#( GOD. so much longer than it's meant to be )
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Strawberry Cow ! Chan đ¸đđ¸
he's not just any kind of hybrid...he's the first ever 'male' cow you've ever met. chan's a sweetheart, even more so when he's milked...
(i was suppozed to write this a year ago and finally here it is, enjoy lovelies <333)
reblogging > liking
-contains mildly suggestive themes
Hybrids were pretty much accepted into this world of ours. they were treated like humans, with respect (most of the time) and accepted into society quite easily.
And somehow you found yourself accidently conversing with one particular male hybrid.
he was handsome.
so incredibly beautiful, it made you question if he was even real.
two horns on either side of his head and a pair of fluffy white ears twitched beneath them. it wasn't a white that hits the eye, it was a white that looked like freshly whipped cream. with soft fur that was slightly longer than usual.
you weren't quite sure what species he was. it was difficult to make out and honestly nervewracking to ask a hybrid that kind of question.
it was almost the same as asking a human if they were a person of colour, as if they were of ethnic descent.
he could be a gazelle? maybe a buck?
but his horns weren't so sleek and thin. they were neither black in colour.
instead his thicker horns were a complete contrast to his dark hair.
a bull, maybe? or did he dye his hair?
you were about to lose your mind.
"I'm actually a cow hybrid..." he let out so quietly, with a nervous smile. Damn, he was too beautiful for his own good.
"I've never seen a cow hybrid" you mutter without much thought.
instantly regretting your statement upon seeing his awkward stance.
"no no i meant i've never seen a cow hybrid as handsome as you" waving your hands dramatically to clear the tense air.
"as...handsome as..me?" he mumbles and you were sure your heart stopped beating.
"oh god it was wrong of me to assume what you are and how you'd prefer to be addressed-"
your voice dying down as you hear him laugh.
its such a soft laugh, it goes straight to your heart. neither mocking nor a loud one. soothing to the ears.
"i'm sorry if i'm so shaky...its been a long time since anyone has ever..complimented me..."
you sighed in relief, letting a smile creep up on your face. his cheeks dusted with a light shade of pink and you knew you looked as shy as him.
The small coffee joint was beginning to crowd and it seemed that neither of y'all liked crowded spaces.
the cow hybrid slowly stood up, straightening his posture and your eyes widened.
he was well built, a good height compared to yours and his muscles were defined enough to leave an imprint on the shirt he was wearing. loosely buttoned up and hanging low on his collar. Black really was his colour...
you mentioned his build, complimenting him to the point his ears were redder than ever. shy little giggles escaping his plush lips. gosh...
his lips made you want to kiss him senseless.
"could we..uhm...be friends or uh more...i mean-" he mumbles, stuttering so sweetly.
"of course, darling. but you never quite told me your name?" you coo.
"I'm chan or...you can..call me chris"
he smiled continously as you told him your name and how you come by here often.
his ear twitching excitedly when the two of y'all share phone numbers. promising to keep in touch in the days to come.
.
đ¸
.
Chan was a lot different from your first meeting. considering the fact that nearly a month or more than a month had passed.
you happened to find out how much a hybrid like him had to go through. to you, he was an ordinary cow hybrid. but chan explained how the term 'ordinary' never existed in his vocabulary.
of course you knew he was a male but what did not strike you was the fact that he shouldve been called a bull.
Instead he was classified under cow, making him a proper cow hybrid.
Taking into consideration that he was also a male, made it difficult for him to lead his life as usual. bodily changes and phenomenon occurring during certain periods made the poor hybrid's life tougher.
Cases like him were rare, not exactly non existent.
.
.
His room was unimaginably aesthetic. changing colours that faded to pink and purple, sometimes gold.
one thing you realised was his love for the colour black. laughing when he opens his cupboard. it was a black hole in there with numerous clothes lined up.
making yourself comfortable on his bed, you noticed how on-edge he was. his behaviour much different, extra shy as he sheepishly sat beside you. your backs resting against the wooden headboard.
"why'd you call me here, channie?" you asked, smiling at the way his thin sleek tail swished around.
his eyes gaze at you with such pureness, you blurt out another statement.
"I mean, i'd spend my entire day or even week with you if you wanted! but i just got a bit worried because you called me here oit of the blue, baby"
reassuring him while patting his knee lovingly.
"I..I wanted to come c-clear about myself"
you nodded, urging him to go on. he pauses, looking at you for a few seconds. theres this nervousness in his energy and you scooch closer to him.
"I lactate...almost every four days, sometimes every two days depending on tge weather..." gazing at you sweetly.
"yes, im aware channie"
"you know about-" his eyes widen, surprise in his tone.
"of course I do, did you really think I wouldn't find ways to help you after you told me how hard your day to day life is"
you joked lightly.
"if i don't...milk myself every now and then, I feel full. like heavy.."
you squeeze his hand fondly, interlocking your fingers.
"do you do it manually? or do you use some kind of device?"
from his expression and body language, you could see him grow comfortable.
"manually...pumps are quite the price"
you gasp, wondering if you pried a little too deep. chan takes it as you being weirded out but you stop him before he starts overthinking.
"no no no sweerheart, i was just surprised that you did it manually for so many years"
"i've tried a pump once or twice...but i don't like the feeling...it made me feel like an object..." he pauses, cheeks turning pink as ever before he continues.
"whenever i...uhm my chest swells and gets really sensitive..."
well that was new info to you.
"like mine?" you let out, laughing as his ears twitch and he blinks furiously.
"w-what do you mean-"
"I meant like does your chest get to like my size? i'm pretty average but does yours get bigger?"
the strawberry cow hybrid blushed.
"it depends! on m-my mood and..uhm everything"
.
đŹ
.
"Chris?! what's wrong?"
worry filling your mind. the hybrid looked distressed and out of his senses. sweating profusely.
"its n-nothing, I don't feel so good" he tried to reassure although it wasn't quite reassuring to you.
his fluffy ears were lopsided and his tail swished around desperately
you cupped his face gently. his reaction waw everything. nuzzling into your palm. it was obvious. it was happening.
"channie. baby look at me"
you urged, making him focus on you. and only you.
"do you want me to help you?"
"help...help with milking me? p-please?" his tone gentle and he uttered a small plea.
"just place your hand h-here and massage slowly"
his bigger hand held onto yours as he pressed your palm flat on his chest. he was right. his chest was swell and warmer than ever.
"do you mind, baby.."
obediently he held his shirt between his teeth. gnawing on the material. you let your hand run over his toned abdomen. feeling up his tense muscles.
"y-you're so fit, channie" he grunted softly.
his milk running down your fingers slowly. with every massage, more seeped out of his pretty nubs.
unconciously you stuck your tongue out, licking up the droplets that rolled down the expanse of his chest.
"ah don't let it g-go to waste p-please please"
begging you to drink more. his hands squeezing yours. whining so sweetly as you sucked his pumped up chest. his breathing quick and shaky.
god, you wanted to corrupt him...
.
.
.
.
.
.
fuck...part 2?
should i?!
this concept to me, is so hot!!!!!
#cow hybrid chan#chan lactation kink#bang chan MOO#fluffylino loves this concept#u don't know how much i love hybrid!chan#strawberry cow channieee#he needs to me MILKED#bang chan smut#bang chan imagines#chan imagines#chan smut#sub!bang chan#switch!chan#switch!reader#stray kids smut#skz smut#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#skz drabbles#stray kids headcanons#stray kids hybrids#stray kids hybrids au#bang chan hybrid#fluffylino works#fluffylino's masterlist#bang chan fluff#bang chan tiddies#bang chan sleeveless#christopher bang#skz fluff
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Death Grips. III - R.C
Dark!Frat!Rafe Cameron x f!reader
Warnings: Dv( physical abuse),NONCON, Mentions of Dv, Cheating, mentions of cheating, abusive relationship, gaslighting, manipulation, frat!rafe, blackmail, emotional abuse, underage drinking, heâs an asshole guys
Summary: inspired by âdeath gripsâ by Etta Marcus/ After a messy break up with Rafe Cameron your freshman year of college, he canât seem to leave you alone. Whether youâre awake or asleep
Series Masterlist
A/n: hey guys, I just got back from out of the country so this took me a little longer than I wanted it to but hope u enjoy and pls leave feedback and lmk how u like it whether itâs an anonymous ask, reblog or comment I do read all feedback and try to incorporate what you guys suggest!
Part: III
âŚâŚ.
The beach was alive with noise and chaos. Voices carried across the sand, blending with the pounding of the waves and the crackle of the bonfire. The night should have felt carefree and fun even, but as soon as you saw Rafe leaning against a log near the fire, his easy laugh cutting through the hum of the crowd, it was like every muscle in your body locked up.
You froze, but Mia nudged you forward, obliviousâor maybe just willfully blind. âCome on,â she said with a grin, already scanning the crowd for Topper. âHeâs not going to do anything. Just stick with me.â
You didnât respond. Your eyes stayed locked on Rafe as he glanced up and noticed you. His reaction was immediateâhis laugh froze mid-sound, his blue eyes narrowing just slightly before he recovered. He raised his beer in a lazy toast, smirking in your direction.
Mia didnât notice. âSee? Heâs being chill. Youâre fine,â she said breezily, dragging you toward the fire.
But you didnât feel fine.
At first, you stayed on the outskirts, keeping your distance and nursing the drink someone shoved into your hand. You told yourself you were just being paranoid, that Rafe wasnât paying any attention to you. But it was impossible to shake the feeling of his eyes brushing over you whenever you moved too close to the firelight.
It wasnât long before he was beside you.
âHey,â he said, his voice casual, almost soft.
You didnât look at him. âWhat do you want?â
âIâm not trying to bother you,â he said quickly, hands raised as if to show he meant no harm. âI justâlook, I wanted to say Iâm sorry. For everything.â
You stiffened. âWhat?â
âI mean it,â Rafe said, his voice dropping. âI know I messed up. Iâve been⌠I donât know. Trying to figure my shit out.â He took a step closer, his gaze steady. âI just want us to be cool. Thatâs all.â
âCool,â you repeated flatly. âRight. Sure.â
You wanted to walk away, to shut him down and make it clear he wasnât welcome. But something in his toneâhis softness, his willingness to admit fault made you hesitate. It wasnât like him.
âI mean it,â he said again, holding your gaze. âYou donât have to forgive me, but I donât want things to be like this. It doesnât have to be so⌠heavy.â
You didnât answer. You couldnât trust him. Heâd proven that over and over. But he didnât press. He just lingered, staying close but not too close, offering you drinks every time your cup got low.
You didnât realize how much youâd had to drink until you were laughing at somethingâGod knows whatâwith a girl you barely knew. The firelight blurred, the edges of the world softening as the alcohol worked its way through your system.
Rafe wasnât far, leaning against a log a few feet away, his eyes on you.
âYouâre finally relaxing,â he said, his voice light as he moved closer.
You rolled your eyes. âDonât make it weird.â
He smirked, holding his hands up in surrender. âNot trying to. Just saying itâs nice to see you like this. Youâre always so tense around me.â
âDamn, I wonder why,â you shot back, though your words were starting to slur.
He laughed, low and warm. âFair point.â
Before you could respond, he tilted his head toward the darker stretch of beach beyond the fire. âLetâs go for a walk. Too loud here.â
âNo thanks,â you said immediately, shaking your head.
âCome on,â he pressed, his tone light but insistent. âIâm not gonna hurt you. I just want to talk. No bullshit, I promise.â
You hesitated. Part of you screamed to stay by the fire, to not let him pull you away from the safety of the crowd. But the alcohol muffled your thoughts, loosening your grip on the fear that always kept you guarded around him.
Against your better judgment, you nodded.
The sound of the party faded as you walked, the waves swallowing the noise until it was just the two of you under the moonlight. You stumbled slightly, the uneven sand throwing you off balance, but Rafeâs hand steadied you.
âCareful,â he murmured, his voice closer than you realized.
âIâm fine,â you muttered, shrugging off his hand.
He didnât let go immediately, his fingers lingering on your arm for a moment too long before he finally stepped back.
When you stopped walking, he turned to face you, his expression unreadable.
âI miss you,â he said softly.
You blinked, the words not quite registering at first. âWhat?â
âI miss us,â he said, his voice low and almost vulnerable. âI know I screwed up. I know I hurt you. But I want to fix it.â
You stared at him, the alcohol dulling your initial burst of anger. âAre you serious?â
âIâm not asking you to forget everything,â he said quickly. âI justâI want another chance. I can be better. I know I can.â
You laughed, sharp and bitter. âAnother chance? Are you insane?â
âIâm serious,â he said, stepping closer. âIâve been working on myself. Iâve been tryingââ
âYouâre fucking delusional,â you snapped, cutting him off. The alcohol loosened the words, pulling them out of you before you could stop. âYou cheated on me. You hit me. You made me feel like I was nothing. And now you want me to just⌠what? Forget all of that and give you another chance?â
Rafe flinched, the softness in his expression hardening into something sharper. âI was messed up back then. I didnât know how toââ
âNo,â you said, your voice shaking with anger. âYou knew exactly what you were doing. You always knew. And you loved it.â
âDonât act like you didnât have a part in it,â he said, his voice rising. âYou knew how to push my buttons. You knew how to make me lose my shit.â
You took a step back, your body trembling. âYouâre disgusting.â
The silence between you stretched, heavy and suffocating. For a moment, you thought he might lash out, that heâd grab your arm or raise his voice. But instead, he smiledâcold and sharp, the boyish charm replaced by something cruel.
âYouâre drunk,â he said simply, stepping closer. âIâll give you a pass. But youâre not over me. You never will be.â
You turned and walked away, the sound of his laughter following you as you stumbled back toward the fire. You didnât care if you looked unsteady or ridiculous; all you cared about was putting as much distance between you and him as possible.
When you reached the edge of the crowd, Mia was nowhere to be seen. Your stomach twisted, a fresh wave of anger rising as you realized sheâd probably disappeared with Topper again, leaving you to fend for yourself.
Your hands shook as you grabbed your bag, your breaths coming in uneven gasps. You didnât look back toward the dark stretch of beach where Rafe still stood, watching you.
~~~~~~
You slammed the door of your dorm shut, the sound echoing through the small space. Your clothes still smelled faintly of bonfire smoke, your hair damp from the salt air, but none of that mattered. The only thing you could focus on was the lingering sensation of Rafeâs smirk, his words still ringing in your ears.
âYouâre not over me. You never will be.â
The audacity made your stomach churn, and as you tossed your bag onto your bed, you couldnât stop your hands from trembling. You needed to talk to someone to make sense of everything that had happened at the beach. But when Mia walked through the door minutes later, her laughter bubbling over as she scrolled through her phone, something inside you snapped.
She looked up, startled. âWhoa. Whatâs with the death glare?â
âWhere the hell were you?â you snapped, unable to hold it anymore.
The smile on her face faded instantly. âWhat?â
âAt the beach,â you said, your voice shaking. âYou said weâd stick together, that you wouldnât leave me alone, and then you disappeared with Topper like it was nothing.â
Miaâs brow furrowed, her confusion quickly morphing into defensiveness. âHold on, what happened? Did Rafeââ
âWhat do you think happened?â you snapped, cutting her off. âHe cornered me, got me drunk, and then tried to tell me he wants me back. And you werenât there, Mia. You left me alone with him.â
She blinked, clearly caught off guard. âOkay, but nothing actually happened, right? I mean, youâre here, youâre fineââ
âFine?â The word came out sharp, almost bitter. âAre you kidding me? You know what heâs like, Mia. You know how much heâs put me through, and you still dragged me there like it didnât matter. Youâre literally fucking his best friend.â
Her mouth opened, then closed, like she wasnât sure how to respond. âItâs not like that,â she said finally. âTopperâs not Rafe, and I thoughtââ
âYou thought what?â you interrupted, your voice rising. âThat Iâd just magically be okay? That Iâd be fine hanging out with my abusive ex at a party while you played house with his best friend?â
âAbusive?â she repeated, her eyes widening slightly.
You froze, realizing the word had slipped out before you could stop it. But there was no taking it back now. âYeah,â you said, your voice quieter now. âHe was abusive, Mia. And you still keep putting me in situations where I have to see him. Do you even care how that feels for me?â
Her expression shifted, guilt flickering across her face before she crossed her arms defensively. âOf course, I care,â she said. âBut itâs not like Iâm dragging you into this on purpose. I mean, what am I supposed to do? Ghost Topper because you and Rafe had a shitty relationship?â
The words hit you like a slap, your anger twisting into something deeperâsomething closer to hurt. âIâm not asking you to break things off with him,â you said, your voice trembling. âIâm asking you to have some fucking empathy. Youâre supposed to be my friend, Mia.â
âI am your friend,â she shot back. âBut maybe you need to stop blaming me for everything. I didnât make you date him, and I didnât make you stay with him when things got bad. That was your choice.â
You flinched, the accusation cutting deeper than you expected. For a second, you thought about yelling, about telling her to leave and never come back. But instead, you turned away, your chest tight with something between anger and sadness.
âJust⌠go, Mia,â you said quietly. âI canât do this right now.â
She hesitated, her arms still crossed. âFine,â she said after a moment, her voice tight. âBut donât expect me to keep putting up with this shit forever.â
The door clicked shut behind her, leaving you alone in the silence of the room.
~~~~~
You were sitting on your bed, the faint glow of your desk lamp casting long shadows across the walls. The air felt heavy, the silence broken only by the sound of Rafe pacing in front of you.
âLet me see your phone,â he said, his voice low and clipped.
You froze, clutching the device tighter. âWhy?â
âBecause,â he snapped, facing you with a sharp glare. âI saw Bella texting you earlier. What did she say?â
âNothing important,â you said quickly, your stomach twisting.
He didnât believe you. âShow me.â
You hesitated, your fingers trembling as you unlocked your phone and handed it over. He snatched it from your grasp, scrolling through your messages with a storm brewing in his eyes.
His jaw clenched as he stopped on Bellaâs most recent text:
âr u ok? im rlly worried about u and rafe. u donât have to stay with him yk. u deserve sm better. <3â
âWorried about us?â Rafe said, his voice dripping with mockery. âWhatâs she so worried about, huh? Did you tell her we had a fight? Thatâs cute.â
âI didnât tell her anything,â you said quickly, your chest tightening. âSheâs just⌠sheâs just being a good friend.â
âSheâs not your friend,â he said sharply, tossing the phone onto the bed. âSheâs trying to break us up. You think Iâm stupid? You think I donât see whatâs going on?â
âSheâs not trying to break us up,â you insisted, your voice trembling. âSheâs justââ
âShut up,â he interrupted, his tone cold and final. âYouâre done talking to her. Do you hear me? Youâre going to block her, and youâre not going to say another word to her. Sheâs gone.â
âNo,â you said quietly, your voice barely audible. âYouâve already made me cut off everyone else. Bellaâs the only friend I have left.â
âYou still have me... you have Mia,â Rafe said, stepping closer, his shadow looming over you. âThat should be enough for you. You donât need anyone else.â
Tears welled in your eyes, but you didnât let them fall. âThis isnât protection, Rafe. This is fucking control-â
The words barely left your mouth before his hand slammed against the wall beside your head, making you flinch.
âWhat did you just say?â he demanded, his voice dangerously low.
You didnât answer.
~~~~~~~~
You woke with a gasp, your heart pounding as you sat up in bed. The room was dark, the faint glow of your phone the only source of light. For a moment, you couldnât breathe, the weight of the dream pressing down on your chest.
Even now, after everything, he still had a hold on you.
~~~~~~~~
It was late when you found yourself outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin. You hadnât meant to leave the dorm, but sitting in that room, surrounded by memories and silence, felt unbearable.
You ended up at the campus library steps, the faint glow of streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement. It was quiet and peaceful in a way that almost felt foreign.
âCouldnât sleep?â
You turned, startled, to see Cam leaning against the railing, a book in one hand and a thermos in the other. His smile was easy, and his presence grounding, making you feel like you could finally take a breath.
âSomething like that,â you admitted, sitting down beside him.
He didnât press or ask why your eyes were rimmed with exhaustion or why you were out so late. Instead, he offered you the thermos, the warmth of it seeping into your palms as you held it.
âI saw you at the beach,â he said after a moment, his tone careful.
You stiffened but didnât look at him. âYeah?â
âYeah.â He hesitated. âYou okay?â
You thought about lying, about brushing it off like you always did. But the words slipped out before you could stop them.
âNo.â
He nodded like heâd expected that, his gaze steady as he looked at you. âIf you ever want to talkâŚâ
âI donât,â you said quickly, cutting him off. Then, softer: âNot yet.â
âThatâs fine,â he said easily, leaning back against the steps. âIâm not going anywhere.â
You didnât respond, but for the first time in what felt like forever, the silence didnât feel so heavy.
ŕźśâ˘ââŕ¨âĄŕ§âââ˘ŕźś
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#dark!rafe cameron#dark!rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x reader#dark rafe cameron#rafe cameron fanfiction#obx fanfiction#outer banks fanfiction#rafe cameron#dark rafe x reader#obx imagine#outer banks fic#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron imagine#rafe fanfiction#rafe imagine#rafe x reader#dark!rafe x reader#dark!fic#outer banks#fanfic
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wow, this was one hell of a ride
â plot; my god, this was so good and wrapped up things beautifully. i love how they both fell in love with each other in different ways. like so different and maybe the timings were off but oh my god, they both love each other the same. the scene with drunk oc, oh my fucking god. i can't believe how beautifully you portrayed such intense emotions and events. your talent?? omfg. and oh pls, your smut is literally the best. and i also love that you had the courage to not only write this but share this. i respect that so much and esp that this fic was a healing piece for you. i hope you know that this has been as healing for me too. and ik u said these characters are not meant to be likeable but they're so realistic and raw that i just can't help but like them. and unless and until you've been there or witness someone close to you act like this, you won't understand just how painful and uncontrollable it is. i love this so much, and i will forever remember this story <3
â oc; fuck wonwoo, i want HER. oh god, she's so adorable and sweet? i literally love your descriptions of her, they were simply the best. and god, she's so naive as well, easily believing those around her, wearing her heart on her sleeve and not being afraid to feel things? that is braveness to me. such a beautiful portrayal of raw human emotions and flaws. that one para describing her made me melt. im afraid i wont find characters as realistic as this anywhere else. her being hopelessly in love with wonwoo from the very first fucking hits home too. the doubts, her still wanting to believe in him, being down bad for him. and i can see glimpses of you in her lol, i just love her characterization so much.
â wonwoo; the most deserved redemption. i was very doubtful on how he was gonna achieve her forgiveness, but he fucking proved himself. where do i find this man irl. and the para describing him realising his feelings? oh fuck. it was so beautiful. and im glad that he was the one for her. his character is beautifully portrayed too. when he confessed his feelings?? and the way he was trying to make it up even though he was still cocky lmao. and him and his nerdy glasses and zero social skills in the new school, lol. the fact he put down his walls for her and allowed her to see him for his true self đŁ god, his possessiveness too? that makes him so fucking real. it's so hot in fiction, but irl, i'd rather die lmao. but oh yes, wonwoo fucking won me over in this one and really got his green card.
â seokmin; oh my god. ok so, controversial opinion maybe, but i feel sorry for him. well yes, he did try to manipulate her. which is very very bad, butđ§ââď¸i understand where his feelings root from. i dont support the way he let his emotions control him but i dont find fault with the feelings themselves. and i wish nothing but the best for him. him saying that he was in love with her the same way she was with wonwoo fucking hurt. and the fact they've been friends for longer, i wanna cry. sometimes, ppl just do stupid, bad things but that doesn't mean they're bad. and i cannot and will not hate him.
â the friends; i rly rly love that we explored more friendship dynamics in this part!! i absolutely loved all of them and their scenes lol. whether it was leigh andd jeonghan flirting or them all agreeing wonwoo is an asshole. and they're realistic as well!! them not believing her when she said he has changed and giving her a side-eye, i got irl flashbacks lmao. they're so lovely.
â annotations;
This past week was filled with more joy than youâve had in a long time.Â
ngl, that must feel so relievingÂ
âOh please, Kalia. You act like I didnât see you and Mingyu practically eating each other's faces off in the library yesterday, â June huffs, shooting daggers at the both of them while peeling away the pistachio shells for her drunken boyfriend.Â
I love the friend group
It seemed so simple for your friends to find someone who truly loved them, and wasnât afraid to show it.Â
ouch
Reminders of all your missed opportunities left a bitter taste in your mouth, the alcohol on your tongue sweet in comparison.
tsk tsk, that must fucking hurt
âI thought you were dating Wownoo?â Lynne asks, and you couldnât help but laugh at your pitiful situation.Â
uhâŚâŚ no. fuck all of them think thatÂ
There was guilt gnawing at your insides. You didnât want this to be one of those talks where you delve into the intricacies of your peculiar friendship with Wonwoo.Â
aww, poor girl. i feel so bad for her
There's a moment of silence amongst the rest of your friends at the table, before they all burst out laughing before repeating Leighâs words. âWonwooâs an asshole!â They all say wholeheartedly in unison.Â
Lmfao asdrfsgzkfts
The reassurance that your friends had given you shouldâve been worth the pain of cutting Wonwoo off.
