사랑하는

moved. blog no longer active.

[kimjihyun-archive]

MOVING TO @akidori

hi everyone!! due to how cluttered this blog has become, i've decided it was time to make a lil move! this blog will now serve as an archive to the fics i wrote here, but you can still access them from the new blog! If you'd like to see more of my content you can find me there!

interactions/follows will now come from my main blog, @elydith but writing will come from @akidori

[kimjihyun-archive]

MOVING TO @kimjihyun

hi everyone!! due to how cluttered this blog has become, i've decided it was time to make a lil move! this blog will now serve as an archive to the fics i wrote here, but you can still access them from the new blog! If you'd like to see more of my content you can find me there!

interactions/follows will now come from my main blog, @elydith

[kimjihyun-archive]

MOVING TO @kimjihyun

hi everyone!! due to how cluttered this blog has become, i've decided it was time to make a lil move! this blog will now serve as an archive to the fics i wrote here, but you can still access them from the new blog! If you'd like to see more of my content you can find me there!

interactions/follows will now come from my main blog, @elydith

[kimjihyun-archive]

MOVING TO @kimjihyun

hi everyone!! due to how cluttered this blog has become, i've decided it was time to make a lil move! this blog will now serve as an archive to the fics i wrote here, but you can still access them from the new blog! If you'd like to see more of my content you can find me there!

interactions/follows will now come from my main blog, @elydith

[tetsuphobia]

“give me the stars”

with saeyoung, in which she is the world.

She is all around him now.

Along the echoed paths of the night and the soft dew of the grass—kissing the endless light of the moon, he worships her. Not for what she is, but for what the Earth has left her to be; for the brittled love in this silence and the strength in this air; for the gentle embrace of navy skies along her skin.

Here, she is an extension of the ground, of the grass, of the breath of life that echoed around him. Here, she is every constellation dotting the night sky and every flower blooming under the moon. Here, she is his breath, the liquid running through his veins, the very thing keeping him from falling victim to the soil beneath his flesh.

It’s her delicate touch and his ache of desire that draws him towards her—the idea that she is everything under the midnight stars, that she is the celestial bodies that soak through his skin.

And as she stretches her hands towards the sky, tells him of the world above while breathing that below him, he knows that freedom (the true and brilliant kind that can only be found when diving face-first into the abyss of the unknown) is born from this; is born from her.

And as her fingers, steady and rimmed with blossoms of life, grasp the sides of his cheeks, her lips finding each and every freckle dotting his skin—he knows that she is the stretch of unknown within him. She is his freedom, and his love, and his kindness and strength. She is the beginning and the end and the embrace of the journey. She is here and she is his.

“Tell me again,” he’ll say, as if he hasn’t heard her talk about this a thousand times over; as if he hasn’t memorized the way every constellation falls upon her lips. He knows the way her tongue slides between her teeth at sound of Orion and the gasp of breath that swallows Ophiuchus. He has committed every piece of her to memory, but he begs to hear the words again and again—to hear the sound just as he had before. 

“Saeyoung,” she’ll laugh, stretching her arms high above her head, fingertips tugging at hanging stars. “Again?” It’s a tease more than anything. An ‘are you that encapsulated by the stars, my love?’ But he’ll hum without so much as a thought, nodding as the laugh falls from her lips. 

And she’ll tell him, again and again, over and over, of each and every star in the sky. And he’ll listen, as if she is the one to grant him the pieces of life that the Earth has given her; as if she is an extension of the ground, of the grass, of the very sky above; as if she has given him the stars.

taglist: @dis-gorl @decayz @zenicksnina @atheneum

hi i’m just popping in to add this to @gureishi ‘s love you more than words event! i love saeyoung very much and i’ll probably pop in with saeran at one point or another, but for now, thank you for holding such a lovely event :) i’m super excited to participate!

[kimjihyun-archive]

MOVING TO @kimjihyun

hi everyone!! due to how cluttered this blog has become, i've decided it was time to make a lil move! this blog will now serve as an archive to the fics i wrote here, but you can still access them from the new blog! If you'd like to see more of my content you can find me there!

interactions/follows will now come from my main blog, @elydith but writing will come from @kimjihyun

[kimjihyun-archive]

MOVING TO @kimjihyun

hi everyone!! due to how cluttered this blog has become, i've decided it was time to make a lil move! this blog will now serve as an archive to the fics i wrote here, but you can still access them from the new blog! If you'd like to see more of my content you can find me there!

interactions/follows will now come from my main blog, @elydith but writing will come from @kimjihyun

[rfadaydreaming]

@rfadaydreaming -> @mimiun

hi everyone, i’m stopping in to say that i’m moving blogs !!! my new writing blog is @mimiun and yes the rqs i got here will be moved over there instead, so don’t worry about that. this blog and my posts will remain up but i will be redoing a lot of my old posts and revamping them onto there so... eventually i might take this blog down, but for now this will be kinda like an archive instead<3

