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#if this posts twice my bad HAHA
wolfythewitch · 28 days
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Look at the sky. It's looking back.
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time-slink · 2 years
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ended up coloring that sketch from the other day,, mr grian of the double life variety
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worri-wort · 11 months
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100 Followers Celebration?!?!
Hey hey hey!! I've been away in the trenches finishing this school semester, and now that I'm back, there's over 100 of you guys? HOLY SHIT!!! I never expected to get to 100 followers so fast. Thank you everyone so much!! While I am still a little busy, I really want to celebrate this milestone... but I'm bad at decisions. So I'm leaving fate in your hands!! Vote in the poll below and in a week I'll make a proper celebration post depending on which option wins. Again, thank you all so much, I'm really looking forward to making and posting art for you all to see!!
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vampyrsm · 1 year
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here is your daily reminder that bnha is actually all of midoriyas memories leading up to what will most likely be the day he dies — where he will be known as the greatest hero
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frozenambiguity · 1 year
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Very long Initial thoughts and first impressions on the Caribert Archon Quest in the tags. Spoiler alert!! Part 2!
#{{ my tags for my last post were so long they got DELETED. SMH }}#{{ anyway; this is me trying to remember what I wrote ------- }}#{{ ---- but about the abyss mage in diluc's introduction }}#{{ kaeya sensed his presence. and he distrusted the mage; but he was not defensive. nor offensive. he stood there; analyzing; before }}#{{ directly addressing the mage. he communicated with him. in contrast to diluc; who didn't think twice about obliterating the guy }}#{{ kaeya has always been one who supposedly 'remains neutral' while playing with both sides. }}#{{ just recall one of his letters to diluc informing him about the site of the abyss order's activity. he definitely knows more than }}#{{ an average person about them }}#{{ so don't @ me with this 'oh this is new haha khaenri'ah? what is that??? idk i don't have any links to it' bs; hoyo }}#{{ I want to believe that you haven't forgotten about Kaeya as a character and his motivations. don't do this to him }}#{{ which is why I choose to believe that this interaction was an act. }}#{{ ... telling me there is no link whatsoever when precisely most of what caused Kaeya pain and torment was that precise link... }}#{{ aka having to choose between mondstadt or khaenri'ah /// the good side or the bad side }}#{{ or the fact that he was a KHAENRI'AH SPY placed in mondstadt........ }}#{{ so don't tell me Kaeya does not have any feelings towards Khaenri'ah }}#{{ if he hadn't; he would not have ran away as a kid to sumeru; trying to learn more }}#{{ anyway. these are my thoughts for now. i'll update more as I continue playing }}#{{ as these only reflect the kaeya/dain interaction }}#【 out of cryo 】
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risaonda · 11 months
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got woken up by a spam text at 6 in the morning and now I can't fall back asleep 😋
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chryblossomjjk · 2 years
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practice | jjk
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⇢ PAIRING: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader
⇢ RATING/GENRE: m/18+ | college au, fwb, smut
⇢ WC: 8.1k
⇢ WARNINGS: mentions of bad sexual experiences, nickname you guys might find cringey (sorry babes), praise, a little degradation, a little manhandling, oral sex (f recieving), fingering, squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, very brief mentions of anal play, brief mentions of sex toys and masturbation, spitting, titty sucking, protected sex (hes a hoe but not a dummy), jk is kinda a himbo (scratch that last side note), jk running through twice members lmao sorry girlies, pining, maybe unrequited love, maybe not, ill let u decide, oc is in denial in the beginning, oc has that lemon water coochie!!, daddy kink + daddy kink slander (not seriously!), slight corruption kink
⇢ SUMMARY: you usually spend friday nights on your own. tonight, however, your friend and campus fuckboy, jungkook, decides to pay you a visit.
⇢ NOTES: hi friends!! i’m back with my second fic!! i posted this last night but miss ting had a bad case of the typos rip. so I had it beta'd by @kookstempo pls go give her love >:((( ! i found the smut a little easier to write this time. still not that good lol but not as mentally taxing! oc is totally definitely not a little bit of a projection of me haha thisficwassexuallycathartictowrite i hope you guys like it! i would love to know your thoughts! also would be v cool if you checked out my masterlist. love u bye!!
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⇢ SERIES MASTERLIST
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It’s 10 p.m. on a Friday. 
The night of the week that lures college students out of their suffocating dorm rooms with the promise of parties and alcohol. After days of classes, hours of studying, and minutes of sleep, most people your age spend their weekends unwinding, hopping from frat house to frat house.
One of the many perks of living on campus is the social life. Being surrounded by young adults is exciting. It also means that everyone is horny. Ravenously so. Seriously. Anything with a hole or phallic-shaped appendage is a prime candidate for getting fucked. 
Anything and everyone, except you. 
It wasn’t that you couldn’t get fucked, per se. Although abundant, your options were limited. Given the environment, it was difficult to find a guy you actually felt comfortable with. He didn’t have to be in love with you, but he did have to respect you if he wanted to get anywhere near your sugar walls. With that being said, it was slim pickings.
You coped well, for the most part. But it was hard to shake the lonely feelings that bubbled in your chest from time to time. And the feral ones. Nothing a quick rub from your petite, manicured fingers couldn’t satisfy, you suppose…
Besides, all men do is disappoint you. The only two sexual partners you’ve had thus far were subpar, to say the least. Greedy. Disgusting. Selfish. Not an ounce of concern for your pleasure. As embarrassing as it was to admit, you’ve never orgasmed from sex. Not even close. That left a sour, lemony taste in your mouth. Ever since then, your pussy was on hiatus, locked away in the highest room of the tallest tower, until a worthy knight came to save it from this tortuous dry spell. 
You sigh, peeling the honey-drenched sheet mask off your face and tossing it into the trash with vigor. You eye yourself in the mirror with a scowl. Fluffy, freshly plucked brows knit together as you examine your appearance. You’re wearing a cropped white tank top, nipples poking through the little animated cherubs printed on the front. The baby pink Sailor Moon pajama shorts on your thighs left little to the imagination. White kitty ears headband keeping those annoying baby hairs out of your face. 
You’re cute, right?
Atleast you tried to look cute.
Your roommate, Mina, was visiting family for the weekend, leaving you the dorm to yourself. Without your extraverted lifeline, you decided it was the perfect opportunity to stay in and pamper yourself. 
You’ve already waxed your body, head to toe, with that expensive sugaring wax Mina begged you not to get. ‘It was worth it,’ you thought to yourself when you had spread your peach-scented lotion on the smooth canvas of your legs after the shower.
You even gave yourself a facial. Extractions and all. Much cooler and more productive than partying and getting laid.
You take your headband off, ruffling your thick hair until it falls into place. You reach for your candy-flavored Laneige lip mask, spreading it across your plump pout with your middle finger. Another overpriced purchase.
You exit the bathroom, shuffling towards your twin-sized bed and then falling face first into the plush, ivory duvet. So comfy. It wasn’t even midnight and you were ready to hit the hay. 
You had planned to study a bit before knocking out, but the warm shower left you sleepy. Plus, the past week has been hell. Two papers and an impromptu quiz from your least favorite professor. You were a good student. A great one, even. But you were an overachiever to the core, and still found yourself stressing over assignments you knew you aced.
You let out a small yawn, squinting at the brightness around you. Along the wall beside your bed were vine garlands, embellished with little fairy lights and pink roses. They were such a pain in the ass to put up. It took you and Mina nearly three hours, and a mental breakdown on your behalf, to stick them against the drywall in the right position. High maintenance, but cute, nonetheless. Kinda like you. 
The lights dim as your mind turns hazy, eventually turning into a silent black as sleep clouds your vision. Sweet, blissful sleep. You were teetering into the REM phase when-
Knock. Knock.
The booming noise startles you awake, rattling the brittle wood of your cheaply built door. The wall hangings flutter in its wake. 
Maybe you were being dramatic. The knocks were actually soft and melodic. Almost cheerful as they followed the rhythm of a made-up song. But you were pissed. Even the most heavenly sound would ring demonic and evil in your ears at the moment. 
You shove yourself off of your bed with an exaggerated groan, stomping towards the door and yanking it open, fully prepared to yell at whoever was behind it.
Jeon Jungkook. 
His expression is blank, doe-eyes widening as he takes in your expression. Your body language radiates hostility and violence. The silver barbell glimmers as his thick, dark brows twitch in confusion. He blinks before opening his mouth. “Hey,” he utters hastily. 
Under different circumstances, you would be ecstatic.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Jungkook?” 
“Woah, someone’s cranky,” he laughs hesitantly. “I was bored. Figured you were, too. Mina is gone, right?”
“Are you drunk or something?”
“What- no,” his plump lips form a pout, the matching silver ring on the bottom corner shining as well. 
You sneer at him, pupils darting over his outfit. Oversized gray hoodie, white t-shirt peeking from the unzipped portion at the top. Gray sweatpants. Your gaze lingers on the tight pull of the material in the front. He doesn’t seem drunk, and he isn’t dressed in his usual party attire. 
“I just want to hang out with you. Why are you acting so sus?” 
You roll your eyes, doing everything in your power to exaggerate your irritation. “Why are you here?” 
“Oh, come on, Bambi. Don’t be like that.”
Bambi.
That stupid nickname. 
You and Jungkook had met at a party after you were peer pressured into a game of beer pong. The super boisterous, super attractive stranger ended up being your partner by default. 
"What do you mean you’ve never played before?" He questioned you, voice laced with devastation when he realized you were about to cost him his undefeated streak. 
Despite Jungkook’s best efforts, Mina and her boyfriend, Taehyung, mopped the floor with you. 
"You know what, I like you. You’re a little bitchy but-,” he slurred at the end of the night, helping you gather the discarded solo cups, "Also innocent. Kinda like a baby deer. What the fuck was that movie?"
You answered him curtly with a scowl. 
"Bambi! Right… I can’t wait to ruin you." He was so wasted that night he ended up vomiting off of the second-floor balcony and onto the class president’s Honda Civic. Not drunk enough to forget the awfully humiliating, yet adorable nickname he had bestowed you. 
“Give me one good reason why I should let you in.”
“I have pancakes,” he beams with pride, bunny teeth peeking out. He raises both arms, showing you the crinkled takeout bags in his hands. “Chocolate chip-”
“That’s disgusting,” you scoff. 
“And blueberry,” he retorts with a squint. “Please? I won’t be annoying, I promise.”
You let out a contemplative noise. It wasn’t what you had planned for the night, but you guess company wouldn’t hurt. Especially his company.
If only you could mute your evil brain. 
“I thought you had plans with whatsherface,” you question, stepping aside to let Jungkook enter your room. 
He kicks his slides off at the door, something you’ve drilled into his head with violent words and empty threats. You remember him texting the groupchat a screenshot of his calendar, tonight being marked ‘PUSSY APPOINTMENT’ with the woozy face emoji next to it. The same one that was inked on his middle finger; it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. Tonight was one of many slots in his month with the exact same title. That picture was deleted from your phone as soon as you received it. 
“Sana,” he corrects, face unimpressed like he expected you to keep a mental catalog of all his flavors of the week.
You did. Every time a new name was added to the roster, your heart sank. You would never admit it though. 
“I did, but I guess she has a boyfriend now or some shit?” He plops down onto the baby pink area rug beside your bed, immediately digging through the takeout bags. 
“How dare she?” You gasp sarcastically, taking the styrofoam container that he held up for you and sitting criss-cross on your bed.
“I know, right? That’s what I’m saying,” he laughs, opening a syrup packet and pouring it over his pancakes. 
You cringe, foreseeing a sticky, impossible to clean mess all over your floor. “Please don’t fuck up my rug, Jungkook.”
“I won’t,” he mumbles halfheartedly, bringing the pad of his thumb to his mouth. The tip of his tongue pokes out to kitten lick at the sugary liquid before wrapping his plump, pink lips around it.
He sucks gently and then pulls off with a tiny smooch. 
Wow. 
Are you really that far gone? There was no denying that Jungkook was attractive. But were you really that touch starved that you were drooling over every minuscule, minute movement he made? 
“Maybe she was sick of you stringing her along,” you comment, trying to cover up the fact that you were totally just gawking at him.
“Nah,” he murmurs through chubby cheeks, mouth full of pancake. “She knew it was just sex.”
“Did she though? What about Dahyun?”
“Well aware.”
“Jihyo?”
“Yep.”
“Nayeon?”
“Are you slut-shaming me?” He points his plastic fork at you, bringing the opposite hand to his chest in feigned offense. “Because I feel very attacked right now.”
You playfully nudge his shoulder with your thigh-high sock-clad foot, deciding to drop the subject. To be fair, he wasn’t wrong. Jungkook had a reputation on campus. Every girl who involved themselves with him knew what the outcome would be. He was very blunt about his desires and disinterests. Sex being the prior. Commitment being the latter.
But you suppose remaining detached was easier said than done. Something about him was… magnetic. He was bold, yet soft. Obnoxious, but endearing. A sweet talker for sure. And easily the freest person you’ve ever known. Add sex into the equation, and it must be nearly impossible not to fall in love with him…
Hm. That’s enough thinking for the night. 
You need background noise to keep intrusive thoughts at bay. He peeps an ‘I don’t care’ when you ask him what he wants to watch. You take it upon yourself. Sailor Moon it is.
The pancakes keep him preoccupied for a while. You glance down at him every now and then. His eyes sparkle as he watches the cartoon on your phone screen. There’s a little speck of chocolate on the corner of his mouth. His tongue makes an encore appearance, licking it away before fidgeting with his lip. How sinful. 
He starts getting squirmy about halfway through the episode. Antsy hands pull at the strings on the border of the carpet below him. Every now and then he draws a shape and erases it. One of the shapes is a penis, something you’d see on the back of a middle school textbook. 
He scoots with a sigh, pressing his spine against the edge of your bed, and then bending his head back. Fluffy dark strands tickle your legs as he peers up at you. “Can you play with my hair?”
“Why would I do that?” You huff, hot and bothered by the sudden contact.
“It helps me stay still. Please?”
“Oh, um- okay,” you oblige, gulping like you’ve dry swallowed a huge pill. You cautiously card your digits through his hair. It’s so soft and healthy. 
He purrs and closes his eyes. 
He's silent once again, enjoying your touch, even pushing into it a bit. Very cat-like.
That lasts for about three minutes. His inability to not speak every single thought that enters the void of his mind takes over.
‘I just realized they’re all named after planets.’
‘Wait, the moon isn’t a planet, is it?’
‘Why are they dressed so sexy to fight space monsters?’
“Jungkook, shut up!”
“But I’m bored,” he whines. “Is this really how you spend your Friday nights?”
“Excuse me, I’d like to see you take STEM classes for a week and then tell me how you feel,” you contend, leaning over to grab your phone off the nightstand. You don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on your nipples. It makes your palms clammy. “Sometimes, it’s nice to just chill.”
“You don’t masturbate?” He asks calmly as if he had just inquired about the weather. 
You give him an exasperated look.
“What? That’s how I destress,” he continues, shrugging nonchalantly. “Don’t you have a vibrator?”
“I- no! Why are you asking all these questions?” You shriek, absolutely mortified.
“What do you mean ‘no’?” He lifts his head off of your lap, craning his neck so you can see his appalled expression, your answer leaving him equally as mortified. “Damn, that’s wild,” he tuts in disapproval.
“I would rather not have to smuggle a sex toy into my dorm room, Jungkook,” you retort.
“You can borrow mine,” he smirks, turning his body to face you, obviously relishing in the reactions he’s pulling out of you. “It’s a Hitachi. It’s really strong too, like, most girls don’t even last five minutes.” 
“Why do you have- you know what, nevermind actually!” You clench your eyes shut, poking your fingers into your ears and shaking your head dramatically. Your reaction is mostly out of embarrassment and partly because the thought of him pleasing women who aren’t you hurts for whatever reason. “I’m done with this discussion!”