Friends like this >>>
 No matter how distracted you attempt to make yourself, he still floods your every waking thought.Â
sigh, i dont blame her
âWell, thereâs only one thing we can do,â he shakes his head, reaching for the remote on the coffee table. Weâre going to binge-watch this thing until you're caught up.âÂ
heâs adorable but i have no fucking clue what his intentions are
âYou left your phone on the counter, by the way,â He mentions before placing it on the coffee table.Â
âŚ. nvm
Not used to the proximity between you and him, you're thankful the increased volume drowned out the pitter-patter of your heartbeat.Â
deja vu is hitting hard
âYeah, I know, but thereâs a bunch of attractive villains, like Killmonger from Black Panther,â you shrug, but Seokmin looks at you like you had just insulted his entire bloodline with your statement.Â
⌠i see a resemblance irl, honey.Â
Heat radiated off your face, and your timid expression wouldâve been visible if Seokminâs back wasnât facing you. You hadnât realized how well Seokmin knew you.
i am very uncomfy rn
Had you known that ignoring him would lead to an outburst of unrelenting anger, you wouldnât have done so in the first place. Even when this cologne hangs in the still air of your apartment, you yearn for his presence. Even when you unleashed your fury at him, kicking him out with no remorse, you still yearn for his touch.Â
im .. this is so .. wow .. no words ..Â
Horrified by the sight of your phone screen, you donât remember blocking him in the first place. Wracking your brain, youâre trying to think of all the instances where you had been drunk or high enough to even do so, but nothing comes to mind. If you didnât block him, then who did?Â
gurl, asdfghjkl SEOKMIN DIDÂ
Wonwooâs text brings a swell of comfort within you. As much as you hate what he did, you could never bring yourself to hate him.Â
true, so true
Thereâs deliberate fervour behind your actions, causing Seokmin to groan in surprise. Rough palms gripping your waist, he matches your energy.Â
this was lowkey so hot
Practically jumping out of his lap, you unlock your phone as if you werenât just making out with Seokmin, to discover yet another text from Wonwoo.Â
smh, girl at least be subtle abt it
Only a fool would be swooning over his visible cry out for attention, and a fool you were. Wonwooâs claws have sunk so deep into you, that you canât even kiss someone without him interrupting. It's like he knew what you were doing without even seeing you.Â
asdfghjkl, sheâs down badÂ
The burn at the back of your throat intensified as awareness sunk into your whole being. Seokmin was under the guise of a doting friend while you were in your feelings for Wonwoo. Pretending to be your knight in shining armour while you were in a vulnerable state. How could you be so naive?Â
ouch, that fucking hurts though i saw it coming miles away
âI hope so, considering you had gone on my phone behind my back and blocked his contact.âÂ
FUCKING POP OFFFFF, OOHHH sheâs fiesty omgggg
âI may be in love with you just as much as you are with Wonwoo, but at least Iâm not dumb enough to go back to someone who obviously doesnât give a shit about me. Your life will get easier when you stop being an idiot and start seeing how bad he is for you.âÂ
oh fuck, nvm. I feel bad for him wtf omg. I cannot with this rollercoaster of emotions. Honestly, good for seokmin.Â
Everything would be so simple if it were Seokmin instead, and you acknowledge that. But your heart didnât seek out his touch the way it did with Wonwoo.Â
sigh, this is so complicated but so realistic. a punch in the gut
Seokmin let his feelings get in the way of what couldâve been the start of something good. If only he hadnât done what he did, maybe if he had just given you more time to heal, things between the two of you would be different. Although the friendship with Seokmin had turned sour, he still deserves someone who would love him unconditionally, it just wasnât you.Â
so so true. god damn, these characters are so humane and realistic, i gotta give it to you. and truly wish the best for seokmin
You also cannot deny how much you still miss him.Â
i miss him too (a man i have never met in my life đ)
[darling <3: you were right about seokmin]
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HE SAVED HER DARLING ON HIS PHONE RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
[darling <3: đ]Â
Lmfaoooo, im sorry but this is so funny to me
Leigh giggles at how Jeonghan takes every opportunity to flirt with him but agrees to his wager anyway. âWhat does a kiss have to do with any of this?â âNothing, I just wanted to give you one,â Jeonghan shrugs.Â
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHâok iâll stop now, theyâre so cute
âMaybe if you hadnât been such a manipulative bitch, she wouldnât have come back running to me,â Wonwoo smirks, the realization in Seokminâs eyes is nothing but confirmation that he struck a nerve.Â
you idiot, omfg i did not like his sentence phrashing
No one deserves to have you as much as he did.Â
oh rly? well you have A LOT to prove abt that
The feathery breath you let out almost causes Wonwoo to forget what heâs meant to be doing. Enamoured by your soft pink lips and how the heat on your cheeks intensifies with each passing moment. He simply canât take his eyes off you.Â
im just a man đ§ââď¸
With his experience, it doesnât take much for you to be perched right back into his palm. Youâre a woman after all.
istfg, wonwoo, his self confidence is through the roof. I wish i had 1/10th of it lol
He chuckles at your meek countenance, youâve always been the type to procrastinate.Â
i am, at the moment, procrastinating :))
Allowing himself to take a glance at you before interlocking his fingers with yours, rubbing soothing circles along your delicate skin.
GRRRR RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH sigh, i love them
Shoulders stiffening at the sight, Wonwoo really canât stay. He might even combust into a million pieces before he can get to his car.Â
you horn dog đŤľ
 As you turn around, Wonwoo almost lets out a strained groan. He had been lucky enough to cover it up with a cough.Â
lmfaooo
A rough palm is placed delicately against the exposed skin of your waist. Youâre so warm. Wonwooâs brain short circuits and he almost forgets what heâs actually meant to do.Â
im actually going feral atp
Sensitive to the sad things in life yet ardent towards the things you are passionate about. You have always been a softer soul, a soul that feels everything without a care in the world. At the same time, you are a whirlwind of emotions, and different colours of sensibilities, itâs your greatest strength but also your weakness. Wonwoo admires that about you. Never afraid to feel, never afraid to wear your heart on your sleeve. Everything he isn't.Â
ok brb im gonna cryâsheâs so sweet and so naive omggg. i love her so much
Falling in love with you was gradual.Â
im gonna start bawling, omfgggggg ahhhhh
In the same way, the tides along the shore would slowly pull the sand back into the ocean. In the same way, the seasons changed from summer to winter. Wonwooâs love for you is like autumn leaves. Shades of green morph into the familiar, comforting, yellow, red, and brown. Their descent from their branches slowed, dwindling with the breeze before they ultimately hit the ground. Before he knew it, autumn had begun. Before he knew it, he was in love.Â
this is so beautiful, the differences between how they fell for each other ahhh đ¤
Wonwoo ached to see you again. To be close to you, with your scent filling his nostrils, your warmth engulfing him, he couldnât stop thinking about you.
wow, someoneâs in love
âLike? I donât just like her. Iâm in love with her.âÂ
there it is
âOkay, youâve convinced me, but you better not fuck it up. I wonât punch you but I know Kalia would,â Mingyu shrugs, and heâs right. Kalia would beat him up.Â
i love the friend grp
âSeems like everyone does. Seokmin cares a little too much,â Wonwoo huffs, thinking back to what you had told him the last time he saw you.Â
lmao, i think heâs in love with seokmin than her lmao. he keeps mentioning him even in his thoughts loll
âIâm so screwed. I canât seem to properly memorize the theories, especially the one about Piagetâs stages. It keeps getting mixed up in my head,â you mutter in between bites.Â
damn sheâs a psych major
Despite the reconciliation between you and Wonwoo, you still find yourself doubting his actions. Did he want to change for the sake of your friendship? Or was he only putting effort knowing you had almost slipped through his fingertips?Â
i was thinking the sameÂ
Pulling out your phone from her purse, and bringing the screen to your face. You widen your eyes, moving your head closer to the camera. A lopsided smile sneaks its way onto your lips as it unlocks.Â
move over, wonwoo, my turn. WHY IS SHE SO FRICKING ADORBALE IME ATIGN MY FISTI5JRG
âExcuse me! Iâm waiting for my Wonwoo to come and pick me up,â you squeak, slapping the chest of whoever is trying to take you away from your friends.Â
fuck wonwoo, i want HER
âYour Wonwoo?â A familiar voice has you stopping in your tracks.Â
RAHHHHHHHHHHH đŚ
âMy Wonwoo.âÂ
fuck, this is way too cute ahhhhhh
How weird is it that a Wonwoo look-alike exists? Â
dies this is way too cute for me
Slapping his hand away, youâre offended at how endeared he is with you. The only thing on your mind was the softness of your comforter and the warm mint tea that you knew you were going to have later.Â
where do i find this girl irl, i dont even want wonwoo
âYou know, I get really scared driving at night. I think I need you to hold my hand.âÂ
move over, wonwoo. this is my turn!!
Fake Wonwoo has nice hands.Â
asdfghjklÂ
Would this be what it would be like if Wonwoo were finally yours?Â
𼺠im crying
âReal or fake, whatever you are or whatever this moment is. Iâm still in love with you. I hate that I canât tell you this without feeling scared or ashamed. Iâve loved you since the moment you came into class with your big nerdy glasses. Iâve loved you since you came back for a senior year when you had everyoneâs attention on you. And Iâve loved you even when you were in love with someone else.â âIâve loved you during everything weâve been through together. Even when I chose to ignore you, I woke up every morning with you still on my mind. It was hard, and I donât know why I couldnât let go of my feelings for you but a part of me was always hoping that one day you would feel the same way.â Â
im fucking bawlingÂ
âWhat Iâm trying to say is that Iâm in love with you. Iâm sorry it took so long for me to realize that it was you all along. I donât know why I never admitted it to myself, but youâve been in front of me this whole time.âÂ
my eyes r swollen. he fucking said it, HE SAID IT
âJust promise me youâll love me tomorrow too,â he chokes out.Â
âIâll love you even if there is no tomorrow.âÂ
Oh my fucking god đĽşđĽşđĽşđĽşÂ
His black hair was long and covered his forehead, glasses were thick and large-framed. Wonwoo was a breath of fresh air from the other boys at your school. Unlike the rest of them, he was more reserved and didnât talk much. His silence intrigued you.Â
fetus wonwoo đĽş
[wons: ok]Â
His reaction to the nickname lmfaoo
But you felt daring in that moment, allowing yourself to rest your head against his shoulder. Wonwoo stiffened slightly at your proximity but didnât budge.
đ§i need a nerd bf rn
âYeah. At least then we have more to talk about,â he specified.
ahhhhhhhhhhh
Instead, Wonwoo wrapped his arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him.Â
im so done, I NEED A NERD BF RN
Wonwoo took over every crevice of your mind, his scent, his touch, even if it was a mere hand on your shoulders, you didnât want to go a day without him.Â
and thatâs how you know sheâs beyond being saved.
You almost scoff at how cheesy you sounded in your dream. What kind of fool speaks this articulate after countless shots of tequila?Â
mam, that did happen and yes, YOU spoke like that after downing tequila
Except for the dildo that June gifted you for your birthday last year.Â
lmfao??? i got reminded of that scene in everything everywhere all at once
Opening up your drawer you carefully take out the pink sparkly dildo that was still left in its packaging, gripping it tightly as you burst through the door.Â
ASSESVRTJNOE4UGJSWLE3MN IM DDYING LMAOO
Only for your sight to befall an extremely muscular and shirtless Wonwoo.Â
stopping my manic laughter to appreciate his muscles. aight back to the shenanigans
âOw! What the fuck?â Wonwoo grunts, turning around to see your smaller frame gripping a bright pink dildo.Â
GRRRRRR LMAOOOOOOOOO
âI love you too,â the words spill out of your mouth effortlessly, like you were meant to tell him all along.Â
your honor, my client is down bad
Grinning down at you, Wonwoo places a gentle kiss on your lips. His large hands cupping your face as he does so.Â
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THEY KISSED, GENTLE KISS OH MY GODÂ
All while youâre sitting there eating strips of bacon and a couple of eggs.
ASDFGHJKL, IM SOBBING I LOVE DOMESTICITY SO MUCH. *inserts that gif of ebichu crying*
âI just want to be yours, Wonwoo.â you sigh, placing your plate on the coffee table.Â
AHHHHH, holy shit, sheâs 6 feet underground
Lazy Sunday Morning. Your favourite.Â
All i can think of is my mans joshua, im sorry anna
âBe my girlfriend. Be mine, please,â Wonwoo speaks in hushed tones, his lips searing against the shell of your ear.Â
YES YES YES, this is so hot
While his hand massages into the fat, you kiss up his neck while rubbing yourself against his clothed cock. His voice becomes strained, attempting to cover up the sounds of pleasure heâs emitting with a cough.Â
ANNA, HOW DARE U SAY U CANT WRITE SMUT IDFDSHDDDJHCNBÂ
The only thing he was looking forward to was the look on Seokminâs face once he saw that you were finally his.Â
just admit that ur in love with him
The absence of your touch irked him, but he let you go, not wanting to startle the rest of the group with his growing possessiveness.Â
i shudnât like this âŚ. why do i like this ⌠but possessiveness in real life đŹ
A hand is placed on his shoulder and he flinches away, he doesnât want anyone but you touching him. It almost makes him want to throw up.Â
i love reserved men so much
âThatâs never stopped me,â her voice lowers an octave in an attempt to sound seductive but Wonwoo feels nothing but repulsed by her very being.Â
i hate ppl like this
he knew he was in control either way.Â
đÂ
His. His darling. Â
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUCK I LOVE THIS
down your neck with the goal of leaving marks against your delicate skin.Â
i was so sleepy when reading this, i read it global warming against your delicate skin đ im so sorry lmao
Excitement courses through his veins, imagining all the fun heâs about to have with you.Â
fucking hell, heâs so hot
He doesnât stop until heâs at the apex of your sex, glasses fogged while the bridge of his nose is rubbing against your skin.Â
fuck, his glasses???
đ§omfg, wonwoo domming made me feel âŚ. đĽ´
âGonna breed this little cunt till you're stuffed full,â he groans, finally inserting his dick inside your heat.Â
At that moment, Wonwoo concludes that he doesnât want anyone but you. For as long as he can, he wants to be the only one to fuck you, to give you orgasm after orgasm. Until you're spent and in and out of consciousness, he wants to be the only one who can make you feel this way.Â
âAnswer it,â he speaks firmly.Â
âBet you liked that huh? You like it when I show everyone that youâre mine?â Wonwoo emphasizes while he continues to push past your entrance.Â
Wonwooâs muscular bicep wraps around your neck, placing you into a headlock.Â
âThis pussy is fucking mine,â he growls, emphasizing his words with each thrust.Â
âSays the one who has a massive dildo in their drawer,âÂ
lmao i love him
Not even the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore while he visited his hometown could outweigh the feeling of tranquillity that he got when he was with you.
đĽşđĽşđĽş this is soâim biting my fist.Â
Everything had fallen into place, and for the first time since he was seventeen, he realized that the one person he was searching for was in front of him this whole time.Â
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
đĽşđĽş this is the most perfect way to end it fuck. omgÂ
[wonwoo has changed your nickname to âdarling <3â]Â
i feel so warm and fuzzy, im tearing up, omfg
In Front of Me (2)
cause i was blind to see that you were right in front of me âË
âš pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader âš genre: bestfriends to (?), angst, smut (R: 18+ mdni) âš wordcount: 40.6k (part 1: here) (part 2)
âš summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time.
âš tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, unrequited love (for the most part), pining, toxic!wonwoo, toxic!reader, both in wonwoo and readers pov, questionable protagonists, mentions of other svt members, happy ending (?), emotionally constipated characters (wonwoo), flashbacks, slight seokmin x reader, a lot of emotions thrown everywhere. (smut and content warnings under the cut)
⚠note: here is pt.2 i hope you like how this ended :) thank you for reading ⥠please leave a reblog, comment, or ask with your thoughts, i appreciate u !
âš masterlist, fic playlist.
âš smut tags: dry humping, kissing, fingering, penetrative sex, corruption kink, degradation, dom!wonwoo, brat!reader, virgin!reader,oral (f. receiving), creampie, exhibitionsm (?), slightly perv!wonwoo undertones, petnames (reader: darling, baby) (wonwoo: baby), big dick wonwoo, riding, headlock (this is a warning actly). âš warnings: alcohol, reader is downbad for wonwoo, stalking, slut-shaming, evasions of privacy, if i missed anything lmk! cuz ik i did i just can't think of what hehe :p
act two, self control.
chapter one, before the fight.Â
The booth you sat in was far too cramped for your liking, yet there was a sense of relief that washed over you. Raval had been a go-to hang-out spot after all the tireless hours spent studying during the weekdays. The atmosphere was lively, your friendsâ laughter drowning out most of your thoughts.Â
Tonight also marked the first time in your life that you could fully enjoy a night out with your friends. Without Wonwooâs presence clouding your worries.Â
Despite his obvious plea for attention, you felt like you could finally breathe. The adjustment and decision to flat-out ignore him was difficult, but thanks to Seokmin it had become a little easier to bear over time. This past week was filled with more joy than youâve had in a long time. And Seokmin had been extremely doting towards you throughout it all.Â
âBabe, can you pass the pistachios please?â Jun pouts, his cheeks red from his third glass of beer.Â
âDid you need me to peel them for you, baby?â June coos, lips curling into a cutesy tone.Â
With a quizzical expression, Mingyu turns to Kalia, trying not to laugh at the other couple's foolishness. The two share a look before Kalia fake gags, causing Mingyu to burst out laughing. It had almost gone unnoticed until Mingyu broke out into a fit of giggles, June glaring at him with an unamused expression.Â
Watching the whole scene unfold had you smiling to yourself, wondering if there would ever be a time when you got to have these cheesy moments with someone the way your friends did.Â
âOh please, Kalia. You act like I didnât see you and Mingyu practically eating each other's faces off in the library yesterday, â June huffs, shooting daggers at the both of them while peeling away the pistachio shells for her drunken boyfriend.Â
âHey! You said that no one would catch us.â Kalia slaps the back of Mingyuâs head, causing him to wince.Â
âFirst of all ouch, second of all, I didnât know that anyone would go that far back into the library!â Mingyu defends himself.
âActually, the two of us were trying to do the same thing, but we saw you and dipped,â Jun confesses in his drunken state, while he munches on the pistachios June had been feeding him.
âHa! Take that June, you're just as bad as us, if not worse,â Kalia gibes, sticking her tongue out at June.Â
âActually, all of you are equally as corny, end of discussion,â Leigh chirps, his eyes rolling as Lynne, his twin sister, cackles beside him. Both evidently fed up with the âwhoâs the cheesier coupleâ argument.Â
Amidst all the bickering, you take a sip of your drink, eyes glimmering with admiration. It seemed so simple for your friends to find someone who truly loved them, and wasnât afraid to show it.Â
Wonwoo had been at the forefront of your mind for so long that you had denied yourself anyone else. You had been so set on making Wonwoo your end goal when you couldâve found someone who wouldâve treated you better. Reminders of all your missed opportunities left a bitter taste in your mouth, the alcohol on your tongue sweet in comparison.
âSomething on your mind?â Lynne breaks you out of your thoughts.Â
With your glass pushed down onto the sticky bar table, you give her a crooked smile that feels less disingenuous than the previous smiles you have been producing these past few months.Â
âKinda wondering when Iâll have something like those goofballs over there,â you chuckle bitterly, head motioning to the two girls fake arguing while their boyfriends sat there cluelessly.Â
âI thought you were dating Wownoo?â Lynne asks, and you couldnât help but laugh at your pitiful situation.Â
His face flashes briefly within your mind, and youâd almost forgotten that you had chosen not to speak to him, for how long? You werenât sure. It could be days or months, or until youâve finally healed from your one-sided heartbreak.Â
âNo⌠no. He and I were just close friends,â your tone is melancholic. Lynneâs worry is transparent as she squeezes your shoulder.Â
Desolation filled your senses regardless of the bar patrons' exuberant chatter. Your group of friends were all in their own worlds while you were troubled and inattentive. There was guilt gnawing at your insides. You didnât want this to be one of those talks where you delve into the intricacies of your peculiar friendship with Wonwoo.Â
âAnd that's okay, too. I'm not sure what happened, but heâs an idiot if he canât see what's right in front of him,â she affirmed as you sat there, relieved that she didnât press the situation further.Â
âTell me about it, it feels like everyone's been saying the same thing,â you mutter.Â
Overhearing your conversation, Lynneâs twin brother couldnât help but jump in, âWonwooâs a dumbass.âÂ
Lynne gives him a pointed look, but canât help but laugh at her brother's antics. Feathery giggles leave your throat too, finding Leighâs unexpected declaration amusing.Â
âSorry, I had to put my two cents in, he kinda sucks! As a friend heâs okay I guess, but as a boyfriend, girl, youâre better off without him,â Leigh puts his hands up in defence, but there was truth behind his statement.Â
âTrue, Iâve seen what heâs done to some of the girls on campus, totalâ,â Lynne begins, only for her sentence to be cut off.Â
âRed flag,â Leigh finishes Lynneâs proclamation.Â
Twin telepathy, you assumed.
âHey, Iâll cheers to that,â you shook your head with a chuckle, taking three shot glasses before topping them up with a bottle of tequila Mingyu had bought for the table.Â
âWhat! You guys are taking shots without us?â Jun whined before filling his glass with liquor.Â
The whole table's attention is on the three of you now, joining in on the rounds of shots going around. The clangour of glassware chimes throughout the carved-out space of the bar you and your friends had claimed for the night.Â
âWonwooâs an asshole!â Leigh blurted out loud before throwing back the alcohol in his cup.Â
There's a moment of silence amongst the rest of your friends at the table, before they all burst out laughing before repeating Leighâs words.Â
âWonwooâs an asshole!â They all say wholeheartedly in unison.Â
The gleam in everyoneâs eyes caused warmth to swell all over your body. Nothing could compare to moments like these, and you desperately hoped that the night wouldnât end. The reassurance that your friends had given you shouldâve been worth the pain of cutting Wonwoo off. Praying that their effort to cheer you up wouldnât be wasted on foolish decisions you desperately wanted to make; the yearning for Wonwoo has only skyrocketed and it frightens you to the core.
 No matter how distracted you attempt to make yourself, he still floods your every waking thought.Â
two.Â
 Since your decision to ignore Wonwoo, Seokmin has been coming over to your place a lot more often. You canât recollect when it started to happen, but you're not opposed to his company. Itâs quite the opposite actually; if anything heâs made your days a lot brighter, keeping you distracted from your urge to text Wonwoo.Â
The time you spent with Seokmin mostly consisted of him trying to get you to finish the whole Harry Potter series with him. When you told him youâve never seen the movies before, he had a comical look of shock painted over his face. Hands slapped against his cheeks, eyes wide they almost popped out of the sockets, type of comical.Â
âNot even the first movie?! Not even on Halloween during elementary school?â Seokmin gasps, hands on your shoulders, trying to gauge what you did and didnât know about the infamous films.Â
âYes! Not even when I was a kid, is it bad that I havenât watched it?âÂ
âIt's not just bad, this is almost criminal,â Seokmin sighs, feigning distraught.Â
You chortle at his remark, baffled by how seriously passionate he is about Harry Potter, which ended almost ten years ago, you might add.Â
âWell, thereâs only one thing we can do,â he shakes his head, reaching for the remote on the coffee table. Weâre going to binge-watch this thing until you're caught up.âÂ
âWhat? Isnât that a bit much? There are like a bajillion movies,â you exasperate.Â
Not wanting to hear another complaint from you, Seokmin shushes you dramatically. His pointer finger was in front of your lips before you could get another word in.Â
âI'll get the snacks. You sit here and get comfy because youâre in for a ride,â Seokmin asserts before standing to grab food and drinks from your kitchen.Â
An audible sigh leaves your lips, arms crossed as you pull the blanket over yourself to âget comfyâ just as Seokmin wanted.Â
A few minutes passed before Seokmin returned to the living room, a bowl of microwave popcorn perched on his side and two cans of soda cradled in his other arm.Â
âYou left your phone on the counter, by the way,â He mentions before placing it on the coffee table.Â
âOh! Thanks, I didnât even realize,â you smile, shifting to make room for him on the couch.Â
âYou ready for the greatest movie experience ever?â Seokmin beamed, plopping back into his seat beside you.Â
âSure, but we can only watch the first two,â you bargained with him, knowing that if he had it his way, you two would be up till sunrise.Â
Seokmin rolled his eyes jokingly, pretending to be annoyed with your lack of enthusiasm. Despite his antics, he agrees with your compromise. The movie begins to play and you let yourself relax in his presence. A bowl of popcorn is shared between you two while he wraps his hand over your shoulder. Not used to the proximity between you and him, you're thankful the increased volume drowned out the pitter-patter of your heartbeat.Â
âŚ
âWell that was a lot better than I expected,â you admit.Â
Although you were uncertain about watching the movies at first, you had acknowledged the hype around the Harry Potter franchise. Seokmin had caught all your facial expressions while watching, peering over to catch your reactions during all the major plot points. You had been so obviously absorbed in it that you didnât realize he had been staring.
