thick with humidity and the cacophony of crickets. There was no moon out, but the stars were blinking above. You didn’t have time to enjoy it though because it was so dark that you could’ve lost Jennie if you even blinked too long.

You gasped and held your breath as Jennie grabbed you and hid behind the thick trunk of a tree as a roving Regulator with a flashlight passed by, just barely missing you. He whistled as he sauntered by, and once the sound of his whistling was a little in the distance, Jennie was setting off again. This community that you’ve known all your life was different in the day. Now, it was a dark hell scape, and you hoped that you wouldn’t have to see this ugly side of it ever again.

The two of you finally arrived in the outskirts – a ghost neighborhood of three-story abandoned houses. This place was once beautiful in its heyday, but you weren’t too sure why the people who lived here before had abandoned them so quickly. The good people of your community rarely talked about what happened here and never even set foot here.

“We’re here,” Jennie whispered to you as you both approached a house in the little cove. It looked like a sleeping giant – dark and slouching into itself from years of neglect with hollow windows that looked like dark, unblinking eyes. Jennie led you through the overgrown grass of the lawn and through a hole in the chain-link fence that surrounded the backyard. She smiled at you to comfort you after sensing your unease and knocked on the back door.

It opened with no hesitation. You gasped slightly when you saw a boy standing there. You had never been so close to a boy your age. He was handsome with thick eyebrows and a birthmark on the tip of his nose. “Hey, Jennie!” he said with a smile, like they were old friends and not in an abandoned house doing something completely illegal. “What’s up?” They hugged, which baffled you even more.

“This is my best friend, Y/N. Y/N, meet Taehyung,” Jennie said.

Taehyung directed that dazzling smile your way, and you couldn’t speak.

“She’s a girl of a few words. You’re gonna let us in or what?” She tossed a curtain of hair over her shoulder, and he scrambled to get out of her way, opening the door wider before closing it behind the two of you. “Come on. Party’s in the basement.” Jennie lead you through a derelict kitchen with out-of-date appliances, and as you got closer to the basement door, you could feel the bass of music through the floor. You didn’t have to be a Regulator to know that the music was completely illegal. The approved music only consisted of soft guitars and pianos with no lyrics accompanied unless it was a song about God or the dangers of the delirium.

The music was definitely louder in the basement, and it was so hot down here that the walls were sweating. “Welcome to fun!” Jennie shouted in your ear, shoving a plastic cup of something in your hand. You didn’t see where she got it from, but you trusted her. “Don’t get too drunk, though! We still have to walk home!” And then she disappeared into the mess of bodies that were writhing to the music.

You didn’t know what to do. Should you dance? You didn’t know how to dance. Dancing wasn’t something that people did much in the community. Should you talk to someone? The music was too loud to have a conversation. You ended up with your back against a wall, the drink still in your hand. You’d only been here for about ten minutes, but you were so hot that you had to roll up your shirt to expose the skin of your stomach. You were already dressed in a pair of shorts, but it was so hot. The mysterious drink in your hand was tempting, so you took a sip. It was so sour and felt like fire crawling down your throat. It wasn’t even cool enough to quench anything. You coughed, tears coming to your eyes.

A hand rubbed at the space between your shoulder blades. “You okay?” a voice shouted at you so that you could hear. Once your coughing fit subsided, you nodded slightly, rubbing at your aching throat. “I thought you were a goner for a second there.”

You rubbed the tears away from your eyes with the back of your hand to get a good look at the person. He was smiling at you and it was a smile that you absolutely could not forget. The warmth, along with the dimples, was permanently engraved into your memory. The boy from the basketball courts.

If was even possible, the room had become even hotter. You moved your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out. He was so handsome, and all he was doing was smiling at you.

“I remember you,” he said. “From the park the other day, right?”

You nodded, but it was more like you jerked your head up and down like a robot. “I’m Namjoon.” He reached out with an open hand, waiting for you to shake it.

You finally pulled yourself together and shook his hand. “I – I’m Y/N.”

“Pretty name. Do you want to go somewhere to talk? Somewhere quiet?”

You weren’t sure if that was a good idea. You had never talked to a boy before, especially not alone. Where was Jennie? She would know what to do. You scanned the room for her, only to find her swallowing the face of another girl in a corner.

“Sure. Somewhere quiet would be nice.”

He smiled again and grabbed your hand so that he wouldn’t lose you in the crowd. He guided you upstairs and through the dead kitchen, up another flight of stairs and into a room that must’ve been a bedroom once upon a time. The floor groaned like it hated having feet on it as you walked. The room had a hole in the ceiling, big enough to feel the tinny breeze outside and spacious enough to be able to see the sky embedded with stars.

“I like coming up here when the party starts getting boring,” Namjoon said. “I was just about to leave when I saw you.” He sat down on a bed that had been stripped of all its blankets and pillows. You hesitated by the door, but you decided to sit next to him eventually, leaving a significant amount of space between the two of you.

You craned your neck up to gaze at the stars. “I really like the stars,” you said. You didn’t know why. No one really talked about their likes or dislikes much in day-to-day life because no one felt that personal preferences were important, but for some reason, here at this illegal party past curfew in this abandoned house with this boy, it felt okay to say. Like it was acceptable. Everything about being here was wrong, so talking about things that you couldn’t in other circumstances couldn’t be too bad.