“Seriously?” He wheezes, thoroughly enjoying your tantrum. He wraps his long, nimble fingers around your wrists, pulling your hands away. Your skin burns under the touch. “I want to get to know you more.”
“Yeah, but you don’t need to know-,” you rip out of his grasp, flailing your hands around in circular motions, “-those things.”
“I’m just trying to make conversation,” he frowns. 
“About?”
“Anything.”
“Okay, um...” you look around the room nervously, searching for the right thing to say. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Black. What’s your favorite position?”
“Jungkook!”
“I think missionary is my favorite. Very underrated,” he says, tapping his chin like it’s an answer only an intellectual would’ve given. “The kind where her legs are pushed alllll the way back,” he emphasizes the ‘all’ by balling his hands into fists and lifting them up by his head, showing you exactly where he likes them. “You hit the g-spot perfectly that way.”
You level him with a scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. Unamusement written all over. 
“Why are you so mad?” He laughs. “What? You’re embarrassed to talk about sex?” 
A pause. 
“You’re not a virgin, are you?”
“Jungkook, no…” you sigh, rubbing your temples in frustration. “I’m just not like you, okay? I don’t like sex as much as you and everybody else on this fucking campus does!”
He hesitates for a moment as he processes your sudden outburst. The first time you’ve ever seen him rendered speechless. You can picture the cogs turning in that thick skull of his. 
He inhales sharply, eyebrows raising up to his hairline as if something clicked. His tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek, cute dimple peeping out from the pull. His head drops as he huffs out a laugh.
“What’s so funny, Jeon?”
“Ah, I see now.”
“See what?” You groan, bothered by his vagueness. 
“Here's what I think, Bambi,” he mumbles in a low tone, sitting up from his spot on the floor so his gaze is aligned with yours. His palms are on either of your crossed legs, fingers curling into your white blanket. Forcing you to make eye contact with him- his pupils are black, nothing like the soft brown you’re accustomed to. “You’re so uptight because you haven’t had sex in a while- good sex, at least.”
Your breath catches in your throat. You say nothing.
“The guys you fuck don’t know how to treat you, am I right? They can’t make you cum?”
Crickets.
Your lack of response tells him the answer.
When you do speak, your words come out shaky. “Well, what makes you any different?” 
He shuffles closer, knocking his forehead right against yours, invading your space. He’s so close that you feel claustrophobic. Your heart pounds in your chest.
“I always make the girl cum.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm,” he hums through curled lips as he nods, silver hoops swaying at the motion, nose brushing against yours. “More than once.”
His dilated pupils scan over your body, pausing at your chest for a moment, and then continuing their descent. A hand slides up your bare thigh, the warm touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. He grabs the hem of your shorts between his index and middle fingers, tugging gently. “These are cute.” He licks his lips, making them pink and glossy, like he’s ready to eat you. “I’d like them better somewhere else though.”
“Jungkook…”
And then he's kissing you. 
It’s soft, like he’s afraid to scare you away by putting too much pressure into it. Little does he know you’ve been thinking about this for a while.
All your protesting and fighting up until this point was futile. Your hands unconsciously make their way to his cheeks. You swear you feel him smirking. It’s like he can read your mind, knowing exactly how bad you’ve wanted this.
He prods his tongue against your bottom lip, urging you to let him in. You do. He wraps an arm around your waist and guides you down, hovering over you.
“You taste like candy,” he whispers against your lips, hot and needy. Take that, Mina. A sneaky hand cups you through your shorts, right where he knows your clit is. The thin material does nothing to conceal how wet you are. “Do you taste like candy here too? Can I try?”
You’re anxious, but you can’t stop. Not when he’s so enticing. Not when the rumors of his sexual prowess are swimming around in your mind. Jungkook could ask anything of you and you’d gladly obey. You give him a small nod. 
“Don’t be nervous,” he teases through an airy laugh, breath fanning across your face. It smells like chocolate and syrup. He turns his head and presses a gentle kiss on your fingertips. You swoon.
Hooking his thumbs into the sides of your shorts, he pulls them below your butt. He dips his head down, biting into the side of your thigh. A predator sinking its teeth into its prey. Not hard enough to hurt. It’s just enough to rip a whine from you. “Fuck,” he grumbles, pulling your shorts completely off. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”
He’s been wanting this, too?
“Let’s leave these on though,” he sighs, speaking in reference to your socks. It was something you knew he found sexy, overhearing a graphic conversation with Taehyung about kinks and other filthy things. That may or may not have been the motivation behind your purchase.
You cringe. Being naked in front of someone for the first time in a long time was nerve-wracking. 
“No panties?” Jungkook asks, looking at you quizzically. “Dressed so skimpy, Bambi. All for me?”
“I didn’t know you were gonna show up...”
“Oh shit, you’re right,” he chuckles, caressing your legs with his large thumbs. You appreciate the gesture. 
Cool air brushes against your exposed core when he parts your thighs. His gaze locks onto your dripping center. You whine and cross your arms over your face. Maybe if you squeeze hard enough you’ll revert back into yourself and escape this dreadfully vulnerable feeling.
“I’m sorry, it’s just…” he starts, words dying out because his attention is elsewhere. Jungkook has seen a lot of pussy throughout his life, but yours has got to be the, “prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. So fucking wet.” He settles back onto his knees, hooking his limbs around your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed. 
Jungkook watches in awe as he spreads your lips open with his thumb and index fingers, stealing a peek at your shiny center. He takes a long, languid lick from your pussy to your clit. He moans when the wet muscle dips between your folds, eyes scrunching as his feature contorts into a scowl. You recognize that face. That angry face he makes when he tastes something he finds incredibly yummy. It’s the same one he made when he ate his pancakes. 
Have you really studied him so much that you’ve picked up on his subtle habits? Nevertheless, the fact that he actually seemed to be enjoying going down on you was jarring. You’ve never experienced this before. It felt so fucking good. You were already close and he has barely touched you. You let out a whimper.
“Mm, you’re so responsive,” he notes, absolutely loving the little sounds you’re peeping. Much different than the blaring moans and screams he is used to. Despite the ego boost they give him, your shy whimpers are a welcomed change. Each one makes his cock twitch, forcing him to bring a hand down, palming himself through his sweats. “When’s the last time someone ate you out?”
“Never…”
“I don’t see why not,” he coos sympathetically, shaking his head in disapproval. He gives you another lick, tongue pressed flat against you. “You taste like lemonade, so sweet.” 
That had you absolutely drenched.
You move up onto your elbows, watching as he throws your legs over his broad shoulders. He licks the pad of his thumb, this time actually sinful. He presses it right to your bud, rubbing it before pulling the sensitive skin taut, lifting the hood and exposing your clit. 
He tuts his tongue, whispering something so quietly you barely catch it, only making out a breathy iteration of the word ‘tiny’. Heavy eyes flicker up to yours as he places two soft pecks on it, then blows delicately.
“Jungkook, please…”
“Sorry,” he chuckles, “I won’t tease-,” sentiment interrupted with an open-mouthed kiss, “I know how bad you must want it.” 
He circles the tip of his tongue on your clit before suctioning his lips around it. You gnaw onto your lower lip, face twisting up in pleasure.
This is easily a far better form of self care than what you had planned. 
It’s obvious that this is something Jungkook does a lot. He is a photography major, and has never struck you as someone who is incredibly bright, but the way he touched is strategic. He has spent the better part of the past decade perfecting his craft, studying the way women move their bodies when he applies a certain amount of pressure. The beautiful noises they make when he stimulates them in certain spots. He has the exact equation to make you fall apart.
There is a pattern to it. He latches onto your swollen nub, cheeks hollowing with a few harsh sucks, before licking over it, letting his tongue dip into your entrance. You can’t help the subtle thrusts into his mouth with every glide of his tongue. The consistency had your stomach doing somersaults.
He sinks further down, lapping at your folds, never straying too far from your clit, burying himself so deep into your pussy that the tip of his nose nudges against it. A big palm slides up your torso, reaching under your tank top to grab at your chest, thumb flicking over your hardened nipple.
“Jung- fuck!” You croak, high-pitched and desperate. “I’m close.”
You expect him to pull away. He, instead, acknowledges you with an ‘mhm’, nuzzling even further into your cunt. 
You can’t help the instinctual, or more so learned, shame bubbling in your stomach. Your hips jerk away. Legs close tight around his head, attempting to save him from the brunt of your orgasm. He simply pries them back open, nails digging into your inner thigh. You grasp onto his hair, tugging it back as you curse under your breath.
He doesn’t like that.
He pops off of your clit with a sharp, annoyed growl. “Can you stop?” The stern edge in his voice makes you flinch, releasing your grip immediately. “You don’t have to control every situation. Just relax.” 
“I’m sorry,” you squeak.
His gaze softens immediately. He didn’t want you to apologize and he definitely didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. “You can touch me, Bambi,” he grabs your hands and places them back on his head, encouraging them to tangle in his tresses once again. “Keep me here, though. Wanna make you cum in my mouth.”
It’s strange, being pampered during sex. Taken care of. 
You peer down at him. His mouth and cheeks are dewy, covered in your arousal. Even the tip of his nose is wet. He’s not uncomfortable in the slightest. 
You push him down, giving him the green light to continue. The descent is quick. Starting in your stomach before it shoots through the rest of your body. You throw your head back, teeth digging into your lip as you desperately try to stifle the lewd moans threatening to escape.
Jungkook guides you through it, slowing down towards the tail end of your orgasm. He pulls away with a satisfied hum, standing up from his spot on the floor. “Taste?” He asks, squishing your cheeks with his big hand. His tongue licks right against yours when you stick it out, lips closing into a sloppy kiss. “Good, right?”
You don’t really taste anything, but you nod anyway. Maybe a slight hint of citrus. Or maybe you were delirious after the best orgasm of your life. The only partnered orgasm of your life.
His eyes are scrunched, but you can still see the stars in his dark pupils as he smiles down at you. You mirror him with the opposite expression, irises wide and blown out. He giggles, nuzzling into the side of your face and then nipping at your cheek. “You’re like a space girl,” your heart melts at the Sailor Moon reference. “So clueless. I wanna do everything to you. Teach you everything.”
“Like what?” 
“Have you ever squirted before?” 
You freeze. “No… I don’t think everyone can.”
“That’s not true. Everyone can squirt with a good partner and the right mindset,” he proclaims enthusiastically, shooting you a thumbs up. The tent in his pants on full display.
“Right mindset?” You giggle, raising a brow at him. 
“Yeah, it’s pretty intense.” He grabs a half-empty water bottle, your water bottle, off the nightstand, taking a big sip. “I can get you there,” he states, a droplet of water dripping down his chin. “You have to listen to me, though. You can continue your ‘girlboss’ bullshit after I’m done with you.”
You roll your eyes. If any other man said that to you, you would be livid. You would literally rain hellfire upon them. But it’s Jungkook. You know he’s joking, and the soft spot you have for him prevents you from ripping him a new one. 
He smiles when you agree, pecking your cheek before unzipping his hoodie and shrugging it off his shoulders. You watch his muscles work. Toned, firm biceps exposed for your viewing pleasures. He recently recolored the tattoos on his right arm. 
You remember him venting about his parents’ disapproval of them, and his major, when he walked you to your dorm after a party a few weeks ago. It was the only time you’ve ever seen the fun-loving, jovial man feel melancholic. You coin that night the night you developed... whatever it was that you have for him now.
“Alright,” he gestures to the cotton sweater, now spread out on your bed. “Lay here.”
“Why?”
“I mean…” he looks at you like you’re stupid. “You don’t want to get this wet, right?” He counters, pinching your blanket.
Cockiness just oozes out of him. It makes wetness ooze out of you. 
You comply, laying down on the soft material. It’s warm and smells like the delicate linen cologne he normally wears. You bask in the scent.
“I usually use lube for this, but…” he clicks his tongue, knowing you don’t have any. “We can make it work.” Leaning down, he lets a string of spit land on your clit. It tickles as it trickles down your folds. He’s quick to collect it with his fingertips, smearing the moisture all over.
“Take your top off, please. I wanna see those pretty tits.”
It’s barely a top. The jagged, raw hem only conceals half of your perked nipples. How ironic is it that you’re wearing an angel print tank while being absolutely defiled. You sit up, taking it off easily and tossing it on the floor before laying back down. 
“It’s not going to hurt, is it?” You wonder, reflecting on his earlier statements.
“Why, you nervous?” He teases with a lopsided grin. It drops when he sees the apprehensive look on your face. “It shouldn’t hurt, but if it does you’ll tell me, right?”
“Right,” you moan, another drop of saliva hitting your pussy. 
“Hold your legs up, keep them open,” he orders, sucking back the extra spit with a hiss.
Pink nails curl under your thighs, bringing them up to your chest just as Jungkook instructed. He pops his middle and ring fingers into his mouth, bringing them down to tease at your entrance before slipping in, palm facing up.
There’s an adjustment period, his fingers being much bigger than your own. You’re so aroused that the tenderness subsides quickly. “Fuck,” you yelp when he starts gently petting at your g-spot.
He doesn’t jam his fingers into you carelessly, an unpleasant sensation you’ve been subjected to in the past. His digits never leave you. Instead, they move in a sensual curl that makes you purr. Every touch is focused, intricately placed on that delicious spot.
“Pussy so wet,” his voice comes out as strained as his pants. He sounds so turned on and filled with lust. It makes you clamp around his fingers. He lets out the tiniest moan, using his free hand to grab yours, sucking three fingers into his mouth. “Touch your clit for me.”
You bring your hand down, rubbing side to side. “Uh-uh, circles.” 
Immediately, you follow his command. You look so delicious he can’t help himself, bending at the waist to latch onto one of your nipples.
“Please, Jungkook, more…”
“Yeah?” He mumbles against your chest, sending vibrations through the sensitive skin. You nod frantically. “I usually don’t give in this easily, but I think you deserve it. Been such a good girl. You can have more, Bambi.” You know it’s just sex talk. A stream of consciousness fueled by his horniness. All the blood leaving his head to fill his cock, making him more dumb than usual, but you can’t help but feel special. 
“It’s going to build up fast, okay?”
You mumble a small ‘mhm’. How bad can it really be?
Jungkook starts moving his hand rapidly, fingers thrashing up and down. There's so much force behind his movements that your hips lift and dip. 
You’re overwhelmed. Constant, vigorous stimulation right to your g-spot. A strange swelling feeling starts pooling in your lower stomach. High-pitched whimpery moans and wet squelching noises fill the room.
“J- daddy, fuck!” It is so intense you can’t form a coherent sentence. There’s faint laughter in the background. “No, no, no…” you plead, wrapping your hand around his wrist, nails digging into his skin. It’s too good. So good that it made you scared.
His movements halt. “Am I hurting you?”
“No, too much… fuck!” You shout when he continues at the same intensity, your body thrashing wildly. You feel out of control.
“Shh,” he whispers softly. “You can take it. Just let it happen.”
You inhale sharply, doing your best to calm down. It’s difficult when he keeps touching you like that. Your fingers curl into his sweater, bracing yourself. As soon as you stop fighting that full feeling, as soon as you loosen the tense muscles, it’s going to hit you.
You relax and a wave of the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt ripples over you.
There’s an intense, world-shattering, euphoric release.
And then nothing. 
Your head is empty. Your ears ring. Your vision is distorted by white splotches. 
Complete solace.
Your senses come back after a few minutes of heavy breathing. It’s fuzzy, but you can see the ceiling fan swirling above you.
There’s a metallic taste on your tongue. 
You can feel droplets trickling down your inner thighs, a damp puddle under your butt, and a warm set of lips on your temple.
“Welcome back to planet Earth,” Jungkook jokes, pushing away the wispy flyaways that stick to your forehead. You blink absently as you slowly make out his features. You swear there’s a glowing aura around him. “You good?” 