âI told you! It just gets better from here. The Goblet of Fire is my favourite, youâll love it,â Seokmin marvels, wanting to indulge in his interests with you.Â
âTom Riddle is kinda cute, I wonât lie.âÂ
âBut heâs evilâŚand you know he gets ugly anyways. Heâs literally Voldemort!â Seokmin disputed with a stare of mild disgust.Â
âYeah, I know, but thereâs a bunch of attractive villains, like Killmonger from Black Panther,â you shrug, but Seokmin looks at you like you had just insulted his entire bloodline with your statement.Â
Giggling, you didnât expect him to take your opinions so seriously.Â
âFine. I won't say anything else. You go take your shower, and Iâll clean up,â he ushers you toward your room while holding the empty bowl in his hands.Â
âHow did you know that I was gonna take a shower?â you ask with curiosity.Â
âIâve known you for so long, you always take a shower before bed,â Seokmin explained nonchalantly. Â
Heat radiated off your face, and your timid expression wouldâve been visible if Seokminâs back wasnât facing you. You hadnât realized how well Seokmin knew you.
âThanks for cleaning up, I wonât be long,â you give him a smile of gratitude before heading over to your bathroom.Â
The more time you spend with Seokmin, the more you regret falling for Wonwoo. Seokmin is kind and doting, and he never causes you to feel any worry. He is the prime example of home, reminiscent of a warm fire while snuggled up on the couch with a pile of blankets.
 Seokmin feels safe. The safe choice, the smart choice.Â
Unfortunately, you were too foolish to have known sooner. Your irrevocable love for Wonwoo overshadowed all the possibilities of being with Seokmin.Â
A knock on your front door brings you out of your spiralling thoughts. But before you head over to open the door, Seokmin beats you to it.Â
âMinnie? Is someone at the door?â you call out from your bathroom, not bothering to leave.Â
âYeah! Your neighbour just needed to borrow something,â Seokmin half yelled from where he stood.Â
There was a moment of doubt in your mind, why would your neighbour want to borrow something so late into the night? Instead of investigating further, you leave it to Seokmin to help them, too tired to talk to anyone else for the rest of the evening.Â
âOkay!â is all you say.Â
You turn on the shower, allowing the steam to congregate and relax your senses. As you step in, you grant the warm water the ability to wash away your conflicting thoughts about both Seokmin and Wonwoo.Â
after the fight.Â
âItâs time for you to go. Iâm tired, Wonwoo.â
The bile in your throat stings, the corner of your eyes wet with tears. You didnât expect Wonwoo to burst in here accusing you of things you wouldnât dare do. Thereâs a familiar hollow feeling in your chest as you recollect how much of your heart you laid bare for him to witness.Â
Had you known that ignoring him would lead to an outburst of unrelenting anger, you wouldnât have done so in the first place. Even when this cologne hangs in the still air of your apartment, you yearn for his presence. Even when you unleashed your fury at him, kicking him out with no remorse, you still yearn for his touch.Â
There hadnât been many fights between the two of you, only enough to count on one hand. It would be petty arguments over stupid things. Arguments that would lead to one of you apologizing before the day was over. This fight seems different. It canât be resolved with a quick âIâm sorryâ.Â
Defeated and tired, you move to your bed. Your phone sits atop the dresser. Curious and wishing for Wonwoo to just return and apologize, you click his contact. You almost feel like you are in some fever dream, the words âyouâve blocked this numberâ staring back at you in flashing red.Â
Horrified by the sight of your phone screen, you donât remember blocking him in the first place. Wracking your brain, youâre trying to think of all the instances where you had been drunk or high enough to even do so, but nothing comes to mind. If you didnât block him, then who did?Â
You unblock his contact as quickly as possible, not wanting to create even more distance between you, although it might be too late to rectify the situation. A few messages were sent shortly after the fight had gone down.Â
[2:55 a.m.]Â [wons <3: idk if youâll receive this but iâm sorry darling. i mean it.] [wons <3: i didnât mean what i said earlier. i was just so angry. when ure ready to talk, lmk.]
Wonwooâs text brings a swell of comfort within you. As much as you hate what he did, you could never bring yourself to hate him.Â
three.
âYou know, Iâm kinda glad youâre here,â you professed.Â
The harrowed walls of your home became a lot more bearable now that you had someone other than yourself inside them. The entire place felt far too big for you, especially because you tend to sit alone with your thoughts too often.Â
Seokmin coming over to hang out was not part of your initial plan. But his unannounced visit wasnât unwelcomed either. He was extremely talented in distracting you with his sporadic outbursts of energy and laughter. Seokmin made you feel quaint, almost as if he could be the âsomeoneâ after everything you had been through with Wonwoo.Â
With crescent-shaped eyes that appeared when his smile broadened, Seokmin wrapped his arm tautly against your shoulder.Â
âI honestly just came over to check on how you were doing, after everything that happened, but I donât mind staying for a while, Iâd do anything if you asked.âÂ
âAre you flirting with me, Lee Seokmin?âÂ
Seokmin threw his head back with a hearty contagious laugh. Before you knew it, you were laughing along with him.Â
The voice in the back of your head hissed symphonies of how easier your life wouldâve been if you had just fallen in love with Seokmin instead. No matter how many times you tried to unearth a flaw of his, nothing comes to mind. There were so many signs leading you toward him, and how perfect he would be for you. But your heart still belongs elsewhere, even after what has been said and done.Â
Seokminâs eyes dimmed, âWould it be so bad if I was?âÂ
Taken aback by his words, your mouth opens and closes, trying to figure out whether heâs joking or genuine about his statement.Â
âI-I guess not,â you mumble, watching the way his gaze shifts from your eyes down to your lips.Â
Holding your breath, you canât deny the tension that the two of you had created. Bodies practically meshed together on the couch, you werenât sure how you ended up in this position but if Seokmin was the answer to distracting you from the fight with Wonwoo, who were you to deny him?Â
âI really want to kiss you,â Seokmin confesses.Â
âI wouldnât stop you if you did.âÂ
Seokmin didnât need much convincing after what you had professed. Swinging your legs over his lap, he grapples you into a position that has you straddling his thighs. The swiftness of his movements almost caused a yelp to leap out of your throat, but he steadied you before you could let out another noise.
With the faintest of touch, Seokmin places his lips over yours. Ever so cautious, ever so careful, he clearly wants to savour the moment. Despite his heedfulness, you were the exact opposite. You want it to be fast, you want him to be rough.Â
Thereâs deliberate fervour behind your actions, causing Seokmin to groan in surprise. Rough palms gripping your waist, he matches your energy. The world sinks into a deep void along with the cruel songstress who refused to let you neglect your feelings for Wonwoo.Â
Even though you have the desire to prolong your make-out with Seokmin, your phone buzzes against the plush cushions of your couch. Practically jumping out of his lap, you unlock your phone as if you werenât just making out with Seokmin, to discover yet another text from Wonwoo.Â
Every time his contact appears on your screen, your heart canât help but skip a beat. It angers you how easily enraptured you are by something so minuscule. Even after you had kicked him out of your house that night, you canât deny his diligence and how desperate he is for forgiveness.Â
You almost wanted to curse him out for his audacity, but the other half wanted to give in and let him explain. Eyes glued to his messages, you find yourself reading them over and over again, your heart swollen with an aching desire to talk to him again.Â
[11:09 p.m.]Â [wons <3: hi. ik ur still mad but let me make it up to you. please?]Â [wons <3: i donât know what i have to do to make u forgive me but just know i donât want us to end on this note.]Â [wons <3: please darling, u mean so much to me, i donât wanna lose u.]Â [wons <3: i canât stand this. please, just give me a chance to make things right]Â
Only a fool would be swooning over his visible cry out for attention, and a fool you were. Wonwooâs claws have sunk so deep into you, that you canât even kiss someone without him interrupting. It's like he knew what you were doing without even seeing you.Â
âI thought you blocked him?â the inflection of disappointment apparent in Seokminâs voice.Â
Plopping your phone back down on the sofa, your brain finally registers the words that Seokmin had just uttered. You know for a fact that it wasnât you who blocked his contact, but how the hell did Seokmin know?
 Unless he was the one to do soâŚÂ
A moment of realization struck you like a bolt of lightning, and the confusion finally cleared by the slip of Seokminâs tongue. Why would he block Wonwooâs contact on your phone?Â
Attempting to recall when and where this couldâve happened, you remember the day you left your phone on the kitchen counter during the Harry Potter movie marathon. The burn at the back of your throat intensified as awareness sunk into your whole being. Seokmin was under the guise of a doting friend while you were in your feelings for Wonwoo. Pretending to be your knight in shining armour while you were in a vulnerable state. How could you be so naive?Â
Wonwoo had been trying to tell you the truth, but you foolishly snubbed all his warnings out of anger.Â
Nauseous and betrayed, you didnât know that Seokmin would turn out to be the one to manipulate you, to sway your opinions to gain your time and affection. Youâre so shaken up from your revelation that you almost forget who exactly is sitting right in front of you.Â
âIâm really sorry Seokmin, but that kiss. I wasnât thinking straight,â you attempt to act calm, not wanting to escalate the situation.Â
âItâs okay, I understand. It's only been a week,â he shrugs with a rueful demeanour, âYouâre still in love with him and there's not a lot I can do to change your mind.âÂ
âYouâre right, there isnât,â you reply with certainty. âI've been in love with him for years, and thatâs not going to change for a while.âÂ
âI just want you to know Iâll be here when youâre ready.â
âI canât do that to you knowing I still love him,â you disclose and hurt flashes across Seokminâs eyes.Â
âI understand.âÂ
âI hope so, considering you had gone on my phone behind my back and blocked his contact.âÂ
Shock is the best way to describe Seokminâs reaction. He probably hadnât realized that you figured out where his true intentions lie. But now that itâs out in the open, you canât help but stand your ground.Â
Seokmin doesnât deserve to be in your presence right now, especially after he took advantage of your vulnerability.Â
âI donât know what youâre talking about,â Seokmin tries to respond nonchalantly, but his eyes frantically avoid your gaze.Â
âYou know damn well what Iâm talking about,â you grit, your knuckles were straining from how hard you gripped onto your phone. Displacing your anger before it was shot full throttle and onto Seokminâs face.
âFine. You caught me. But there wasnât any other way for you to forget him if you kept in contact with him. Even if you werenât explicitly answering his texts.âÂ
Standing up and stalking over to your door, you open it to usher Seokmin out of the home.Â
âThatâs for me to decide. Not you. Now please leave.âÂ
Without much defiance, Seokmin leaves, evidently hurt by your anger towards him. The frown on his face deepened while he grabbed all his things, and walked out your door.
 As he leaves, he utters his last words, clearly miffed by your decision to kick him out.Â
âI may be in love with you just as much as you are with Wonwoo, but at least Iâm not dumb enough to go back to someone who obviously doesnât give a shit about me. Your life will get easier when you stop being an idiot and start seeing how bad he is for you.âÂ
âŚÂ
The unsavoury memories of earlier had you deep in thought, especially after the statement Seokmin had made. He was supposed to be your safe space, but he ruined it with his need to cut Wonwoo out of your life for you. Yet there was clear wisdom to what he had said. Wonwoo only complicated your life and feelings further. Â
Everything would be so simple if it were Seokmin instead, and you acknowledge that. But your heart didnât seek out his touch the way it did with Wonwoo.Â
 Seokmin let his feelings get in the way of what couldâve been the start of something good. If only he hadnât done what he did, maybe if he had just given you more time to heal, things between the two of you would be different. Although the friendship with Seokmin had turned sour, he still deserves someone who would love him unconditionally, it just wasnât you.Â
 Wonwoo was the person you truly wanted, and although the break and argument between you two were enlightening, you cannot deny how right he is about Seokmin.Â
You also cannot deny how much you still miss him.Â
Canât Get You.
chapter one.Â
âI gave up so much for you, Wonwoo. I lost so much of myself trying to please you. But I give up. I was drowning in my love for you.âÂ
You are an enigma inside Wonwooâs mind, and it was the first time in a while that he had experienced deep regret and grief. Forcing himself into your home to accuse you all because of his resentment towards Seokmin, he couldnât have been less irrational. And now he had to face the consequences of his actions. Â
Sleepless night after sleepless night, he had no way to make up for what he had done to you. Years of cluelessly assuming that you only ever saw him as a friend, of using you as a crutch for his anguish. He had been so unfair, and there's a sense of exasperation he cannot disenthrall.Â
Wonwoo is supposed to be your friend as much as you were his, but he dared to treat you as his therapist, his support system. If he hadnât been so blind to your feelings, none of this wouldâve happened. Maybe he wouldâve been able to reciprocate your feelings earlier if he had known that you were in love with him this whole time.Â
The buzz of a notification illuminates his dim bedroom, the light of his screen creating shadows that harboured his contrition. He had half the mind to answer, but after what he had said to you that day, he knew it wasnât going to be you.Â
Wonwoo decided to take a look anyway.Â
[12:09 a.m.]Â
[darling <3: you were right about seokmin]
[darling <3: that doesnât mean i forgive u. i just thot id let u know]
With his heartbeat hammering inside his chest, Wonwoo couldnât contain his elation. Itâs been so long since heâd seen your name on his phone screen, and despite the context not being ideal, he decided to look at the brighter side.Â
Although heâs not sure what had gone down between you and Seokmin, Wonwoo couldnât find it in himself to care. All he knows is that he was right to warn you, and he has a chance to have you all for himself once again. Without the worry of Seokmin interrupting his plans.
[12:10 a.m.]Â
[wons <3: iâve missed you, darling]Â
[wons <3: i know iâve been a bad friend in the past, but i want to show u that i can change. please]
[wons <3: i promise, i'm going to be better]
Desperation was never Wonwooâs thing, but if it meant having you in his arms once again, then nothing else matters. If heâs perceived as pathetic for trying to gain your trust again, then so be it.Â
Eyes glued to his phone screen, he observes how your grey chat bubble appears and disappears again. The anticipation of what youâre going to say next has Wonwoo on the edge of his bed, wishing he could just peer into your mind, to catch a mere glimpse into what youâre thinking.Â
[12:14 a.m.] [darling <3: đ]Â
Thereâs an immediate drop in Wonwooâs smile, heâs never experienced you acting indifferent towards him. The feeling is so foreign he has no choice but to find some way to get rid of it. You had given a sliver of hope just by texting him, and that was all he needed. Wonwoo is your best friend, he knows you better than anyone, he knows you better than Seokmin.Â
Apathetic towards the lengths he may have to go to to bring you back into his life, Wonwoo is determined to make you forgive him. Even if it meant abandoning his pride or his ego, he didnât care anymore. Everything else is meaningless if youâre not his.Â
two.Â
The next time Wonwoo is forced to be in a room with Seokmin is the day Jeonghan decides to have an impromptu study session in the library. Unbeknownst to him, the person he has grown to hate would be there too. The tension was increasingly palpable to the point that both Jeonghan and Leigh found it difficult to focus on their work.Â
âWhy are you here?â Wonwoo queried with a scrutinizing gaze.Â
The sound of uncomfortable shuffling is pronounced within the long pause of Seokmin and Wonwooâs staredown. And Jeonghan gives Leigh a look of curiosity with a hint of confusion. They were obviously under the impression that the two of them were good friends, especially because no one had a clue about what happened between them.Â
âJeonghan invited me to study, why? Is it illegal for me to be here?â Seokmin quipped, evidently unamused by Wonwooâs presence.Â
Wonwoo scoffs, chair legs scraping against the hardwood as he takes his seat.Â
âIt should be.âÂ
Seokmin huffs before crossing his arms over his chest, taking a guarded stance. Various textbooks cluttered around the table, long forgotten in favour of watching Seokmin and Wonwoo bicker.Â
âWhatâs up with those two?â Jeonghan whispers in Leighâs ear, which the latter only shrugs in response.Â
Wonwoo and Seokmin were lost in their world of conflict, and neither paid attention to their two observers. They were both ready to pull out bowls of popcorn amid their studying, which seemed more entertaining than whatever they were reading earlier.Â
âNot sure. I bet you ten dollars it has something to do with you know whoâŚ,â Leigh whispers back, obviously amused by his friends' clear disdain for each other.Â
âIâll bet you ten dollars and a kiss Wonwoo did something to piss off Seokmin,â Jeonghan challenges his deal.Â
Leigh giggles at how Jeonghan takes every opportunity to flirt with him but agrees to his wager anyway.Â
âWhat does a kiss have to do with any of this?âÂ
âNothing, I just wanted to give you one,â Jeonghan shrugs.Â
Their conversation is cut off by Seokminâs need to curse out Wonwoo, standing up from the table only to poke his finger into the elder's chest.Â
âI hope you know that if you pursue her, youâll only end up hurting her,â Seokmin accused, causing Wonwoo to flare with outrage.
Wonwoo isnât pleased by Seokminâs intrepid need to provoke him. From what you texted him the other day, itâs unmistakably clear that he has the upper hand. This means that Seokminâs vexation is only a projection of the fact that his plan has gone awry.Â
âMaybe if you hadnât been such a manipulative bitch, she wouldnât have come back running to me,â Wonwoo smirks, the realization in Seokminâs eyes is nothing but confirmation that he struck a nerve.Â
Seokmin is left baffled by Wonwooâs statement, âYou seriously cannot be talking right now.â
âOh, but I am. I may have done wrong before, but at least I know how to get her back,â Wonwoo retorted. Â
Thankfully, the library wasnât traditional in the sense that students had to be quiet while using the space. Most passersby' barely batted an eyelash as the two men were raised from their seats while in a heated argument.Â
The bitter taste in Wonwooâs mouth only intensified the more time he wasted quarrelling with Seokmin. There are better things he can do with his time, like finding a way for you to forgive him. But he canât help that every time he lays eyes on Seokmin, the only thing he can think of doing is socking his so-called friend in the face.Â
âWeâll see who she ends up with in the end, and Iâll make sure it isnât you,â Wonwoo finalizes.Â
Deciding that he is done exchanging words with Seokmin, he leaves before he wastes any more of his time. The bag hooked on his shoulder was still unopened since their fight started before he could even retrieve his things. Harsh footsteps echo throughout the bustling library, and Wonwoo makes it his mission to find you. To have you in his hold before Seokmin could even think of getting near you.Â
âŚ
Three oâclock. On Wednesdays, your anthropology lecture always ends at three oâclock. Wonwoo knew you wouldnât be pleased to see him inside the arts building, waiting right outside the lecture hall. But he had to take his chance, or else Seokmin might find a way to weasel into your life once again. Just the thought of it made Wonwooâs ears flare red. No one deserves to have you as much as he did.Â
The rush of students begins to trickle into the hallway, and he spots the top of your head before you stray too far away. With a shout of your name, he watches as you try to find the voice that has been calling out for you.Â
Suddenly, the world around Wonwoo lacks colour as his gaze sets upon you. Standing there, you shine brightly, and Wonwoo couldnât care less how stupid he looked while trying to gain your attention. The people around him are nothing but blockages that stop him from being able to grab onto you. Your expression is filled with curiosity as he waves his hand, beckoning you closer to him. Despite the obvious conflicting thoughts that are running through your head, Wonwoo knows you wonât be able to resist him.Â
As you near, Wonwoo almost sighs with content, hearing your voice for the first time since that night.Â
âWhat are you doing here?âÂ
The two of you wedged into one of the corners, waiting for the crowd to thin out. Grabbing your wrist, Wonwoo pulls you against him. Your back is flush with the wall; the rest of the students push past the both of you to get to their next class or to go home.Â
âWanted to be the one to give you a ride home,â Wonwoo mutters truthfully, but he knows thatâs not why youâre asking.Â
He watches the way you gulp, trying not to get caught up in the heat of his body. Youâre so close to him that if he makes one slight movement he could end up kissing you. The feathery breath you let out almost causes Wonwoo to forget what heâs meant to be doing. Enamoured by your soft pink lips and how the heat on your cheeks intensifies with each passing moment. He simply canât take his eyes off you.Â
It seems as though you're making Wonwoo fall for you without even realizing it.Â
The delightful scrunch in your brow only leaves him tingling, satisfied with the fact that you two are in such proximity after everything that happened. Although Wonwoo knows he has a long way to go to gain your forgiveness, he allows himself to enjoy the smaller moments with you while he can.Â
âI can walk,â you retort, recoiling out of his grasp before walking over to the exit.Â
âWalking is fine too,â Wonwoo attested, catching up with your fast pace.Â
âAlone,â you reiterate.Â
Wonwoo is amused by your direct attempt to get him to leave you alone. He almost laughs, you should know him well enough by now. What Wonwoo wants, he gets, it doesnât matter if youâre mad at him. Heâs confident enough in himself to know that heâs capable of making you fall for him all over again.Â
If thereâs one thing Wonwoo is unmistakably good at, itâs the chase.Â
With his experience, it doesnât take much for you to be perched right back into his palm. Youâre a woman after all. The only difference between you and everyone else is that Wonwoo can envision a future with you in it, which has always been hard for him to do. But with you, Wonwoo can only wish that he could live till heâs a thousand if it meant that he could spend the rest of that time with you.Â
âPlease darling, let me take you home,â Wonwoo begs, his slender fingers grasped against your wrist. âYouâre probably tired from walking around campus all day.âÂ
He could practically see the way the gears were turning in your head like you couldnât decipher his underlying motives, and he couldnât help but grin at your obvious overthinking.
âFine, but youâre giving me a ride. Thatâs it.âÂ
The smile on Wonwooâs face widens as you try to act uninterested, but he knows deep down your resolve is beginning to weaken. Â
three.Â
Wonwoo can only surmise that his plan has been taking effect. Not only have you been less reluctant to agree to him giving you a ride to and from school, but youâve also been replying to his texts more frequently. Albeit they havenât been the same long and sporadic messages you used to send, Wonwoo canât seem to complain.
[5:05 p.m.]Â [wons <3: u got home alright darling?] [darling <3: u drove me home.] [wons <3: ik. but i still wanna ask] [darling <3: i should be asking u that] [darling <3: not that i care tho] [wons <3: sure u dont]Â [darling <3: i don't! now bye i have to study for my quiz tmrw]Â [wons <3: okayy wtv helps u sleep at night đ]Â [wons <3: dont study too hard. ill pick u up tmrw at the same time ok?]Â [darling <3: đ]Â
Smiling like a kid on Christmas, Wonwoo canât help but feel the rush of butterflies flutter in his stomach. He can tell youâre trying to put on a detached facade, but your caring nature seems to be slipping through the cracks.Â
His plan to slowly reinstate himself into your life seems to be working. Even though he understands it wonât happen overnight, Wonwoo doesnât mind waiting for you to forgive him. At least he knows that heâs one step closer than Seokmin ever will be.Â
âŚ
âGood morning,â Wonwoo greets you, moving to the side to open the door.Â
As you slip into the passenger seat, he realizes how much he misses you sitting beside him. You were always in your world while he drove, staring at the window reading all the signs along the way, or humming softly to the lyrics of the current song playing.Â
âMorning,â you mumble back, settling into your spot.Â
Itâs that time of the year when all the leaves start to fall off the branches. The pavement was littered with hues of brown, red, and yellow. Wonwoo loved autumn the most out of all the seasons. It reminded him of the smell of cinnamon and warm cups of tea. Most importantly, it was autumn when he first met you.Â
âYou ready for your quiz?â Wonwoo decides to fill the silence.Â
As you turn your body, you give him a soft smile, and he knows with that expression, that you probably didnât get much studying done the night before. He chuckles at your meek countenance, youâve always been the type to procrastinate.Â
âI know that look. Donât worry, youâre the smartest person I know,â Wonwoo reassures you.Â
The right hand he had gripping the steering wheel strays from its place, seeking your hold. Allowing himself to take a glance at you before interlocking his fingers with yours, rubbing soothing circles along your delicate skin. Sensing you freeze upon his touch, Wonwooâs hands almost break out in a sweat, hoping you wonât pull away. And surprisingly, you don't.Â
Both of you returned to a relaxed state, and heâs overjoyed that youâve decided to allow him to touch you again. Even if itâs something as innocent as hand-holding on the way to school. Wonwoo squeezes your hand tighter, reminding himself that youâre still beside him. That you chose to be with him.Â
It wasnât long before the campus university was in Wonwooâs view. Pulling into his parking spot, he does so without letting go of your hand once. Even when turning the gear shift into park, his hold on you has yet to be relinquished.Â
Thereâs a pause of silence that Wonwoo decides to break.Â
âI know itâs not going to be easy to forgive me, Iâve done so many things that, if I was in your position, wouldnât have let slide. But Iâm asking for a chance, just one chance to show you that I can be better,â Wonwoo confesses.Â
He observes that way you take time to think, his thumb continuing to rub mindless circles into your skin. Wonwoo didnât think heâd be so nervous to hear what you had to say, or if you would say anything at all.Â
âJust be patient with me, okay?â is the only thing you end up saying.Â
To Wonwoo, thatâs a win. You didnât deny his request for forgiveness, and that can only mean one thing. His plan is working just as heâd hoped.Â
âTake all the time you need, darling. I just want to be close to you again,â Wonwoo reassures you, his voice stable and comforting. He searches your eyes for even an ounce of unease.Â
Nodding your head, you finally loosen your hand from Wonwooâs. As you step out of the car you leave with one final remark.Â
âI'll see you after class okay?âÂ
That was all the assurance that Wonwoo needed. Heâs convinced that heâs a step in the right direction. Youâve fallen for him once again, perhaps not fully, but soon enough youâll be back to where the two of you had left off.Â
âŚÂ
When Wonwoo gets to see you again, itâs to drop off your cognitive psych textbook. By the time he realized it was on the floor bed of his car, it was already too late to give it back to you.