“Me, too. I love astronomy.”

You looked at him, taken aback at how someone could throw out that word so easily with no fear. Love. If someone heard him… But no one here would tell anyone. You wouldn’t. Why would you? How could you without ratting on yourself about even being here?

Namjoon laughed at your expression. “What? Is this your first time hearing someone speak that word? This must be your first time at a party.”

You bit your lip self-consciously and stared down at your lap. “Yeah. It is.”

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s everyone’s first time for something, you know?” He leaned back on his hands and looked up at the sky. “What brought you here in the first place?”

You shrugged. “My friend likes stuff like this, and she wanted me to come along with. I couldn’t say no.”

“Why not?”

“Well, she’s my friend. My only friend. And she just wants me to have fun.”

He was looking at you now, and you quickly averted your eyes. “I think you should say no whenever you want to. Even if she’s your friend. There’s not a lot that you can say no to in a world like this, but you should do it whenever you can.” He sounded somewhat melancholy, and when you looked back up at him, he was staring off into space.

You knew what he meant by “there’s not a lot that you can say no to.” You couldn’t say no to having a procedure. You couldn’t say no to taking the evaluation. You couldn’t say no to your results. No one’s life was really theirs. Now you suddenly understood why Jennie was the way that she was. People had no control over anything, but by breaking the rules, she could control whether she would get caught or not. Whether she had fun or not. The anxiety that she kept buried under her nails only to pick it out when she went to a party or listened to unapproved music was from being forced to have a life that she didn’t ask for. Before, you thought that she was just spoiled. She was given good results, but she wasn’t happy about them. It wasn’t because she wanted better. It was because she wanted to choose her own destiny.

You suddenly felt sorry for your friend. You felt sorry for yourself.

“Have you gotten your results yet?” you asked Namjoon quietly.

He sighed. “Not yet. I take my final eval in September. I honestly don’t want to think about it.”

“Oh. I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

He chuckled, those gorgeous dimples coming out for display. “You’re cute. You don’t have to apologize. I just come to these parties to forget about all that stuff. To have fun. But drinking and dancing isn’t really my thing anymore. I always felt like I was caught uncomfortably between two worlds. I hate the world of ‘boys and girls have to be separated,’ and ‘love is a disease.’ But I also hate this world of trying to let loose by drinking and dancing and being surrounded by sweaty bodies. I always wondered where I belonged, you know?”

You understood. You never realized that you felt like this until it was voiced out loud. Being with Jennie made you feel free somewhat. You didn’t feel suppressed by the world of “watch what you say, be careful of what you do,” but at the same time you didn’t really like all the things that she did. But you had fun with her. She made you happy, but that happiness was always marred by something that you couldn’t understand. The feeling that you didn’t belong.

Namjoon was resting on his back now, watching you. You had the urge to touch him, to discover what a boy felt like.

“Sometimes I want to experience love, just to see what it feels like,” you said without realizing it. “But I had always been too afraid to admit it to myself.” Namjoon made you feel different. Like it was only you and him in this bubble of a room lit faintly by stars. Any other time, you wouldn’t say something like this, and you were suddenly afraid that Namjoon would think that you were weird or dangerous for wishing the deliria upon yourself. Even worse, you called it “love.”

He surprised you by humming in agreement. “Yeah. I’ve been listening to a lot of forbidden music when I’m home alone, and it doesn’t sound so bad.”

The corner of your mouth quirked up into a smile as you thought of that song that Jennie played for you. “Paper Hearts” you think it was called. It was melancholy, but not in a sad way. It was the kind of melancholy that came when something was impossibly beautiful, but you knew that it was only temporary. You wondered if that was what the deliria felt like. No – if that was what love felt like. If it was, it couldn’t have been so bad. It couldn’t have been if the entire human population used to grovel at love’s feet. “It doesn’t sound bad at all.”

Namjoon met your eyes. You didn’t look away this time. There was an electric silence as you held each other’s gazes. The sound of the mattress creaking as he sat up was the loudest thing in the room. His face was so close to yours now. Close enough to feel his warm breath on your skin that smelled sweet like alcohol.

This would be the only time that you would ever be this close to a boy without the threat of being tossed into a jail cell. The only time that a boy could look at you like you were the last drop of water in a barren world and you’d be able to gaze back with no fear. Your hand had a mind of its own as it came up to trace his jaw. His eyes fluttered closed when you rested your hand on his cheek. He was giving you permission. So you closed the gap.

The kisses were hesitant and unsure. He didn’t seem to know what he was doing and neither did you. But you kept going. The kisses were short pecks on the lips. Every few moments you would stop and smile, or he would laugh into your mouth, or you would giggle when your teeth clicked together or when your noses got in the way. This was uncharted territory. You didn’t have a map that showed either of you where to go, but you weren’t afraid. You were drawing one along the way.

His mouth tasted sweet and tangy like strawberries and liquor. His hands were everywhere. One moment they were in your hair, the next on your back, and then your neck. The kisses deepened, his tongue finding a way into your mouth, licking around your own, making a home of you. A moan bubbled up from your throat, and he swallowed it hungrily.