“So good,” you confirm halfheartedly. “You’re so good.”
“You came so much,” he hums in satisfaction, placing a few pecks against your jaw. Jungkook was actually surprised at how much wetness he coaxed out of you. You just kept on cumming. The prettiest waterfall he’s ever seen. Damp fingers brush up and down your bicep, a comforting gesture. “You called me daddy.”
“Shut up,” you groan, covering your face. “Don’t talk about it.”
“I won’t, it was fucking gross,” he laughs, smiling down at you so genuinely that it reaches his eyes. This was just a hookup, you assume, but he’s just so pretty. You can’t stop yourself from pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He reciprocates. It feels so intimate. Too intimate for a pair of friends. You’re so tired but you want more. Everything.
“Take this off, please,” you ball the white fabric of his shirt into your tiny fists, mimicking his words from earlier. “Let me see those pretty tits.”
He quirks a brow at you, standing up straight and pulling his shirt off by the collar. It’s discarded onto the floor, with all the other useless, bothersome items.
His tits are pretty. Chest flushed red from exertion, nipples spiked and tiny. His body is fit, but not overly muscular. Lean and toned. Just what you like.
You snake your legs around his cinched waist, constricting his pelvis flush against yours. 
“Is it my turn now?” He says, loving your sudden burst of confidence. His jaw goes slack when you start grinding on his clothed cock. There’s a slick spot where your bodies meet, heather gray turning dark as the fabric dampens. Jungkook lets you play with him for a bit, rutting against you until he physically cannot stand it anymore. “I’ve never wanted to fuck someone so bad.”
“Then do it,” you whimper, growing impatient. He sighs, hand coming down to fiddle with the sweater underneath you. You crane your neck, watching curiously as he pulls a square packet out of the pocket. 
There’s a sharp pain in your chest when you see it. “Did you plan on us hooking up?”
“Maybe,” he contends playfully. All the amusement in his face disappears when he flicks his bangs back and sees yours. Hurt and disappointed. “I always keep condoms on me, you know that,” he explains, voice soft and wary. 
It makes sense. He was sexually active. Very much so.
That scares you. You could possibly be just another girl he’s sexually active with. A last ditch effort to get laid because the first option bailed. The puzzle pieces start coming together.
You look him in the eyes. His pupils are brown again. They look pleading, concerned for your wellbeing. Afraid they’ve tarnished something so delicate. You can’t tell if it’s just your delusions, post-orgasm bliss. All you know is you never want him to stop looking at you the way he is right now.
“Can I put it on?” You ask, pointing at the condom in his hand, desperate to break the tension.
“I- sure,” he retorts, exhaling deeply like he was holding his breath, relieved. He gives it to you, using his other hand to pull his pants by the waistband, stopping mid-thigh. Too rushed and eager to take them off completely. 
He didn’t have underwear on either.
You squint, trying to read the white font on the packet. Large.
You glance up, eyes bulging out of your skull when they land on his cock. It’s big. So aroused that it points straight up, resting on his abdomen. The tip is bright pink, standing out against the background of his smooth milky pelvis. It’s shiny with precum, a little bead sitting right at the slight. Your gaze trails up the veiny underside, following the acute upward curve. You gulp.
“You good?”
“Yeah,” you say, jittery hands tearing open the foil packet. You cautiously wrap your hand around the shaft. It’s so firm. Rock solid and touch starved. It jumps in your palm as you slip the sticky rubber down, making sure to stroke him along the way. “Big, thas’ all.”
He nods, the corner of his lips pulling up in a smirk. He can tell your words are equally as worried as they are complimentative, though. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises, holding on to your ankle to lift your leg, kissing it through your white sock. Gaze locked on you, making sure you’re watching and that you know he can be soft with you.
He bends both of your knees up to your chest, tapping your outer thigh, indicating he wants you to hold them again. Tattooed knuckles wrap around the base of his cock, laying it flat against your pelvis. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath when he sees the tip reaches just below your belly button, knowing exactly what to envision when he’s inside you. His cock so deep it’s in your stomach.
He smacks the shaft between your folds. Filthy, wet slapping noises overpower your coos and purrs. The tip tickles your entrance, rubbing up and down your folds, before he brings it to your abused clit again, flicking it up and down like a light switch. Watching your face intently to gauge your reaction, looking for any prick of discomfort. 
“Put it in,” you frown, growing impatient.
“So needy,” Jungkook teases, gripping his cock right under the crown and pushing in. Only the tip. He uses his fingers as a buffer, trying not to give too much too fast. Pulling back agonizingly slow and then diving back in, giving you a little bit more length this time. It was only an inch or so, but the stretch burned. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill.
He repeats this process, working you open little by little until he’s buried to the hilt. He lets out a pained grunt, overwhelmed by the way your warm wet walls just suffocate him. “Fuck, tightest pussy ever.”
You clench your eyes shut, trying to ease the feeling of getting impaled. Jungkook is so big. The veins that run along his shaft, the thickness, the curve. He leans down and pecks your nose sweetly. His thumb, rubbing tight circles against your clit, provides a decent distraction. You focus on the pleasure instead of the pain.
“Feel okay, Bambi?” He coos, feeling you relax under him. “Can I move?”
With furrowed brows, he pulls out a few inches before thrusting back in slowly. Heavy eyes glued on the way your lips petal around him when he gives you more. The way they resist when takes his cock away. “Good girl,” he praises, voice raspy as he tries his best to maintain a slow, shallow pace. “You take it so well.”
Any pang of discomfort is gone. He prepped you so well that there’s no friction, just seamless glides in and out of your leaking cunt. The upturned tip of his cock tickles that sweet spot in you. You moan, digging your almond-shaped nails into your thighs, arching your back for more.
Jungkook sees your body language. He knows what to do in this situation. One of the most useful sex tips he’s ever learned. He leans forward, pressing his chest against yours, swollen lips latching onto your neck. They suck a sore spot that his tongue quickly soothes over. “Hold on to me,” he commands, wet pout smushed to your skin. 
You let go of your thighs, leaving little crescent indents on the surface, and throw your arms around his shoulders. Hooking your knees into the bend of his elbows, Jungkook hoists you up effortlessly, supporting your weight with his large palms on your ass. The change in position spreads you even further, slides him in even deeper.
“Mmm, f-,” you moan, words cut short when he starts bouncing you up and down on his cock.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“Mmm, I knew it,” he chuckles sadistically, right into your ear. “I knew you were just waiting to be ruined. So fucking high-strung and- fuck!” He can feel your arousal dripping down to his balls. “Controlling.”
Arguing is pointless. You swear he's in your head, the tip of his cock scrambling your brain around so that you can’t even think straight. All you can think about is him.
You cling to him, resting your cheek against his shoulder as he lifts you in the air. Letting him have his way with you. You’re never felt more alive. 
‘Orgasms are the pinnacle of the human experience,’ you recall Jungkook telling you one day at the library. At the time, you rolled your eyes. Now, you know exactly what he meant. 
“You just needed some dick, huh? My dick?” You nod, drooling against his skin. “Doesn’t it feel good to let go?” All you can get out is a little moan.
A glint flickers in the corner of your eye. Mina’s mirror. It’s leaning against the wall right in front of you. You can see the expanse of his back. The taut skin on his shoulder blades. Biceps bulging as he moves you. His pants slid down to his knees, so you can see his cute butt dimpling when he thrusts up. Muscles working to make you cum.
“Okay,” he huffs, more to himself than you. Your pussy was so good that it derailed his original plan. Jungkook tosses you up a little, getting a more secure hold as he wraps an arm around your waist. The motion makes his cock slip out, the loss of contact makes you whine.
His free hand tosses his soiled hoodie out of the way. You cringe, making a mental note to mop tomorrow morning.
He places one of your fancy, cooling-gel pillows on the edge of the bed, laying you down on top of it. Your hips are elevated, tilted upwards. Giving him a clear view of your glowy core. He catches a glimpse of the only place he hasn’t destroyed.
“What about this?” He coos, pressing the pad of his thumb right against your clenching hole.
You squeak, shaking your head. Baby steps.
“Alright,” he chuckles, hand retreating promptly. “Maybe next time.”
He wants to do this again. Your heart flutters.
You watch as he guides himself back in, stuffing you to the brim in one swift motion. Much less cautious than earlier. His cock hits your g-spot perfectly. The pillow and his curve doing wonders. Your eyes roll back as your head hits the bed. “Like that, right?” He laughs, snapping into you. 
“Yeah, Jungkook,” you moan out, gripping your ankles and bringing them up by your head, just how he likes. “Don’t stop.”
He could’ve busted right then and there. 
“Fuck, keep saying my name,” he groans, eyes glancing up to your perky tits, jiggling freely with every snap of his hips. His pupils sneak down further, watching his cock plow into your tight, wet cunt, leaving it dewy.
You call his name like a metronome, ‘Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook’. Voice airy, following the rhythm of his hips. It makes him move harder and faster, feeling that familiar pooling at the base of his shaft.
Just like everything about him, his strokes are fluid. His hips aren’t locked and stiff. They move in a dip and roll that makes your toes curl. His pelvis mushes against your clit when he thrusts all the way in, balls smacking against the curve of your ass. It feels delicious. Your third orgasm of the night is approaching fast.
“You cumming, Bambi?” He hums, already recognizing the way your thick brows pull together when you're close. The way your hips rut a little, naturally guiding you to your orgasm.
“Mhm, make me cum Jungkook,” you mewl.
He hovers over you, placing his hands on top of yours, bending your legs back farther. Taking long, violent plunges into you. So close to a piledriver. He’s basically fucking you into the mattress, bed frame cracking against the wall beside it. One of your vine garlands falls down, but you’re so close you can’t even bring yourself to care. 
Your climaxes blend together. You first, clenching and unclenching around his length. Moans coming out sporadic and your shoulders off the bed. Legs trembling in his hands.
His orgasm is stunning. 
“Ah- fuck. I’m cumming,” he croaks through snarled teeth, head dropping to watch where you connect. Something he does often, you notice. He doesn’t stop, even after he spills into the condom, fucking you until he’s completely drained. You whimper, sensitive from the overstimulation. 
“Damn,” Jungkook huffs out a laugh, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You fist the wavy strands at the back of his head, a little damp. 
“Thank you,” you speak shyly.
“I know you’re new to this,” he lifts up and looks at you quizzically, amusement tickling his features, “But that’s kinda a weird thing to say after someone fucks you.”
You laugh with him, eyes darting over his face. He has a small scar on his cheek, something you’ve never noticed before. 
“No, I just mean-” you cringe when he pulls out of you, feeling empty. “You’re the only guy who’s ever… I don’t know. You’re just different.”
He smiles with twinkling eyes, tying a knot at the end of the condom and tossing it into the pink trash can beside your nightstand. “You’re different, too,” he mirrors, plopping down onto the bed next to you. “Special.”
Special.
You sigh into his lips when he gives you a soft peck, thumb brushing against the newfound mark of his face. “I’m sorry that I made you do all the work.”
“Nah, don’t worry. Making you feel good makes me feel good.” His words are sweet but there’s a naughty glint in his eyes. “Besides, you can think of this as a practice round.”
“Practice round?”
He hums in conformation, tapping your ass lightly, making it ripple against his hand. “Alright, go take a leak before you get a UTI.” He laughs when you push his shoulder. The same old blunt, shameless Jungkook.
He stops you before you disappear into the bathroom. “I hope this won’t make things awkward between us. Like, we’re still friends, right?”
Friends.
It takes all of your strength to give him a nod. You ponder over his words as you clean up in the bathroom. Why did you feel so... conflicted? You’re so happy, but you’re also kinda sad. It’s like your mood solely depends on Jungkook. His words have the power to pull you in whatever direction he pleases. You stare at yourself in the mirror.
All these emotions must mean you have a crush on him.
You sigh, flicking off the light and then heading back into your room.
Jungkook is hunkered down in your sea of pillows, soft snores leaving his parted lips. Chest rising and falling steadily. Hair messy, fanned around him.
He looks so beautiful and peaceful.
You tilt your head at the sight. He always told you that he never spends the night after a hookup.
The blanket is only covering his pelvis, strong legs poking out from underneath. His sweats are still on his ankles. You giggle, attempting to slide them off without waking him.
“Bambi,” he mutters sleepily, opening his big arms. “C’mere.”
You feel your cheeks heat up. You shuffle into bed, throwing the covers over both of your bare bodies. 
He wraps his arms around you, pecking your forehead before drifting back into slumber.
Fuck.
What have you gotten yourself into?
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© chryblossomjjk 2022 [do not copy, translate or repost]
9K notes · View notes
koolades-world · 3 months
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Hello I like your writing :)
Can I pls request demon bros with a v affectionate but v touch starved MC,, like they’re always offering the bros hugs and holding their hand and casually telling them all I love you and stuff, but the first time one of them gave MC a hug (not just accepting a hug that MC gives them, actually giving one to MC) they just kinda,, melt, cling desperately and cry a bit… maybe ask them not to let go yet
Knowing the bros it prob would have been Beel, Mammon, or maybe Asmo to offer that first hug, but how do you think all 7 would respond to that (if you want to write all 7 of course, no pressure obv)?
Specifically, responding to being the first one to give MC a hug, and MC not reacting casual and chill as he would have expected (given how touchy with everyone MC is normally), but instead them getting so emotional about it and not wanting to be released, because they absolutely thrive on physical affection and they love hugs, but no one holds them—and they needed to be held so bad
(Sorry if this is too specific)
hey! :)
hello former anon haha, saw your name in my inbox twice and thought I was going nuts but no! you just made a request in like mid januaryish and I'm only just now getting there lol
sorry about no post yesterday and that this one is a little late. yesterday was my friend's birthday and today is super bowl sunday lol
yeah of course I can write this! please enjoy!
Affectionate but touch starved Mc
Lucifer
his office is always open for you so at some point you just wandered in and he found himself in a hug from behind
when he reached his arms up to try to half hug you back, you almost tumble over the back of his chair
you're basically in his lap daily after that for your hug while he's doing paperwork
he's also kind of touch starved too so he never objectes
Mammon
I think he would be the first to offer a hug in his own roundabout way, or by just opening his arms to you
he’s not expecting your reaction but it melts his heart so he doesn’t want to let go
so the two of you just… stand there for the next fifteen or so minutes
after that he’s sweeter and more touchy with you
Levi
only offers the hug once you're close and something big just happened
he's very unsure about how to feel since he's also very touch starved
he doesn't want to let go either honestly
after this, he tries his best to offer you hugs more often but he just needs to work up the courage every time
Satan
he's super big on hand holding so eventually he's bound to twirl you into a hug eventually
the first time you do hug is when he pulls you out of the way to avoid getting runover by a crowd
he was not expecting you to hug him so tightly and how you didn't let go after the crowd was gone
now, he often invites you for hugs while he's reading or studying
Asmo
the type to spin you around while you hug
gosh such a hugger! loves physical touch so you're in luck
his arms are always around your shoulder with a hug from behind or from the side, or he's gripping your arm
let him know you love and want it, and he will provide and snuggle you every night
Beel
there’s always room for you in his heart and arms
if you randomly come up to him and just lean on him, he’ll scoop you up and continue what he’s doing
if you want you can koala hug him and he’ll carry you around so you can get all your hugging in
of course, he makes sure to shower you with attention you deserve once he’s finished with what he’s doing
Belphie
he actually started hugging you in his sleep
when he woke up, you were basically in tears and holding him in the death grip
he hugs you before he goes to sleep now too
you always share the same blanket and if he can't be there for whatever reason, he leaves you the blanket so you can burrito yourself in it
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xenizaation · 1 year
Text
permanent
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pairing: fem! reader x choi san (ft kim hongjoong)
genre: angst, friends to lovers, smut
general warnings: depictions of a depressive state, mourning of partner, self-blame and slight ptsd
sexual warnings: dirty talk, pet names, manual stimulation, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie,
word count: 12.6k
summary: they say moving on is hard. you find that it's even harder when in the process of it, you have to accept your feelings for your friend as well.
less important a/n: ok so this was supposed to be like 5k long 🙃🙃...chile, anyways. uhm, this came from me bottling my emotions up for the last 5 months and I just wanted to let some of my suffering out in some kind of way. even if it is far from what I feel (I feel the need to specify that the events related below aren't inspired from my life, happily so). read at your own discretion, for I have tried my best to make you feel horny and miserable at the same time 🥰🥰🥰 stay safe xoxo
a/n from long later: hi i wrote this about a year ago and i found it in my drafts and hey why wouldn't i post it after not posting something in ages? haha. enjoy! altough it's probably rlly bad and full of mistakes hihi, i ain't reading this again to correct it. i love you muah
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The cold air felt like needles poking at your bare skin. You ran as fast as you could, barefoot in the woods, feeling every little scratch that was tearing open the skin of your soles and staining it with fresh blood. Your lungs were holding hostage a fire as you were inhaling the cold night air, and the sweat you felt dribbling down your face and back was only of help to make you feel even colder. You looked behind, once, twice, and then a third time too, slowly reducing your pace until it came to a halt.