As he returns to the same long hallway, he nears your apartment with a sense of unease. Flashbacks of what happened the last time he even stepped foot into the building flood his memories. Wonwoo had no reason to be nervous, especially because youâve become more lenient about him seeing you again. But this is different, he canât help but wonder if youâre over that night, or youâre just allowing him to enter your life again because it was easier.Â
The sound of him knocking on the door reverberates through the empty hallway, and a chill shoots down his spine. Why is he so nervous? Heâs been here more times than he could count, and above all that heâs only here to return your textbook.Â
From the other side of the door, he can faintly hear your footsteps as you make your way over. A hand clasped around the thick spine of your book, he grips it harder as he awaits your arrival.Â
âHi?â you greet him with a puzzled expression.Â
The breath in Wonwoo's throat evaporates into thin air, his eyes glued to the curve of your body. Itâs the same sleep set you wore the night he saw Seokmin leave your apartment. Trapped in his mind, he canât help but let his thoughts wander. Plush thighs hugged tightly by your shorts, no bra in sight, allowing your nipples to outline the satin. With a tense gulp, he knows he canât stay for long.Â
âH-hey, uh, you forgot your textbook in my car,â Wonwoo stutters, eyes raking over your figure.Â
What the hell? Wonwooâs seen you in everything under the sun, including a bathing suit. But why does this damn sleep set have him tripping over his words?Â
Before he can say anything more, you move forward to grab the book from his hands. Your hair flows over your shoulder while the strap of your tank top slips down.Â
Shoulders stiffening at the sight, Wonwoo really canât stay. He might even combust into a million pieces before he can get to his car.Â
âThanks.âÂ
âItâs really no problem, sorry Iâm here so late. Youâreââ his words are cut off by your unexpected proposition. Â
âYou wanna come in? Iâm making some tea.âÂ
Wonwoo is completely fucked, though he doesnât stop himself from entering your home.Â
As you turn around, Wonwoo almost lets out a strained groan. He had been lucky enough to cover it up with a cough. You shoot him a confused look over your shoulder, and he mumbles a curt âItâs nothingâ before you can question him further.Â
The scent of peppermint tea engulfs his senses, your favourite. It was your routine to drink a cup of tea before bed, but peppermint has always been your go-to. He only knew this because his mom always made sure to send you boxes of a loose-leaf version from your hometown. You didnât drink any other kind.Â
Thereâs a sway in your hips as you move over to the kitchen counter and Wonwooâs lost in a hypnotic state. Taking a seat at the island, he watches as you grab two of the coffee mugs from your cupboard. As you move to reach for the glassware, he observes the way your shorts ride up, giving him a direct view of the curve of your ass. He felt like a pervert for staring but no matter how hard he tried, he couldnât take his eyes off you.Â
âHere, let me get them for you,â Wonwoo offers, moving behind you to retrieve the two mugs. His body is perfectly aligned with yours, he can feel you stiffen against him.Â
A rough palm is placed delicately against the exposed skin of your waist. Youâre so warm. Wonwooâs brain short circuits and he almost forgets what heâs actually meant to do. He holds you tighter against him while the handles of the cups are hooked against his fingers. With as much delicateness as possible, he situates the mugs against the granite.Â
The soft âthank youâ that left your lips was almost too faint for either of you to hear, but due to the stillness in the atmosphere, Wonwoo heard you loud and clear.Â
With reluctance, Wonwoo leaves his spot behind you to return to his seat. He continues to watch you as you prepare the tea, and heâs never been more mesmerized in his life. It was almost criminal how closely he examined your actions, but you had become so captivating. It would be rude to deny the pleasure of being able to see you again.Â
âThis oneâs for you,â you mutter, setting the mug in front of his person.Â
âThanks.âÂ
A comfortable silence blankets the two of you. Your hand around your cup, savouring the tea while you scroll aimlessly on your phone. Wonwoo allows his thoughts to wander. It almost felt sinful to be inside your apartment once again, compelling him to apologize once more.Â
âI know I've already said it before but, I hope you know Iâm not going to let this second chance be taken for granted. What I did was wrong, and I was so angry and confused that I didnât even think about what I was saying.âÂ
Looking up from your phone, a frown is apparent on your angelic face. But you donât say anything, allowing him to continue with his admission of guilt.Â
âThere are so many things I couldâve done differently, but I let my anger get the best of me. Youâre the most important person in my life and I donât want to let you go. I know Iâm terrible at showing how much I care but I want you to know that deep down inside of me my love for you is there. Youâre my greatest friend and I was a dumbass for not treating you that way earlier on.âÂ
Thereâs a pregnant pause in the air before you respond. Wonwooâs nerves are spiking, but he waits diligently for your reply.Â
âI understand that youâre sorry. And I wish that things had gone differently. Iâm sure that night was a lot for both of us. Seokmin wasnât the person I thought he was, and it sucks that you were right but I wanna move forward. It just felt so wrong for you to assume that I was with him in that way. It hurt and it was insulting for you to talk to me that way.âÂ
The words that had been brewing in his mind were lost as he continued to listen to you.Â
âWhatâs even funnier is that me and Seokmin kissed a couple of days after our fight. Iâm not even sure why I did that, but I regret it. I probably just wanted to get my mind off you and all the other stuff. Honestly, I was so naive, I didnât think Seokmin would go to such cruel lengths to manipulate me.âÂ
âI want to forgive you. Youâre my best friend, and I donât want to lose you either. Seokmin had put it in my head to just cut you off, and it almost felt wrong but I listened anyway. I shouldâve known why he had convinced me to do all those things. I was so stupid to believe him. But I do want to fix us, I just need time.âÂ
To hear you talk about what Seokmin did to you, and to also find out that you two had kissed made Wonwooâs insides churn. He felt sick at the thought of the two of you, but why? Youâre his friend, he shouldnât care about the fact that you and Seokmin shared an intimate moment. Wonwoo should only care about the fact that both he and Seokmin hurt you.
âDarling, Iâm so sorry. I wish there were more ways I could show you how apologetic I am. I promise I'm going to do better.âÂ
Thereâs a glazed look over your eyes, and Wonwooâs chest almost collapses into itself. The subtle pout on your lips causes a sigh to leave his lips.Â
Standing up, he walks over to you, cooing as he deluges you into his hold. Strong arms pull you into his chest, the faint weeping coming from you almost kills him. He hates to see you sad, and what he hates even more is that heâs the one behind most of your pain.Â
âIâm not going anywhere from now on. So please darling, donât push me away anymore. Iâm gonna do everything I can to show you how important you are to me,â He whispers in your ear as he runs a hand down your hair.Â
Wonwoo knows how much you love it when he does that. It always calmed you down on the days you couldnât regulate your emotions.Â
Sensitive to the sad things in life yet ardent towards the things you are passionate about. You have always been a softer soul, a soul that feels everything without a care in the world. At the same time, you are a whirlwind of emotions, and different colours of sensibilities, itâs your greatest strength but also your weakness. Wonwoo admires that about you. Never afraid to feel, never afraid to wear your heart on your sleeve. Everything he isn't.Â
That night, Wonwoo vowed to be a better person for you. He also promised heâd never let someone like Seokmin take advantage of your kindness again.Â
four.Â
Despite Wonwooâs desire to submerge his feelings into a deep void, he canât seem to dismiss the fact that heâs slowly falling for you. It didnât start when you had begun to ignore him, nor did it start when you decided to search for comfort in another.Â
Seeking a piece of you in everyone heâs been with. It's always been in a subconscious manner, but the more he looks back on all his relationships, heâs started to realize that the one thing that was missing was you.
Falling in love with you was gradual.Â
In the same way, the tides along the shore would slowly pull the sand back into the ocean. In the same way, the seasons changed from summer to winter. Wonwooâs love for you is like autumn leaves. Shades of green morph into the familiar, comforting, yellow, red, and brown. Their descent from their branches slowed, dwindling with the breeze before they ultimately hit the ground. Before he knew it, autumn had begun.Â
Before he knew it, he was in love.Â
Everything over the past month had just been a wake-up call. Slowly rising from an insomnious state, he began to find clarity in his past actions, in his reasons for wondering why none of the relationships worked out in his favour. No one understood him the way you did, and no one understood you the way he did. And he had been foolish enough to not act upon those realizations sooner. Â
âŚÂ
Wonwoo ached to see you again. To be close to you, with your scent filling his nostrils, your warmth engulfing him, he couldnât stop thinking about you. Yet he sat in the library trying to make sense of his pending assignment. Mingyu sits across from him, looking close to slamming his forehead with his textbook.Â
Wonwoo couldnât care less about regression to the mean or whatever it is his statistics professor is trying to teach him. Every second that passed his mind would end up wandering to thoughts of you. That night in your apartment, the whiff of peppermint tea, your arms around him as he held you close. Desperation is a dangerous emotion, for it only made him want to close his laptop and rush to your side.Â
Why didnât he just fess up about his feelings for you right then and there? He couldâve done it, but his intuition stopped him. From the start of you finally letting him back into your life, neither of you brought up your confession of being in love with him. The prospect of him even acknowledging the subject has Wonwoo believing it wouldnât end the way he hopes.Â
Attempting to suppress his curious thoughts, heâs afraid of you denying everything you disclosed to him that night. He didnât want you to renounce your declaration of love under the guise of anger or the heat of the moment. The only thing he wanted from you now was the truth.Â
âWell, you look a lot better than you did last time we were here,â Mingyu speaks up.Â
Taken out of his trance, Wonwoo lifts his head from the screen of his laptop. An involuntary chuckle erupts from his chest. Despite his muddled thoughts, Mingyu is right. He looks and feels a lot better than he did before.Â
âA lot of shit happened, but yeah, I guess you can say that.âÂ
âHmm, let me guess. You two made up?â Mingyu doesnât beat around the bush.Â
Wonwoo is aware that Mingyuâs probably only asking to remedy his curiosity, or so he could update Kalia about the situation, but he doesnât care. If anything, he wants everyone to know that he won you over instead of Seokmin.Â
âYeah, kinda? I donât know. Iâm trying my best to be better for her though,â Wonwoo lets out a half-hearted sigh.Â
Mingyu looked at him with curiosity, and Wonwoo knew that expression a little too well. It was the âsince when were you the type of person to change for a girlâ look. His friend didnât have to say much for him to understand what Mingyu was attempting to convey.Â
âYouâre serious?â Mingyu presses, a lilt of doubt in his tone of voice.Â
âYeah, I'm serious. Never been more serious in my life,â Wonwoo scoffs, he already knows where this conversation is heading.Â
Mingyu didnât seem to buy it though, eyes rolling as he leaned back in his chair. Wonwoo crosses his arms defensively, it is typical for Mingyu to wonder where his true intentions lie. His track record wasnât the best when it came to girls, unlike Mr. Perfect across from him.Â
Mingyu knew how to deal with relationships, heâs practically married to Kalia at this point.Â
Wonwoo, on the other hand, tended to obsess for a few months before inevitably breaking things off. Itâs practically second nature for him to do so, but this is different. It's you. And Wonwoo knew that meant more to him despite his old habits.Â
âBe for real man, I know you. Are you sure this isnât the same as the last hundred times youâve liked someone?âÂ
âLike? I donât just like her. Iâm in love with her.âÂ
Mingyuâs eyes go wide, Wonwoo has never dropped the Lâword on his friend before. Not about Haein, or any of the other girls heâs dated.Â
âWoah. That's different,â Mingyu lets out a low-whistle.Â
âThat's what I mean. Weâre not talking about just some other girl who I find interesting. This is my best friend,â Wonwoo continues to defend himself.Â
It felt weird to say those words out loud for someone else to hear, but Mingyu was the only person Wonwoo didnât feel insecure talking to despite the fact he practically criticized him during the last study session. Wonwoo needs to let his feelings out into the world, and Mingyu is willing to listen.Â
âOkay, youâve convinced me, but you better not fuck it up. I wonât punch you but I know Kalia would,â Mingyu shrugs, and heâs right. Kalia would beat him up.Â
Wonwoo snorts at Mingyuâs remark, âYour girlfriend is scary.âÂ
âShe is. Just donât be a dumbass and she wonât kill you. You know how much Kalia cares about her.âÂ
âSeems like everyone does. Seokmin cares a little too much,â Wonwoo huffs, thinking back to what you had told him the last time he saw you.Â
âAh. I heard about that,â Mingyu smirks.Â
Wonwoo could feel the hairs on the back of his neck starting to stick up. He didnât particularly like the idea of you and Seokmin together. In all honesty, he doesnât even want to see him within a hundred feet of your person. Wonwoo had half the mind to beat him to a pulp for how he hurt you, and heâs sure that Seokmin feels the same way about him. The only difference was that you had a clear choice, and Wonwoo came out on top.Â
âI canât believe him actually. Heâs dead to me,â Wonwoo scowls, hating the bitter taste Seokminâs name leaves on his tongue.Â
âDude⌠Seokmin is still our friend,â Mingyu attempts to mediate, like the soft-hearted man he is, but Wonwoo doesnât care.Â
âNo. Heâs your friend. What he did is fucked up, even for me. His dumbass is not stepping a foot near her, not if I have any say in the matter.âÂ
Hot on his heels, Wonwoo packs his belongings and exits the library with flames blazing his trail. Mingyu still sits there dumbfounded, recovering from the shock of his friend's crass declaration.Â
five.Â
[12:11 p.m.] [wons <3: meet me at our spot? i have a surprise :)]
Pacing back and forth, Wonwoo waits for you at the aforementioned spot. Itâs a hidden corner on campus you two found in your first year. There were multiple wooden picnic tables scattered around the lawn of green grass, but no one seemed to come to this side of the university. It had been an alcove of secludedness for the two of you since that day. Wonwoo had spent most of his lunch breaks eating here with you when the crowds of students got too overwhelming.Â
Deciding it wasnât doing him any good walking back and forth like a madman, he takes a seat at the table you both claimed for yourselves. Even with the abundance of available picnic tables, neither of you ever sat anywhere else. The tableâs location had always been perfect. Right under a large oak tree that had just the right amount of shade yet a prime amount of sunlight. The leaves had already shed, and there was no protection from the rays, but Wonwoo settled in his unassigned seat anyway.Â
Inspecting the food he bought you, he made sure that it was still warm enough for you to eat. Two grilled pork banh miâs with extra pickled vegetables wrapped securely within the plastic bag, your favourite.Â
Wonwoo had no reason to buy it for you, other than the fact that as he was leaving the library in a sour mood, he was able to snag the last two from the dining hall. Thinking about the look you would have on your face once you got here made him smile to himself. So without a second thought, he paid for the sandwiches before sending you a text.Â
âSo what's the surprise?âÂ
Ears perking, Wonwoo whips his head over in the direction of your sweet voice. Skin glowing in the sunlight, he admires you with a lopsided smile. You look so good today, almost too good. The black skirt you wore flounced with each step you took, while your cardigan hung low on your shoulders.Â
He wishes he could have you only for himself, finding it unfair that everyone else in the whole damn world got to admire how gorgeous you are, including himself. Wonwoo doesnât get tired of looking at you, itâs like a breath of fresh air each time.Â
âHi, darling. There were only two left,â he nudged his head, motioning to the plastic bag that you are very familiar with.Â
With glowing eyes, you let out a squeal of delight. Wonwoo knew he did something right for once.Â
âOh my god. How did you know I was craving these today? I was thinking about it all morning,â you gush, rushing over to open the bag that held your most prized possession.
âI didnât, but I know youâd never say no to your favourite,â he chuckles.Â
You didnât even get to take a proper seat before diving into the banh mi.Â
âI forgot to pack a lunch today,â you bubbled, mouth still half full with food.Â
Wonwoo continues to grin, pleased with himself that something small like this brings you so much happiness. Tutting, he jokingly scolds you, wiping the cilantro that stuck to your cheek.Â
âYou shouldnât talk when your mouth is full darling, youâll choke.âÂ
Rolling your eyes at him, you swallow your food and take a sip of water before continuing with the conversation.Â
âI woke up late today and forgot to make something for lunch, so thank you for this, I was starving,â you beam up at him, sitting cross-legged on the bench.Â
âItâs a good thing Iâm here then, right?â He chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, not wanting it to get in the way of your eating.Â
âYeah I guess youâre right,â you mumble before taking another bite. âFuck this is so good right now, you donât even know.âÂ
Wonwoo hums, amused with your reaction before unwrapping his sandwich. Admiring his view of you, he continues to listen to you talk about how youâre absolutely in the trenches for your next cognitive psychology midterm.Â
âIâm so screwed. I canât seem to properly memorize the theories, especially the one about Piagetâs stages. It keeps getting mixed up in my head,â you mutter in between bites.Â
âI wish I could help, but you're the psych major,â Wonwoo shrugs, bemused at how your cheeks resemble those of a hamster.Â
âTrue. Enough about school, my head hurts just thinking about it,â you sigh.Â
âAlright. No school. Do you have plans for the weekend, at least?â Wonwoo asks.Â
Your eyes lit up at his question, and you were ready to divulge what you had going on for the end of the week. Midterms were only a few days away, and everyone was so high-strung about them. Wonwoo knew you just wanted it to be over. Youâve always been the type to hate preparing for exams.Â
âWell, June, Lynne, Leigh, and I are hitting up Raval on Friday. We wanted to celebrate the start of the mid-term break,â you explain. âYou can join us if you want.âÂ
Before either you or Wonwoo could get another word in, his phone rings obnoxiously on the table. His momâs caller ID flashes across his screen before he accepts the call, propping it up so the both of you are within the camera lens.Â
âHi mama!â you wave excitedly, Wonwooâs mom smiling back at you.Â
There wasnât much he was grateful for in life, but the fact that you and his mom were so close was one of those things.Â
âHey ma, whatâs up?â Wonwoo greets her, the grin on his face widening.Â
âHi, my babies. I just wanted to say hi!â His mom waves her hand at the camera, trying to stay in the frame.Â
âDear, did you get your box of peppermint tea?â she asks you, Wonwooâs gaze returning to your beautiful smile. No words could explain the happiness he felt seeing you talk to his mom.Â
âYes mama, I did, thank you so much! Iâve been drinking it every night,â you assure her, sending her flying kisses through the phone.Â
âWonwoo, treat her well while you guys are away, got it? I just wanted to check on you both real quick,â his mom chattered through the speaker.Â
âYes, ma, I know. Weâre eating lunch, but Iâll call you when I get home. Love you,â Wonwoo feigns annoyance but still tells her he loves her.Â
âBye, mama! Love you,â you bid her farewell, the call beeping indicating that Wonwoo had hung up.Â
For the rest of Wonwooâs lunch break, the two of you ate your banh mi in comfortable silence. There was a silent agreement of eating and just enjoying the view of the secret spot that Wonwoo shares with you. With everyone else gone, it was perfect.Â
If Wonwoo could have any superpower in the world, it would be able to stop time. He yearns for this moment to last forever. Enjoying your company in a secluded part of campus, where thereâs no one to bother you, no one to question your friendship.  Â
He longs for more days with you like this, away from the noise, away from distractions that cause his attention to stray away from who he cares about. He only needs one thing in his life to truly feel fulfilled, and it's you. Â
act three, Hold Me by the Heart.Â
chapter one.Â
Despite the reconciliation between you and Wonwoo, you still find yourself doubting his actions. Did he want to change for the sake of your friendship? Or was he only putting effort knowing you had almost slipped through his fingertips?Â
Warmth enveloped you every time he was around, every time he gave you small words of affirmation. Even with all these signs of growth from him, you still had that vexing churn in your gut.Â
That swirl of intuition felt like you were just waiting for the other shoe to drop. As much as you hate not being able to trust your best friend completely, apprehension continues to gnaw at your insides.Â
âHey? You still in there?â June interrupts your train of thought, waving her hand in front of your gaze.Â
âI thought you and Wonwoo made up?â She continued to press for answers, which was typical of her.Â
âWe did,â you sigh, taking a sip of your Long Island iced tea.Â
âThen why the long face?âÂ
âI donât know. Maybe Iâm just thinking too hard,â you chuckle, although thereâs no humour behind it.Â
June mirrors your expression, frowning alongside you as she pats your back, trying to get you out of your forlorn state.Â
âThat calls for another drink!â She attempts to lighten the mood, her pointer fingers poking at your smile lines, forcing a grin to grace your lips.Â
Rolling your eyes at her, you agree to her proposition. Not wanting to waste your weekend on immutable thoughts of Wonwoo. Heâs the only person who could make you sit around a room full of people and still feel like something, or rather, someone, was missing.Â
In the back of your mind, you wonder if he remembers the confession you accidentally spilled during your fight. In the midst of all the anger, the pent-up frustration, you deliberate whether he still remembers the fleeting âI love youâ that left your trembling lips that night.Â
Before you could blink, June was already back in her seat. A tray of shot glasses filled with brown liquor. There was enough for everyone to take at least two. Although you know itâs not a good idea to get drunk with the negative thoughts floating within your mind, you choose to ignore your rationality for one night.Â
âWonwoo still may be an asshole, but if he makes you happy, who am I to judge?â Leigh speaks up from his seat, knocking back the shot glass till itâs empty.Â
A small giggle leaves your lips, duplicating his actions and swallowing the alcohol in one go.Â
âSo what is the deal with you and Wonwoo now? I feel like every time I see you, heâs right behind you like some kind of brooding bodyguard,â Lynne queries, ready for you to fess up.Â
The breath you take in is sharp, not knowing where to even start. The past month has gone by in a blur, too many events happening in such a short amount of time. You couldnât even process it properly yourself, let alone recite all that has gone down to your friends.Â
âWell, I may have texted him after that incident with Seokmin. And after that, it just snowballed. He started driving me to school again, eating lunch with me, apologizing every chance he got. I-I donât even know anymore,â you inhale, not realizing that you have barely taken a chance to breathe.Â
âInterestingâŚâ Lynne mumbles, tapping on her chin as if she is deep in thought.Â
âHeâs just become more considerate. I donât know why heâs decided to change, but I canât complain because I can see the change,â you continue, defending him. After all, you knew your friends didnât see him in a particularly positive light.Â
There was a pause in the air, everyone sitting at the table still processing your defence. Even if they still hate him, you donât really care. Yes, you care for their opinions, and you cherish their affection for you, but Wonwoo deserves a second chance in your eyes.Â
âI mean⌠Isnât the reason heâs even acting like this because he hated seeing you with Seokmin?â Leigh disputes, and you frown.Â
Thereâs truth behind his statement. Wonwoo only noticed your absence because you had started hanging out with Seokmin more. But it worked in your favour, so can you even be mad?Â
âMaybe. Honestly, I donât think I care about his reasons. He's trying and thatâs all that should matter, right?â you mutter, taking another shot from the tray.Â
The looks on your friendsâ faces say more about what they want to say to you than their words ever could. Youâre disregarding Wonwooâs toxic behaviour in hopes that this new chapter with him is more than just some facade.Â
âOh, thatâs notâŚâ Leigh whispers under his breath but doesnât say more.Â
They know they canât change your mind.Â
[11:17 p.m.]Â [wons <3: still out with your friends?]Â
Your screen's brightness illuminates the bar's dim lighting, bringing everyone's attention to the bubble with Wonwooâs name clearly on display.Â
âSpeaking of the devil,â Lynne shakes her head as she nurses the drink in her hand.Â
[11:18 p.m.] [darling <3: yeahh, weâll probably head home after a few rounds, why?]Â [wons <3: jw. have fun darling]Â [darling <3: thx! ]
âI donât know about you guys, but Iâd rather we drink till I forget everything from midterms instead of talking about Wonwoo,â June pipes up, disrupting the silence that had enveloped your group.Â
As she calls for someone to bring more shots to your table, you quietly smile to yourself. Wonwoo usually was not one to text first, but itâs different now. Even if everyone else canât stand him, you canât help but feel the exact opposite.Â
Thereâs a hum of agreement, and everything becomes a blur after that. The constant flow of alcohol forces you to focus on whatâs in front of you. Wandering thoughts of Wonwoo are brought to a halt as you feel yourself slipping into a drunken state.Â
âŚÂ
âJun! My boyfriend is here!â June exclaims, practically walking sideways outside of Raval. Itâs deep into the night at this point and your friend decided that the best person to call was her boyfriend.Â
As she sways on the sidewalk, your two other friends hold you up in an attempt to keep you from falling face-first into the cement. Despite how late it was, there were still cars bustling past on the street. Junâs car idling as he tries his best to help his girlfriend into the passenger side.Â
The university town is still alive with students entering and exiting outside of the bars and restaurants as everyone celebrates the end of the week. You can only wish for Wonwoo to be here with you, but you knew he wasnât the type to go to bars this late, opting to stay up playing League on his computer instead.Â
âHey babe, if you want, you can call Wonwoo to come pick you up,â Lynne speaks to you soothingly, obviously not as intoxicated as you are. âYouâve been mumbling his name for like ten minutes now.âÂ
âWonwoo? Is he here?âÂ
âNo. But Iâm going to call him so he can get you,â she gives you a tight smile.