You may never see this boy again. You may never have this feeling in your chest again. This bubble that you are suspended in will have to pop soon, and you want to float in it for as long as you can.

You pulled away, and he chased your mouth, grazing your bottom lip between his teeth before letting go. He searched your eyes, finding lust and yearning swirling there like a brewing thunderstorm. “I want this,” you whispered, balling your hands in his shirt.

He swallowed thickly and licked his lips. “Are you sure? I mean… Will this be your first time?”

“It’s everyone’s first for something.”

He smiled, leaning forwards to plant kisses on your forehead, your cheekbones, and the tip of your nose. “You’re right,” he said, his breath a tickle on your skin.

He grabbed at the hem of your shirt. You lifted your arms as he pulled the material above your head, kissing your collarbone. His forefinger trailed up the ridges of your spine, making you shiver. He let you take off his shirt, and you traced your fingers over his shoulder, down the dip between his pectorals, across his protruding Adam’s apple, leaving a trail of goosebumps in your wake.

Neither of you rushed. He was in no hurry as he lay you down on your back onto the mattress, his mouth kissing everywhere there was exposed skin. Time didn’t exist in this bubble of yours.

He pulled off your shoes and you kicked off your socks. You giggled as you watched him above you, fiddling with the button and zipper on your shorts, his hands trembling slightly. You didn’t know why you were so calm, but you were glad. All your life you were nervous about something. Worrying if you would catch the deliria or if you said something wrong or if you would ever get caught doing something that you weren’t supposed to. But this time, you were at ease. This felt right.

He kissed the supple skin of your thighs, the hard bone of your ankle, and tickled the sole of your foot with the tips of his fingers. You squirmed, almost kicking him in the face, and he let out a breathy laugh. The denim came off, and now you were in just your underwear and bra. He was hovering above you, still dressed from the waist down. His bare stomach was pressed against yours, your legs tangled with his. His fingers twisted in your hair, your hands roaming the smooth plane of his back. Lips on your throat, careful not to leave any marks there, but not so careful when it came to the skin around your breasts that wasn’t concealed by your bra.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed. Something in his jeans was pressing against your thigh. Your underwear was growing sticky between your legs. You couldn’t wait anymore. You wanted him – no, needed him – to touch you down there. Anything to relieve the insistent throbbing.

You gently pushed his shoulders and told him to lie on his back. He obliged and waited on his elbows after kicking off his shoes, gazing at you with low-lidded eyes as you unbuttoned his jeans. He lifted his hips as you slid them off. A conspicuous bulge was there in his boxers, and he whined when you touched it. Liking the sound, you rubbed him generously in that spot. He moaned, causing a flower of fire to lick in the pit of your stomach. You kissed up his right leg starting from his ankle and ending that the hem of his boxers, doing the same on his left leg. His abdomen tightened with want each time you got close to that aching spot between his legs.

“Y/N,” he moaned softly. “Please.”

You kissed him on the mouth. “Okay.”

The mattress groaned and squealed as the two of you changed positions, you on your back and him above you. You stayed like that for a while, looking into each other’s eyes. You leaned up, almost touching noses with him and unclasped your bra, letting it slide off your arms and tossing it to the floor. He swallowed a gasp. You smiled. He reached down between your bodies while kissing your breasts, his hand slipping under the waistband of your underwear. Your back arched and you gasped into his mouth. You dug your nails into his back as his fingers rubbed down there, first in slow circles, then in faster figure eights.

“Namjoon –” you choked out.

“Do you like this?” he said in your ear, nibbling gently at it.

You jerkily nodded, hiccupping. He pushed a finger slowly, slowly, slowly up into you. You squirmed at the foreign feeling. The pressure was uncomfortable at first, but you were slick enough down there for it to start feeling good in no time. He was watching you, his mouth open, his eyes trained on your face. He continued to ask if you felt good, if you wanted another finger, if this was okay. Kissing and licking at your nipples, sucking hard enough to bruise but gently enough to not hurt. You ran your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp, gripping tight when he grazed a certain spot in you that made the flame in your lower belly expand into a wildfire.

Once you started to feel overwhelmed, you grabbed at his wrist. “I want you,” you said. “All of you.”

He smiled and licked off the moisture that you left on his hand. You watched as he pushed off his boxers, and you pulled down your underwear, unable to bear it any longer. You had never seen a penis before in your life, and health class didn’t count. The head of it was flushed like his chest and cheeks, glistening softly with a white liquid that kind of looked like glue. You wanted to touch it, so you reached out and timidly grazed the length of it with your fingertip, bringing your finger to your tongue after scooping up some of the semen there. Namjoon shivered deliciously.

He settled on top of you again, pushing his wet fingers into your mouth. You sucked like they were a blue raspberry popsicle gifted to you on your birthday. A string of spit connected to his fingers when he removed them, and it broke as he moved to give his cock a few pumps with the moisture, never taking his eyes away from yours.

“Are you ready?” he said, pushing the head of his member over your folds, making the both of you shiver with anticipation.

“Yes,” you said. “Yes, I’m ready.”