"What am I running away from?" you ask yourself looking around. There was nothing, no one after you. So why were you running for your life? Your heart starts to beat faster as you hear screams coming from deep within the trees. But you don't run. You can't run anymore. You just fall to the ground, embracing your knees to your chest.
"Me!"
You don't turn around. That voice is way too familiar to make you turn around. Your mouth hangs open as you try to scream but no sound comes out as your muffled moans remain drowned in the deepest point if your throat.
You gasp for air as you wake up shaking your head relentlessly, in order to try to snap yourself back to the reality you're in- so your heart would stop beating so damn fast. You groan as you look over at the watch on your nightstand and see it spell 3:37 AM. You grab your phone from next to it and shut your eyes closed at the sudden brightness the screen displays. You manage to decrease it and open your contacts.
"Still awake?" you ask, and you know you shouldn't. He always offers you more than you can give back, more than you deserve. But you can't help yourself. You cannot deny yourself the little peace you still have in your life.
"Yeah, wassup?"
"Can you call?" you hit send and it's a matter of seconds between him receiving the message, him reading the message and then his name popping up on your screen. You answer.
"Again?" San questions from the other end of the phone. You only hum in affirmation. He sighs softly as you lay down on your side, phone trapped between your ear and the pillow. You hear the clicking of the keyboard and mouse clearly, he must be working late again. And yet he always answers. More than many people you've met did for you.
"Tell me a story." you ask once again. For the...well you've lost count.
"You know, one day I'm going to be out of stories," he answers and lets out a chuckle. Bathing in your silence, he takes his time to think about what he could tell you. As he begins, you close your eyes and imagine whatever he is helping you picture inside your head. Be it the times when he was a little kid and used to walk with his grandparents down the side of a river, or the times he was a teen and was always struggling to get out of trouble, San always gave you a vast amount of details that made you worship his each and every story. And they always made you dream something pretty when you dozed out of consciousness with him still talking on the other end. This night was no exception, so when you wake up, you send him a text that expresses your gratitude as always.
"Listen, if you still want a contract renewal you need to publish something within next year," you look at your boss and feel every word he lays out weighing your body down like you're going to fall through the floor. "I get writer's block, I really do. And we gave you time. You took your time. But it's been almost two years now..." his words stop reaching your ears as you're reminded. One year, ten months and twelve days. And still counting. The count will never stop, you realize, as the event it started from cannot be reversed. You will always be stuck in a period of time since it happened.
"You're one of the biggest names here in our publishing house, Y/N. We don't want to lose you but at the same time we can't keep focusing on you if it will be to no avail." he is right. He is always right, your boss. Always had a strategic mindset, and that always helped both of you. Except now. Now he was asking for something you couldn't offer.
"I'm sorry," you manage to blurt out. "I'm trying my best and I know it's not enough." if you had to be honest, hearing yourself say those words out loud made your heart break even more that it already was. Partly because it was true, and the rest? Because it sounded like you were asking for compassion, which you thought was pathetic. You never liked people looking at you the way you caught yourself looking at homeless individuals.
"I'm gonna get something out, ok? I promise you, just please have a little more faith in me. I need you to trust me to be able to do this."
You look up and make eye contact with him. Park Seonghwa was never one who showed compassion. But as his gaze traced over your fingers picking at your cuticles, the dryness of your lips and the shadows of your hollowed eyes, you felt something you grew too accustomed with in the last almost two years of your life.
Pity.
"Come on, let me take you out on Thursday." San pleaded as he was following in your steps down the hallway of the company you worked in. You didn't expect your little trip to talk to your boss would end with this. "You literally have nothing to lose." He completed and you stopped, facing him. You met his familiar and comforting eyes, which always reminded you of a cute fox, and his dimpled smile as he watched you keenly. It has been almost four years since he started working at the same company you did, but since the beginning, you two were more than just work colleagues. It was the type of connection where you would understand each other from simple looks into the other's eyes or where you could easily finish each other's sentences. You liked to consider him your platonic soulmate but you knew that if you hadn't had a relationship at the time you two met, you would've have surely gone out together and maybe made a good couple.
Well...now you didn't have a relationship anymore but you weren't exactly in the right headspace for one.
By now, you and all the rest of your workmates knew how big of a crush he had on you, but you never let it get out of control. You were feeling kind of guilty, to be honest. Knowing that in a way, you were using it to your advantage for your sleepless nights or the ones in which sleep was ruined by nightmares. But you were sure he was getting his benefits from it as well.
"Look, I want to but I really don't wanna be a bitch to you if I suddenly feel like shit." you reply, and in all honestly, it was true. Your mood hasn't been so stable lately, understandably so.
"Well, how about this: if you wake up in a good mood on Thursday and decide it's okay to hang out, you text me, and we do whatever you feel comfortable with. And if we do go out and do something together and you end up feeling like shit then you'll tell me and I'll get you home in the fastest way possible for a human being. How does it sound?"
Not bad. He is giving you every little piece of comfort that you knew you needed but you never asked for. So you agree. It wouldn't be the first time you hang out with San, sure, you never called them dates, because to you they were not. But you knew that for any outsider it looked exactly like that. And who is to blame? You two always worked hand in hand just so well. These no-pressure type of meet-ups you two had always made you feel comfortable so that was why you were considering it this time as well.
Days pass and you spend them stuck in your home, drowning in your bitter memories and your regrets. The taste of guilt never becomes sweet, you think. Not like how alcohol does when you drink more and more of the same kind. No. Guilt only grows in bitterness and in how it burns down your throat, feeling like it swirls all of your insides once it reaches your stomach. In a way, guilt feels like the long estranged sister of love. Both let their essence hover in your mind for however long they like.
As you rise from your bed to make some hot coffee you think of what day it is. Between the mix of reliving the moments long gone in the same apartment you still stand, and the countless intents to come up with something that you could present to your boss, you didn't know which one made you lose track of time more. You checked your phone for a bit of clarity. No new messages or notifications. At this point, everyone knew better than to bother you with their worries.
Thursday.
Well, seems like you had to cancel out on someone, you thought as you tried grabbing the coffee pot on the stove, but lost in your thoughts, you pay no attention to the handle and drop the pot on the kitchen tiled floor as soon as you feel the skin on your palm burn. You swore and quickly took a few steps back so the burning coffee on the ground wouldn't get to your bare feet. You shook your hand trying to get a cold breeze to the inflamed skin but it only made it feel worse. As you stopped to look at the damage you realized it wasn't all that bad, but it sure stung like a motherfucker. You ran your hand under the cold water of the sink and looked to your right. The brown liquid on the ground was expanding, getting in every little crevice in between the tiles.
****
Coffee was getting everywhere. It splashed on the kitchen counters, it was slowly getting under them too. You froze for a few seconds after your mug made contact with the floor, shattering to dozens of pieces.
"Well, that can't be a good sign." your lover said from behind you finishing with a low chuckle. You smiled, turning on your heels and taking in his form. You woke him up, well, the mug woke him up actually. Approaching you slowly, with a slight limp in his walk and his shoulders dropped all the way down, his hair was fluffed up and his skin a nice shade of pale with a few lines from the pillow on his left cheek. He always looked so angelic, you never could put it into words, how it made you feel, seeing him first thing in the morning. It was something that made your insides crazily stir up but made gave you a sense of tranquility, at the same time. That was how loving him usually was. Two opposite sides walking hand in hand. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him, softly pressing his lips against the crown of your head. You joined your hands behind his torso and inhaled deeply. Your heart skipped a beat as your lungs felt intoxicated with his smell.
"Today is the big day, huh?" his voice was still hoarse as he spoke, every word of his drumming in your ears. You nodded.
"I'm really nervous." you answered and let your forehead drop against his shoulder. He hugged you tighter with the hand around your waist and gently pat your head with the other.
"I know, angel. But it's gonna be alright, ok? Your friends will be there, your parents will be there and I will be there. You can lean on me." he said kissing your cheek. "You know that, don't you?" his face right in front of yours, you responded with nothing more than a slow kiss. A kiss that was rehearsed so many times before that your lips and tongues already knew what they had to do, how they had to move around each other. Sometimes it felt like a dream, how everything came so easy with Hongjoong. How you didn't have to think twice about what you wanted from him and with him. And for all you knew, and all he had shown you across the time spent together, he didn't do that either. Every morning next to him felt like the luckiest one, and every night with him ended just the same. And you knew that if you were to live a hundred more years alongside him, you still wouldn't get enough of his embraces, or kisses or just simply him. There was nothing in the world that could cure the insatiable love you felt for the man in front of you.
As he pulled away from the kiss he gestured with his head behind you. "Now how about I clean the mess you made, and you make coffee for both of us? We have a book launch to attend, after all." you laughed and kissed him again.
*****
As your breath got heavier and your eyes started to burn up you unconsciously took your phone from the kitchen counter.
"a picnic would be perfect" you text your friend. The desire to get out of the prison your house has become, growing bigger by the second.
"Tell me if this isn't an appropriate question," you heard the man next to you say, derailing your train of thought as you directed your attention towards him. The weather is hot today, it really was a good call, suggesting a picnic. You haven't been on one in a long while and you missed feeling of how the calm of the nature overwhelmed most of your senses. Also, you couldn't handle a complicated social situation on this day. So it was perfect right now, laying on a blanket, stranded in a flower freckled field with none other than San. You turn your head towards him. " What made you want to go out today?" he completed, not looking at you. He was laying on his back, with one arm under his head and his eyes closed, as if he feared the reaction you were going to have to his words. You didn't blame him for asking. In a similar situation where the roles would be reversed, you knew for sure you would ask too. After all, you and San were made of many of the same things. " Don't get me wrong, I'm happy you agreed, but it didn't seem like you would." he adds.
"Some days my house feels like a torture chamber." you say turning on your side and facing him, supporting your head on your angled arm. He was so still, you could barely even notice the way he slowly breathed in and out. It was as if the sun was painting his portrait and he was afraid to move, to not mess it up. Every ray that was falling on his exposed skin seemed to caress him the way a lover does.
"And some days it does its job." you completed after returning on your position on your back, mimicking his. "Today just didn't felt like one of the days I'd like to be tortured." you finished and felt his gaze on you right before you closed your eyes. If you thought he seemed worried, you made sure not to address it.
"One time when I was little, I was playing with a friend of mine," you smiled, realizing this is just the beginning of one of his captivating stories. "I don't remember how we got to that point, but he left me in a room and said he was gonna lock me there, and so he got out and he did." a bit darker than what he usually tells you, but still intriguing.
"At first I thought it was fun, that we would take turns locking each other in the room but he wasn't coming back. The room had only one window but it was locked when I tried to open it and get out. So I just waited. I think hours passed, it was getting dark and I was getting worried and hungry, thought I'll be stuck there forever, until it crossed my mind. I never even tried to open the door. Turns out it didn't even have a keyhole."
"San, if you're trying to put me to sleep with this one, just know it doesn't really work." you say smirking, still holding your eyes closed as you let the sun bathe your face.
"I'm not, Y/N. I'm trying to tell you that most of the times, the doors aren't locked. We just think that they are." he responds and you open your eyes to look into his. His look is full of compassion, and a bit of sadness that you choose to overlook. You finally understand what he means to tell you and you realize he is right. But even if a door isn't locked, you shouldn't open it unless you're ready to do so. You gently touch the back of his hand, and he is quick to caress your fingers with his thumb, changing his focus to where your hands are joined.
"Thank you," your words came out more like a whisper than you would've liked. "I know I don't do much for you...but I'm hoping I'm not that much of a nuisance, like I feel I am." he turns his hand, joining his fingers with yours and making eye contact with you. The simple gesture of affection made your head dizzy in a way you haven't felt in a long time. Your heart creaks up a little.
"You couldn't be one even if you tried," he said, his gaze lazily tracing the outlines of your face. You were the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life, even now. Even after all the hardships you've been through, and that you're still going through. The adoration his heart held for you never stopped burning, no matter how much he wished for it to do so. For San, loving you was as easy as it sounded and as hard as it could get. Setting his eyes on the bags under your eyes he recalled a memory that stood like a scar on his brain. Your eyes were so dark that day, your eye bags a shade of purple he hadn't seen on any painting quite yet. Your lips were pale and chapped and your skin looked like it lost all its pigment.
Black didn't suit you so well, he thought. Not when it was worn the way you were wearing it then.
But the worst came when it was time to say goodbye. He still remembered your cries and wails and it made the skin on his spine tremble in its place. Could he ever forget how, on that day, you looked like the angel of death?
Now you looked better...like life was coming, little by little, back into your body, and the pure sunlight was definitely helping it. He should let the sun see you more often, he thought.
You pulled your hand from his when you felt like his eyes were analyzing your features for a bit too long. Rising in a standing position, you started examine the insides of the basket he prepared.
"Oh my God! You brought me watermelon!" you shouted loudly as you took the container holding the red pieces of fruit in it. The only thing San could do at your reaction was laugh, throwing his head back to look at the puffed up white clouds.
Four days since you brushed your teeth, three since you showered, two since you changed your clothes, one since you ate, and one year, eleven months and fourteen days since you've last held the love of your life in your arms. But, hey, who's keeping count anyways?
Time loses all its meaning when you confine yourself like you are some dangerous animal meant to be locked up in a cage. Between the moments you try to stay awake and the ones you try to sleep, you have little to remember. The only thing that gives a little light to the fog in your brain is San. His stories in the middle of the night, conversations you happen to have during the day and occasional meetings that you're always the one to initiate. He always makes you feel good, always picks the right words to say and you don't know how he has the patience for such things. You love and hate him for it. You love him for being such a considerate and kind person, and you hate him for making you forget. It's strange when you get home and reality dumps on you at the front door. The reality you actually live in and not one you indulged yourself to have with San for a few hours. It's just...with him everything is colorful and melodic but when you get home the only thing you hear are your sighs echoing off the walls back into your ears. You wished you could be stuck in the feeling you have around him forever, but at the same time, every time you have that feeling you feel guilty for it. Like it's impossible to allow yourself any sort of break.
The last days have been impossible to get through. All you did was look around at the mess that was around you. A mountain of clothes, waiting to be washed for weeks now, a sink full of dishes and mugs, lots of crumpled sheets on the ground ( proof of all your tries to put something together). Everything was a disaster, inside and out. You had no willpower to do anything about it but you knew that the more you would stay in a shitty space, the more you would feel like shit. So for the first time in months, you opened the window.