Pulling out your phone from her purse, and bringing the screen to your face. You widen your eyes, moving your head closer to the camera. A lopsided smile sneaks its way onto your lips as it unlocks.Â
âAre you sure this is a good idea? Sheâs fucking gone,â Leigh chastises his sister.Â
Lynne gives him an exasperated look, shrugging her shoulders. Her brother rolls his eyes in return, both defeated. They know they canât stop you from wanting Wonwoo, plus heâs the only one who knows the code to your apartment. Youâre too drunk to even unlock your phone, let alone press buttons on the keypad of your door lock.Â
Hell, you canât even stand without falling aimlessly to the ground.Â
âWonwoo? Itâs Lynne. Can you come to Raval?â you barely register your friend's voice, looking off into the distance. Hoping that Wonwoo would magically appear any second from now.Â
The call is dropped and they manoeuvre you onto the bench outside the entrance of the bar. Head flopping onto Leighâs shoulder, you close your eyes. Maybe the next time you open them, Wonwoo will be standing right in front of you.Â
What felt like seconds were actually ten minutes to your slightly more sober friends. Jun and June waiting diligently beside their car waiting for Wonwoo to finally arrive as the other two are constantly trying to keep you upright.Â
When they agreed to have a few more shots, they didnât expect you to take another five along with two more long islands. Regretful for their lack of heed, they had forgotten how much of a lightweight you are.Â
âOh! Fucking finally, I swear he drives like a Grandpa,â Leigh scoffs, seeing Wonwooâs car pull up behind Junâs.Â
âWhere is she?â Wonwoo's voice bellows, and itâs as if heâs near.Â
With your eyes still sealed shut, you mumble incoherently to Leigh, âItâs like heâs right here. Am I that drunk that Iâm imagining things?âÂ
âOh my god⌠take her home please,â Leigh doesnât answer your question and youâre slightly offended.Â
âHey!â you pout, finally opening your eyes as you feel someone tug you away from your source of heat.Â
Strong arms wrap themselves around your waist, a broad chest is the only thing within your line of sight.Â
âExcuse me! Iâm waiting for my Wonwoo to come and pick me up,â you squeak, slapping the chest of whoever is trying to take you away from your friends.Â
Thereâs a collective groan behind you.Â
âSheâs wasted.â Lynne sighs to her brother while he nods in agreement.
âYour Wonwoo?â A familiar voice has you stopping in your tracks.Â
Looking up at the once faceless person who was dragging you away, you find yourself face to face with the man you had been yearning for all night.Â
âWoah. You look just like him,â bemused with the stranger in front of you.Â
Squinting your eyes, your palm traces along his structured jaw. The tips of your finger poking at his cheek affirm your suspicions. He felt very real under your touch. Every line and freckle is scarily alike to your Wonwoo.Â
âLike who?âÂ
âMy Wonwoo.âÂ
The manâs chuckle vibrates deeply against your side. The same side where he has you pinned to his chest. A smug expression is plastered on his face as he watches you with intrigue.Â
âI believe thereâs only one Wonwoo,â he argues.Â
âI disagree,â you huff as he pats your head, ushering you to his car.
 Unsure of why youâre even following some random is beyond you at that moment. All you could think about is texting Wonwoo once youâre safely tucked into bed.Â
âThanks for giving me a call, she hasnât been answering her phone,â Wonwoo bids farewell to your friends as they start to pile into Junâs car.Â
âAt least you can see why she hasnât been texting you back. We mightâve given her too much to drink,â Lynne shakes her head as she chuckles at your drunken state.Â
âIf my opinion matters, I think I had the perfect amount,â you butt in, wanting your friends to know that you can still kind of register what theyâre saying.Â
âRightâŚâ Leigh speaks up. âAnyway, weâre going to leave now that youâre here. Make sure she gets home safe!âÂ
âWill do,â Wonwoo promises, waving them off as Jun drives away.Â
Glowering, you take a second look at him. How weird is it that a Wonwoo look-alike exists? Â
The street lights that line the sidewalk cause your vision to go in and out periodically. If you didnât know any better, you wouldâve thought that the man in front of you was the real deal. But you did know better, and you wouldâve recognized your Wonwoo from a mile away.Â
âI think itâs time that we get you home,â Wonwoo smirks down at you, reaffirming the grip he has on your waist.Â
âHow do you know where I live?â You interrogate him, finding it weird that this man would have your address in the first place.Â
âThatâs a secret that will be revealed later, darling,â He teases, opening the door to his car so you can take a seat.Â
Once heâs on the driver's side, Wonwoo adjusts your seatbelt so itâs not uncomfortable during the ride. The warmth of his arm brings you to snuggle against it, looking up at him with a coy smile.Â
âYou know, for a fake Wonwoo, youâre pretty cute.âÂ
âFake Wonwoo?âÂ
âYeah, real Wonwoo wouldnât come all this way just to pick me up,â you sigh, pulling away from his warmth to stare out the window dramatically.Â
âI think he would.âÂ
Laughing at his statement you roll your eyes. The person in front of you didnât know your best friend like you did.Â
âHow would you know?â You bite back. If anyone could win the âI know Wonwoo more than youâ contest, it's you.Â
âThatâs also a secret.âÂ
Slouching back into your seat you huff out a breath of air once again, âWhy do you have to have so many secrets?âÂ
âBecause.âÂ
âItâs a secret?â you counter. You had a feeling that would be his answer anyway.Â
âSee? Youâre finally getting it,â he gives you a cheesy smile, pinching your cheek.Â
Slapping his hand away, youâre offended at how endeared he is with you. The only thing on your mind was the softness of your comforter and the warm mint tea that you knew you were going to have later.Â
âJust take me home,â you sneer, shifting your whole body away from the driverâs side. Thighs pressed against the door, your brattiness starting to peek through your insobriety.Â
âHey, hey, donât be like that,â Wonwoo pouts, lip jutting out as his eyes sparkle under the city lights.Â
You donât budge, body firmly pressed against the plastic of the car door. Arms crossed as you feign annoyance at him.Â
âYou know, I get really scared driving at night. I think I need you to hold my hand.âÂ
With a sense of reluctance, you offer your hand to him. Unsure of what has you agreeing to his request, you canât say no to someone so handsome. Wonwoo interlaces his fingers with yours, and it surprises you how well your palm fits into his, allowing him to rest your intertwined hands on your lap. Â
The ride back to your apartment is peaceful for the most part. The wistful city lights calm the drumming beat of your heart. Everything moves past in a blur; you canât help but admire the cars driving past, time slowing down with the music lulling through the radio speakers.Â
Serenity is the best way to describe the time you spend sitting next to Wonwoo on the drive towards your place.Â
âI wonder if the real Wonwoo is thinking about me right now,â you mumble, still staring out the window.Â
Wonwooâs hand still entwined with yours, he hums along with the music, the other one on the steering wheel. Initially, you thought he didnât hear what you had said, but he ended up replying to you.Â
âI know he is.âÂ
Turning in your seat, you look at him, analyzing his side profile as he stares ahead. Thereâs yet another frown that settles into the fine line of your face, how could he possibly know whether or not Wonwoo is thinking about you?Â
âYou donât know that,â you speak with a sour tone.Â
âI do though,â he counters with a glance towards you.Â
âHow?âÂ
Disgruntled at his amusement, you know heâs just going to say itâs another one of his secrets, which youâre starting to get sick and tired of. Why canât he just tell you? Itâs not like youâll see him after today.Â
âNevermind. Youâre just going to say itâs a secret,â you grumble but still hold onto his hand.Â
For whatever reason, you become engrossed in the view of your hands linked together. His slender fingers and clean nails had you intrigued. You had a feeling that you looked silly just staring at his hand in yours, but there was no helping it.Â
Fake Wonwoo has nice hands.Â
âYou have pretty hands,â you tell him, no filter left within you due to your lack of sobriety.Â
âThank you,â he grins, tightening his grasp on you.Â
The drive felt longer than youâre used to, but you decided to blame everything on the alcohol.Â
âAre we almost there yet?âÂ
âYes darling, just a few more minutes,â he answers you, rubbing small circles on the side of your thumb.
Another five minutes felt more like a year, but you couldnât complain. Your seat was comfortable, the heater was at the right temperature and Wonwooâs hold brought you solace.Â
âWeâre here. Iâm gonna help you out okay? So just sit pretty and Iâll get you,â Wonwoo explains, and your cheeks burn from his indirect compliment.Â
âOkay.âÂ
A few seconds pass and the door opens, his tall figure slouching down to grab you by your waist. He circles behind your back before leaning over to undo the seatbelt. It was almost too affectionate for a stranger, but something inside you had you leaning your head against his shoulder.Â
âDonât worry about walking. Iâll carry you.âÂ
You donât respond to him, instead, you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and hold onto him even tighter. Breathing in his cologne, you smell the familiar scent of Wonwooâs cologne. Your olfactory senses take in the aroma of rose and pear.Â
Lazy Sunday Morning. It was your favourite out of all the perfumes he owns.Â
Closing your eyes, you allow Wonwoo to carry you inside your apartment. The sound of buttons beeping at the front of the entrance, and the warmth of his body, almost entranced you into a slumber. But you didnât want the fantasy to end, you didnât want this version of Wonwoo to slip out of your grasp.Â
Nose nuzzling into the dip between his neck and shoulder, you make yourself comfortable as he stands inside the elevator, you in his arms, waiting to ascend to your floor.
The beeping sound returns as Wonwoo opens the front door that leads to your home. Thereâs a sense of wonder: Would this be what it would be like if Wonwoo were finally yours?Â
Would he carry you to bed when you were too tired to stand? Hold your hand in his during every car ride? The thought of those things happening seemed like it would only be possible in some made-up faraway land.Â
âDarling, weâre home,â Wonwooâs baritone voice brings you out of your half-awake dream.Â
Weâre home. How bittersweet it sounds coming from the lips of someone who isnât yours.Â
âThank you.âÂ
âAnything for you.âÂ
The mattress sinks a tad as you feel yourself being placed into the warmth of your comforter. Your arms donât let go of your hold on Wonwooâs shoulders. As you stare into his eyes, the dim lighting of your bedside lamp aids in resurfacing a sense of clarity within you.Â
âWill you finally tell me your secrets?â You whisper, even though there is no reason to.Â
âOnly if you tell me yours.âÂ
There's a pause. No one dares to speak as you two continue to look at each other in silence. All that is left unspoken can be seen through his eyes, you wanted to ask. Every particle inside you just wanted to know whether there was a chance he felt the same way you did.Â
âCome and lay beside me?â You request, tone laced with reticence.Â
âAnything for you,â he repeats once again.Â
Lowering his body onto yours, arms still circling his shoulders, he shifts a little so that your hands are still on him. The two of you face each other while the atmosphere is left unwavering.Â
What you thought would be better left unsaid takes permanent residence at the forefront of your mind. Why do you want to tell this version of Wonwoo your deepest most kept secrets all of a sudden?Â
Perhaps you thought that if you admitted anything now, itâll be forgotten in the morning. It was safe with this fantasy Wonwoo who had no real attachment to the one who lives in your reality. But the effects of all those shots have started to wear off, and youâre left with a very real version of the person youâre irrevocably in love with.Â
âYou have to go first,â you speak in a hushed tone.Â
Wonwooâs arms grip your waist tighter, pulling you into his chest. The arms that are linked behind his neck do the same, holding him taut against you. You donât want him to leave. You donât want this form of Wonwoo to disappear before your eyes.Â
âWell, I didnât think it would take you this long to realize but, I am the real Wonwoo,â his chuckle is deep, the glint of amusement sparkling in his eyes.Â
âI think I did. I just didnât want this dream to end,â you smile bitterly.Â
âBut itâs not a dream? Iâm here with you, and Iâm very real.âÂ
Burying your face into his sweater, you sigh harshly. This is where it ends.Â
âIâm sorry. It was probably such a nuisance having to pick me up just for me to spew out nonsense in return,â Youâre embarrassed, hiding your face even further into his chest.Â
âWill you please look at me?â Wonwoo asks, his voice low, âYouâll never be a nuisance to me.âÂ
 His hand comes up to your head, fingers carding down your hair. Staring deeply into your eyes, you can feel his sincerity. The breath in your throat is caught and youâre unable to conjure up a reply.Â
âI know that old version of me is stuck in your mind, but I donât want to be like that anymore. Iâm willing to pick you up, no matter the distance. I wish you knew that sooner,â he vows, eyebrows scrunching as he tries to convey his feelings to you.Â
âIâll tell you my secret since you told me yours. I donât think I would be able to say this while Iâm sober,â you begin to lay your heart out bare for him.Â
Taking a moment to think about how you want to word your confession, you grasp the hand thatâs cradling your head. Intertwining your fingers with his once again, you stare at Wonwoo like heâs the answer to all your problems.Â
The siren-like voice that sings within your heart is finally able to release itself from the prison your brain had placed it in. All youâve wanted from Wonwoo was for him to love you, and on the off chance he feels the same way, then youâre willing to take the plunge into the deep waters of the unknown.Â
âI donât know if you remember me telling you, that time during our fight. I wasâI am in love with you. I know you donât feel the same way, I understand, but I donât think I can be friends with you after this.âÂ
âReal or fake, whatever you are or whatever this moment is. Iâm still in love with you. I hate that I canât tell you this without feeling scared or ashamed. Iâve loved you since the moment you came into class with your big nerdy glasses. Iâve loved you since you came back for a senior year when you had everyoneâs attention on you. And Iâve loved you even when you were in love with someone else.âÂ
Taking a breath, you stop your tangent for a moment before beginning again.Â
âIâve loved you during everything weâve been through together. Even when I chose to ignore you, I woke up every morning with you still on my mind. It was hard, and I donât know why I couldnât let go of my feelings for you but a part of me was always hoping that one day you would feel the same way.â Â
Itâs done. There was nothing you could do to backtrack on your words. No time machine to take away your confession and erase it from his memory. Your heart felt free for the first time in years, and the weight on your shoulders lightened exponentially.Â
Wonwoo doesnât dare speak, and your pulse quickens from his prolonged silence. The mere seconds that passed felt like an eternity, and that was enough to bring you out of your drunken state.Â
âWill you still love me tomorrow? When it's morning, and youâre sober. Will I still be the one you love?â Wonwoo's voice is timbre, barely loud enough to hear over your beating heart.Â
âYes. Even when you werenât around. Even when you werenât available, I still loved you,â you admit to him.Â
The fingers that were laced with yours move to your jaw, Wonwooâs palm tracing every outline of your face. The rough skin from his thumb contrasts the softness of your cheek. Memorizing every line and wrinkle, he continues to caress you, as if he was communicating with his touch.Â
âIf you didnât want me tomorrow, youâd still be the person I wake up thinking about. I hated not knowing whether you meant what you said,â he pauses, clarifying his jumble of words, âthe night we fought, I mean. Because I heard you, even when I was blinded with jealousy and anger. I had hoped you meant what you confessed to me that night.âÂ
The sinking feeling in your stomach doesnât subside. There hadnât been a day in all the years youâve known your best friend where you thought you would hear him reciprocate the feelings you were holding deep down inside you.
âWhat Iâm trying to say is that Iâm in love with you. Iâm sorry it took so long for me to realize that it was you all along. I donât know why I never admitted it to myself, but youâve been in front of me this whole time.âÂ
The pad of Wonwooâs thumb shadows over your bottom lip, your breath hitching under his touch. With soft eyes and an even softer touch, Wonwoo couldnât take his hands off you. There was no lewd denotation behind his actions, just wanting to feel his skin against yours.Â
âI feel so much regret because you were always the one person I truly wanted and I never acted on those instincts,â Wonwoo confided, the weight of his words seeping into you with a profound sense of awareness.Â
âIâm yours, Wonwoo. That will never change,â you speak frankly.Â
âJust promise me youâll love me tomorrow too,â he chokes out.Â
âIâll love you even if there is no tomorrow.âÂ
chapter two, the first day of junior year.Â
Before the age of sixteen, everything was a blur. Your routine was mundane, with average grades, average parents, and an even more average love life. Before the age of sixteen, there were no particular moments in all your years worth noting. It wasnât until you met Wonwoo on the first day of eleventh grade.Â
Once you laid your eyes on him, you saw the potential of a new friendship. However, your teenage self didnât realize how deep-rooted Wonwoo would become in your life from that day forward.Â
âHi! Itâs nice to meet you. Wonwoo right?â You greeted, your figure looming over Wonwoo who was sitting at the picnic table in the school's courtyard.Â
The September sun shone bright, blinding Wonwoo as he placed a hand over his eyes to get a better look at the stranger in front of him.Â
You explicitly remembered him eating lunch alone while playing Super Smash Bros on his Nintendo Switch. His black hair was long and covered his forehead, glasses were thick and large-framed. Wonwoo was a breath of fresh air from the other boys at your school. Unlike the rest of them, he was more reserved and didnât talk much. His silence intrigued you.Â
âHi?â he replied as a confused frown graced his lips before he returned to his game.
Deciding to ignore his introverted personality, you introduce yourself. You take out your lunch box, unveiling the spam musubi you prepared the night before.Â
âDo you mind if I join you?â you ask him even though youâve already begun unpacking the food from your bag.Â
âWell, I guess itâs okay,â he shrugged, interested in everything but the person sitting beside him.Â
Peering closer at his screen, you watched with intent. The two characters fighting on a floating stage, Wonwoo spamming buttons with expertise. Youâve played Super Smash Bros before, but you werenât as good as him.Â
âAre you playing Smash Bros? Youâre really good,â you mumbled, taking a bite of your food.Â
âThanks.âÂ
Miffed by his lack of speech, you continued to watch him play, his triangle kimbap left ignored as he focused on winning.Â
âYou can do multiplayer with this right? Can I play too?â you asked him, observing his gameplay over his shoulder.Â
He shoots you a quirked eyebrow before returning his attention to his screen. Three to zero. You found Wonwoo to be an expert compared to your novice skills.Â
âYou know how to play?â Wonwoo stared at you in disbelief.Â
âDuh! Sometimes Seokmin brings his switch for spare period. I only play Cloud or Bayonetta though,â you explained.Â
Wonwoo looked impressed with your knowledge of the characters. He shrugged his shoulders before setting up his switch into a two-player mode. Handing you the red switch controller, you shook your head in refusal.Â
âNope. I can only play with the blue controller.âÂ
âHuh? How does that even make sense?â He scoffed but gave you the blue one anyway.Â
Taking the controller from his hands, you gave him a grateful smile.Â
âBlue is my favourite colour,â you told him, bumping your shoulder with his.Â
Wonwoo is confused by your outward personality, unsure of how to react to you being so comfortable with someone you had just met, but he didnât complain. It was his first day at a new school and it wouldnât be so bad making a new friend as soon as possible.Â
The player screen lit up and you quickly decided on Cloud, while Wonwoo opted to play Kirby. Smart, you thought. If played correctly, Kirby can easily absorb the abilities of his opponents.Â
With a randomly chosen stage, the game commenced. It didnât take long for Wonwoo to win. He was more experienced than you were, but you had fun nonetheless.Â
âYouâre terrible at this,â He chuckles, looking at you with a cat-like smile.Â
The smitten grin on your face was difficult to hide as you stared back into his eyes. Something shifted in you that day, and it marked the first time you saw Wonwoo in a romantic light. Call it cliche for falling for him so quickly, but you couldnât help it, you were only human after all.Â
âI never said I was good,â you shrugged, feigning innocence.Â
âI guess youâre right.âÂ
âCan we play again tomorrow?âÂ
âSure,â Wonwoo nodded his head, placing down his switch to get back to his food.Â
Enraptured by him from that moment on, you found yourself hopelessly wishing to become closer to Wonwoo. If there was one sure thing about you, it was persistence. From that day forward, you didnât leave Wonwooâs side, spending your lunch under the autumn sun and playing games on his switch.Â
âŚÂ
october of junior year.Â
[10:00 p.m] [you: did you finish ur hw? :D] [wonwoo: yes. did u?] [you: nope :( it was hurting my brain so im watching nana] [wonwoo: nana?] [wonwoo: never heard of it] [you: omgâŚ] [you: itâs the best anime ever!!] [wonwoo: i didnât know u liked anime] [you: uve got a lot to learn abt me wons] [wonwoo: wons?] [you: my nickname for u obvs hehe] [*you changed wonwooâs nickname to wons*] [wons: ok] [you: u should watch it. It WILL change your life] [wons: ok, maybe later. gotta go to bed. see u tmrw] [you: ok grandpa :p see u tmrw!!] [you: bring ur switch!] [wons: sure. bye.]Â
âŚ
âWonwoo! Wait up for me,â you hollered, waving your hand in the air even though his back was facing towards you.Â
Turning around, Wonwoo stared blankly as you ran up to him. Halting his steps, he waited for you to catch up. The backpack you were wearing flops up and down as you picked up your speed.Â
The weather was colder now, and the leaves morphed into deeper shades of yellow and red. Wind whistling as you finally reached where he stood, you gave him a bright smile, so bright that it offset the gloomy sky.Â
âMorning,â he greeted you.Â
Air knocked out of your chest, and you folded over with your hands on your knees, trying to calm your racing heartbeat. Wonwoo grasped your elbow to help, but this didnât help your already out-of-breath state. His touch caused sparks to erupt under your skin. Luckily, the commotion caused by your run concealed your nerves.Â
âWhy didnât you tell me we lived on the same street?â you heaved while Wonwoo used his grip to help you stand straight.
âHow was I supposed to know?â he rebutted.Â
Rolling your eyes at him, you knew he was right. But if you had known sooner, you couldâve spent your previous mornings walking with him to school.Â
âCan we walk to school together from now on then?â you batted your eyelashes at him, shooting him a sweet smile.Â
âI donât mind,â he shrugged his shoulders again.Â
Youâve found Wonwoo to be quite nonchalant, his reactions never more than a distant stare, a chuckle, or a shoulder shrug, no in between. Wonwooâs lack of care for anything and everything is what endeared you the most. Despite his standoffish personality, you knew there was more to him deep down. He didnât talk much, but his actions spoke louder than his words did.Â
âŚÂ
november of junior year.