Namjoon pushed himself into you, slow enough to help you adjust with trembling hands. You both moaned into each other’s mouths. While waiting for you to get comfortable to his girth, he kissed you all over your face like he was savoring you. You spread your hands out on his back and opened your legs a little further for him to get more comfortable. He gingerly began to move at your command. It must’ve immediately felt good to him by the way that he threw his head on your shoulder and began to pant.

“Fuck,” he whispered in delight.

There was a slight pain at first, but the pleasure was spiking more and more, causing you to dig your nails into his skin, wanting more. You wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting him to go deeper. Wanting him to melt into you.

You moaned and cried his name as he moved slightly faster, his penis twitching inside of you. The mattress whined underneath your bodies, the headboard knocking in tune with your amateur pace.

“Oh, Y/N. Oh God, you feel so beautiful around me,” he choked out. His sweaty hair on the side of your face, your skin sticking to his wherever it touched. You could hear the squelching noise of him moving inside of you. You could smell yourself. You never wanted this to end.

The fire was roaring inside of you. Namjoon shoved his hand down between you again, rubbing viciously at something at the top of your slit and you were about to –

Electricity raged through you. You squeezed your eyes shut, seeing stars behind the darkness of your eyelids. Your body twitched through the waves of ecstasy rolling over you.

“You look so beautiful when you come,” Namjoon said. He gritted his teeth; his movements were becoming jerky and stiff. You were oversensitive, and it was almost starting to hurt. But then he pulled himself out of you, sat back on his heels, and pumped his cock at a feverish pace. You watched him in awe – his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, his eyebrows scrunched together with determination. And then he moaned up at the stars, long and raspy as thick ropes of white spurted out from him, coating his hand and your stomach.

He settled down beside you, exhausted. Your skin was still buzzing, you head feeling light.

“Wow,” he said with a smile.

“Yeah,” you sighed in content.

The both of you were completely bare to sky above you. The stars winked and watched, silently swearing to keep your secret. Namjoon got up out of bed as the mattress protested to find something to clean you up with. He eventually found an unused pillow case in the neglected dresser, using that the wipe off his hand and your stomach. He joined you back on the bed, unable to keep his hands off you and you unable to keep your eyes open.

Your skin felt warm surrounded by Namjoon’s arms. You didn’t realize that you had drifted off to sleep until you opened your eyes to Namjoon shaking you awake. “Hey,” he said, giving you that beautiful, dreamy smile. Your stomach tightened then, like you were excited about something. “It’s going to be morning in a few hours, and your friend is going to be looking for you soon. I would’ve waken you up sooner, but you were sleeping so peacefully.”

You rubbed your eyes and kissed him. He smiled into the kiss but pulled away. This time it was you chasing his lips. “I guess this is where we part?” you said, and you were sadder about that than you thought.

He didn’t say respond for a moment, opting to push some hair out of your face and behind your ear instead. “Let’s get dressed.”

He dressed first, and you watched him with longing. He smiled when he noticed you watching and handed you your clothes. After you both were dressed, you both stood under the hole in the roof, examining each other’s faces in silence, trying to store your faces in your memories. Hoping to not forget. He played with your fingers, interlacing his with yours. You touched his face, pressing a finger in the dip of his dimple when he smiled.

“Don’t forget me,” he said.

The bubble around you was wobbling, threatening to pop any moment.

“I wish this dream could last a little longer,” you muttered.

He pinched your cheek cutely. “This isn’t a dream, my angel.”

You giggled, and he smiled. “I wish…” You didn’t finish your statement because you weren’t sure what you were wishing for. Wishes didn’t come true. Wishes weren’t something that would easily be granted.

But he said, “I know. Me, too.” And he kissed you on your forehead.

You knew that you had to go look for Jennie. That you had to start heading home. “One last kiss?”

One last kiss turned into another and another and another until Namjoon said, “Okay, okay. You have to get going.”

Your fingers were still interlocked with his as you made your way for the door, and you continued to hold his hand until your arms could stretch no father and you were forced to let go.

“Y/N,” he said.

You turned back. “Yeah?”

“Will I see you again?”

You weren’t sure, but you gave him an answer anyway. “Someday.”

Despite the heaviness in your chest, he smiled at you and you couldn’t help but to smile back.

You climbed back through your window and took a shower before taking a quick nap. Your mom woke you up for breakfast, and last night truly felt like a dream. As you picked at your food, you couldn’t help but to think about Namjoon and if you’d ever see him again. Going to a party every week like Jennie didn’t seem very feasible to you, but that was the only way that you’d be able to have access to him. It was too risky. Just because you got lucky last night didn’t mean that it’d be like that every week. You weren’t like Jennie. You didn’t have rich parents to sweet talk your way out of a jail cell. And what if he didn’t even go to the parties every week? What was the point in going to one if Namjoon wasn’t going to be there? What if one of the parties was raided by Regulators?

Your chest ached in a way that you’d never felt before.

“Y/N? Are you okay? You’re barely eating anything,” your mom said with a concerned expression on her face.

You shook your head. “Oh, I was just thinking about a test that I have to study for that’s coming up on Monday,” you lied. The bubble was no longer protecting you from time and scrutiny. It was time to return to reality. You had to put the mask back on and remember to not let it slip.

Your mom seemed pleased with your answer as you forced the scrambled eggs in your mouth, even though you couldn’t taste them.