[waraable]

doodles

[kimjihyun-archive]

Ayo... jihyun date headcanons?? 👉👈

YES your wish is granted, throwing a little actual date and dating ones together for fun

∴,*⋅✲ jihyun kim date headcanons

he likes to pick out what you wear. it’s a stupid little thing, but he finds joy in knowing that he knows you well enough to figure exactly what you’d look good in. super attentive to colors and patterns and what suits both your style and shape. he never misses. you always look good.

definitely split between a fancy restaurant and little hole-in-the-wall cafe kinda guy when it comes to dates. it really just depends on how both of you are feeling and what sounds like fun. you wanna wear the nicest silk dress shirt you’ve ever seen? perfect. the idea of wearing anything more than a pair of jeans seems terribly draining? that’s okay too!! to him, it doesn’t really matter where you’re going, as long as you’re comfortable being there :)

you constantly have to save him from being flirted with while you’re out. he’s not hugely recognizable, but there’s definitely a few times where you walk away for a moment and someone decides they’re gonna make their move on the cool famous artist. he always looks really really uncomfortable and as soon as you come back he hits them with the “oh!! let me introduce you to my girlfriend!!!” you make fun of him for it. as you should.

he’s a classic romantic. cute little vacations, flowers in hand as he knocks on your door, love letters when he’s away. he really can’t help himself. he likes the way you light up at the gestures, likes the way your voice seems so bright when he calls you while he’s away. he’s down incredibly bad and it just makes him happy!

he rambles a lot when he talks to you. he’ll go on and on about the books he’s read, or paintings he’s working on, or little things that wouldn’t usually matter. on a usual basis, he’s terribly conscious of his presence and how much he speaks, but he’s comfortable with you!! he loves that you seem interested!! please god respond and indulge him a little bit. he loves it. absolutely loses his mind.

so incredibly nervous about everything in the earlier parts of your relationship. i know, i know, he’s done this before, but he’s done it with rika. and there’s this little feeling that everything that ever happened between him and rika is wrong, so now, with you, he’s not so sure about anything. is it okay to buy flowers like this? how often should he call when he’s away? is he making you uncomfortable? he definitely needs a lot of reassurance that he’s not crossing any lines just by existing sometimes and it takes a while for him to get to the point of comfort that you know now.

dates and casual dating are kind of a skipped step in your relationship since you’re, y’know, already living in his house, but he tries his best!! he takes you out when he can, buys you little gifts that are always way more well thought out than one would think, and he’s incredibly patient! he’s a gentleman and we love him for it.

terrible, terrible flirt once he’s comfortable. whispers so close to your ear that you can hear his breath, always has a comfortable hand on your waist at events. he’s always incredibly well put together, but he has a deep love for watching you become completely undone. but, alas, he can never handle it in return, so flirt right back at him. watch him turn red <3

[r-e-i-i]

summer vacation chatroom meme

[kimjihyun-archive]

What if I

Told you

Someone's slowly going gay for you

i am both honored and afraid hello anon

[rosetz413]

winter ❄❄❄

[kimjihyun-archive]

sav seeing more of my naked body than anyone else ever is kinda funny ngl 

[bloodpacks-archive]

HEY HEY HEY CONTEXT PLEASE CONTEXT

[kimjihyun-archive]

okay i’m sorry here’s context 

[kimjihyun-archive]

sav seeing more of my naked body than anyone else ever is kinda funny ngl 

[eyemint]

shut up slut

[kimjihyun-archive]

hey.... 35 with jihyun??

i love you, i love you, i love you

pairing: jihyun “v” kim x reader

wc: 1.3k

warnings: just a little hurt comfort!! they kiss :)

note: me? with a v fic? yes yes i am back!! i have so many requests to get through but i’ve missed this man more than life itself so !!

Jihyun awakens early that morning, even for him.

It’s barely dawn as he rolls over, the sun just breaking through the horizon, adorning the room in faded oranges and vibrant blues. He’s not quite sure why he’s awake as he palms at his eyes, but when his gaze meets her frame—draped in sky-soaked sheets, hair pooling at the ridges of her shoulders—he decides it doesn’t matter all that much.

She’s more than he ever could’ve wished her to be. Her presence is constant, unwavering, a dig in the back of his mind that feels like diving into cold water. It’s torn him to pieces—splaying out fragments in front of her—and yet she’s gentle with each one, a puzzle between delicate fingertips.

He’s always claimed to be an artist, but the idea of such a thing makes him laugh now. The way she’s assembled a mosaic from his skin, the way her fingertips paint at every scar, every blemish, every piece of him that he’d cursed for being there—

She’s much more of such than he could ever wish to be.

Yet, she stirs beside him and he holds his breath, hoping not to wake her so early. Her face is still soft with the lure of unconsciousness, but her hands twitch and her fingers stumble as they reach across the mattress—as they reach for him. He’s quick to oblige, allowing her to wrap her arms around his torso and bury her nose into his collar.