Thanks to your English teacher, Mr. Park, you and Wonwoo have been paired up for your biology project. Not only did that mean you would get to spend more time with Wonwoo but it also meant you secured a good grade for the assignment.Â
Science in general has never been your strong suit, but whenever you asked Wonwoo to explain the concepts to you, everything somehow made sense.Â
The walk to his house was nerve-wracking. It was the first time going over to a boyâs place, and the fact that it was Wonwoo made you even more anxious. He didnât talk much about his family unless you asked. The only thing you knew was that he had an older brother named Seongho.Â
âMa! Iâm home,â Wonwoo greeted his mother, and you're taken aback by how loud his voice got.Â
Due to his introverted personality, Wonwoo didnât talk at school unless spoken to, and it was exciting to finally see him in a setting where he was comfortable.Â
His mom poked her head out from the kitchen and gave you both a warm smile. Patting her hands off the apron, she immediately pulled you into a hug. She smelt like lavender and vanilla, giving off a homey aroma.Â
âWonwoo! You didnât tell me you got a girlfriend,â she exclaimed, pinching her sonâs cheek.Â
Wonwoos's face flared red, and he retracted from his mother's touch. âSheâs not my girlfriend. We have a project to work on.âÂ
âOops! Sorry. You two had better get to work then. Iâll call you when the food is ready. Youâll stay for dinner, right dear?â She beamed down at you.Â
âIf you and Wonwoo donât mind, then I can,â you grinned at her while Wonwoo was urging you upstairs.Â
âOf course, I donât mind. Itâs nice to see my little Wonwoo making friends at his new school,â she cooed at her son, which had him rolling his eyes.Â
âMom, Iâm sixteen,â Wonwoo groaned, discreetly stepping towards the direction of his room.Â
âThanks, Mrs. Jeon!â you responded as Wonwoo dragged you by the wrist, hauling you along with him.Â
His fingers are wrapped around your forearm, trying to get you away from his Mom as fast as he could.Â
The moment you stepped into his room, you found it cleaner than an average teenage boyâs would be. Your eyes panned over his space, spotting the gaming pc in the corner. Marvelling at the RGB lighting, you gasped at the clicky-ness of the keyboard.Â
âWoah⌠this is so cool!â you gushed, tapping random keys to feel the switches underneath.Â
âI guess,â Wonwoo muttered, shutting the door behind him.Â
The closed door muffled any sound from outside his room, and you were left alone with Wonwoo and the silence he brought along with him.Â
âYour mom is really nice,â you chirped.Â
Wonwoo responded with a shrug of his shoulders. Classic. Instead of saying anything more, he took the poster board out of his bag and placed it on his bed.Â
âWe should get started,â Wonwoo said firmly.Â
You could only sigh at how serious he was about school. Of course, you knew the importance of diligence when it comes to projects and assignments, but you felt that this was the perfect time to learn more about your new friend.Â
Sitting beside him on his bed, you crossed your legs and took the large biology textbook out of the bag alongside your laptop.Â
âInherited genes and Sickle-cell anemia, sounds boring,â you huffed.Â
Wonwoo ignored your statement and grabbed the textbook from you to look up information that would help with your project.Â
âDonât you think weâre working on this too early? We have likeâŚtwo weeks,â you whined.Â
âThe sooner we get this over with the better,â he nipped, flipping the pages without a single glance over at you.Â
The brightness of your laptop illuminated Wonwooâs dim room. Aside from the computer and his bedside lamp, the rest of his lights were off. Opening up the doc, you couldnât help but sneak glances over at him.Â
Wonwoo fixed his glasses, pushing the frames up his tall nose. You couldnât stop yourself from staring. There was something about him that made him undeniably handsome, your teenage brain couldnât comprehend it.Â
âYâknow Mr. Park is pretty chill. We donât have to do this all in one night.âÂ
âI know,â Wonwoo muttered, still reading the textbook, looking for information to cite for your project.Â
Wonwoo could feel your eyes focused on him, but he ignored them, pretending to read the words on the page instead. Wonwoo didnât mind that you had a habit of staring at him, but he didnât know how to spark conversation. You were quite talkative, so he decided that it was better for you to take the lead.Â
Putting up with his adamance, the two of you worked on your project for a good hour before you decided that the words "sickle cell" and "genes" were hurting your eyes.Â
âCan we take a break, it feels like my brain is going to pop out of my skull,â you sighed, flopping against his mattress.Â
Wonwoo shot you a scolding expression but gave in to your wishes. And like a lightbulb had gone off in your head, you quickly got back up. Furiously typing on your laptop, you go onto the illegal site where you had NANA bookmarked.Â
âHow about we watch an episode? You havenât started it yet right?â you enquired, looking at him with the biggest grin on your face.Â
âI havenât, no,â he answered you.Â
With a squeal, you clicked on the first episode while making yourself comfortable. Wonwoo moved next to you, and excitement coursed through your veins. His warmth radiated off him, and the feeling of him sitting so close made butterflies erupt within you.Â
Despite Wonwooâs reluctance to take a break from schoolwork, you found him genuinely interested in the show. Nothing could compare to the feeling of sitting in silence with him, just enjoying his presence as NANA played on your laptop.Â
For the rest of your self-declared break, you and Wonwoo got through the first two episodes.Â
There was a part of you that wondered if he could hear how fast your heart was racing, being that close to him. But you felt daring in that moment, allowing yourself to rest your head against his shoulder. Wonwoo stiffened slightly at your proximity but didnât budge. If anything, he relaxed further. So you stayed in that position, if he could hear your thumping pulse, you didnât care.Â
âWell, what do you think?â you looked up at him, curious about his first impression.Â
âItâs good. Nana seems very naive though,â he disclosed, pushing his glasses up once again.Â
âHmm, interesting. The plot gets better the more you watch, so I hope youâll give it a chance,â you gave him a shy smile which he returned.Â
Any other person probably wouldâve refused to watch this show with you. Knowing Wonwoo, he was more into shounen than shoujo or slice of life. Yet, he spent an hour watching an anime that was out of his usual genre. It made you feel safe. Safe enough to talk about your interests without worrying whether or not heâd find you bothersome.Â
âSure. I think I liked it enough to watch on my own,â he admitted.Â
âWait. Really?â you gasped, shocked that he enjoyed it.Â
âYeah. At least then we have more to talk about,â he specified.
The smile on your face broadened, and you leaned into him even more as you both stared ahead, starting the third episode. Once again, he didnât stop you. Instead, Wonwoo wrapped his arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him.Â
âYouâre a good friend Wons,â you confirmed.Â
âAnd youâre my only friend,â he confessed, patting your shoulder.Â
âDon't worry. Iâll always be your friend,â you mumbled before staring deeply into his eyes.Â
Wonwoo chuckled at your words, nodding his head in agreement.Â
âI feel like I should be the one saying that,â he mused, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin.Â
âItâs okay. Iâm glad I decided to sit next to you on the first day of school,â you laughed, reminiscing about that warm September day.Â
âIâm glad too.âÂ
After that day, Wonwoo had become more comfortable with talking to you about the things he didnât share with others. He made you feel special. Although you had close friends like Seokmin and Mingyu during your first two years in high school, there were parts about yourself that you knew you couldnât unveil to them.Â
It wasnât that they were judgmental or bad friends; Wonwoo just brought out something different in you. Although it took a while to break him out of his shell, he continued to reveal more about himself the more time you spent with him.Â
The closeness that you two shared that night in his bedroom, watching NANA on your laptop sparked a flame inside you. Wonwoo took over every crevice of your mind, his scent, his touch, even if it was a mere hand on your shoulders, you didnât want to go a day without him. Life was meaningless before you met Wonwoo, a blur of memories you couldnât pinpoint. Now that he was with you, you didnât want to ever go back to a time when he was not by your side.Â
chapter three, present time.Â
Sunlight pours through your curtains, hitting your eyes with a blinding sheen. The ache of last night's decisions trickles down your head and into the tense muscles of your shoulders. You can only curse your past self for drinking way more than your limit allows.Â
Whatever had happened last night felt straight out of a movie, especially because it had caused you to dream about Wonwoo finally being yours. As you recollect the memories of yesterday, the pang in your heart intensifies.Â
The oddly vivid visions of you and Wonwoo cuddling under blankets leave a bitter taste in your mouth. It felt so real you could almost smell the faint lingering scent of his cologne on your sheets. But alas, it was just another drunken fantasy you wish you could live in.Â
âIâll love you even if there is no tomorrow.â
You almost scoff at how cheesy you sounded in your dream. What kind of fool speaks this articulate after countless shots of tequila?Â
The sounds of pots clanging brings you out of your thoughts, and you practically jump off your mattress and run to the entrance of your room. Placing an ear against the thick wood, you listen carefully for signs of an intruder. Thereâs a grunt that resounds through your apartment and has sirens blaring in your mind. You mustâve been very drunk last night, and stupid enough to leave your door unlocked.Â
There was nothing in your bedroom that could be of use to you in a situation like this. Except for the dildo that June gifted you for your birthday last year. With a defeated sigh, you decided that it was needed during this life-or-death situation. Opening up your drawer you carefully take out the pink sparkly dildo that was still left in its packaging, gripping it tightly as you burst through the door.Â
Screaming, you lunge towards the intruderâs large frame with your eyes shut tight, smacking him repeatedly with the phallic piece of plastic.Â
âGet out! You freak! Get out!â You shriek, hitting his back with a large thump.Â
The intruder groans in pain, the sound of his discomfort all too familiar. Halting your assault on his naked back, you open your eyes. Only for your sight to befall an extremely muscular and shirtless Wonwoo.Â
âOw! What the fuck?â Wonwoo grunts, turning around to see your smaller frame gripping a bright pink dildo.Â
His eyes widen with recognition, adjusting his glasses, he chuckles at you and your dishevelled state. The sex toy in your hand falls to the ground as you stare at him with an expression filled with not only pure shock but horror.Â
Never in your life did you think that Wonwoo would be the one standing shirtless in your kitchen. The idea of someone breaking into your house seems more plausible than whatever is happening before your eyes right now.Â
âIâm tryna make you breakfast, and this is how you repay me?â Wonwoo laughs, grabbing the toy from your kitchen floor and placing it down on the counter.Â
âI-Uhm. Itâs a gift! Yeah,â you stutter, âJune gave me it last year as a gift. Itâs unused, I promise.âÂ
Wonwoo quirks an eyebrow at you, stepping forward, crowding you with his large chest. The counter hits your back and you find yourself caged between the granite and Wonwooâs naked upper half.Â
âSo you used it to hit me instead?â Wonwoo deducts, his palms gripping the counter so you have nowhere left to run.Â
Despite the awkward situation you put yourself in, your mind is elsewhere now that Wonwoo has you in his hold. The words that you want to come out of your mouth are clogged with Wonwooâs bare chest, the only thing youâre able to focus on.Â
âW-well, I thought you were breaking in so,â you start but Wonwoo cuts you off.Â
âDo you not remember what happened last night, darling?â He asks you, and the breath in your throat is caught.Â
âLast night? I-I thought that was a dream,â you mutter, still staring deeply into his eyes.Â
Sighing, Wonwoo pushes the loose strand of hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek. His thumb moves languidly against your skin while you lean into his touch even more.Â
âNo. It wasnât a dream. I told you I loved you last night and I meant it,â he clarifies, earnest with his confession.Â
âI love you too,â the words spill out of your mouth effortlessly, like you were meant to tell him all along.Â
Grinning down at you, Wonwoo places a gentle kiss on your lips. His large hands cupping your face as he does so.Â
Pulling back he smiles at you once again, satisfied with the one little peck that he had given you. But you canât help but pout. You wanted more from him, but there was a lot to address than just the feelings you two shared last night.Â
Like the dildo suctioned to your counter, for example.Â
âWhy are you shirtless?â you ask, starting with the first thing in front of you.Â
âBecause darling, youâre wearing my shirt,â answering nonchalantly as he turns back to hand you a plate of eggs and bacon.Â
Oh, right. You look down at the white shirt thatâs draped over your frame. Dumbfounded, you mumble a quick thanks before nibbling on the food he gave you.Â
Wonwoo grips your hand, pulling you to sit down on the couch with him. You werenât sure what else to say, opting to focus on the food in front of you instead. If there was something Wonwoo wanted to mention, you gave him the time to do so.Â
âYou probably donât remember me helping you get ready for bed. You were kinda out of it once we got home,â he explains.Â
With your legs crossed on the sofa, you nod, processing the information before waiting for him to continue.Â
Wiping the corner of your mouth, Wonwooâs lips are upturned into a fond smile. Your cheeks grow hot as he continues to stare.Â
âWhatever happened last night wasnât a dream. I do love you, I mean it. I want to be yours if youâll give me a chance,â he professes.Â
All while youâre sitting there eating strips of bacon and a couple of eggs. You had been mistaken to think that last night was some fever dream because this moment is more fitting.Â
For anyone else, eating while Wonwoo is admitting his love for you would be odd, and out of the ordinary. But this felt natural somehow like a different version of you in some other universe has already experienced it.Â
âI just want to be yours, Wonwoo.â you sigh, placing your plate on the coffee table.Â
Inching closer to him, you place yourself on his lap, your hands circling his broad shoulders. Your head makes itself at home in the dip between his shoulder and neck as you breathe in his cologne.Â
Lazy Sunday Morning. Your favourite.Â
âIâve always just wanted to be yours,â your voice is meek, muffled from hiding your face against his skin.Â
Wonwooâs hand rubs up and down the expanse of your back, and you relax under his touch. Completely disarmed under the daze of your subsiding headache and the steady inhale and exhale of his breath.Â
Nothing else in the world matters to you when youâre in his hold. Outside disruptions are muted, the only thing that can be heard is your heart pounding within the confines of your chest.Â
Pulling back from where your head was resting, you drink in Wonwooâs every feature. The ones that youâve memorized and the ones youâve missed from never being this close to him. You want to know all of him, want to feel and see all of him.Â
With the most delicate of motions, you place your lips over his. Thereâs a ruggedness to his skin, yet he feels so gentle against you all at the same time. The softness of love that youâve never experienced before. There havenât been many instances where youâve got to kiss someone so deeply, yet itâs the least of your worries. All that matters to you now is Wonwoo.Â
He tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you closer to him, which almost seemed impossible. But he makes it happen anyway, clutching onto you like his life depended on it.Â
âWonwoo.â Pulling away, you whimper breathlessly, wanting more and more of him.Â
The sweet sounds that erupt from you cause a groan to leave his throat, crashing his lips against yours once again. The tenderness that was evident before is overtaken by the heat of lust. Like tides to an ocean, Wonwoo kisses you with full force, and you donât care if you can barely breathe or if your heart is suddenly going into overdrive. Youâd rather suffocate in his grasp than go another minute without him all over you.Â
âYouâre fucking perfect, darling,â Wonwoo whispers in your ear, his lips trailing down your cheek and down to your neck.Â
Your head lolls with pleasure, feeling him press hot kisses against your scorching skin. Tiny licks here and there that force your eyes to roll back, you find purchase in his black locks, tugging at them in an attempt to ground yourself.Â
âBe my girlfriend. Be mine, please,â Wonwoo speaks in hushed tones, his lips searing against the shell of your ear.Â
You moan out, nodding your head as his hand moves down to squeeze the meat of your ass. He pulls you right onto his hardening length, your sleep shorts leaving nothing up to the imagination. The hands he has placed on your bottom forces you to drag your hips back and forth against his clothed dick.Â
âYes, I want it so bad. I wanna be yours, forever,â you sigh, mustering up enough brainpower to answer him.
Before you two could get any further the shrill of a ringtone brings you out of your lustful state. Wonwoo refuses to let you go, instead, he keeps you firmly on his lap while he answers the phone.Â
You canât help but giggle at how frustrated he looks. Eyebrows furrowed with a disappointed frown on his swollen lips. Heâs still hard against you, and the thought of teasing him while heâs speaking to someone over the phone seems like a brilliant idea.Â
âWhat do you want, Jeonghan?â Wonwoo grumbles, his hand moving under your shorts to squeeze you properly.Â
While his hand massages into the fat, you kiss up his neck while rubbing yourself against his clothed cock. His voice becomes strained, attempting to cover up the sounds of pleasure heâs emitting with a cough.Â
âWhat? You had to call me just for that?â Wonwoo seethes, yet he continues to play with your ass as he takes his call. As if youâre some type of stress ball to relieve his vexation.Â
âNo. Sheâs right beside me,â he mumbles and you perk up now that his attention is back on you.Â
Grabbing the phone that heâs holding, you greet Jeonghan through the speaker.Â
âHi Hannie!âÂ
âHi, beautiful. Are you down to go to my place tonight? Everyoneâs coming over,â Jeonghan explains, his voice like honey.Â
Wonwoo rolls his eyes at the pet names, clearly unamused by his friend's flirty personality. Without a second to waste, he dives into the skin at the base of your neck, trickling down to your exposed shoulder where the collar of his shirt fails to cover.Â
âO-of course! Weâll see you later, okay?â you stutter, unable to focus with Wonwoo all over you.Â
âGot it! Donât be late, love you!â He says his goodbyes before hanging up.Â
âLove you too!â
Wonwoo stops in his tracks, his eyes piercing into yours, deadly and swirling with desire. The phone in your hand is discarded somewhere on the floor before he grabs your face, pinching you with his thumb and index finger.Â
âYouâve got a lot of nerve baby, teasing me like that. Telling Jeonghan you love him,â Wonwoo spits, but there's amusement behind his serious tone.Â
âMâsorry, Iâll make it up to you later, okay? I want to get ready for Jeonghanâs thing,â you smile at him cheekily as you release yourself from his hold.Â
âOh Iâm sure you will,â he huffs, but lets you go anyway.
Acting unaffected, you get up from his lap, running to the bathroom to start a shower while you leave Wonwoo hot and bothered on the couch. You canât help but giggle to yourself, excited for whatever awaits you later on.Â
The pain and undeniable suffering you had gone through seemed like a memory of the past. The years of yearning for your best friend are nothing but another fever dream. At least you wish it was all a dream, but now that you have Wonwoo in this reality, you donât want to let him go.Â
It's almost laughable how quickly things can change overnight, it felt like yesterday you were crying yourself to sleep over Wonwoo not reciprocating your feelings, and now you have him shirtless on the couch after a very hot make-out session.Â
This must be what your heart was telling you all along. This must be what was beyond the dark water of the unknown. Youâre thankful you took the plunge because the risk of unveiling your true feelings has given you something undeniably saccharine in return.Â
Kiss it Better.Â
chapter one.
When Wonwoo met you for the first time, he couldnât help but find you annoying. You had a habit of sticking to his side when he chose to spend time alone, but in hindsight, it brought him more joy than annoyance.Â
He had always been a shy kid and preferred to sit alone at lunch playing games or reading. But when you came into his life, he realized that some company isnât so bad after all.Â
Now that heâs older, and the two of you have grown together, he wouldnât replace your presence for anyone else. There was something about your personality that made him feel comfortable. It wasnât long before Wonwoo found a home within you, from your bright smile to your incessant need to play Super Smash Bros each lunch period. Heâs thankful he had decided to let the walls he built up come down for the sake of your friendship.
âŚÂ
It wasnât long before the two of you arrived at Jeonghanâs apartment. The door was left unlocked for others to come and go as they pleased. Music was blasting from his surround-sound speakers. Wonwoo wasnât sure how his friend was able to get away from noise complaints, but he decided that it wasnât any of his business.Â
The only thing he was looking forward to was the look on Seokminâs face once he saw that you were finally his.Â
Wonwoo didnât care that it was selfish of him to arrive with you draped on his arm; he wanted everyone to know that you were off limits. He simply couldnât wait to see the reactions that would erupt from his friends once he disclosed that heâd claimed his mark on you.Â
âWonwoo!â Jeonghan calls out for him, standing by the island pouring drinks for him and Seungcheol.Â
His attention diverges, stalking over to his friends with your hand clasped in his. The small action doesnât go unnoticed as he watches Jeonghan briefly glance over to your intertwined hands.Â
The pride brewing in his chest swells, you look irresistible and he knows what awaits him later on when you two get home. But he can indulge in his fantasy later, for now, heâll settle for admiring your beauty in a more discreet way. Which wasnât all that methodical in retrospect, because he canât take his eyes off you.Â
Your skirt is short and the frilly lace top youâre wearing shows off your cleavage tastefully. If Wonwoo had it his way, he wouldnât have let you out of your apartment till the sun was up the next morning.Â
âHello, beautiful. You look amazing,â Jeonghan greets you, forcing you to take your hand out of his grasp to hug your extremely flirtatious friend.
The absence of your touch irked him, but he let you go, not wanting to startle the rest of the group with his growing possessiveness.Â
âThank you, Hannie,â your voice muffles from being engulfed in Jeonghanâs arms.Â
âAlright, thatâs enough,â Wonwoo gripes, clearly bothered with the way his friend is holding you.Â
âYouâre no fun,â Jeonghan rolls his eyes, before whispering something incoherent in your ear, causing a giggle to erupt from your sweet lips.Â
Jeonghan lets go of you anyway, giving into Wonwooâs sour attitude.Â
âYou guys just got here! Donât tell me youâre going to be grumpy the whole time,â Jeonghan teases.Â
 âIâm not grumpy, you just have grabby hands and I donât need you all over my girlfriend for the rest of the night,â Wonwoo grumbles bitterly, taking ahold of your wrist to pull you closer to him.Â
He sees the way you roll your eyes, but deep down he knows you enjoy how commanding he can become, especially with you.Â
âGirlfriend huh? Thatâs a big word for you,â Jeonghan laughs while raising his eyebrows.Â
âJeonghan!â you gasp, amusement sparkling in your eyes.Â
Wonwoo gives the two of you an irritated look before pulling you away to greet the rest of your friends. You donât protest the way he handles you and he takes note of that. Who knew you could be so pliant, even in social situations?Â
âYou donât have to worry about Jeonghan baby, you know how he is,â you murmur to him, shooting him a reassuring smile.Â
âIâm not worried about him, darling,â he huffs. Jeonghan is the least of his worries.Â
After what happened between you two this morning, Wonwoo canât help but want you all for himself. God forbid you let Seokmin touch you the way he did. The mere thought of it made him feel sick.Â
He understands that he shouldnât have thoughts about you with other people, especially because he knows you havenât dated anyone officially before. But now that youâre his, he has to make sure it stays that way.
âOkay, but still. Just relax, I'm not going anywhere,â you reassure him.Â
Your gentle words and the soft squeeze you give him allow him to chill out a little more. He couldnât help but be on high alert after what Seokmin put you through, after what he put you through.Â
Wonwoo has the constant reminder that youâre both here for a good time, and even though he might not be able to hold himself back once his eyes are set on Seokmin, he continues to obey your wishes.Â
Disappointment proceeds him as he feels you leave his side. Wonwoo lets go of you, allowing you to grab drinks from Jeonghanâs bar. Instead of wandering around like a loner, he sits on the couch, patiently waiting for your return.Â
âHey, Wonwoo? Do you remember me?â a girlâs voice brings him out of his thoughts.Â
Turning to the person who forces themselves into the seat next to him, he frowns at her. She didnât illuminate the room the way you did, and her voice was unpleasant to his ears.Â
âNo. Sorry,â he kept his response curt, not wanting to entertain the faceless stranger who was attempting to flirt with him.Â
âItâs me? Joshâs friend. We met at Seokminâs place last time,â she continued to press, and Wonwoo could feel his ears growing hot with annoyance.Â
âOh, right.â Â
A hand is placed on his shoulder and he flinches away, he doesnât want anyone but you touching him. It almost makes him want to throw up.Â
âI have a girlfriend,â he quips, not wanting to prolong the interaction any longer.Â
The girl beside him cackles, and Wonwoo really canât stand the sound of her voice.Â
âThatâs never stopped me,â her voice lowers an octave in an attempt to sound seductive but Wonwoo feels nothing but repulsed by her very being.Â
He moves further away from her, evidently angry with the way sheâs coming onto him. Cursing at himself inside his mind, he shouldâve never flirted with her to begin with. The puzzle pieces start to slowly align as he remembers that night at Seokminâs place. It was that night that you went home without him, and the realization hit him like a truck.Â
A part of him always wondered what moment had been your breaking point, and there she was, sitting right beside him.Â
âI really donât care,â Wonwoo doesnât spare another glance, escaping her suffocating presence to search for you.Â
Stopping in his tracks, he watches as Seokmin comes up to you, clearly apprehensive as you search Jeonghanâs fridge for a spare Diet Coke. The music is blaring, and the sheer volume of the speakers drowns out Seokminâs voice.Â
He watches as you start to notice that someone is talking to you, trying to get your attention. Wonwoo can see the pained expression in your eyes, and he canât even blame you. Seokmin was your friend before he even met you, and he canât even fathom the pain youâre feeling from losing someone so close to you.Â
Sure, he understands the depth of your relationship with Seokmin, but that doesnât stop the fury that is forcing its way through his veins. Smoke practically comes out of his nose and ears as he watches everything unfold before his very eyes.Â
Seokmin is visibly trying to reason with you, his lips moving at lightning speed as you stand there holding your drink close to your chest. Every bone in Wonwooâs body wants to go up to you and snatch you away as fast as possible. But he canât help but relish in the sight of Seokmin so desperate for your attention. Itâs satisfying to see your reactions morph from sorrow to anger the longer youâre frozen in your place.Â
The second he sees tears beginning to well up in your eyes is the moment Wonwoo finally decides to take action.Â
Marching up to you, he pulls you by the waist until you are glued to him. With a firm hand, he squeezes you tightly, staking his claim in front of Seokmin.Â
âIâm sorrâ,â the words Seokmin so desperately wants to say are cut off by Wonwooâs presence.Â
Wonwooâs lips press into a thin line, gazing down at him with nothing but a look of disgust, and also triumph. Seokmin seems to realize heâs lost because he steps back slowly, shaking his head as his shoulders slouch with defeat.Â
Wonwoo has won, and Seokmin canât do anything to get in his way anymore.Â
âI donât know why you think youâre allowed to talk to her, but you should leave her alone from now on,â Wonwoo seethes, gaze unwavering.Â
âWhatever man,â is all Seokmin can say before retreating into the crowd.Â
Wonwoo turns you slightly, hand placed delicately on your cheek, scanning your features to make sure that youâre alright.Â
âYou okay darling?â he asks, before pecking your lips.Â
âIâm okay. I donât wanna be here anymore, can we go home?â you squeak, your voice faltering.Â
Wonwoo hates to see you affected by someone so unimportant like Seokmin.Â
He doesnât think for another second before agreeing with your request. Bidding Jeonghan farewell while holding tightly onto your hand. Before either of you knew it, you were out the door and on the way back home.Â
The unsavoury moments that happened while at Jeonghanâs place are gone with the wind as Wonwoo speeds down the road and back to your apartment.Â
âThank you for earlier, I was so in shock I couldnât even move or speak,â you mutter, grabbing his palm and placing it on your cheek.Â
Wonwoo feels your warmth and glances at you pouting as you stare out at the empty road.Â
âItâs alright darling, youâre here now, that asshole is not going anywhere near you anymore,â Wonwoo reassures you as he takes your hand in his, giving you a comforting squeeze in an attempt to soothe the thoughts he knows are running through your head.Â
The moment Wonwoo reaches your building, he quickly parks the car before running to the passenger side to open your door. His hand is out in front of him for you to hold while you take a step, doing everything he can to distract you from what happened.