-

That night, you sat by your window and looked up at the stars that winked at you as if saying, We remember. It wasn’t a dream. We hold your secret safe.

You sighed and got up. Since you couldn’t sleep, you decided to do laundry. The shorts that you wore to the party smelled like sweat and something salty. You turned the pockets inside out, only for a small slip of folded paper to fall out into your hand. Not sure when you’d ever put something in your pockets that night, you dropped your shorts to unfold the paper. After reading the small, neat writing, your heart hiccupped in your chest:

Love doesn’t sound bad at all. 

[dat-town]

A love forgotten

Characters: Chanyeol & You

Setting: delirium au

Genre: angst

Summary: Living in a world in which love is prohibited, you are lucky enough if you get along well with your assigned spouse but falling in love with them? That’s the biggest mistake of all.

Words: 2.1k

For @lily-blue. I know you requested it a long time ago so sorry for the wait but I hope you like it!

Pain in the chest, throat, or stomach

Difficulty swallowing and breathing

Erratic behaviour

Violent thoughts and fantasies

Hallucinations and delusions

 These are the severe symptoms during the third phase of amor deliria nervosa, a deathly disease hunting for you from the moment you reach the verge of adulthood. You have been taught both in school and at home how to diagnose it and that you absolutely, without exception have to report it to authorities if you see anything suspicious that might be caused by this absolutely horrendous disease.

You saw the way it changed people, totally turned them inside out, you saw the damage it did on families and the society itself. Yet, you know nobody can feel themselves falling ill until it’s too late because of this delirious feeling heavy on their chest. It’s like cancer, spreading fast but rather than infecting your health, it’s affecting your brain and sanity. Once it gets you, you can’t think straight. That’s the only sensible reason for not caring about being sick, for thinking that being in love is a majestic and blissful emotion instead of begging for the cure. When you catch cold, you take vitamins and drink tea then why don’t you now? Why are you questioning the society and the core idea of its system?

Love is wrong. That's what they said and you believed it wholeheartedly, without doubt. You heard the stories and you were so afraid that it would cause your downfall, too. But now, with a three-pronged needle against your neck, you can't find it in you to deny this feeling. This mistrust against your own government, their methods and their lies.

Love is wrong, they told you but now, you know better.

 Just a month before getting the Cure, the mandatory brain surgery after you turn eighteen, you were notified who will be your future husband based on the evaluations of your government. The white envelope containing all kind of data of your future someone makes your throat close up in nervousness as you open is hastily. You take a big breath before pulling out the printed paper about your result, his results and the proof of your compatibility. Most of your approved matches ranked with 8 points out of 10 just like you did during your evolutions so obviously, you thought that the "winner" would one of those guys. However, your heart skips a beat when you see the name of the 7 points guy. Park Chanyeol.

The name itself is familiar; you don’t even have to check on his picture to know who he is. You know him from Chemistry class. He’s tall, smart, looking a bit nerdy with his thick framed glasses but utterly cute when his ears redden in embarrassment. He’s a nice guy, he will probably get a good job and you two can buy a pretty house in a nice neighbourhood. The perfect husband. Not like you had any say in it but you were okay with your chosen one and you hoped he feels the same.

Little did you know that Chanyeol had been sick ever since you helped him pick up a few dropped books in the corridors and looked into his eyes with your mouth curved into a shy smile...

 Boys and girls are segregated from birth in everyday life. The government doesn't like taking risks so they try to minimize every possible interaction between the opposite genders. However, your town, being pretty small, only has one high school and one Chemistry teacher so an all-boy and all-girl class is hardly an economically reasonable thing to do. It doesn't really matter anyway. The surveillance system keeps an eye on the students and the principle basically knows everything you do so it isn't possible to even talk with guys outside of the class without teachers accompanying you to the head teacher's office.

So meeting and actually talking with Chanyeol outside of class was a first when your parents set up a date for you after the announcement of your match. Since both of you were scheduled to go to university based on your points, your wedding’s date was set after your bachelor degree graduation. It seemed like a long time but you were glad that you would have time to adjust to a life with him before actually marrying him. Not that you had any other choice. There was no such thing as breaking up or divorcing in a world like yours. Those scary words only existed in rumours because all of these worthless, painful feelings were washed away by one single stink of a needle. No more sweaty palms and erratic heartbeat waiting for a boy to arrive and sit down with you over a nice dinner.

Real salvation.

You wore your prettiest dress with a purple ribbon around it but ended up being so embarrassed about putting so much effort into this that you left your hair messy just to compensate. However, Chanyeol arrived in a suit and with a bouquet of flowers and he was being a blabbering, blushing mess as he couldn’t find the words to compliment your outfit. "Thanks," you smile at him shyly, saving him from further suffering. Both of you were so nervous, however, while Chanyeol could barely utter a sentence to order food, you couldn’t shut up. You went on and on about childhood memories, future plans, favourite activities and interests and finding out that you did actually have a lot in common was kind of nice.  He started to open up when you talked about music and you enjoyed breaking down his shell. Going on a few dates with him before being officially paired up by some authority was maybe your parents’ best idea ever. By the time, you asked for the bill, you were far from being awkward strangers.