Part of him wishes to kiss her then—to drop his head low and press his lips to the flash of sunlight across her cheeks, or the skin just behind her ear. Part of him wishes to hum soft words into her skin—to tell her I love you, I love you, I love you until he’s memorized the way his voice reverberates against her flesh.

But he lingers there, silent and still, eyes flicking over her skin. He can feel her breath along the side of his neck and the way her fingers tangle into the hem of his shirt—a reminder that yes she is here, and yes she is his. She, in all of her grace, in all of her kindness, and humility, and wonder—is here with him, swallowed by the hum of dawn.

His fingers dance at the top of her hipbone, pressing into soft skin as goosebumps follow his touch. He’s careful—as if there’s porcelain beneath his hands—but warmth splays under him and he’s melted by the feeling, just as he always is.

And as the sheets begin to pool at her waist, something terribly needy begins to grip him. His head hangs low, the smell of her shampoo (a lavender one she’s always used religiously) heavy in his nose. He presses his lips to her forehead and gentle hesitation sprouts throughout his body, but he continues along the side of her face, kisses falling down to her jaw.

She moves then: an arch in her back with a sudden intake of breath, and he curses himself for the way he’s drawn to her. Her eyes are slow to flutter open, but he still freezes at the sight of them, fixed on the way they sparkle in morning blues.

A gentle sound falls from her lips as she reaches up, soft fingers brushing against his jaw.

“Oh, I’ve awoken you, haven’t I?” He leans into her touch, his skin humming against the warmth of hers. “I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head, a drowsy smile soft upon her cheeks.

“Don’t apologize. Now I get to see you.” He laughs at the statement—warm and breathy and drawn low in the air of the morning.

“What?” She murmurs, her face falling back into the crook of his neck. “I’m completely serious.” He can hear the pout in her voice, but a snort is quick to follow suit.

And yet there’s an ache in this—a soft, tender thing that twists in his bones and soaks through his flesh and sings to parts of him that he nearly forgets are there. It’s in the way her voice falls around him, in the way the sunlight, just barely bright enough to tear through the curtains, spills swirling patterns across her skin, in the way this feels so terribly sweet and kind and real.

When did he begin to deserve this? How could he ever deserve this? It’s a whisper that lingers, a thought that licks at the back of his skull. He wishes to love her, to adorn her in everything she could ever desire, but the voice in the back of his head will forever ask him why he should have the honor of doing such; why should he get to feel the warmth of her patience and the buzzing of her touch; why should he—

“You’re thinking, aren’t you?” She hasn’t moved from her spot, the tip of her nose tickling at the skin just below his jaw. It doesn’t take so much as a glance for her to reach through the pieces of him that have fallen across their sheets; it never does.

“I…” He knows better than to lie to her, but as he opens his mouth to speak, something dies in his throat.

“The usual?” She asks, her shoulders arching back with a stretch as she turns to look up at him.

“The usual,” he replies.

She sighs, a soft breath spilling across the room, the heat laying over his skin. Her shoulders twist with a stretch and she looks up at him, meeting his gaze through the darkness.

“Oh, Jihyun.” Her voice is nothing more than a hum, a whisper in the morning. “Do you ever let yourself rest?”

No.

“Of course. Aren’t I resting right now, my love?” He regrets the attempt at humor as soon as the words fall from his lips and her mouth winds lightly into a frown.

“You know what I mean,” she scorns. He sighs, falling back into the pillows, his skin twisting with the silk of his sheets. She’s quick to follow him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as her lips meet his cheek, his temple, the corner of his mouth.

“I do.” His voice, in the light of the morning, as the sun crawls its way into the sky, is barely his voice at all. It creaks with a sound so terribly weak that he can’t help but clear his throat after his breath hits the air.

“I love you,” she hums into his skin and he can feel the way her voice reverberates throughout his flesh. “Now—” Her mouth meets his with a kiss soft enough to melt him into the mattress below them. “And forever.” The words buzz so strongly against his face that he twitches at the sound, his fingers reaching for the sides of her hips.

“And you deserve that.” Another—this time barely the ghost of her lips against his, but it’s enough to shake him to his core. “You will always deserve that.”

He has no words to say, no awful form of self-deprecation to speak. His mind is quiet, his mouth unmoving. His fingertips lace endless shapes into her skin, each one lingering in the air between them.

He wishes to hum soft words into her skin, to tell her of the endless ways he loves her, to be her strength and her will and the humility he so adores. But this morning, in the gentle blues of their bedroom, she will give that to him. She will dull the ache that crawls so deeply through his bones and he, ignoring all that seems righteous to him, will accept each word that leaves her mouth. She will be his strength, and his will, and his humility.

And though he hates to admit it—hates to hear that he should have anything more than the absolute minimum—he will hear that she loves him, over and over, just as he deserves.

taglist: @zenicksnina @bloodpacks @dis-gorl @decayz