Once the front door of your apartment closes behind him, you turn around with a cheeky smile. It almost gives him whiplash at how quickly your mood changes.Â
âI didnât peg you as the possessive type,â you remark, eyes glinting against the dim lighting of your living room lamp.Â
âI'm not. But itâs different with you, darling,â he admits.Â
Wonwoo rarely felt jealousy in his previous relationships, he knew he was in control either way. Although he knows how much you love him, he still finds himself peeved when someone other than him is close to you. There's a fire within him that he couldnât extinguish, one that only you could put out.Â
âYou gonna give me what you promised earlier,â Wonwooâs voice lowers an octave, crowding your smaller frame.Â
He towers over you while watching the way your eyes shine over with intrigue. The image of you moaning for him is a vision he canât erase from his mind, a vision he wishes he could replay over and over.Â
âDepends. Were you jealous about Seokmin coming up to me?â you press, slender fingers tracing circles into his chest.Â
Your touch felt like a crackling fire under his skin, Wonwooâs thoughts were depleted of anything that could distract his awakening need to ravish you.Â
âI think you know the answer to that already.â
Stepping closer to you, he places both his hands on your waist, pulling you in until youâre flush against him. His breath trails against your skin as he breathes you in, wanting to memorize the sweet notes of your perfume. The smell of lemon blossom and amber engulfs his senses.Â
Amyris Femme. His favourite.Â
You have always known how much he loves the smell of it on you. Itâs simply addictive and intoxicating. Everything about you is always so sweet, from your honeyed eyes to your heavenly voice, the moans you exude dripping in sugar. From head to toe, you are everything Wonwooâs ever wanted to indulge in, wanting to experience the high of you with all seven senses.Â
Heâs convinced that some higher power has sculpted you into everything heâs ever asked for. The universe had known all his preferences, and all his interests and bottled them up into one person. You.Â
You. You. You.Â
His.
 His darling. Â
Cradling your cheek, he presses his lips against yours, truly savouring every brush of skin against yours. Drinking in your sweet scent through his taste and sense of smell. The longer the two of you stand there and make out, the more passionate it becomes.Â
Wonwoo pushes himself against you even further, until heâs sure you can feel his already hardening length grow between you.Â
You own him in so many ways, in ways you probably wouldnât be able to comprehend. From his heart to his very soul, heâs yours. And he wants to show you how much of an effect you have on him. Wonwoo wants to show you how crazy you make him.Â
Taking the lead, Wonwoo doesnât relinquish his hold on you as you two slowly move to your bedroom. Opening the door while he leaves wet kisses up and down your neck with the goal of leaving marks against your delicate skin.Â
âWonwoo,â you sigh, your smaller hands gripping his biceps as he lays you down on the bed.Â
Wonwoo doesnât rush, taking his time to strip you of your clothes. His hands breeze against the bare skin of your stomach, pulling up your top along the way. Eyes zeroing in on the black lace thatâs clad against your breasts, he can feel the drool starting to pool in his mouth.Â
Your skirt is next, and with a hawk eye, he watches the way you lift your hips as he brings down the one thing that's obstructing him from completely devouring you.Â
âPlease, I wanna go faster,â you whine, squirming under his touch.Â
Wonwoo refuses, he needs this moment to seep into his brain until itâs all he can see when his eyes are closed. The desperation emitting from you is almost tangible, but he canât bring himself to waste a precious second.Â
One leg after the other, and finally youâre bare, partially exposed under his body.Â
Ready. Waiting.Â
âI wanna savour you, darling,â Wonwooâs baritone voice reverberates against the four walls that enclose the both of you.Â
You sigh with annoyance and it only intrigues Wonwoo further. He never thought your brattiness would translate to the bedroom. How naive of him to think otherwise. Excitement courses through his veins, imagining all the fun heâs about to have with you.Â
âJust fuck me please, I wanna feel you inside me,â you whisper in his ear, bringing him closer to you.Â
âHoly shit, you canât talk like that or Iâll have to give you what you want.â He groans, hooked on how sexy you sound.Â
The cheeky smile you give him returns, and heâs bewitched by your beautiful features. Fully naked before him except for your bra and panties.Â
Pinning you against the bed, Wonwoo regains control over his thoughts, the same thoughts that are screaming at him to take you in one go. He rebukes those sentiments, he knows what he wants.Â
He knows what you need.Â
âBut I wanna know what itâs like. I know you wanna fuck me, so just do it.âÂ
Wonwoo almost loses his vision with the mere utterance of your words. How much of a nymph do you become once youâre horny? Something about the way you speak is so saccharine, putting him in a trance. You could force him into murdering someone with that tone, and he would do it with a smile on his face.
âYouâre gonna have to try harder than that, baby,â his voice strains, the control he once had starting to lose itself within your lustful gaze.Â
Thinking of ways to stop you from saying anything more, he rips your panties off in one go. Nimble fingers graze against your plush thighs, squeezing and pinching where he can.Â
The whimper you let out is nothing but music to his ears. Seeing you desperate for his touch causes him to focus on his end goal. He wants you to unravel before him, deflowering you till youâre fucked out and panting his name.Â
As he spreads your legs, he canât help but allow his nose to trail against your inner thighs, inhaling the scent of your body emitted under the heat of his touch. He doesnât stop until heâs at the apex of your sex, glasses fogged while the bridge of his nose is rubbing against your skin.Â
Wonwoo finally allows himself to dive in. Ripping the frames off his face, teasing your folds with wet, hot kisses. He repeats his actions till you're moaning deliriously under him.Â
âW-Wonwoo, please, fuck,â you cry out while he watches your hole clenching around nothing.Â
One of the hands that was holding your thighs down moves to your entrance, teasing you before he slowly inserts a finger inside you. Your head hits the pillows while your eyes are screwed shut, and Wonwoo relishes in your pleasure.Â
âGod youâre so fucking tight, so wet,â Wonwoo mutters before licking at your clit.Â
Nothing is more euphoric than hearing you struggle to contain yourself. His boner getting harder to ignore as the juices from your pussy squelch with every thrust of his finger.Â
âIs that what you do when you touch yourself? Using your fingers to fuck this tiny hole?â He asks even though he knows you wonât be able to answer.Â
Youâre too busy twitching from his hands on you, gripping onto the sheets to the point the threads look like theyâre about to tear.Â
Wonwoo takes your silence as an answer before fully engulfing your cunt in his mouth. Practically making out with your pussy lips, he licks and rubs your sensitive heat till you writhe against him.Â
âYou taste so good darling,â he mutters before taking a deep inhale of your musk, âno oneâs ever touched you like this huh?âÂ
âN-no. Just you,â you squeak.Â
âGood girl.âÂ
Hooking your legs over his shoulders, his free hand moves up your body till heâs able to grope at your breasts. The feeling of the lace covering your pert nipples motivates him to make you cum faster.Â
Your body vibrates within his hold while he resumes eating you out. Dipping his tongue into your entrance as his thumb goes to rub your clit in sharp circles. He can feel your abdomen retract from his actions. You're close.Â
Itâs only a matter of time before your juices begin to pour out of your pussy, flooding his mouth with sweet nectar. Wonwoo fully believes he could get drunk from the taste of your cum, the liquid gold dripping down his chin as he slurps and nips at your puffy bundle of nerves.Â
âThis pussy is mine,â he concludes, slapping your dripping core.Â
Eyes drunk with lust, he smiles up at you. A smirk filled with pride as youâre left twitching against the mattress. Hair displaced against the pillowcases, skin glistening under the nebulous light of your lamp.Â
Your room is filled with the aroma of sex and sweat, your chest heaving up and down as you come down from your high. Wonwooâs length straining against his pants, he canât neglect his need to fuck you for any second longer.Â
Laying there, winded from your orgasm, he lets you watch him as he removes the clothes covering his body until thereâs nothing left. Wonwooâs abs and muscular arms flex as he releases himself from his tight pants. He clasps his palm around his cock, rubbing himself while staring down at your fucked out state. Grunts erupt from his throat while he rubs the bead of pre cum dripping down his tip.Â
You stare at him, eyes lidded, before sitting up to take off your last piece of clothing. Your breasts bounce as you release them from the confines of your bra. The tip of your fingers graze your nipples, playing with them while Wonwoo stands over you, stroking himself.Â
Heâs so in deep, itâs the first time in a long time that heâs felt like heâs about to combust in seconds. He hasnât even been inside of you yet, but he knows he could cum untouched at just the sight of you playing with yourself in front of him.Â
âWill you fuck me now? Wanna feel you cum inside me,â you plead with doe eyes, your other hand coming down to your heat.Â
He watches you insert a finger in yourself, pumping in and out, matching the rhythm of his movements.Â
Before you can let out another sound of delight, Wonwoo halts whatever heâs doing to flip you around. With you on your stomach, he focuses all his attention on your plump ass. Groping you with rough palms, and your hips fly off the bed to give him better access.Â
Retracting his hand, he comes down to you even harder. The slap on your skin echoes throughout your room. You squeak but he can see the juices starting to gush out of your pussy.Â
Fuck, Wownoo is obsessed. Obsessed with your neediness, obsessed with the way your ass jiggles with every strike he lands on you. He simply canât wait to be inside you, engulfed in the heat of your tight walls.Â
âHngh, Wonwoo!â you almost scream, your voice becoming nasally every time he hits you.Â
The hand marks on your soft skin drive him crazy, and he knows that if he doesnât fuck you soon, heâll cum prematurely.Â
âWhat a needy little thing. You want it that bad huh?â he taunts, spreading your ass cheeks, watching the wetness drip down to your thighs.Â
âPlease, take me please,â you continue to beg, your voice level as you stare at him over your shoulder.Â
Your hips cant back and forth, waving your tight pussy in front of him. Enticing him to fuck you.Â
âYouâre a fucking brat, you know that?â Wonwoo grunts, slapping your sopping hole.Â
Jerking forward, you let out a salacious moan, eyebrows furrowing as you slump back down onto the bed.Â
âIâm being so patient, baby. Just stick your cock in me please,â you fuss, lifting your hips again.Â
Wonwoo sighs, turning you over once again so youâre on your back.Â
âYouâre lucky I love you,â he grunts, grabbing your legs and pulling you towards him.Â
Sitting on his haunches, he spreads you out, getting the perfect view of your glistening entrance. Taking his dick in his hand, he rubs the tip against your folds. You match his thrusts, moving up as he envelopes the underside of his length between your soaking lips. The sounds emitting from your bodies connecting is sinful and Wonwooâs jaw goes slack, finally feeling your heat against his manhood.Â
âGod, this pussy.âÂ
âWonwoo, fuck me,â you whimper, grabbing his biceps to pull him against you.Â
Engulfing you into a heated kiss, he continues to slide his cock along your slit. The sheer wetness of your pussy lubricates him enough to move with a rushed pace. Heâs not even inside you yet and heâs already starting to feel that knot form in his lower stomach.Â
âYou gonna be a good girl? Show me how bad you want this cock inside you?â he whispers, lips brushing along your own.Â
âYes. fuck yes,â you pant breathlessly.Â
Slotting his arm between the two of you, he finally aligns his length with your entrance. He can feel you trying to get him inside you, thrusting up slightly to try and catch the tip so it pushes into your awaiting heat.Â
But before you can get away with your tricks, he slaps your thighs. Wonwooâs large hand presses you down firmly before you can get any further.Â
âLiar. You said you were gonna be a good girl,â he spits, âdonât get impatient or I'm gonna leave you lying here without cumming again.âÂ
You pout at his words. Your cheeks are hot, and your eyes are teary. The things you make him feel, itâs unmatched.Â
âGonna breed this little cunt till you're stuffed full,â he groans, finally inserting his dick inside your heat.Â
The gasp you let out is high-pitched. And Wonwooâs head falls against the space within the dip of your shoulder. His hands are firm against your waist, thrusting into you until heâs fully sheathed in your pussy. Being inside you was like dipping into molten lava, the heat of your cunt enveloping him with such a tight grip he almost faints upon entering you. Â
âHow are you so tight?â Wonwoo curses. âYou feel so good, baby.âÂ
He didnât expect you to be gripping his cock like this. Itâs like nothing heâs ever felt before. Your pussy is made for him with how snugly he fits inside you.Â
âItâs so big, fuck!â you moan, breathing heavily.Â
Wonwoo doesnât give you enough time to adjust to his length, even though he should. Blinded by searing hot pleasure, he begins to pound in and out of you. Skin slapping as his thrusts become erratic. With eyes rolling to the back of your head, you pull at his strands of hair and he groans at the pain that mixes with the high your cunt gives him.Â
At that moment, Wonwoo concludes that he doesnât want anyone but you. For as long as he can, he wants to be the only one to fuck you, to give you orgasm after orgasm. Until you're spent and in and out of consciousness, he wants to be the only one who can make you feel this way.Â
As if a curse is placed on him, your phone buzzes against your nightstand. Seokminâs contact is on clear display for both of you to see. Wonwoo ceases his movements, sitting up and grabbing your phone from the nightstand.Â
âAnswer it,â he speaks firmly.Â
âWhat?âÂ
âYou heard me. Answer it and show him Iâm the only one who can make you feel this good.âÂ
Thereâs a flash of panic in your eyes, but Wonwoo knows youâll obey his wishes anyway. He knows how deeply youâve fallen for him. You canât refuse him despite the compromising circumstances, and heâll continue to use it to his advantage.Â
Length still buried to the hilt inside you, you swipe at your phone to answer. Wonwoo presses the speaker button before resuming his rushed pace. Bullying your hole while you attempt to at least seem coherent enough to answer Seokmin.Â
âSeokmin?â You whisper, trying your best to conceal the moans that are threatening to slip past your lips.Â
âHey. I just wanted to call and say sorry about earlier. That was stupid of meâ,â Seokmin attempts to get his apology in but heâs cut off by your moans.Â
Wonwoo slaps your clit while thrusting inside you, his length enveloped in your velvety walls.Â
âYou okay?â Seokmin asks you, and Wonwooâs satisfied by the scene in front of him.Â
Youâre flustered and trying your best not to reveal that youâre being fucked hard by your boyfriend, while your ex-friend is trying to reconnect with you. Key word, trying.Â
âTell him you donât want to ever see him again,â Wonwoo grunts out as he continues to fill you up deliciously, thrusting inside you hard enough that Seokmin could probably hear it over the phone.Â
âFuck! Wonwoo! âM sorry Seokmin, but I donât want you to talk to me anymore. Please, donât contact me again.â Whimpers escape your lips and Seokmin stutters over the speaker.Â
Wonwoo knows that Seokmin is aware of whatâs happening on your side of the phone call. The line goes dead the moment you utter your last words to him.Â
âBet you liked that huh? You like it when I show everyone that youâre mine?â Wonwoo emphasizes while he continues to push past your entrance.Â
âYes. Shit,â you mewl out, clenching your walls against his thick cock.Â
The ridges of your pussy massage Wonwoo in the most perfect way. Throwing his head back the slightest bit, he watches how his dick moves in and out of you. The creamy ring of your mixed juices pooling at the end of his hardness only arouses him further.Â
âYou gonna let me cum inside you?â Wonwoo questions, not to ask, but to make sure youâre prepared to feel his seed seeping into you.Â
âMhm. I wanna feel you fill me up,â you let out a breathy moan.Â
Tossing you onto your stomach, Wonwoo pulls out and grapples you into the position he wants you in. Clutching onto your hips, he sits on his heels while forcing you onto his thighs. Your back against his chest, head lazing back onto his shoulder while Wonwooâs muscular bicep wraps around your neck, placing you into a headlock.Â
Entering your abused cunt once again, he assaults your pussy with enough force and strength to send you into another dimension. Wonwoo bounces you on his cock and youâre screaming his name at this point. His balls slap against your ass cheeks, while the juices from your hole drip down and onto his thighs.Â
âI-Iâm gonna cum,â you wail, your walls spasming.Â
Wonwoo's balls retract while your pussy pulsates, your cum coating his dick. He pumps into you one more time until his sticky release fills your walls. The flood of semen overflowing while his red tip kisses your cervix, holding you firmly in place as he continues to cum inside you.Â
âHmph, itâs so good. Your cock feels so good,â your words are slurred as Wonwoo releases you from the headlock.Â
Body slumping over, you push your ass in the air, giving Wonwoo the most delectable view of his cum overflowing past the lips of your bruised cunt. The thick white substance comes out in globs as you lay down with your legs spread.Â
Wonwoo can feel the twitch in his cock, almost coming back to life as he watches your little pussy push out his cum.Â
âYou were so good darling, so good for me,â he mutters, kissing your temple as you lay there spent and exhausted.Â
âFucking love you and your big cock,â you mutter, turning around to kiss him passionately.Â
Pride blooms within his chest, knowing he was your first. The elation Wonwoo feels is comparable to when you confessed your love for him.Â
Heâs finally won. Youâre his, and he canât wait to show you how much he loves you every chance he gets. Not only by fucking your brains out but also with dates and random acts of affection. He canât wait to show you off, to let the world know that youâre his best friend and girlfriend.Â
âGonna clean you up okay? Then we can take a shower,â he imparts, wrapping you up in your blankets so you donât get cold.Â
âWonwoo?âÂ
âYes, baby?âÂ
âI love you,â you call out, smiling at him lazily, your eyes tired but full of fondness.Â
âI love you, too.âÂ
âŚ
Wonwoo woke up that morning feeling refreshed. The sunlight beaming down on him through your curtains. Your nude body is pressing into him. He loves how he can observe you so closely, taking note of every line and freckle on your skin. The rays of the sun hit you, causing your skin to glow beautifully. Your breath steady as you sleep peacefully, curled against his side.Â
Wonwoo doesnât know how long he was lying there admiring you and how gorgeous you are, but his excitement spiked when you began to stir.Â
âGood morning darling,â he whispers wistfully in your ear.Â
The smile that tugs along your lips makes his heart flutter, and he swears heâs never felt this whole in so long. He canât remember the last time he felt happiness in its true form. The closest thing that made him experience this type of joy was that night in his bedroom watching NANA with you when you two were still in high school.Â
âMorning,â your voice is sickly sweet, enough to have him grinning at such early hours in the day.Â
Shifting from your spot, you prop yourself up using your forearms, hair moves swiftly with your movements.
âSleep well?âÂ
Thereâs a shy smile on your face, eyes twinkling with the sunlight, and Wonwoo can only presume that it was you recollecting the memories of last night.Â
âThe best,â you mumble, leaning in to peck his lips.Â
What was meant to be an innocent peck turns into something more heated. Wonwoo grabs you so youâre sitting on his lap, a squeak erupting from your throat as he manhandles you.Â
âWonwoo!â you yelp, slapping his bare chest.Â
He doesnât respond to your dumbstruck reaction, instead, he continues to kiss you, harder than before. That morning he woke up a victim to morning wood, and the only way he could even fathom relieving himself was to fuck you senseless.Â
The angle he has you in is sinful, your bare cunt rubbing against his length, his hands firm on your hips, rubbing your folds against the underside of his cock.Â
Your head is thrown back, submitting to the pleasure that Wonwoo continues to give you. Removing his hands, he lets you move on your own accord while he focuses on your breasts. His large hands squeeze the flesh, pinching your nipples till your eyebrows are strewn tight.Â
âOh fuckâŚ,â your voice trails, your head coming down, entranced by how Wonwooâs hardness slides between your pussy lips.Â
Wonwoo groans, trying his best not to cum from how wet youâve become from a little bit of foreplay. It almost feels like heâs still dreaming, watching your hips sway against him. The fuzzy feeling in his brain doesnât cease, the same fuzziness he felt last night while you were under him, screaming his name.Â
âYou like that, huh?â He mutters against your skin, trailing kisses all over your chest.Â
The same hands that were fondling your round breasts come down to your ass, lifting you. There is a whine that leaves you, and Wonwoo can feel your disappointment from the loss of contact.Â
The whine you let out dies quickly as Wonwoo forces you down on his erect cock, pushing your hips till youâve fit the whole thing inside you. The breath is knocked out of his throat as your warm walls welcome him back into your heat. Being inside you is life-changing, his hand dull in comparison to the feeling your tight hole gives him.Â
âSo big,â is all you can say.Â
âWanna see you ride me, baby,â he breathes out, trying to centre himself so he doesnât spurt his cum inside you before you even get to move.Â
Your fingers dig into the skin on his shoulders, and slowly, you lift yourself off him before slamming back down. Wonwoo grunts at your speed, not expecting you to use so much force.Â
âShit. Slow down darling,â he sputters, trying to control the way you're bouncing furiously on him.Â
âI donât wanna, it feels too good,â you pout, staring down at him with the most lewd expression.Â
Your jaw goes slack, panting for him like a dog in heat. He can feel your walls clench with each stride you take and the words he had on the tip of his tongue evaporate into thin air. He knows if he allows you to continue he wonât be able to savour you on top of him.Â
Instead of flipping you on your back, Wonwooâs arms wrap around you, bringing you close to his chest. His feet are planted firmly against the mattress, he holds you tightly before fucking up into your delicious cunt.Â
âThis pussy is fucking mine,â he growls, emphasizing his words with each thrust.Â
âBaby, I-I canât, I wanna cum,â you sob, tears of pleasure running down your cheeks.Â
âCum for me darling, give it to me,â and as if on command, you do exactly that.Â
Wonwooâs palms drift to your ass, spreading your cheeks, squeezing them tight as he forces you to match his pace. Almost blinded by the sheer pleasure, he pumps into you a few more times before his semen floods your insides, thick and warm, it mixes with the nectar dripping from your heat. As he releases, he keeps his hands firmly on your waist, plugging you to ensure none of his cum spills out.Â
The two of you lay like that for a while, catching your breath after Wonwoo had fucked your brains out. Again. In all honesty, heâs convinced that heâll never get tired of fucking you.Â
âI donât think Iâll be able to walk tomorrow,â you sigh, voice muffled as you rest along the slope of his shoulder.Â
âSo we canât go again?â Wonwoo asks, feigning innocence, âHey! Ow!âÂ
The playful slap you give him on his bicep stings as he chuckles at your wordless response.Â
âNo more,â you refuse his request.Â
âOh, Wonwoo! Youâre so big!â he imitates your voice from earlier, teasing you until you beg him to stop.Â
Propping yourself up, his flaccid cock slips out of you, the cum spilling onto his abdomen.Â
âYou fucker!â you hit his chest again and Wonwoo erupts into a fit of laughter.Â
âOh baby, this pussy is mine.â Your voice lowered in multiple octaves, copying the words he spoke out of lust, âNot so funny now, is it?âÂ
Wonwoo continues to crack up at your embarrassed state, eyes turning to slits as he tries to calm himself down.Â
âActually, itâs pretty funny,â he attests, grabbing your chin to kiss your cheek.Â
âFine. I wonât say anything while weâre doing it anymore.â You complain, but he knows you secretly love it.Â
Wonwoo quirks an eyebrow up at you, in love with your playful side. Still sitting on his lap naked while youâre bickering with him is just as hot as you riding him with your boobs in his face.Â
âThat wouldnât stop me,â he shrugs, pretending to act nonchalant.Â
The best part of fucking you is how vocal you are, and it drives him insane.Â
âWhatever you horny loser,â you roll your eyes.Â
Grabbing your arms he pulls you down against him again, kissing your neck, and he can feel you relax under his touch.Â
âSays the one who has a massive dildo in their drawer,â he whispers in your ear before falling back onto the mattress, chuckling at your dumbfounded state.Â
âIâve already told you! It was a gift from June and it's unused,â you huff, emphasizing the word unused.Â
âSure it is,â he drawls, not convinced.Â
âI'm serious! I literally took it out of the box before beating you with it.âÂ
âWhatever you say, darling,â he snickers before enveloping you in his arms, âletâs use it next time, yeah?âÂ
For the rest of the day, you both lay there, talking about the most random things after a long but steamy shower. With fresh sheets on the bed, the atmosphere is filled with nothing but warmth and utter joy.Â
This past month or two has been a whirlwind of realizations. Realizations that have shifted the world around him into something beautiful. If someone had told him at the beginning of the school year that he would find a new meaning of love in you, he wouldâve laughed with disbelief. But now that youâre here, sitting beside him with the most angelic smile on your face, he recognizes just how much comfort a single person can bring. Not even the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore while he visited his hometown could outweigh the feeling of tranquillity that he got when he was with you.
Even though he regrets not confronting his feelings for you sooner, he canât find a reason to complain. Everything had fallen into place, and for the first time since he was seventeen, he realized that the one person he was searching for was in front of him this whole time.Â
epilogue.Â
freshman year of university.Â
[8:56 p.m.]Â [you: raval tonite w junepi and the others?]Â [wons <3: yeah but can we leave early? i wanna play league after :)]Â [you: is this u tryna get out of drinking by being my dd?]Â [wons <3: maybe] [you: fineee but we leave at 12] [wons <3: anything for u darling]Â [you: darling?]Â [wons <3: u like it?]Â [you: yes!! its cute hehe]Â [wonwoo has changed your nickname to âdarling <3â]Â
the end.