"Can... When can I see you again?" Chanyeol asked and even though he towered over you in height, it didn't feel belittling at all. The way he looked down at you, the stars glittering in his orbs made you want to stand up to your toes and… And what? The thought itself was ridiculous.

"Tomorrow. At Chemistry," you smiled cheekily, nibbling on your lower lip and the boy laughed light-heartedly but genuine. He had a really nice laugh, you mused with your heart pounding. "You know what I mean," he pouted and you giggled. Of course, you knew.

So for the next date, Chanyeol brought a guitar and he took you to the park to have a picnic. It was perfect and for the time being, you had the name of your evaluators in your prayers because you were really grateful. The pair of you two really fit. Still, you didn't talk about marriage and other ‘important’ stuff but both of you enjoyed each other’s company. Even your acquaintances said you are a match made in heaven. So why did the compliment taste bitter for you?

The answer didn't come easy but eventually you had to accept the truth: that you didn't want your relationship being fabricated by laws and regulations. You wanted spontaneity, real feelings and ah, the fantasies of a young adult. You were being selfish for wanting all that.

But you were not the only one selfish…

“Do you think everybody feels like this?” you dared to ask The Question out loud while leaning onto Chnyeols frame during a movie. You could feel his bony body going rigid under yours and your breath hitched as his was trembling.

“Like what?” he wanted to know the details, asking carefully not to scare you but the big question marks in the air were already doing their job. You mind ran overdrive: What if he will report you for acting strangely, for talking about feelings, for getting intimate and holding his hand during the family dinner last time? But the scariest question of them all: what if he doesn't feel the same?

Maybe it was really the sickness, this panicky feeling choking you and suddenly, you couldn’t breathe. Tears pricking your eyes you had to stand up, detaching your body from Chanyeol’s and you wanted to run very far away.

But just before you could get away from him, Chanyeol grabbed you by the elbow and gently tugged back to face him. You looked down bashfully, not being able to meet his eyes, not until you felt his breath fanning over your cheek.

“You meant this fever every time we touch? Or the flowers that bloom in my heart just by seeing you smile? Or maybe the dreams about you and missing you even if I just saw you?” he whispered against your hot skin and you couldn't help but shiver. Your heart was screaming yes, yes, yes eagerly but you felt like fainting because your brain knew you shouldn't have felt this way. Something unexplainable took over you and pressing closer, you brushed your lips against his feeling the touch of a kiss (something only Cured people are allowed to do) and ah, breaking the rules has never tasted so sweet.

 You were in love, you didn’t even wanted to deny it but the society wouldn’t ever accept that. So you planned to run away with Chanyeol, living outside of the walls, in the land of Invalids and Uncureds. You were supposed to act like you were nothing more but an assigned couple until the day of your surgery came. The Cure that would taken your feelings away. Once it seemed like salvation, now it was a nightmare. You didn’t want to lose this, whatever it was you and Chanyeol had.

Your escape plan was perfect: meeting up for a dinner the day before your big day, because it was nothing surprising by now and then, just before curfew you would take a walk around the neighbourhood. When the clock hit ten, you both would have grabbed your stuff and made a run for it. Together for a now life.

No matter how careful you were, somebody was bound to notice the changes, you just didn't expect your own sister betraying you like this. Calling the guards on you just before your date.

“No, please, I swear I’m not sick,” you shrieked at the guards grabbing and tossing you towards the door. Ugly sobs shook your whole body.

“How could you?” you yelled at you sibling standing in the corridor holding the backpack you prepared for running away in her hands.

“It’s for your good. You are sick, they will cure you. Everything will be fine,” she tried to soothe you, eyes sad and disappointed, but it only mad you want to throw up.

“No! You might just kill me with this,” you were mumbling as they took you away to force the procedure on you.

 The hospital is ugly and smells weird. The room’s wall are white where you are and tied to a chair you sit still while doctors and guards are gathering around you. It's almost funny, six adult men making sure that you don't do anything stupid with your 154cm. You have no idea what they are waiting for, not until the door burst open and they bring Chanyeol in, too.

“No,” you scream helplessly watching as they tie the drugged boy to the chair next to you just like they did with you. You can barely move but you manage to grab his hands and that makes him turn towards you. You see your own emotions mirrored in his grieving dark eyes as you try to fight back but it’s in vain. You are outnumbered by the guards holding you down firmly, not letting you go as the doctors work.

“I love you,” Chanyeol confesses suddenly, but with his cracked voice it sounds more like a goodbye.

“I love you, too,” you turn your head towards him, tears already rolling down your face.

You are holding hands, as tightly as you can while the surgeons inject the serum into both of your skin, just under your right ears. Your heart is beating like a drum, panicked, excited, sad and in love. Yet, they just call you lovesick and want to cure you. What cure, you laugh dryly as you let your hand fall and welcome the darkness.

 Next time you open your eyes, the void of feelings greets you, the absolute emptiness and looking at the boy still asleep next to you feels like meeting a stranger. With hazy memories you glance around the hospital room, hand itchy and when you look down on it you see one single scribbled sentence written with ink on your palm.

Please, fall in love with him again.

Huh, what a stupid, dangerous thing to write, you think to yourself and hurry to wash it down before anybody sees. Too bad you can’t erase it from your mind whenever you look into your fiancé’s emotionless eyes.