*****
He placed the two mugs on the windowsill as he opened the window, allowing the cold breeze of the morning to brush over the exposed skin. He watched you closely as you made sure to turn off the stove and place the coffee pot in the sink. Your eyes met his as you felt the cold air run down your back, giving you shivers. He smiled contentedly at the sight of your body slowly shuddering. The "window" habit was a thing Hongjoong let into the relationship since the beginning of it. It was crazy for you how sometimes you caught him doing it first thing after waking up. You loved to watch him open the window and inhale the morning air with his elbows pressed against the wooden frame. Those moments wouldn't last long, but you treasured them more than he maybe thought about it. There was a thing about this domestic life, and seeing him do his own rituals that had you turn into quite the observer.
"You love to make me cold, don't you?" you smile brightly getting closer and closer, until you reach the space right in front of him.
"Angel, you're so hot in the morning that I'm afraid you might overheat. I need to cool you down a little, don't I?" he says on his usual cheeky tone, the one you grew to love in such little time. As he places his hand on your hip, you take a sip of your coffee. Like your actions served as a reminder of the hot liquid resting in his mug, he does the same.
"I can think of some other ways you could cool me down..." you say as you hook your finger on the front waistband of his pajama pants, sliding it from left to right. He chuckles in his mug and pulls you closer. Your chests rise in unison as you look each other in the eye, you don't say anything but this moment feels like a promise neither of you wants to break.
He looks to his left, at the city and at the people. Taking advantage of the opportunity, you place a few slow kisses on his jaw.
"I want us to find a new place," he says scooping you up as you squeal in surprise. You hook your legs behind his waist instantly while he walks towards the bedroom. "I want a balcony." He completes before kissing you and you laugh into the kiss, thinking of the many ways you two could make use of said balcony. He sure was thinking the same thing you did, giving how he started laughing as well.
His laugh was the only thing you ever wanted to hear again.
*****
You look down at the windowsill and see the brown marks in the body of two circles imprinted on the wooden surface. You always told him to use the damn coasters. Now the wood was stained. Permanently stained. Permanently ruined. Just like you were.
As you get on with cleaning you try to keep your brain busy with thoughts like what you should do after you finish a task, and what you should do after that one is finished as well. You thank yourself for choosing to clean, as you get out of the shower and throw yourself into the bed. Not only does it now smell like flowers, but you're also tired enough for sleep to steal you the minute you close your eyes.
"Ha! Check mate!" San exclaimed from the other side of the table you both were sat at. This was an odd activity that you had never done before. Playing chess, in a park, fully exposed to the summer sun. And you weren't even middle aged. Crazy to see how far the desperation to get out of the house will make someone go. But if it was with San, you were sure that there weren't many place where you wouldn't go.
"Your mind seems to be elsewhere," he said, angling his head innocently like the little puppies do when you tell them not to lick the outlet. His black hair was swooped out of his face, making his cheekbones pop out in a way you didn't think it was more humanly possible.
"Oh, you know damn well I suck at chess, San." you said kicking his queen with your finger. It became clear to him that you were an unfit partner for this game after like, the half of the first match. As the piece made contact with the chessboard, San tittered, making his eyes turn into crescents and his dimples scar his cheeks again.
"You just don't want to learn," he said as he started picking the pawns. You gave him a hand, collecting all the pieces on your side.
"You play the pawns when you still have the queen..." he offered a dramatic sigh as he clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. True, it was more comfortable to lose with the pawns than with the queen.
"How's the book going?" placing the game of chess in his backpack, he made eye contact with you as he pressed his elbows against the surface in between. You sigh.
"It's not," you admit thinking about all the documents you've erased the last month or every manuscript you tossed in the trash. Nothing was coming together and you hated every word after writing it. Not only was this process driving you mad but it also made you doubt all your abilities as a writer. People would expect more from someone who had a bestseller out there, you thought. But it wasn't your job to rise to anyone's expectation.
"Maybe I was just a one hit wonder." you say smiling sadly. It really did pain you to think that you weren't able to do the sole thing you ever thought yourself good at. But maybe, after you lived in a thousand realities in the past two years (as of today, maybe the reason why you wanted to get out of your home so bad), this was your new one. A reality in which you weren't able to write anymore. Fear was not even close to describe how you felt about the future.
"Don't kid yourself, I know you'll make it eventually." San offers, grabbing your hand in his. "You know, you should be the last person who is hard on yourself." he rubs your hand with his thumb. You wish you could pull away from his touch, or to at least want to pull away. But you don't. His touch is comforting and not a lot of things in your life are that way right now. As you look at him there is a sudden desire to punch yourself in the face, for the only thing that comes through your mind is to thank him again. As you did countless of times before. He did say he grew tired of it.
"You know what I'm in the mood for?" you avoid the subject successfully as he rises his eyebrows, showering you in all his undivided attention. "Drinking my sorrows at a shitty bar." you finish off, painting a big smile on your face. He mirrors it as he sighs through his teeth, letting go of your hand. He notices your intention to avoid talking about anything serious. Anything that might actually help you. You always do it, that is exactly why you talk to him only about nonsense and why, when you call him in the middle of the night (and when he always, always answers) you make him tell you a story. Leaving him to be the only one to talk as you doze off. Never leaving room for him to ask you what is wrong or what you dreamed of. Is how you got on until then, and maybe that is why it went so slowly, the whole "moving on" thing everyone was telling you about. But it was the thing that worked best for you, you figured. Not talking about the elephant in the room got you this far, you can go a little more like that.
"Well, I happen to know the perfect place for that," rising from his seat, he extends his hand towards you. "Shall we?"
You didn't know if it was the alcohol or the bar lights or simply just him. Honestly, you couldn't tell the difference between many things anymore, but as you looked at San talking, you felt more attracted to him than ever. The mole near his eyelid seemed more prominent now, and so did his muscular arms under the fitted shirt he wore, and oh, the freckles painting constellations on his neck. His eyes were sparkling brightly and his teeth were showing from time to time. You looked closely as he licked his lips after taking a sip of his beer. The way he was doing it seemed almost erotic. That one part of your brain that would feel bad for having these thoughts has died when you drank your fourth shot, but you were glad it did. You felt more comfortable now, and with San here, there was not a lot more that you would wish for. Not realistic wishes anyway.
"I need to know which side you stand on," he says angling his body towards yours. "Socks on or off during sleep?" San asks with a serious face, as if he asked if you enjoyed kicking puppies in the face or eating toddlers for dinner. You burst out laughing at the mix of the question and his expression.
"Off, I'm not a psychopath." you answer through your stilled laugh. He frowns.
"Oh no, you're definitely a psycho. Do your feet not get cold?" a bit of frustration could be heard in his voice.
"How would I know? I'm asleep the whole time." you sip from your drink. "Don't tell me you like pineapple on pizza as well..." you plead looking at him.
"And what if I do? It's a good combination! It's like mint chocolate, de-li-cious." San smiles proudly at his outrageous statements. Maybe he is not the person you thought he was. God, he told you so much and yet you still knew so little. That was one of the most intriguing things about him. That you felt like a lifetime wouldn't ever be enough for you to get to know him completely. Like everyday he would pick another thing to like, or something utterly new to do so he doesn't get bored. He always told you how he gets bored of things and people so fast. And yet there he was, still by your side. Maybe you were the mystery he didn't get to solve yet.
"Dude, not toothpaste too.." you cry out as you push his arm, but instead of pushing him, you push yourself. You almost lose your balance off the bar stool, but San's quick reflexes kick in and grab you by the arm, pulling you back in sitting position. He cackles as you try to maintain your balance.
"Maybe we should get you home." he says laying some bills on the bar. You hum in approval and get to your feet as you follow him out of the bar, which was indeed shitty. San is a man of his word.
The walk home was short and calm as you focused more on seeming sober than to what was happening around you. It already got dark as you two strolled past the abandoned streets laughing about things you unwillingly forgot as soon as you finished laughing. This moment, you thought to yourself, is the one that you would remember when a certain song plays. One that will give you the same sensations you feel in this moment. And far away from right now, when you know you will be better, when you listen to that certain song, you'll think wow, so much has changed. That moment could happen 10 days from now, or ten years. You don't know yet. But something about this uncertainty makes you relax somehow, knowing that you still have hope. And most of it is thanks to San. He may not be aware of all the things that he is helping you with, but you are. It's like a mental list that you never stop writing on. Could you ever repay him for any of it?
"Here we are," he says as he places his hand on your shoulder and you take a hold of his arm as he rattles on about not drinking anymore and going to sleep and whatever else he decided to nag you about. Your focus is only on his lips, and then his eyes, and his lips again, and his hand on your arm, and then feeling his arm flexing underneath your touch, and the feeling of being taken care of by someone. You realize you don't want this night to end quite yet.
"Do you wanna come in?" you interrupt, and observe his quick reaction of rapidly shutting his mouth and widening his eyes.
"I could use a live storytelling session right now." you add.
What where you asking for exactly? As you looked at him hesitate for a bit, you weren't sure that you knew either. But after a few seconds of looking around, he hums in approval as he nods and follows you inside your home. It's not as clean as you would wish but not as messy as to apologize for anything. You both take off your shoes and walk into the open space living room. Feeling San's presence close behind you, you turn and signal for him to sit down on the couch as you go to a little counter.
"I have vodka, whiskey and some cherry liquor," you turn your head back towards him. He was sitting on your couch now. But not how someone who entered their friend's apartment for the first time would be expected to sit, no. Because he didn't have that posture of "oh, I don't want to make myself comfortable because my presence here is out of place". No. He looked like he fucking owned the place. Like he payed the bills. Like he chose every single piece of decoration there was inside your home. And you weren't mad about it, if you were being honest. The everlasting confidence that was emanating out his every pore always looked good on him. His legs were spread apart, and you didn't forbid yourself to spend more than a few seconds scanning his thighs, thinking of numerous ways you could make use of them. Prominent Adam's apple marked his throat as his head was thrown back over the backrest. It seemed that he moved in slow motion, lazily pulling his head up and in your direction.
"Glass of whiskey would be nice." he answered through a half pout as his hands splayed even more on the higher edge of the couch. Obeying his orders, you unconsciously let his choice be the one you make as well, so you pour the liquid in two glasses. The strong scent hits you immediately, and you know you won't be able to drink it, the alcohol in your system will reject this on the spot if you dared adventure too far. But you decided back when you invited your friend into your house, tonight was the night you were going to test your limits.
You sit yourself on the couch, next to the man you hide your desire for not so well, closer than you usually would. And he seems to observe regarding the fact that he appears to be leaning a bit into you. Maybe it's in your head. He sips from the glass you hand him, licking his lips again, the gesture he did at the bar seems to be hitting you in a certain, already wet, spot in between your legs as it did a little time ago. He hums right after swallowing the drink, you follow with interest the way his Adam's apple moves up and down. Why is he being so unworldly attractive tonight? Is it really the alcohol or has the sexual tension finally built up enough for you to not be able to take it anymore. You feel an unexpected, but not unwelcomed, ache in your heart and stomach and definitely in your pussy. He places the glass down, with careful fingers, on the table before you and resumes his previous stance, except now one of his hands chooses to rest on the thigh closer to you. You admire it from respectable distance, one which you weren't sure you'd be able to maintain for too long. His hands were clean, nails kept short on his slender long fingers, and the rings adorning them only completed the way his veins were traveling down the back of his palm. Will there ever be a time where you could look at Choi San and not like what you see? Highly doubtful.
"That's some good shit," finally his face catches your attention, and happily so. He looks at you through his lashes, smirking with one corner of his beautiful mouth. You wondered how his lips might feel. On yours, on your neck, your chest, everywhere. "never took you for a whiskey person."
"I'm not," you say through a bittersweet smile and you realize that maybe you really, desperately need the alcohol right now, so you chug some of it down. "it's been laying around." you finish the sentence and then the glass of whiskey and you place it down the table, next to his. The contrast of the glasses, one empty and one half full, makes you amused in some kind of way. It let's you reminiscence of the many times that you heard from a certain someone, how you were always rushed in the most unfit situations. It was true.
As you look back to San, you feel like you are left with no choice than laying on your back and placing your head on his lap. So you do, maybe slower than you feel you move in your drunk-dazed mind. As you nuzzle the back of your head into his thighs, you close your eyes, for your vision was getting blurry and the room slowly spun around.
"You can begin anytime." you sigh out and feel him shifting a bit underneath you. He chuckles lowly and it takes him a few moments to adjust to the situation presented before him, it would be strange to you too. These were exactly the kind of things that you hesitated to do with San, because you partly knew his feelings for you, so you didn't want to give too much water to the well. Exactly the kind of intimacy that would leave room to hope for more, want more.
And not only from his side.
"I met this girl a while ago," he starts and softly places his hand on top of your head, massaging your scalp and slowly pulling at strands of your hair. "she's the whole package. Smart, funny, kind and so fucking hot." , safe to say you don't expect his last words to hit you like they do. A tad bit of jealousy makes its presence felt in the bottom of your heart, thinking that there might be a possibility that he doesn't refer to you. But the slow strokes his fingers offer your head make you feel too good to give it any importance.
"She's got this thing about her, I don't know how to even say it. It's like every time we talk, we knew each other since birth and like the first time we ever met, all at once. It's incredible, really." the way he talked was how you only heard people talk in movies. Hopeless romantic to the very end.
"Sounds like she's got you head over heels." you huff out slightly annoyed.
"Yeah, you'd be shocked," silence following his words, words that had a heartbroken nuance to them. He continues to massage your head and his touch feels so good, so comforting, so familiar. Like he did it every time he saw you, like he at least imagined doing it every time. "she really loves my stories." he adds after what seems to be like forever, and his hand stops, pulling itself out of your proximity. Your eyes shoot open and you find his gaze upon you. At the same time he looks sad, his eyes are also filled with anticipation, of what is to come, of how you would react to the fact that he just confirmed it was you he talked about. You sit up, trying not to let the slight dizziness in your head get the best of you and turn to him. Faces close to each other, studying him one last time before things change between you two. He wants it. And you clearly want it. Both of you so bad that it's not even a surprise how you meet halfway into a kiss. You thank the universe in your head, for it being this way. For you to not beat yourself up too much later that you initiated anything. So you let yourself sink into the feeling of him, his smell intoxicating. You know that it will be hard to not feel it in your lungs for a long time after this, and you were happy for it to be that way. Your lips are shy at first, not used to kissing anymore, not used to someone who hasn't kissed you before. But the feeling is more than pleasant. He takes his time, slowly nipping away at your bottom lip, swiftly pushing his tongue into your mouth. Your teeth clash and you both smile, licking into each other's mouths a bit more. His lips are soft and so warm, this feeling has long been forgotten by your mind. He pulls away and you gasp for air, he reaches to brush the hair out of your face and cups your face gently, looking into your eyes with a glimmer you were sure you haven't seen on him before. But you knew exactly what it meant.
"I don't want it if you don't." he says, assuring you once again that his actions will only be made for your comfort.
"I can't even tell you how bad I want it." your voice soft as it answers, and after receiving your words with wonder on his face, San downs the whiskey left in his glass, only to rush kissing you right after he gulps it down. If the first kiss was both of you navigating uncharted waters, now you were both desiring more. Hungrily devouring each other, whiskey tasted so much better on his tongue. You climbed into his lap as he pulled you closer to his chest. Serving as a reminder, you needed to get that shirt off of him. And as you helped him get rid of it, you weren't even surprised of how he looked even better than what you kept picturing all night. He returned the favor of undressing you of your shirt, and briefly cupped your breasts through your bra as he pulled you into another kiss. His hands quickly running to your waist, pulling you deeper into his lap, feeling him get hard underneath you, moment by moment. One of his palms traveled down to massage your butt cheek through your jeans, and the other quickly moved up to unhook your bra deftly with steady fingers.
"You must be popular with the ladies." you whisper close to his mouth and he chuckles.
