#drabble 1.

[arcsomi-blog]

loud, angry chattering accompanied by a godawful, annoying whine is the first thing you hear ( and, you assume bitterly, the culprit that forcibly woke you up in the first place ), eyes feeling too heavy just yet to open. your head is spinning, your body feels like the thickest molasses. you can barely catch on to what’s being muttered.

“you fucking idiots, what the hell? one night. all you needed to do was cut back on your shit for one night so she could get high properly.”

“fuck, man, we know, okay? we know! but- but it’s hard--”

“you people are unbelievable. how come she can do it, but you can’t? fuckin’ weak--”

“hey!”

“weak. shit, you couldn’t even bother to set her right? she could’ve choked! acting like fucking amateurs, jesus. god, the one night she lets herself go--- shit, she’s waking up,”

“somi?” the voice is closer now, you can hear it clearly. it’s too loud, though-- god, way too loud, and the ringing in your ears won’t quit. for christ’s sake, you just want to keep sleeping. “oh, somi, baby, i know you’re tired, but you gotta wake up now, okay? somi? please, babe, you’ve been asleep forever. you need to drink water, eat, come on.”

you grumble, whine, hear a soft chuckle as a response. you finally manage to start opening your eyes, and your ‘boyfriend’ ( that’s what he is, right? technically ) has the decency to partially shield your eyes from the sun shining through the window. he only pulls it away when your eyes are fully open and you’ve blinked away as much as the bleariness as you can, his hand instead trailing down to gently cup your cheek. eyes focused on him, brows slightly tugged together, lips pressed into a line, and you are hit with the crushing realization that you are one hundred percent, absolutely, completely and undeniably sober.

“shit,” you barely recognize your own voice, cracked, broken, scratchy from lack of use. “how long have i been out...?” you’re met with various shrugs, while your boyfriend shakes his head, gesturing that he wasn’t entirely sure either. “enough to get yourself sober, apparently. you’ve got that look in your eye, sweets.” and his smile is so, so charming, awake and bright that you would swear on your life that he was just as sober as you were.

“c’mon, up, we gotta move. someone” he looks pointedly at one of your mutual friends, junji, “made too much noise, someone might’ve called the cops. you’re always telling us we can’t risk getting caught, remember, baby?” and it’s as if a switch flips at the mention of being caught; you’re bolting up with your heart in your throat, feeling ready to throw it up at any moment. his arms are wrapped around you in a heartbeat, pressing you tightly against his chest to ease your anxiety. he shushes you softly, pets your hair and murmurs for you to relax, before he’s helping you up on your feet.

“go wash up, okay? it’ll help wake you up, i’ll pack your things,” it feels like the world is moving around you too fast, everything is happening around you while you fight to catch up. two of your friends are at your side, guiding you to the tiny bathroom. they’re apologizing, you realize, but you don’t really care, and your nonsensical mumbling manages to get that point across. 

 it takes you a few minutes to wash up, and you mistakenly take a second to look at yourself in the mirror while you’re sober. you’re barely recognizable; the circles under your eyes have never been darker, your face is sickly slim, cheeks terribly hollow. you’re so, so pale; you haven’t been this pale in so long. you used to be so youthful looking-- you used to glow, you used to be wonderfully tan, sunny, healthy. you don’t remember ever seeing yourself so frail, so fucking sickly. for fuck’s sake, you used to be an athlete. a talented, agile, strong athlete. you used to be such a happy person over all; you wonder with a heavy conscious where the excited, bright ten year old you is. you wonder when was the last time you looked genuinely joyful and excited to live your life. 

your heart sinks to the bottom of your chest. you need to get sick all over the sink is overwhelming. “hey, babe, we gotta-- jesus, you’re green!” your boyfriend rushes into the bathroom behind you, eyes trained on your physique on the mirror. “don’t worry, baby. when have we ever let you go through withdrawal? take a second to breathe, i’ll meet you outside. we’ll get you something soon, babe, i promise.” and he disappears with a promising smile.

with one more look at yourself in the mirror, you swallow back whatever was trying to come up and leave, praying to every god listening your boyfriend stays true to his word. whoever you used to be was long dead, but that didn’t mean you wanted to be aware of it.

[playful-jungyonghwa]

Tease

"Kiss me all over," Yixing whimpers out, his lower back arching as Yonghwa trails his lips down the male's pale chest, lips catching on one of his pert nipples. Teasing the small bud, his teeth scrape along the sweet-tasting skin as his tongue peeks out, flicking out against Yixing's nipple. He only continues his journey south when Yixing's desperate moan of, "Y-Yonghwa, stop teasing," reaches his ears, his hands grabbing a bit roughly onto his backside. He tugs Yixing down closer and leaves no room for hesitation, his hands groping that wonderfully curved ass of his; kneading, massaging, and everything in between, eliciting sweet moans from the other's lips.

Lifting one of his lover's legs up, Yonghwa let his tongue slide out, wetting his plump lips before pressing them against Yixing's addicting thigh. He caresses his lips in the gentlest of manners, breath hot and heavy against the inner most part of his thigh before he bares his teeth, sinking into the soft flesh, hard enough to bruise his lover as his. Yixing squirms, panting out curses and whines of Yonghwa's name, his thighs being particularly sensitive to the touches being given. 

Yonghwa nips along, little red marks and small bruises lying in his wake, as he lifts Yixing higher up by his legs, locking the long limbs around his shoulders. "You're so... addicting," Yonghwa growls in a low, husky voice as he presses a light kiss over Yixing's slightly puckered entrance.  Yonghwa spreads Yixing's legs open further out onto the bed now and touches the tip of his tongue against his entrance, earning him a delectable gasp. Yonghwa grins and licks around the rim while splaying his hands over his lover’s ass, successfully spreading him apart even further. He nibbles playfully on the puckered skin before surprising Yixing by shoving his tongue as far up his tight, little hole as he could. Yixing moans, head thrashing from side to side at the slick, wet feeling of Yonghwa’s tongue inside his body. Yonghwa wriggles his tongue around, pulling out slowly to lick around the rim again and then delves back into Yixing's body. When he adds a finger in to play a few minutes later, Yixing practically screams. Yonghwa laps around his finger, sliding it deep inside and groaning at the hot, tight feel of Yixing's body clenching around him before pulling out. He watches as Yixing's hole clenches and unclenches around nothing, then finds himself chuckling playfully when Yixing moans in protest.

"I'm just a tease, baby, want more?" Yonghwa smirks deviously, his tongue sliding over his lower lip slowly. "Then beg."