[yoongisbbydoll]

temerity, (m.)

⇢ pairing ─  min yoongi, reader

⇢ genre ─  domestic 

⇢ length ─  1,676 words

⇢ warnings ─  smut, overstimulation

⇢ synopsis ─  Fuck game night--if you know what I mean.

Game night means a house full of rowdy boys and no sleep. The whole house is awake, almost all the lights turned on, shouts of joy and anger bouncing through the empty hallways. You dread this night every time it comes around, but each time, Yoongi makes a promise. “If my team wins, I’ll fuck you like we’ve never done before.” He says each time before opening the front door, welcoming in his friends.

They all wave and smile, team colors painted across their faces and clothing. You would be kind for the first hour, delivering snacks and sitting on the opposite couch, acting interested. Then as soon as the game picks up speed, you sneak away to the basement and work yourself on the elliptical until your legs are numb.

Unlike Yoongi and his friends, you prefer to spend your time watching heart wrenching dramas, frightening thrillers, or comedies that have your stomach muscles toned within the first ten minutes. It’s easy to forget about game night with your headphones suited over your head, volume up all the way, first episode of a new drama propped in front of you, elliptical humming away beneath you.

Two episodes or one movie is your maximum, but even then, game night upstairs is still going on. So, you take your sweaty ass up two flights of stairs—which seem more like hell after a long workout—and hop into a cold shower. Even with the water beating down on you like pouring rain, it isn’t enough to drown out the screams coming from your living room.

You roll your eyes, keeping Yoongi’s promise in mind as you wash up. When you hop out the shower, the house is silent. A few lights have been turned off, but for the most part, the house is still lit up like a jack-o-lantern on Halloween. The television continues to blare phony commercials, audible on all floors. You worry your neighbors will call a noise complaint to the police station.  

You patter to your bedroom, pushing open the door. Your eyes land on the bed. Yoongi is dressed up in his football gear, shoulder pads and helmet and all. You can see him smirking through the facemask of the large helmet. “Guess who won?” Yoongi asks playfully from the bed, spreading his legs just a little bit wider.

Without replying you head to the closet, holding your towel tightly around your body. Yoongi, in shock at your blatant disregard, doesn’t move from the bed. You quickly change and return to the bedroom, crossing your arms at the foot of the bed. “Will you move? I’m exhausted.” You bark, your voice is harsh and a cold chill runs through the room.

“Baby—” Yoongi tries, but you shake your head and climb into bed as he shuffles off.

“Don’t baby me. Ever since we moved here, all you care about is work, football, and sleep. In that exact order. So why don’t you go to sleep, it’s next on your list anyways.” You huff, pulling the sheets up over your shoulders.

Yoongi pounces on the bed, springs squealing. He moves to hover over you. “Are you forgetting my promise?”

“What promise?”

This time, Yoongi grips your jaw, pulling it and forcing you to face him. But your eyes wander to the side of the room, focusing on the wall. Yoongi, with one hand, pulls off the helmet, tossing it to the floor where it lands with a dull thud. The sheets are pulled back and Yoongi runs his hands up and down your sides. “I have something new in mind, but I’m only going to do it if you let me.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not convinced this is going to be any fun for me. Now, will you let me sleep?” Most of your sexual adventures have led to Yoongi’s gratification and your disappointment. He always makes sure to finish you off, but for once it would be nice for you to be the one receiving most of the pleasure, not the other way around.

“How can I convince you?” He hums, cheek grazing yours as he nuzzles into your hair. Yoongi bites down on your earlobe, then just under your ear, slowly making his way down the low collar of your shirt.

Without a moment of hesitation, Yoongi pulls back and slips under your shirt. He begins to leave a trail of hickies down your chest, between the valley of your breasts, stopping just below your navel. He peaks out from under your shirt with a smirk, “Shall I continue?”

You nod your head shamelessly, closing your eyes as Yoongi slips your panties down your thighs and then forces your legs open. He presses his lips to your slit, daringly poking his tongue out to tease you. For a second, Yoongi doesn’t do anything, just stares up at your face with a neutral expression. But before you can blink, he’s got your legs over his shoulders and his face pressed between them.

Slick tongue rolling over your clit, lips suckling on the sensitive skin. You knot your hands in his hair, tugging on the dark strands, arching your back. Yoongi slips a hand between your legs, using his thumb to circle the sensitive bundle of nerves while his tongue explores your glistening cunt. Pleasure is a soft wave, coming over you slowly. Every stand of hair, down to the tips of your toes that curl in delight. Heat pools in your stomach, you become tunnel visioned, all you can focus on is chasing your high.

Yoongi pulls away, your slick heat gleaming against his chin. He wipes it away with his sleeve before sitting up between your legs, holding them apart with his own. He slips the football jersey over his frame, letting it clatter to the floor. Next come the shoulder pads, shorts, boxers. Once he’s completely bare, he returns to his position, hovering over you.

He leans down towards you, and at first you think he’s going to kiss you until you feel the tip of his cock just barely touching your entrance. Yoongi smirks, “Safe word?”

You shake your head, arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him to you. Yoongi’s cock slips inside of you, and he lifts your right leg up, using the angle to push into you all the way. Your lips slip away from his, deliria tugging at your heart strings.