"Not with the ones I want." he replies and you jokingly slap his bicep in response. He pulls the bra off throwing it somewhere nearby and admires your chest for a second too long before taking one of your nipples in his mouth. You throw your head back and whimper at the feeling of his tongue swirling around the sensitive part of your breasts. You tangle your fingers in his hair as you try to slowly ride his thigh, feeling the need to get rid of the tension in some kind of way. He let's your nipple out of his mouth with a lewd pop and laughs as he glues his hand to the back of your head, forcing you to look into his eyes.
"Darling if you want something you just need to ask," he brings his mouth over to your chest, planting sprinkled kisses along your collarbones. "my thigh? my fingers? my cock?" he asks in between suctions on the soft, sensitive skin of your neck. You were so sexually frustrated that you thought you were going to cry, and his words definitely didn't help. If something, they only made the tightness in your belly feel even tighter. "Which one will it be?" he asks finally as his eyes find yours again. You barely manage a pathetic whimper as he let's go of your head to unbutton your jeans. His hand slides slowly until it meets the band of your panties, but it doesn't go further, his eyes stopping on your face.
"Fuck, San, I want everything." you finally verbalize for him, your words laced with desperation for him to take things further. He closes his eyes and smiles in satisfaction when hearing your words, resuming the attack on your neck, biting down some marks here and there. His fingers finally get a hold of your clit and you shudder at the sensation. The circular motions he starts only make you moan his name quietly, through whimpers. It's been so long since you touched yourself like that, let alone somebody else. Masturbation was a thing you couldn't get back into since everything happened. Every time you tried, your mind only pictured Hongjoong, and it always ended with you crying without releasing in any kind of way. That was how you spent the last two years of your life, no wonder you were sexually frustrated. But now, the only thing on your mind was San, and how you could get him to make you cum faster. The position wasn't really a favorable one, he didn't have much access and so, his movements were limited and slow. San sinks his hand further down, teasing your hole with his middle finger, coating it in your arousal.
"You're so wet baby," he slowly pushes his finger into you, wandering into your inside, and your tightness. It did definitely feel like rain after a long drought. He pumped his finger inside you a few times, adding an extra one after a few seconds, stretching you in a way that has become unfamiliar but satisfying all the same. He fastened his pace and you unconsciously started to ride his fingers, chasing after your long awaited release. It wouldn't last too much, taking in consideration that you haven't orgasmed in so long. Your left hand was on San's nape, anchoring you to some sort of reality that he was indeed there, and the other one was on his chest. It wasn't much longer until your body conjured the estranged feeling in your tummy, you were close. San seemed to read your thoughts once again as his movements came to a halt, you offered a frustrated whimper in return. He lifted you up of his lap and placed you on your back next to him. He helped you get rid of your jeans and then your panties.
"I know you want to cum, but I want you to do it in my mouth." his face in between your thighs, breath fanning over your aching core. This time he didn't wait for a verbal response anymore, and you were glad he didn't. His warm tongue licked a long swipe starting from your hole to your clit, his mouth latched to it with sensual movements, sucking and licking at it, taking all the time in the world.
"Ho...ly fu-fuck," you gasped as you threw your head back into the cushion of the couch, arching your back under his ministrations.
His tongue was skilled, and so were his fingers when they slid inside you for the second time tonight. He curled them up, hitting your g-spot every time he pumped them in. Your body shuddered hardly at the sensation.
"Feel good?" he asked looking up at you, for the first time since he positioned you like this, you looked down at him. And what a sight for sore eyes, so lewd that if you looked at it for long enough you would cum without him needing to do anything to you anymore.
"So good," you reply and place one of your hands into his raven hair when he continues abusing your sensitive bud in the best way you could think of, he continues his movements with his tongue and his fingers, and it's only a matter of seconds until it builds up. You pull at his hair as he deepens his head in between the thighs that are now clenched around his head and it finally all becomes too much for you.
"Fuck....San....ahh," you cry out whilst shutting your eyes tightly, thing that makes you see stars in the back of your head.
You feel proud for satisfying his wish. San seems too feel so as well. You come undone on his fingers, and he pulls them out quickly to attend your releasing wetness with his inpatient tongue, you feel as if you could pass out from the soft stimulation. Such a long time since you've had an orgasm and this might have been the best way to have one.
"Fuck, you taste so good," he says as he slowly rises and takes his place above you, letting you have a taste yourself as he kisses you, swirling his wet muscle in every corner of your mouth, making sure none of it is getting left untouched by him. You sure do taste better on his tongue. Feeling his hard dick press on the inside of your thigh, in all its dizziness, your brain only wants more.
"Can we go to the bedroom?" you ask nicely, only to be met once more with San's surprised face. Like the thought that you still might want more never crossed his mind. He helps you up by the waist and lets you guide the way to the room. As you enter the it you quickly run to the bed, throwing yourself on it as you giggle like you're high, and you might as well be. High hormones had the same effect as weed for you. San only shakes his head with a smile on his face, while looking down and getting his belt off. Shit, this is really happening. Really finally happening. He slowly approaches the bed, ridding himself of his pants as he reaches the edge of it. Your friend pulls down his boxers as well, and you watch closely as his erect member is finally out of its entrapment, it springs up vividly, slapping against his torso. You're left in surprise at the sight of his girthy, definitely above average long, cock. You bite your lip involuntarily and he laughs to your reaction.
"You don't need to," you quickly blurt out as soon as you see him pulling a condom from his wallet. "I mean...I'm clean, if so are you then..." well it's safe to say you've became quite a desperate little thing during your two, deprived of sex, years. "then, we don't need to worry." you finish your sentence.
"You sure?" he asks for confirmation once again.
"Yeah, 'm sure." you respond and beckon him with your index finger. He muffles out a swear word you don't quite register as he drops the condom from his hold, quickly climbing on the bed. He crafts a better position above you, kissing you gently as he lines up his tip with your entrance. You whine in anticipation, lips still attached to his own, softer ones. He slowly pushes himself inside, taking lots of time to make sure your tightness grows comfortable around him. It hurts. Not only it is the first time with San, it felt like the first time altogether. At first, it seemed like your damn hymen grew back. Ironic, considering the amount of sex you used to have. You frowned as you whimpered softly into his mouth. He quickly broke the kiss, watching you with a slightly panicked look on his face.
"Hey, you all right?" he brushed the hair out of your face with his right hand, holding his weight on his left arm. You slowly started to get used to him, your whole body relaxing noticeably when seeing his face.
"Yeah, you can move." you stated with a voice glazed with desire. He did as asked, moving his hips in slow strokes, every time trying to deepen himself more inside you. He groaned each time his dick reached a new part of you.
"Fucking hell, how are you so fucking tight?" he lets out in a tone that almost seems annoyed with the state of your pussy.
"You...are the first...since then." you speak in between craving moans. He shudders at your words, stopping for a second, as he buries his forehead in the crook of your neck.
"Well, damn, princess. Should've let me stretch you out sooner." he whispers into your ear. And that is by far the most obscene thing that has left his lips tonight. He started moving again, this time picking a pace that had you crying out for his name. You couldn't think of much else when San was fucking you, his cock kindly brushing over a certain sweet spot every time it reached its depth. His dick and your pleasure occupied most of the place inside you and your mind, respectively. But at one point, you did try to recall how exactly you ended up right there. Somewhere along the way of finding the answer, you realized it didn't matter how, it mattered that it did. And the strokes that San was driving into you only made you thank the universe that it happened. Following after his release, he increased his speed. His voice was starting to get raspy after groaning and moaning, as did yours, both of your throats dry now.
"I...I think I'm gonna cum..." he whispered in your ear, and you immediately understood the question hiding behind his words. Your mind was in a state of debate for a few too many seconds. In or out? The only person that ever came in was him. In or out? But you wanted San to cum inside you so badly. In or out? That wouldn't be fair. In or out? But why wouldn't it be?
"Inside." you determinately say. His movements begin to grow messy, losing rhythm. He immerses into you deep, almost knocking you out with the way his cock is so richly stuffed inside you, and he let's out an angelic cry as he fills you up with white ropes of his hot seed. With his forehead glued to your shoulder, San pauses to catch his breath for a few seconds, before pulling his body up to get better vision of you. He cups your cheek and kisses you softly once again, pulling himself apart from you quicker than expected.
"You're so beautiful," he brushes his thumb over your lips. "I could look at you for all eternity." your heart thumps heavily when hearing his words. It made no sense for you how someone who looked like him, could tell you that you're beautiful. It seemed so far away from your reality, but still, you were thankful. At a loss for words, and only giving a shy smile in return, San mirrors it as he ascends and then throws himself in the empty space next to you. The only thing that is heard the next few minutes is both of your breaths as your chests heave. You nuzzle up into San's side, he embraces you with his arm as you grab him by the waist, laying your head on his chest. He kisses you on the crown of your head as he starts humming a melody that you don't think you've heard yet. Nonetheless, sleep gets a hold of your tired body and mind quickly, and you don't know if it's the alcohol that creates an illusion, or if it's just San's presence, but throughout your dreams you feel as if you are guarded by an angel.
Easily the best sleep you've had in a while. You are reminded of how easy it is to fall asleep on someone else's shoulder, just as you wake up.
*****
Before you met him you always thought you were better at spending time alone than you were at spending time with others. Now your thoughts had changed about the matter. It was like you were made only for being in Hongjoong's company, and when you were, you felt at peace. Like nothing could affect you ever again. The moments after sex were the ones you loved most, it almost felt like after your bodies were joint, your souls were getting combined as well, while laying on one another. He had his warm hand draped against your waist, playfully tracing circles on your soft skin, humming whatever song came to his mind. Your hand was on his bare chest and your head in the crook of his armpit. If you would be stuck in a time loop made only of this moment, you would never get sick of it.
The heat his body was emanating seemed to strangely warm you up from inside out, and the smell that was around the two of you was making your mind dizzy and your lungs crave for more. Feeling his chest rise as he inhaled and exhaled made you realize that your breaths were in sync, and hearing his heartbeat, you were sure they were too, in sync with yours. For you, loving Hongjoong was such a natural thing to do, like you two were extensions of each other and worked at full capacity only when together. His fingers slowly took a hold of your hand which he brought to his lips, he kissed it and then squeezed it tightly. You looked up into his eyes. His beautiful eyes sprinkled with love and adoration as he watched you.
"I think that every day I spend with you, I find a new meaning to love." he brushes your cheek gently and you stay silent, your mind in a stage of awe at how greatly he sums up the things you feel, without even talking to each other. You smile as you kiss him again and again and again.
"Then let's find a new meaning to love together for the rest of our lives," still standing close to his face, you see him smile and you do as well. You knew that even in the darkest of days, his smile would always lighten up your whole world. He pecks your lips again and suddenly tries to get up from the bed, the coldness you feel not only in your body, but your heart as well, wraps around your mind and you quickly grab his hand. He stops and kneels on the bed, looking at your uncovered body still on display for the flame that takes ahold in his enchanting eyes.
"We'll be late..." he says as he gets closer to you. That wouldn't be a problem, you think. The author should be allowed to be late to their own book release, right?
"Ten more minutes," you plead as you pull him towards you. He smirks and let's you take control of both his mind and body, as he lays on top of you, filling you up with the heat emanating from his body once again. After all, ten minutes wasn't that much, right?
*****
There it was. The selfishness that has made you lose him. The selfishness that brought you here with San. Everything was your fault. You lost so much of yourself the day you lost Hongjoong, but you were sure your last bit of humanity was completely lost the day you let Choi San believe that you could love him the same way he did. How could you be so reckless? You couldn't even blame the alcohol anymore, only your fucking stupidity. You used the only friend left that you cared about, as a rebound. And he doesn't even know. You looked up at the man who was holding you tight against his chest, as if not to lose you. He was still asleep. His natural unflawed beauty made your heart exclaim in agony as you traced his features with your gaze. As thoughts were overwhelming your mind, you placed your head in its initial position. Your eyes were starting to sting when tears started to form up.
You were the worst there was, weren't you? You killed your boyfriend and you deceived your friend into being your distraction, from all the pain and guilt, in more than one way. You didn't recognize yourself anymore, not after so much time of ignoring all your thoughts and suppressing all your feelings thinking it would get better. It didn't get better, the opposite actually, seeing where you stand right now. It was all because of you, and your selfishness, and it could've all be avoided if you didn't wish for fucking ten more minutes.
You started quivering and sobbing.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" San confusedly asks. This should be a sight to see as soon as you open your eyes. The girl you were balls deep in the night before, crying in front of you the morning after. Comforting you came natural to him, like he has been doing it for all his life. And you realized he did do it, not for all his life, sure, but since it happened. He has done his best to comfort you in every way he could. And he always succeeded. And this is how you repaid him. How could you be such a fucking asshole?
"San you need to...you have to leave...I'm sorry." you say through sniffles as it gets harder and harder for you to control the tears pouring down your face. You cannot look him in the eyes but you do get a peek at his grave look, how he looks down, unsure of what to do.
"Did I do something?" he quietly asks with a certain thread of fear in his voice, as if he was terrified of what his question might cause. You wish you could tell him that at the same time he didn't do anything, he also did too much. His kindness and love were too overwhelming for you in the state you were in.t. No matter how much he tried, his love couldn't repair you. You were the only one who could do that, but for what felt like the longest time, you didn't want to do it. Maybe it was time to try now.
"God, no..." you barely manage to blurt out. Speaking seems like the most tiring thing to do right now. "I just have to be alone right now." trying to stop your tears briefly, you look him in the eyes as he retracts his hands off of you. And you can't help but feeling it again, even if you know that it's not the case. Abandoned. Once again, and like the first time, it was all because of you. He got up from the bed, quickly dressing himself in the heavy silence that was surrounding both of you. You slowly hugged your knees to your chest, slightly burying your head in the space that you created. Maybe it wasn't for the best to be left alone but you were afraid of what might happen if you weren't. You saw San walk to your front door, put on his shoes and look at you for a last time. You looked up at him with teary eyes.
"Y/N, I..." love you. He didn't need to enunciate it, you could already see it on his face, how much it hurt him to leave you in this mess, all alone. Whatever you felt for him was so hard to decipher in the amalgam of things that were dwelling inside of you. And it was even harder to accept that you did have certain feelings for him, stronger that you would've liked. He sighed and slowly shook his head, looking down. You saw him leave and then you didn't see much anymore. As bitter tears that flooded your eyes slowly slid into your mouth. Painful screams were tumbling out of your chest giving you no chance to control them. As you get up off the bed you start grabbing whatever comes first and throwing it around. Cradled papers, books off of shelves, tiny decorations on your desk. You reach a framed photo of you and Hongjoong and stop for a second to look at it. Back at the beginning of your relationship when you went to a museum. It started snowing so much that his black coat turned white. You still remembered the cold weather of that period but the warmth of his smile was burning still, even through the damn picture. A few of your tears stained the glass of the photo and after you whimpered in the discomfort you felt around your heart, like someone was squeezing it in their fist, you threw it on the wall across from you. Did you really have to destroy everything nice in your life? As soon as it shattered to pieces you rushed towards it, as if you were not expecting the completely obvious to happen.
"No, no, no..." you whisper to yourself in disbelief. You slowly pick the broken glass in your shaking hands as your crying only gets louder, rivers of tears flowing down your face when your eyes can't seem to look anywhere else but at the old photo.
"I miss you so fucking much..." you whimper in pain, like a dog being beaten.
It's pure torture, you realize, what you're doing to yourself. It takes a lot for your now bloody palms to make contact with your face and wipe your tears, only leaving more of a mess behind. The flesh, now torn from picking up the thin pieces of broken glass, stings when your salty tears slide over the bloody trails and as you rise up with wobbly legs to throw it in the trash, you find yourself looking out the same window you stood with your lover on his last day beside you. Your tears suddenly came to a halt as you looked at the city lights near and far away; your breathing steadied and you remembered.