Your moment to adjust to Yoongi comes to and end and he picks up a voracious speed, skin slapping skin. The color behind your closed eyes is magenta as Yoongi relents inside of you. You try your hardest to stay level headed, but it’s impossible with Yoongi’s lips attacking just below your jaw, his cock swiftly moving in and outside of your tight cunt.

Breaths choppy and hindered, Yoongi comes inside of you. But he doesn’t quit, even after you clench around him. You come slightly after, digging your nails into his brawny arms. Your breaths are harmonious and Yoongi stares down at you with twinkling eyes, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. You reach up and push his hair out of his eyes as he continues his belligerent movements inside of you.

Pain begins to sear in the pit of your stomach and you groan. You wonder how the pain could be so pleasurable, but you give into the sensation of Yoongi ravaging your body like never before. All too quick, you find yourself coming to our second high, symphony of Yoongi’s name slipping past your swollen lips.

Yoongi quickly follows, and, much to your surprise, he doesn’t halt. You wonder where this sudden burst of energy is coming from but he keeps going, hot breaths fanning over the side of your neck as he comes down from his second orgasm.

He pulls out of you, hands wrapping around the base of his aching cock. “Yoongi?” You sit up on your forearms, staring at his pained expression as he tightens his grip.

“Give me a second,” he holds up his other hand.

You tilt your head. Yoongi lets out a deep sigh then looks up at you, eyes wild. His hand wraps around your neck, pulling you towards him. His lips connect with yours, teeth clashing sloppily as he uses the momentum to force you to straddle him.

You barely notice as he slips his cock into you again, too caught up with his tongue sliding dauntingly over yours.

Yoongi begins snapping his hips up to yours and you pull away, scrunching your eyes closed as heat coils in stomach once again. Your body slumps over Yoongi’s, spent from working out and Yoongi’s rough movements. You try to tighten around Yoongi but pain spikes inside of you, somehow converting into something pleasurable.

A volcano of pain and pleasure bubbles in the pit of your stomach, you lean your forehead onto Yoongi’s shoulder, panting. Please, please, please, you beg. For what, you’re not entirely sure, but your body longs for another release and Yoongi slips his hand between your intertwined bodies.

Quickly after his nimble fingers reach your swollen clit, pain floods the entire bottom half of your body. Your legs shake and your walls clench around Yoongi so tight he can barely feel himself think. His slips out of you, cum dripping onto the bed.

You lay on Yoongi for a moment longer, trying to regain your composure. But as soon as you try to move, your legs completely give out.

Yoongi chuckles, rubbing circles into the small of your back. “Was I too rough on my babygirl?” He whispers in your ear, “Maybe we should come up with a signal.”

You shake your head, “I’m okay, I just need a minute.”

He hums in sarcastic agreement, slowly rolling you onto your side. He plants a kiss on your forehead before slipping away. When he returns with new clothes and something to clean you up, you’re already passed out.

A smirk tugs on Yoongi’s lips, “I was that good—huh?”

note : inspired by this request. this is the longest thing i have written in awhile, and even if it isn’t extremely long, it means a lot to me. 

Thank you for reading! Read more from me, July, here. 

[dressedlikedaydreamss]

"There's no point in looking back...."

[takenoteofthelittlethings]

I love you. Remember. They cannot take it.

So our professor in literature asked us to make a five-stanza poem, 4 lines each. I instantly thought of The Delirium trilogy as our prof announced it to the class. So here's what I was able to produce:

If love were a disease Would you take the cure? Safety and happiness I'm not yet sure If love were a disease Under the silver moonlight Can we dance, please? I dare say yes, with all my might! If love were a disease For being untrue Forgive me please But I like you If love were a disease Should you run away with me? We'll cross the borders and seas Just to set you free If love were a disease Would you take the cure? I don't know how this ends I love you. That's the only thing I am sure

  Okay. I know this sucks but whatever I just love the trilogy so much that one day, I will hand down my own copy of the trilogy to my child and she will past it to her child and to the child of her child and so on and so forth. Thank you Ms. Lauren Oliver for giving the trilogy to us! You rock! :)

P.S.: If you see any errors in my work please feel free to send me a message. I still feel something's wrong with the lines (either too long or does not rhyme). :/ 'cause I'm no poet.Thank you! :)

[sarah95-m]

I have finished requiem and I don't quite know what to do with my life

[dasfans]

Delirium

Invalids:: You can also go on Facebook to the fox page and comment under their show’s post to get people curious about the Delirium show! #SpreadTheDeliria

We have to get this show on Tv!

[bluebox-of-herondale-blog]

I need the Delirium TV series now!! :D

[thedeliriumtrilogy]

Here we are again, Invalids! The details are pretty much clearer at the title / link above, but we are needed again to support the TV show, the cast, the staff and most especially, Lauren Oliver.

@JuustMel made another project for the show to be picked up by FoxTV ... with a twist! Starting today (April 15) until Saturday (April 19), we could send our 10-second video of us telling the world why would we want Delirium to be picked up by FoxTV, what's the best thing about Delirium, why do we love Delirium, which team are we or something we want to say to Lauren about Delirium.

Details are on the link. We can do this again, Invalids!