I want a balcony.
How were you supposed to move on, when you haven't even moved out?
You never felt so nervous for anything in your life before. The microphone was waiting for you on the warmly illuminated stage. You took shy steps towards it as the people started to applaud loudly, you were sure you heard someone whistle from the crowd. As you got in front of the microphone stand you placed one hand on it, dragging it closer. You were not sure how to do this. It should've been your second time, but due to the incidents back then, it was the first time in your life you had to speak at your own book release. Or even attend it. You inhaled deeply and looked through the crowd once more. Your eyes met Seonghwa's as he slightly raised the glass of champagne towards you. The pity he laid upon you with the help of his gaze a while back had turned into pride. You couldn't help but remember the surprise on his face when you went not to his office, but his house, at two in the morning, when you finally finished writing.
You spent the night together, he began reading and you fell in and out of sleep on his couch. When you woke up, he made breakfast for you and he told you how great it was, with the little eternal side notes from his side. He was proud.
"I have no idea what I should say," you offer a strong beginning, everyone starting to chuckle at your awkward comment. "I've been through hell and back writing this book. Two years and a half ago I lost the love of my life in a car accident, and for a long time I thought I lost everything." the room became suddenly tense as you spoke the words.
"But this should be a reminder that some doors aren't closed. We just think that they are." you finish off raising your glass and looking at a familiar pair of eyes. Everyone cheers as you get off the stage, and after receiving compliments from your boss, your team and other people as well, you follow the suited silhouette that you've been secretly chasing with your stare all night, outside.
"Hey," you greet as you find San on a bench right next to the venue. His eyes meet yours and for a brief second it's like all the nerves you had on stage came back, but they were doubled this time. It was hard going through everything without San. He tried to contact you, of course, but you weren't giving him much and the only times you saw him were when you ran into each other at work. When you looked at yourself in the mirror you couldn't recognize yourself anymore, but he? He was just the same. Dressed for the occasion, his black hair swiped back neatly and his face...as gorgeous as ever, and the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.
"Hey," he greets back as he drags his body on one side of the bench, signaling for you to join him. You sit beside him and look forward, feeling his eyes on your figure. "how have you been?" he asks, his voice glazed in worry. You made him suffer for the last time, you tell yourself. The whole ghosting thing and all the times you avoided him, those summed up the last time you were going to ever hurt him. For now you were working towards slowly healing the wound that has scarred you, which gave you more clarity about a lot of things.
"Better." you answer, looking in his direction. "I finally got it out!" you add smiling, a bittersweet smile that you held inside for a long time, it was for him only.
"I told you." San mimics your smile and looks into the distance.
"You did," moments of silence accompany as you think of the best way to embody your thoughts into words. "I never got to apologize." you start and his head shoots right at you. "I'm sorry. For using you to try and fuck my pain away." finally saying it aloud to him and getting it off your chest make your lungs finally not burn up when you try to inhale.
"I should apologize too," he begins and it's your turn to look at him with confusion.
"A part of me was aware that you were trying to do that and yet I wasn't able to stop myself." he adds. And it's like some part of you already knew, and already forgave him for it and that was because you knew you had way more blame than him, but you learned to come to terms with it, like you did with many things in your life. Learning to forgive yourself wasn't an easy process, but with the help of a good therapist, you slowly learned how to do it. You were at peace with a few of the things that kept you awake during the night. Slowly getting better.
"I'm sorry." he says and you're sure that more honest words had never left his mouth.
You take his hand into yours and place it on your lap. For the first time since you know him, his hands are cold. You use your other palm as a blanket and cover his hand from the cold winter breeze outside. He nurtured for you enough, it was finally time that you were ready to return the favor.
"I read the book," he says, looking at your hands holding each other.
"Lots of them are inspired from your stories," you refer to the poems, thinking of how many more were written with your mind only thinking about him that didn't even make the cut into the book. "and lots of them are inspired from you." You look into his eyes as he squeezes your hand gently. Maybe you didn't yet know what you wanted. But you knew what you didn't want. And you didn't want to lose San. Not again. Not ever.
"Can I take you out on Thursday?" he asks as his gaze stills down on your warm face. If he asked you this on a bad day, you still weren't sure what your answer would be, but today was a good day. You never got to say goodbye to Hongjoong, but that didn't mean you couldn't say hello to anyone ever again. "You know, in case you need more inspiration for your next masterpiece." he adds and you laugh shortly while nodding quickly. You spend a few more minutes in silence, enduring the cold air, silently revealing to each other the most vulnerable parts of you. You look down at your joined hands and then into his eyes. You smile, partly because you do feel happy, and the rest because you know he'll do the same, and hell, you fucking missed that dimpled smile of his.
The man doesn't say anything when you lean your head on his shoulder, but you are almost sure you can hear his heart beating faster. "I missed you so much." you finally say, letting your feelings pour out in front of San for the first time, leaving you vulnerable in a way no one has seen you since then.
And for the first time, while looking at the bright clear sky above you, you think for yourself that...He would be so proud.
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assiraphales · 7 months
Note
laughing my ass up at the thought of kuina being appointed zoros guardian angel, because if she can't be the greatest swordfighter in the world he HAS to do it and her just constantly cursing and breaking all the overworldly laws to keep him alive despite all of what he does constantly haha. Just constantly being like.. I'll keep you alive for now, but once you die I'll kill you myself twice more for all of this.
in the beginning kuina thinks that it can’t be that bad. he was a hotheaded kid, but in the years since her death he’s come a long way — both in skills and maturity. he leaves the dojo dead set on making his mark on the world. on hunting down dracule mihawk (oh my god is he crazy?? he’s seventeen, talented, but not ready). he immediately gets lost (great), becomes a pirate hunter, makes a name for himself, and is he serious? letting the marines tie him to a post for three weeks? she has her work cut out for her, that’s undeniable, but surely it’ll only get easier from here. THEN he meets luffy
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Text
Nightbringer Surprise Guest
this is exactly the same as my other post, I just thought it wouldn´t make that much of a diference if I changed the original post or just made it again a bit better formated
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Lucifer
I'm feeling good. Why don't we open a bottle of my prized Demonus?
1. Tap Face
2. Rub Head
3. Rub Chest
I know you want to give me a high five, don't you? Fine, just this once. Call it a special occasion.
1. High Five
2. Rub Chest
3. Tap Arm
Mammon
We'll be invincible if we Team up!
1. Rub Face
2. Rub Face
3. Rub Face
Hey, hey, hey! The Great Mammon makes his mark!
1. High Five
2. Rub Head
3. Rub Head
Leviathan
Haha, let's experience tha taste of victory together!
1. Tap Head
2. Rub Face
3. Rub Head
Let's great each other like Normies would!
1. High Five
2. Rub Head
3. Tap Face
Satan
We won thanks to me.
1. Rub Face
2. Tap Chest
3. (Rub/Tap Chest, Tap/Rub Arm, Tap/Rub Head, Rub Face) Tap Face (tried everything and couldn´t get big hearts, might be because high five one gives two?)
Is this how one shares happiness? Give me a high five.
1. High Five
2. Rub Head
3. Tap Chest
Asmodeus
A win for me is as natural as breathing air!
1. Rub Head
2. Rub Chest
3. Rub Arm
Come on, hold out your hand. High five <3
1. High Five
2. Rub Head
3. Rub Face
Beelzebub
Thanks to you, I was able to get through it despite being hungry.
1. Tap Head
2. Tap Head
3. Rub Chest
Not bad, huh? It's time for a victory hamburger!
1. High Five
2. Rub Chest
3. Rub Arm
Belphegor
You want to hang out with me? All right, you got it.
1. Rub Head
2. Rub Face
3. Rub Head
All right... you want me to hold up my hand, right?
1. High Five
2. Rub Head
3. Rub Head
Diavolo
It really does feel good to win, doesn't it!
1. Rub Head
2. Rub Head
3. Tap Head
All right, let's savor the joy of victory... Just you and me!
1. High Five
2. Tap Face
3. Tap Face
Barbatos
Was I of any help to you?
1. Tap Head
2. Tap Head
3. Rub Head
Is this where we do the so-called "high five"? Someone taught me how to do it.
1. High Five
2. Rub Head
3. Tap Head
Solomon
You're my best student, you know? As your teacher, you make me proud
1. Tap Chest
2. Tap Chest
3. Rub Chest
Hey! It felt good to win like that, huh? We make a truly amazing teacher and apprentice team, am I right?
1. High Five
2. Tap Chest
3. Rub Head
Simeon
I'm super excited right now, but how about you?
1. Rub Head
2. Rub Face
3. Rub Arm
How about we see whether exchanging greetings will deepen our bond?
1. High Five
2. Rub Head
3. Rub Face
Luke
...So how was it? Did I look cool?
1. Rub Head
2. Rub Face
3. Rub Arm
Okay here we go! It's time for a high five!
1. High Five
2. Rub Head
3. Rub Head
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Note: side characters didn't get colours because Tumblr doesn't have many and it didn't look as nice with the same once twice
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xstom · 1 year
Text
Thinking about needy!xiao who keeps humping on your thigh while you’re sleeping..
It was 2:39 am, you’re asleep yet xiao isn’t. Seeing your figure sleeping infront of him somehow made his dick hard, it hurts. It hurts fighting the urge to fuck you so hard.
He had no other choice. He picks your thigh up carefully and place it between his leg. He decides to not fuck you but instead to hump on you. It felt great, but it didnt do anything to his dick. He keeps humping trying to reach his high, tears forming in his eyes covering his mouth with his hand hiding his muffled moans.
it goes for a few minutes, until he came. At this point he doesn’t care anymore and then you woke up. You woke up feeling something wet on your thigh. Turning your head around, you see him. You see your poor boyfriend humping on your thigh, crying. You frowned, you felt bad for being a slight heavy sleeper.
“Xiao..” frowning, turning around and holding his face; you stare at them. Without nothing to do so, he holds your hands while trying to unzip his pants. You knowing what he wants you to do, goes down. You let go of his grip and unzips his pants, staring at the big bulge and white, sticky liquid on his boxers . “P-please.. need you.. it hurts..”
“dont worry xiao.. ill help” pulling down his boxers, his dick is hard. You can clearly see it. You give it a few cat licks before putting it in your mouth. Xiao who can’t wait anymore holds the back of your head and push your head towards it making his dick goes in your mouth hitting the back of your throat causing you to gag. “I-Im sorry.. I just cant help it anymore.. y/n”
You groaned a bit, the vibration gave enough wave to make xiao shiver and moaned. You tried to fit his dick in your mouth as full as you can, yet since you can’t anymore you use your hand twirling it around the base of his dick and using your other free hand to massage his balls. That made him weak letting out a few whimpers.
20 minutes goes by, and he came twice. You’re surprised cause he came pretty fast. He seems tired, you think. You released his dick off your mouth licking every seed that got out of your mouth and his dick. He’s so thankful you helped him right away, 10/10 for that.
A/N: heh.. idk if this is good enough since this was made at 2 am but i hope u guys enjoyed it lol.. ngl my writing pretty sucks haha
by the way thanks for 1k likes on my most recent post/blog! i really appreciate it ^^ <;3
© mototoxoxo , 2022 | do not steal/repost on any other social medias, nor plagiarize. interactions are very much appreciated!
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thelunarfairy · 6 months
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Holaaa, First of all I want to tell you that I really like your account and your analysis💖Your points of view are very accurate and you give me my daily dose of hananene, so thank you 🫶
Now let's get to my question, it is not new that AidaIro makes "jokes" about Hanako harassing Nene, however this usually reaches strange limits, let's say, that Hanako tells Kou that he has touched Nene's breasts (clearly a lie) wanting to see up her skirt in a final comic of the Guardians of the Clock arc, hinting at her a lot, in another final mini comic he imagines what it would be like Nene if the water won't affect her (She would clearly be naked and he knows it) I even once saw a user of this app talking about how there is a fairly old mini panel drawn with a pencil in which Hanako wants to imitate a scene with Nene from the romantic movie Ghost (a scene that ends in something sexual) and the most famous imagen:
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Clearly if you see this scene without having some context you are going to think badly, everyone thinks badly, the link I am leaving you is an analysis in which it is mentioned that eating and sex go hand in hand in the manga.
https://www.tumblr.com/theevilthatismokke/698270204867788800/the-myth-of-sumire-and-hakubo-jshk-chapter-94-and
And so we could continue talking about the many times that Hanako makes advances to Nene, to which I asked myself this, is Hanako sexually attracted to Nene? Maybe my question makes you uncomfortable, so if so, don't answer it :), even I feel bad and uncomfortable asking you this, I would just like to know your point of view, I also analyze these characters.
Many greetings from Mexico ☺️
Aww I'm the one who thanks you for your kindness, I'm very happy that you're enjoying my posts >.<
This answer was a little long, so I'm going to put fewer images to avoid making it twice as long, I'm going to rely on your memory on this one haha
Finally someone asked about this, and I'm immensely happy because it's a subject I've wanted to address for a long time. It turns out that I never really went into depth about it because I didn't know if people would feel uncomfortable.
JSHK has very strong and heavy themes, so I try to be cautious when talking about some things, even if I have theories about the topic. But to be honest, I'm thinking about talking to people about it.
Some of these themes are important to the main plot, and their analysis has a very important outcome for us to draw some conclusions about the characters' behavior, but anyway, returning to your question, let's talk about two of these themes, and one of the most controversial.
Hanako died at age thirteen, but he maintained his consciousness and physical presence for over fifty years. People still debate his mental age today, some say he has a mental age equivalent to the age he died, others say he already thinks like an adult.
Hanako has a duality, he will never be just "one" thing always, he is not just a good boy, but he is also not just a bad boy, I can spend hours exemplifying this, but that is not my intention, making it clear that this applies to most of the characters, so since we're talking about his mental age, this applies too.
He acts like a child, not like Tsukasa, but you still see him playing with toys or playing with other people, Hanako likes to have fun. He also has some childish thoughts about some things and does wrong things like a child. Tsuchigomori is sometimes seen teaching him things, as if he were responsible, like when the boy wanted to sell Tsuchigomori's objects without permission to buy a hat, the teacher teaches him that this is wrong and he understands.
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We can clearly see that there is a very childish side to him, but at the same time he also has a more adult side. Let's consider him to be a side younger than an adult properly speaking. Hanako was thirteen years old so he was in puberty, about to leave pre-adolescence and enter adolescence. In fact, sexual desires are common and very latent at this age.
But, we are already talking about two topics, I will separate them so that we can better understand the connection that sex has with hunger.
Let's start by talking about sex.
Hanako clearly has strong and very latent sexual desires, this was made very clear from the beginning, what happens is that the "comic" side of the series leaves this as a situation that is supposed to be "funny" as if it were just a joke. It is common in works to see perverted characters being used as comic relief, but this does not apply to JSHK.
Hanako does indeed have latent desires, the way he acts, the way he behaves and the way he looks at Yashiro is almost always with a lot of desire. Just look at many panels of the manga, the way Hanako looks at Yashiro with desire, as if he was always about to kiss her, the way he is always touching, hugging, putting his arms around her, it's because there is a desire he tries to control.
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The face he made when she was touching him
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I talk more about his desire in this post here
Make no mistake, Hanako has actually touched her breasts a few times, I talk about that in this post here
Hanako doesn't just feel desire for Yashiro, he has a sexual desire that is natural to him, that is, this desire didn't start because of her. He always walks around or finds some suggestive items.
Erotic books (whether with girls in bikinis or magazines teaching what to do at "the right time" such as the magazine that teaches how to reach your girlfriend's G-spot)
Books teaching how to win someone over (like the one he used to help make Yashiro's wish come true) the book was very worn out, which means he read it very often. This indicates that he was wanting to learn to do it with someone (conquer someone).
The Kokeshi doll.
Let me tell you about this doll. There are some meanings behind it, such as the fact that it is used as an amulet to guarantee the protection of children, but at the same time the doll is also associated with sex and the sexual desire of boys, due to its shape.
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On some Japanese sites I found it being linked to use for boys' sexual "relief", if you know what I mean. Not only does Hanako have a kokeshi doll, but he also thinks it's "Sexy." Again, people associated this moment where he says this as comic relief, but the signs are there.
See other examples
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So, let's move on to the sexual desire he feels for Yashiro.
When Hanako was a child, he said that Yashiro was his type, that is, he had been attracted to her since that age (even though he was so young). When Nene met him again when he was older, the first thing Hanako did when they formed a bond was flirt with her, and he flirts very often.
His flirtations are different from those we usually see in other works. He always uses touch when he does, and Nene has noticed this to the point of claiming that he sexually harasses her. Do you see that Yashiro herself noticed this? At first Hanako had no criteria, he actually didn't care about touching her or imagining her naked, trying to look under her skirt or watching her take a shower (despite her turning into a fish).
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And he didn't care because it was purely physical, he actually felt a strong sexual desire for her, even though she wasn't the only one. Yes, Hanako has also touched Aoi-chan, and even talked about the size of her breasts.
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Then, Hanako falls in love with Nene and his way of acting subtly changes. We saw how he was reluctant to go after Yashiro when she went to take a shower with Sumire because he was afraid Yashiro would be mad at him. Do you think he would do this before? Hanako now has feelings for her, so he starts holding back.
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Holding back is something that represents Hanako well.
And we see this all the time, the confirmation that he holds so much back came precisely in the chapter on the mokkes of the dead. Hanako doesn't have his normal consciousness, he's letting himself be carried away by his desire, in this case for sweets, but did you notice that he recognized Yashiro's voice when she called him? And the way he "attacks" her is different from the way he attacks Kou. We clearly see the sexual connotation here, Hanako's desire for Yashiro, and he pursues her until the end.
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The way he "attacks" Yashiro
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the way he attacks Kou
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see his eyes of desire in this last panel
In this chapter we see that just by "relaxing" a little, he already tried to fulfill one of his own desires. Hanako already had several opportunities to kiss Yashiro but he was always holding back, he couldn't hold back any longer during their reunion because he hadn't seen her for a long time, because she risked her own life to see him, she saved him from Teru and She still confessed that she loved him. He couldn't hold back any longer and kissed her.
So, I've been thinking about this whole situation and whether Hanako would start putting pressure on Yashiro if they started dating. If Nene is his girlfriend, he'll be able to tease her, right? I was wondering if this possibility could happen and I started to think so after what happened between Hakubo and Sumire.
So, after an intense kiss between the two, would we see Hanako trying to touch Yashiro? Or even succeeding? Nene is not difficult to convince, and she must know that when she wanted to have a boyfriend, sex would be part of the relationship, the question is, how long could Hanako stay before he started wanting to consummate with her?
This is where I start to talk about the second theme, "hunger".
You sent me the link to a post (very good indeed) talking about the relationship between eating and sex, which are directly linked to JSHK, and it actually makes perfect sense. Aidairo made it very clear that this duality exists and the constant use of this metaphor.
That's because sex and hunger have one thing in common, desire
Everything in JSHK is about desire. Make wishes, fulfill wishes, always wishes.
Hunger and Sex are represented by the desire to obtain, to consume, to obtain something at will. Or are you going to tell me that you don't feel pleasure when you can eat delicious food when you're starving?
Eating is a word that actually has a sexual representation not only in JSHK but also throughout the world. I'll give you a personal example here.
In the country where I live (Brazil) the word "eating" is almost a synonym for sex, depending on the context in which you use it. If you say that you desire or want to "eat" someone, the person listening to you will SURELY understand that you are going to have sexual relations with the other person and that you will be the one who will be on top (active). So, if you come here haha, don't use that term because people will interpret it as being about sex.
I want to eat someone is the same thing that I want to have sex with someone. It's a very popular term even though a lot of people hate it (especially women).
I imagine that in other places in the world the word "eating" could be related to sex too, not just here in Brazil.
So back to JSHK, let's talk about hunger. We know that cannibalism is present in the work too, in addition to the extra arts in which the characters are represented as food or something like that.
We see Hakubo and Sumire's relationship, and we have to admit that the moment Hakubo went to "destroy" Sumire, he ate her. It was very obvious and very clear that it was a sex scene.
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Obviously not in the most common way, but remember that Aidairo literally uses eating to represent sex itself. This is the most explicit example we have in the work (for now).
So let's move on to another topic, the way supernaturals relate to humans is different, of course it's different. Supernaturals like to devour humans and the way they deal with feelings is different but at the same time similar to that of humans.
Hakubo was a supernatural, he was born that way, and he reflected what was part of his nature. He did it the way he liked, he could have destroyed Sumire in any other way, but he chose to eat her, to consume her.
Do you know who is also a supernatural?
Hanako
Even though he was a human and understands better how relationships between humans work and that he can actually fall in love, he is still a supernatural.
Hanako is also hungry, and the whole time he is next to a kannagi girl, and he said that kannagis are delicious for supernaturals.
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Hanako feels desire for Yashiro, he is a supernatural, she is a human with that title, with the blood that supernaturals desire. So, Hanako wants to eat Yashiro?
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What if in the end Hanako has to "consume" Yashiro in the same way as Hakubo and Sumire? It's a possibility.
He has to stop himself from doing that. Which brings me to another point that people don't really like to think about
Hanako's relationship with Tsukasa.
Have you ever stopped to think? Tsukasa is Hanako's yorishiro, and if Nene doesn't remove Tsukasa's seal, will Hanako have to "eat" Tsukasa too?
Tsukasa seems to be looking forward to it.
What kind of relationship did these two have?
I won't delve into that now, let's get back to Nene and Hanako.
Their relationship is troubled, not only because he is supernatural and she is human, but also because of the way this relationship develops. There is a supernatural side to dealing with "love" and "desire" that we don't know about, but which is dangerous.
Hanako desires Yashiro in human form (sexual) and also in supernatural form (hunger), he wants her in the same way that Hakubo desired Sumire. Hakubo was supplying both, wasn't he?
It could be the same thing with Yashiro, it will depend on Hanako and how much he can control himself, which side of him will speak louder? the human side or the supernatural side?
This is the question he fears so much, he is afraid of his supernatural side, and the proof of this is the desire he has to remain sealed because he can control himself.
Hanako's human side wants to touch every part of Yashiro's body, wants to take her as a wife, wants to give and feel the purest pleasure with her, but the supernatural side actually wants to consume her, wants to devour her.
Which of these sides will be able to win in the end?
It's like I said, everything always begins and ends with a wish.
Hahaha the answer was longer than it should have been, sorry, but I loved finally being able to talk about it. There are a lot of things I think about these topics, but I'm still thinking about whether I'm going to talk about it or not, I need to know if the public is okay with it.
A big hug to Mexico from Brazil \o/
I hope you liked it, thanks for the ask! ♡
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gumsnail682 · 7 months
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Ok, so.
I saw some posts about this demon dating sim called "What in hell is bad" I was like "I'm curious so I'll give it a try." I didn't look at or read anything on the game I just went in blind and-
What the fuck!?!?!?!!!
I.. I was not at all expecting how sexual it was! Jesus fucking Christ I was in shock. Who thought of this? Why?
I like it, I like it a lot but Jesus I thought it was gonna be a goofy cute dating sim like Obey me.
Wow.
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I took the quiz thing twice and went with Leviathan. I'm totally not biased because Levi is my favorite in Obey me, why would you ever think that? Haha..
Expect some posts of me simping and sinning over the characters in this game.
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welt except he has a fever and desperately needs sleep
cw: descriptions of illness, high fever, being kinda delirious/out of it, sleep deprivation?, nightmares, headaches, mentions of death
contains spoilers for welt's hi3 lore
also, disclaimer! welt in here is very reluctant to ask for help and feeling bad about it because... well i imagine he'd react like this, BUT! needing help and asking for it is completely normal and valid and okay; please remember that and take care of urself ok!! ily /p
alright, so...
i'm gonna be honest since i found @bugbytez13 's blog welt sickfic ideas don't want to leave my head LMAO except i will write a detailed description of a fic instead of the fic itself. that's it that's the post
tbh this ramble in particular could be made into two separate fanfics (one sickfic and one specifically about the nightmares) but shh
i will forever be self conscious or anxious about things i post that aren't just headcanons or silly little rambles, but also... writing this went surprisingly smoothly so! enjoy the essay or something idk HAHA
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so, about welt...
i just know this man is going to force himself to stay awake. maybe his self-sacrificing issues are less present now, and he doesn't immediately throw himself in danger in every fight ever, but he's still stubborn as hell. so he won't admit something is wrong. he won't admit that maybe getting way too little sleep several days in a row wasn't doing wonders for his immune system and he's now finally feeling the consequences. to be fair, he expected it might end like this, but he didn't want to take breaks - there's still too many things to take care of before they finally head to penacony. and now, he will still insist of taking care of everything, even though his body is basically begging him to go take a nap.
except maybe, he didn't even expect it to get this bad. or thought that he can just power through it. i mean, he's been through much worse, right? this is nothing compared to literally losing his body for some time. but he's sitting in the parlor car, and he's half awake, and unusually cold, and his head is hurting, and keeping up the act is getting harder and harder - but he has to, because the younger members of the crew are here too, even if only march is talking to him.
but they pick up on the fact that something is wrong, of course they do. his eyes are unfocused, he looks like he's about to fall asleep - or pass out - and march had to repeat herself twice for him to even fully process what she was asking him, and so suddenly stelle is next to him, attempting to touch his forehead - and he recoils. "i'm fine," he says, and it's probably a bit too quick and a bit too firm than he'd like it to be, and all of this is stupid, really, because he shouldn't be scared of someone touching him. how hot can it really be anyway if he's feeling so cold, right? but if that wasn't enough dan heng asks an even more dreaded question, "are you sure, mr yang? do you want us to call himeko?" and welt decides it's time to excuse himself, before he makes them even more worried. because even in his present state, he can pick up on the fact they're concerned, but at the same time unsure of what to do, and it makes him feel guilty. of course they're unsure; he's usually their caretaker, and he always knows what to do, and it should never be the other way around. he should've just stayed in his room all day, shouldn't he.
"thank you all for your concern, but i'm alright." he stands up. "now, please excuse me, i still have some work to do." of course that's true, but he's almost certain he won't be able to focus on that- but he just needs an excuse to get out from here and be left alone anyway.
but stelle is right next to him, and looking determined to accompany him to his room, too. "you look like you're about to fall, mr yang," they explain, and he wants to insist that he's okay once again, but realizes he's too tired to do so. it would take him at least a few minutes, and it's a few minutes he doesn't have nearly enough energy for. he just wants to finally lie down. so, he lets stelle essentially escort him into the hallway and to his bedroom, and make sure he doesn't collapse on his way there, and-- it's embarassing, honestly, because it's already so difficult for him to show himeko the slightest hints that something might be wrong, and right now the situation is similar but ten times worse - so it's also ten times harder for him to come to terms with the fact he needs to rely on someone.
"my... apologies for making you all worry," he says quietly when they reach his room, and he's so thankful that he left the lights off, because the parlor car was way too bright, and though the hallway was a bit better, it still wasn't good.
"it's alright," stelle shakes her head, and stands there in the doorway, even as he heads towards his bed and sits down. "i'll ask himeko to check up on you in a bit?" she asks, and he only nods, though he isn't sure if she can actually see it. he doesn't want to talk anymore, he doesn't want to think because even just that seems to make his headache worse, he just wants stelle to leave, he just wants to sleep-- he isn't even sure if he understood her question correctly, but he also doesn't have the energy to care. he falls asleep the moment the door closes behind her, fully clothed and half covered with a thick blanket, but even then he isn't allowed a peaceful rest.
memories from old battles flash before his eyes, silhouettes of enemies he once fought, those against whom he won - but also of those who severly injured or even killed him, and with that come the memories of the pain
and the fear of losing his body again.
when he finally awakens, sweating, shaky for reasons other than his fever, and still feeling pretty awful, it takes him longer than usual to remember where he is. it takes him longer than usual to remember that he's safe.
but now there's medicine and a thermometer on his nightstand, and a note written in himeko's neat handwriting - though he actually spots and reads it some time later - telling him to rest as much as he needs to, because she'll take care of everything; and only after he does read it and feels a sense of relief come over him, he realizes how much the thought of having to leave all the work in order to take a break actually stressed him out. he still feels bad about it, because of course he does, and of course he's going to apologize to everyone later.
but he's also able to sleep more peacefully now.
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milkinthemicrowave · 2 months
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Hey, Doctor Doctor meaning
I made a song called Hey, Doctor Doctor, and it's blown up recently. Thing is, hundreds of people have left me comments confused about what the song means, so I decided to finally put the basic meaning in a text post. Here's a really good animation of the song!! So u can listen :)
youtube
Lyrics:
Hey, Doctor Doctor! Could you tell me what's wrong? I know you're very busy so I won't make this too long I got a question 'bout the rain The fog that just won't go away And something quite absurd That I just learned the other day
I asked my friend a simple question 'bout the rain But then they all went quiet and looked at me in a funny way They asked me what I meant So I described the time I spent Avoiding all the puddles Though I still got wet
They said that morning had been a sunny day I asked the folks around us and they all said the same I sat confused, in my wet socks and shoes I shrugged and said "That's right! The sky wasn't gray, it was blue!"
But doctor doctor It's been so very long Since I've last seen the sun It seems they must just all be wrong Unless it's me who's been confused Then why've my blue skies been refused? And hidden from me by my rainy days?
So... what does it mean????????????????????????
Hey, Doctor Doctor is a simple metaphor about depression. People have also interpreted it as being about the neurodivergent experience and a bunch of other things, and those fit too. But I intended it to be about depression. It's about finding out the things you're struggling with aren't just something everyone deals with. The protagonist (I'll call 'em Pot) has to actively dodge puddles to get anywhere and lives in soggy clothes. When Pot goes "man, that rain's insane right?" to their friend, the friend has no clue what they're talking about. To everyone else, it's sunny outside. They don't have to think twice about where they step. At this point, Pot looks insane to everyone else, like they're hallucinating rain. So, even though their clothes are still dripping wet, they go "yeah haha my bad. you're right, it's sunny outside". In the end, Pot goes to see Doctor Doctor about it. You know in cartoons or that one Ronald McDonald ad where the sad person has the little rain cloud over them? That's the idea. It was raining outside one day and I thought "lmao what if only I could see this, that would be insane". Then I wrote a song about it. I totally see the neurodivergent spin on it, because the part where everyone looks at Pot weird definitely accidentally came from my experiences with diagnosed autism. Sometimes my relatable comedy landed: me: "you ever wake up and your brain feels like sludge?" friend: "yeah bro, all the time"
But sometimes my relatable comedy didn't land: me: "you ever walk across the street without looking when you're having a bad day, like gambling?" friend: "...no???" me: "you don't???" friend: "no?? are you okay??" me: friend: me: "I mean I haven't done that in a long time-" (literally did it last week) Ah, the joys of being neurodivergent. Never knowing what's appropriate to say. "Horrified looks from everyone in the room". If this explanation seems too detailed, I really thought this song was a simple metaphor, so I'm REALLY trying to be clear. Most people get it, but there's still hundreds that have been taking it literally. If you read this far, I'm shocked. Nobody ever uses comments on tumblr, but I'd love it if you commented "umbrella" and let me know you read down here. Thank u immensely for reading this far. So, even though I have literally never talked about it on Tumblr before, and don't expect anyone to see this, that's what my song "Hey, Doctor Doctor" means.
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