âš a/n: thank you for reading this story! this thing is my baby and i would love to hear your thoughts :) i appreciate everyone who took their time reading it because i poured my whole heart into it :") thank you again and see you in the next fic ⥠please rmbr to reblog and share your thoughts :3 it motivates me to continue writing stories like these for u âĄ
#lola's recs <3#i couldn't finish yesterday bcuz i was bawling my eyes out lol#literally had to calm myself down before i read it again#anna#i love you so much#and thank you for writing and sharing this#<33
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his smile captured you. it was warmâŚfamiliar, and for whatever reason, looked like it was hiding something.
pt. 1
his eyesâthe kind that seem to have seen all the world has to offer: the good, the bad, the uglyâhold yours for a moment longer than expected. itâs like youâve momentarily caught a glimpse of something deeper, something that shouldnât be there but is, anyway. eren shifts slightly, the smallest movement, just enough to let his otherwise perfect poker face falter.
damn, thatâs a hell of a poker face.
ânot much to say, really. iâm honestly pretty boring,â he mutters, almost dismissively, before continuing with a few generic answers to the questions you ask, as if heâs running through a script. as time passes, though, you notice heâs starting to loosen up, just a littleâhis words become less clipped, his tone more relaxed. but his guard? still firmly in place. always.
when his gaze shifts toward you, it lingers for a split second longer than necessaryâjust long enough for you to catch the subtle shift in his expression. his lips curl up at the corner, his eyes flicking down your body before returning to your face. itâs quick, almost imperceptible, but it makes your cheeks flush before you can stop it. you glance at your phone, pretending you didnât notice, but in reality, youâre keenly aware of the notifications lighting up your screenâmissed calls, messages from your friends checking in, wondering if youâre okay.
you snap your phone shut again, the cool glass meeting your palm with a soft thud. the time catches your eye, and you canât help but frown. âitâs getting late, isnât it? wouldnât want the restaurant to kick us out.â
the words are meant to be light, casual, but you canât stop the tiniest pang of disappointment from creeping into your voice. before you can disguise it, your lips curve downward into a reluctant pout.
eren catches it, and his eyes soften. âhey, donât look like that, pretty girl. i had a good time too. if i didnât have business to handle in the morning, i wouldâve shown you an even better time...â he trails off, his cheeks flushing just a shade darker, and you realizeâheâs drunk.
how cute.
you canât help but laugh softly, rolling your eyes playfully at his tipsy rambling. âyeah, yeah. letâs get you home, princess.â
despite your protests, he insists on paying your bill and escorts you outside. you pull up your uber app, already halfway through ordering the ride when eren steps off to the side to take a call. as soon as his conversation wraps up, heâs back by your side, and youâre hit with the sudden realization of just how much youâve had to drink. the cool night air feels like a relief against your flushed skin, and the silence between you two feels strangely comfortable.
you glance over at him, noticing the way the moonlight paints his featuresâsharp jawline, tousled hair, the way his eyes glint, like theyâre holding something back, something you canât quite place. you watch him for a second too long, and he catches your gaze, his lips curling into a playful smirk.
âdonât look too long, pretty,â he warns, his voice low and teasing. âyou might fall in love.â
that smileâGod, it could light up the night sky. you swallow hard, your heart giving an unexpected flutter, and before you know it, your hands are already reaching out to him, instinctively placing them on his chest. the air between you both seems to thicken as you lean in, drawn to him in a way you canât explain.
it feels like an eternity of suspended longing before he finally meets you halfway. the space between your lips is almost unbearable, but when your noses brush just slightly, and then his lips meet yours, itâs like a gentle wave, soft and fleeting. itâs so tender, you almost think you imagined it.
but then, with his hands finding your hips, he pulls you in just a little closer. his kiss deepens, and the heat rises in your chest. still, thereâs hesitationâhe pulls back, just slightly, his eyes glinting with something unreadable.
âi think your ride is here, mama,â he mutters softly, a trace of regret in his voice.
you turn to look, your heart sinking a little at the sight of the waiting uber. "a-and you're sure you don't wanna come?" you try again, a quiet, uncertain edge in your voice. âitâs the least i could do since you helped me out earlier.â
he lets out a breath, his gaze flickering with internal conflict. for a moment, it looks like he might change his mind, but then he shakes his head slightly, his lips curving into a wry smile. âi donât think iâd be able to hold myself back.â
the disappointment in your chest sharpens, but you nod, whispering a quiet "okay" as you step back toward the uber. he holds the door open for you, the gesture so simple, but somehow it feels like the end of something unspoken.
"thanks again," you murmur, one last time, before the door clicks shut behind you.
through the tinted glass, you catch eren's lips movingâprobably saying something you can't quite catch. his words are muffled, but his gaze holds steady, like a silent goodbye thatâs somehow heavier than it should be. the uber pulls away, and you can't help but wonder if that was the last time you'd see him... or if that was only the beginning of something youâre not sure youâre ready for.
#aot#eren aot#aot x reader#aot fanfiction#aot x y/n#aot x black reader#aot x black y/n#aot x you#fat reader#chubby reader#eren x y/n#reader x eren#eren x you#erenville#eren yeager#eren jeager x reader#eren x black fem!reader#eren x reader#eren jaeger#eren x chubby reader#eren fanfiction#eren yaeger x reader#eren yaeger aot#eren yaegar#eren yaeger imagine#eren yaeger x black y/n#tw alcohol#iâve decided this will be a series#thank you for the support#kisses!
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RESTART
My submission for an angst event, and I'm gunning for the win /j
For real though, had a lot of fun writing this! It's based on my promptober day 29 response, though you don't have to read it to get the jist, hope you enjoy!
Word count: 2,998
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You double check that there's no one around, and sit back down on the box you were previously moping on. In particular, backstage. Sun wasn't likely to look for you here, not liking to leave the Daycare and all that. Though, he had been getting more comfortable with it lately, which meant you'd have to start finding more hiding places.Â
You stare down at your hand, you'd come to accept it as that now. It works just like your original, it flexes, bends, grips just the same. It's just pure white, and completely mechanical now.Â
The rest of your body functions relatively similar to how it did before, too. At least, you think it does. You'd like to say it's because you've lost track of time since the incident that you can't tell. In reality, you know it's been seven months, 19 days, 21 hours, and 7, 8, 9-god, you still struggle with getting that to quit.Â
No, it's just that you've been like this so long, you don't know what it feels like to be human anymore. Your thoughts are still human, that much you're sure of. Sun doesn't think like you do, from what you understand. He doesn't like to talk about it much, he doesn't like to talk about what happened at all, frankly.Â
You get it, he feels ashamed, blames himself for it. But still, you don't think it's fair that you can't even acknowledge how much has changed. Your entire life is here now. You can't never leave the Plex, never go home again. You're stuck here, forever, it seems.Â
You want to say that you tried harder to find a way to, fix this? move past it? you don't know. But you didn't. You didn't try to contact your friends, your family, anyone. You just, accepted it. What choice did you have? Besides, as far as you knew, nobody seemed to notice you were missing, so you guess it wouldn't have mattered in the first place.
You sigh, and then laugh at the sound. Your voice is hardly still your own, the metallic ring always noticeable to you despite your best efforts to ignore it.Â
To Sun's credit, he had tried his best to make this entire ordeal as comfortable for you as possible.Â
No Moon, that much had been established. You think he was also afraid of what the naptime attendant was capable of, if he could so effortlessly kill murder destroy harm you, without a second thought. Though, you were surprised to find that Moon did avoid you when the lights went out from time to time-not nearly as often as before, you're still trying to determine how Sun managed that one-not even sparing a passing glance.Â
Additionally, you had your own space, in their room, that is. Still, you treasured the area where you could put a bed, books, and other such items that you no longer had a need for-but they helped. They helped.Â
And, while reluctant, Sun allowed you time to yourself when you needed it. You could tell that despite all your reassurances, and the amount of time that had passed, he was still concerned about you potentially, having a glitch, as he called it. You called what happened when you first woke up like this a psychotic break, but you digress.Â
Regardless, if you weren't running errands, or helping out in the Daycare, you typically chose to be by yourself. Far away from the place. You could tell it upset him, but to be honest, it was hard to be in there 24/7, you don't know how he did it.Â
Besides the obvious fact of the matter that you'd died there, it was just too much. He was just too much.Â
The music, the noise, kids running around, screaming, crying. Now that you were a bot, they didn't treat you nearly as nicely. You got beat up on, a lot. More than once having to have Sun patch you up or repair you after a long day.Â
And Sun. You, at one point, you think you had loved him. Loved Moon. But that had been a long time ago now. Before this.Â
And it wasn't even that you couldn't feel the emotion anymore, or hell, even because of what happened.Â
You just, you'd grown hollow. Maybe it was because seeing each other all day every single day got to you. Maybe it was because of his constant attempts to get you to engage, doing crafts together, watching movies together, playing games together. Even a few times where you went out in the Plex on these little 'dates' because that's what they were, no need to pretend.Â
Maybe that's what it was, all this, pretending. He always just wanted to move on, have everything okay without putting the effort into making it okay.Â
You don't know anymore. But what's new?
You lean back against the wall, eyes closing. Even like this, you still have that damn interface pulled up, unavoidable with its synoptics of your system.Â
You see there's a notification in your messages. Opening it, you're unsurprised to find it's one from Sun.Â
'Starshine! You've been gone for a bit now, everything alright?'
You answer shortly after reading, 'Fine. Just taking some quiet time.
Doing that meditation thing you suggested.' An obvious lie to you, but he buys it. He always does.Â
'Oh! I'll leave you be then. I knew it would be just the thing to help :)'
You scoff, opening your eyes and shaking your head. Resentful. You've grown resentful. And that, that makes you feel ashamed more than anything.Â
You send back a quick reply, ':)'
It wasn't his fault. You know it wasn't. You called it 'the incident' but you truly don't believe it had been intentional. Though any attempts at an explanation were shut down immediately. And not in the same, nervous way every other similar discussion was. This was a firm 'No' with no exceptions.Â
Whatever had happened to Moon to cause him to act that way, it seemed to scare Sun badly enough that he'd even snapped at you one time.Â
"Sunshine, I won't tell you again," Sun warns, "We're not talking about it. It doesn't matter. Moon is fine. Okay?" He shakes his head, "He's just, not feeling so well these days. But I have it under control, do you understand?"
You'd been taken aback by his tone. Too, shocked, and honestly a bit frightened, that he'd lashed out at you like that to say anything.Â
He sighs, coming over to where you stand. He hesitates to put his hands on your shoulders when you flinch, and instead clasps them in front of him.Â
"I don't mean to sound harsh, Love, but it's for the best if we just drop it. Please."
You find yourself nodding, muttering a quiet "Okay."
"I'm sorry," This time he does initiate contact, pulling you into a tight hug. He doesn't tower over you quite as much now, so it's not as awkward as it used to be.Â
"You know I love you, right?" He asks in the quiet, voice low.Â
You hum, "I know."
He seems to be waiting. If you still could do so, you'd be biting your cheek to steel yourself.Â
"I love you too," You say after a moment or so.Â
Sun pulls back, and leans down. Your faces touch and there's a brief, soft, static between the two of you until he stops kissing you.Â
"I mean it. I love you. More than you know."
Even though you can't return the feeling, you didn't doubt that he meant it.Â
The memory replay is interrupted when you hear voices off in the distance.
That was another thing about this new body of yours, all of your senses were heightened to a degree that was borderline uncomfortable.
You double check your location is undetectable-something Bonnie had taught you early on-and listen in. You weren't a snoop, but sometimes you needed help passing the time. And this was one such example.Â
"I just don't know what else to do, Freddy," Sun's voice, you'd know it anywhere, "I've tried everything! I don't know what it will take for things to just..."
Freddy's tone is soft, encouraging, "Just what, Sun?"
"Go back to normal? I, I know it can't be like it was, then, before, but, but surely I can get their old self to shine through again, right?"
You realize they're getting closer to your spot. Shit. You need to hide.Â
Quickly, you duck behind another stack of crates, pressing yourself snugly behind them.Â
Just in time for Freddy's voice to become clearer as they walk backstage, "I'm afraid it's not that simple, my friend. You still haven't told them the full story, have you?"
You peek just slightly out from your hiding spot, able to just see the two bots standing not far from you.
"N-no. But, I'm going to! I swear I will. I just, I need more time," Sun's hands grip his rays, "I have to win them over again first. That way, that way it won't hurt as much."
Freddy seems to want to say something, but doesn't.Â
Instead he puts a hand on the taller bot's shoulder and smiles, "I know you'll do the right thing, Sun. Now, I believe Monty has challenged Roxy to an arm wrestling contest, would you like to join?"
"I would! But, I'm afraid I lack the skills nor the strength to participate myself."
They walk off then, chatting happily, but the conversation sticks with you. What did Freddy mean by full story? What did he know that you didn't about your own, demise.Â
A message pops up in the corner of your vison. You expect it to be from Sun, inviting you to watch the match.Â
It's from Moon.
You're... more than just surprised. You hesitate, but end up opening it.Â
'I can tell you the truth.
If you'd like.'
You panic, you swore your location had been off, you know it had.Â
You play dumb, '?
What are you talking about?'
'I wasn't with him, I just happened to notice your signal in the system coincidentally at the same time.
He doesn't know you were there, if you're worried about it.'
'How can you do that?'
'Does it matter?
Do you want to know or not?'
'I shouldn't even be talking to you. I don't want to be talking to you.'
'Aw, still upset are we?
I don't blame you, but I think once you have the full picture, that may change.'
You don't answer, sitting back and looking up to the ceiling. You're debating. You want nothing to do with Moon, especially because he doesn't even seem the least bit remorseful, which, hurts more than you'd care to admit, but still. You do want to know what happened. You want the truth.Â
And god do you want someone to talk to. Really talk to. About your death, and just in general.
'Fine. Tell me.'
'Not like this. Later. When he's busy.'Â
'He's not busy now?'
'When I'm in control.'
'Why? What's that have to do with anything?'
'It's more fun that way.'
Seems despite everything, he's still got that same cheeky personality.Â
'Alright. Give me and time and a place and I'll be there.'
Once that's sorted, you exit your hiding space, going to join in the festivities briefly with the other bots. You'd say it was difficult to pretend everything was fine, but that'd just be lying in and of itself. You try to have fun, at least. Afterall, as far as you can tell it's only Sun and Freddy hiding things from you.Â
Right?
When the lights go out in the Daycare, Moon doesn't approach you immediately. Instead, he heads out for his usual patrol. About ten minutes later, you receive a message.Â
'Catwalks above Monty Golf.'
You take that as your cue, and head that way. Upon arrival, you spy Moon juggling several golf balls to amuse himself. When he sees you he stops, catching them one by one.Â
Something stirs in you, and you clap. He seems surprised at this, but bows anyway. The moment takes you back to-you shake your head, everything is different now, and dwelling on the past won't change that.Â
"Alright, let's hear it," You keep your distance, leaning against the railing out of his reach.Â
You don't think he'd hurt you, but you'd thought that back then, too.Â
Moon notices your choice it seems, and chuckles, "I don't bite, Star."
You stay firm, his eyes narrow at this.Â
"It's better to show you than it is to say, and for that, you need to come closer."
"And if I don't?" You cross your arms.
He tsks, "Then you won't get the full story. And that's what you want, isn't it?"
You pause.Â
"I won't harm you. Not this time. I promise."
You scoff then, "You've made a lot of promises, Moon-man," You curse yourself for letting the nickname slip, "What proof do I have that you'll keep this one?"
"You don't. But he's also made promises, don't you want to know which one's he's kept?"
If you could, you'd be biting your lip right now.Â
"He has everything to gain from lying to you. I do not," He holds out his hand, "What's your choice?"
You consider your options, but you'd already made your choice before showing up here.Â
You take his offer, hand resting on top of his, "You break this trust, and you'll regret it."
His hand grips yours and you're suddenly spun around and then lowered into a dip, Moon's other hand on your back to secure you.
"I wouldn't dream of it," He leans in, and as he grows closer you swear there's a flash of purple in his optics, "Now hold still, and watch."
Your vison glitches, and you're no longer on the catwalks. Instead, you're standing in the hallway outside the Attendants' room. Inside, you hear an argument occurring.Â
Before you can do anything else, a hand rests on your shoulder. You glance up to see Moon. He puts a finger to his smile, then leans over you and cracks the door slightly.Â
Inside, you can see Sun pacing back and forth, and another Moon? Sitting on the dresser. One leg swinging back and forth as he watches the fretting playtime attendant. You take note that there's, an air of static around him. Causing a hazy effect around his entire, otherwise relaxed, form.Â
"What do we do, what do we do?" He asks, hands gripping his rays, "They're leaving, they're leaving and they're never going to come back."
Other Moon rests his head in his hand, "They just mentioned potentially moving divisions. It's not for certain, and they'd still be around even if that was the case."
"But they want to go, Moonie. They'd rather a different job than working with us. Do they hate us that much?"
A shrug, "I thought the kisses I got the other night proved otherwise, but maybe I'm misinterpreting."
Sun makes a noise of frustration, "You're no help with anything anymore! Ever since you-"
"Ever since what?" Moon growls, and his visage grows darker, the entire room darkening and glitching.
Sun cowers, putting his hands up and things return to normal, "Since you're, upgrade, you've been, less than supportive, to put it plainly."
Another shrug, Sun goes back to pacing. At that moment, other Moon seems to notice you and waves cheekily, but says nothing.Â
His counterpart suddenly stops his movement.Â
"What if, what if they, couldn't, leave?"
"You're going to make them stay in a job they hate?" Moon tsks, "How selfish, Sunny."
"Yes, but no, I-" Sun hesitates, really, hesitates.Â
This piques other Moon's interest, he sits up a bit, "Go on then, I'm on the edge of my seat."
"What if, what if something happened to them, that made it so they had to stay... Forever?"
Moon pauses, then chuckles, "You're not suggesting what I think you are, are you, Sun?"
"It's for the best," Sun argues, seemingly mostly with himself, "They're not thinking straight. This would, this would help. And then, we'd never have to worry about them leaving ever again."
Moon stands, walking over and putting a hand on the playtime attendant's shoulder, "You can't take this back, you know. There's no do-overs, no fixing things. This is final."
"I know," Sun nods, "And you can, take care of it?"
The edges of the room shift again as Moon snickers, "Can't do your own dirty work, Sunny?"
"You say that as if it doesn't benefit both of us," He mutters.Â
"It won't. Not for a while. You can't change their memories, they'll know what happened. It's just the cause that will be, murky."
Sun shakes his head, "They'll never know. I'll make certain of it."
"Are you sure about that?" Other Moon asks, and points to the door where you stand, partially visible.Â
Sun's eyes widen, and the world around you starts to crumble.Â
With a gasp, you find yourself back on the catwalks, stumbling away from Moon.Â
You're shaking, and your system starts sending warning signs of an overload.Â
You hear a click.Â
Looking up, you see that Moon's reached over to a nearby switch, and the light's start to come on one by one.Â
"Good luck~" He snickers, bowing one final time as rays start to pop out from his faceplate.Â
Sun's face snaps to yours, immediately starting to walk towards you, hands up, "Starlight, you have to listen to me-"
You can't. You won't. And you don't get a further choice in the matter, either.Â
In your haste to get away, you stumble back against the railing. And panicking, trip, and tip backwards. Sun reaches out for you, but it's too late, you're falling. You're about to go through so much pain all over again, and all you can think, the only word you can see, is 'LIAR'.
LIAR. LIAR. LIAR.
âď¸đâď¸đâď¸đâď¸đâď¸đâď¸đâď¸đâď¸đ
Aw, what a fun twist! Oh, but bummer for you though, yikes, sorry about that one :/ Anywho, thanks for reading!
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If you want to be added to the tag list, or check out my other stuff, see this post here for more information, bye!
#I'm so used to writing angst atp that I can't tell if this is really heavy hitting or not#oh well#it was still an enjoyable writing session#and now I sleep#fnaf dca#dca fandom#fnaf daycare attendant#fnaf sun#fnaf moon#moondrop#sundrop#dca fic#x reader
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cables and crackle ęŠ jihoon x reader.
âŹâ.Ë It's goosebumps when you hear the drums / The running start before the big jump / It's that feeling, so stellar / Bro, if you like her just go and fucking tell her!
đ¸â°âş includes: f!producer!reader, feelings realization and denial, jihoon has a crush <3, pining/yearning, fluff, [light] angst, first date, confessions, references to producing (that may or may not be accurate).
đ˝â°âş this is part of my ongoing series, buzz (seventeen's version) + this piece is inspired by track 01, buzz. word count: 13,800+
When you first started working with SEVENTEEN three years ago, Jihoon wasn't all that excited to have you around.
Perhaps it was his pride. BUMZU and PRISMFILTER had been the company's go-to's until they decided they wanted to bring in someone fresh, new, up-and-coming. You had been the result: Someone two years younger than Jihoon. Scrappy and hungry. Experimental, ambitious.
His hesitance at your music production has morphed from begrudging respect, to genuine appreciation, to something akin to admiration. Jihoon would never say it out loud, but you've grown to be one of his favorite producers to work with. (He doesn't have to say it, really. Everyone is already privy to Jihoon's biases.)
Now, three years in, Jihoon finds himself trying to reckon with a foreign feelingâ
The flutter of his chest as you walk in to the studio. The stutter in his pulse as your fingers lightly brush over the digital audio workstation. The hitch of his breath as your head, ever so lightly, falls on to his shoulder the longer the evening drags on.
Jihoon is a 27-year-old man. As he tries to stay absolutely still, there's only one thing on his mind: Wasn't he too old to have crushes?
You could usually keep up with Jihoon when it came to these long-night sessions. One had to, considering how he was practically nocturnal at this point. But it had been a long day of minor misfortunes, the type that wear you down bit by bit.
You don't even seem to notice that your head is lolling to one side. When your cheek lands on something solid, you might think it's the back of the chair next to youâ except it's Jihoon's shoulder, and he absolutely freezes underneath you.
He would be the first to admit that this isn't the first time you've ever been this close. There's been many times your bodies have gravitated to the same spot on the couch, or times when your heads are practically glued to one another while your hands are both at the keyboard, or during the times your feet accidentally meet with each other under the desk.
It's just never been this close, where Jihoon can feel the brush of each of your lashes against his neck every time your eyes fall shut.
He think he might pass out if he dwells too much on it.
He watches from his peripheral vision as your eyes flutter shut, and he thinks, for a moment, that you're out of commission. But then, you mumble, "The reverb on the snare, just now."
If you hadn't been right next to Jihoon's ear, your words might have been drowned out by the speakers. But, as it is, he hears you loud and clear. "Too heavy," you go on to say, without even opening your eyes. "We need to dial it back for a cleaner sound."
There it is, he thinks with both awe and bitterness. Even half-lucid, even half-asleep, you're still as brilliant as you've ever been.
"Mhm," he hums lowly. "I'll adjust it."
He does as you've asked. When he runs the track back, you let out a soft sound of contentment and shift slightly in your seat, blissfully unaware of how you're leaning more weight in to Jihoon's side. It's absolute torture, he thinks.
"Better," you mutter. A beat. Your drowsy inquiry comes in next. "How do you feel about the tempo in the bridge?"
He forces himself to pay attention. He runs the song back once more, this time paying particular attention to the bridge. It doesn't take him long to identify the issueâ one of the main ones, anyway.
"A little too dragging," he replies. "It slows the track down a bit too much. I think it disrupts the flow. Makes the chorusâ" He suddenly stops mid-sentence.
Because, for some reason, he's become acutely aware of the way your head fits perfectly into the crook of his shoulder.
He's now fully conscious of how close you are. Of the way your breath fans against his neck. Of the way your knee seems to bump against his whenever you unconsciously readjust your position.
Jihoon feels his pulse pound at his chest as he tries to keep his tone steady.
"It disrupts the flow," he repeats, his voice slightly gruff. "Makes the chorus less of a⌠high, for lack of word."
When your initial response is a thoughtful hum, he bites back the urge to smirk. It should come to no surprise that you're about to disagree with him. More often than not, you butted heads over minor things like this.
"Thought it was too fast," you grumble, somehow sounding a little sulky because of your drowsy state. You're usually a lot more adamant and fiery when it comes to asserting your opinions. But in the lateâ or early, since it's already past midnightâ hour, you've tamped down my temper.
It does absolutely nothing for Jihoon's poor heart.
Your cheek nuzzles against Jihoon's sweater as you shake your head in a very that won't do manner. "The lyrics might suffer. Try slowing it down by 8 BPM so we have more space for vocal delivery."
8 BPM? Jihoon nearly chokes on an incredulous laugh. The number is so arbitrary, so out of pocket. "The tempo's already sitting at 139 right now," he bites out. "It's not like slowing it down by another 8 BPM is going toâ"
Jihoon makes the mistake of glancing down at you, and damn it. You're not just leaning against his shoulder at this point.
You've practically cuddled into him.
Jihoon's breath catches in his throat as you shift once more, leaning your chin against his shoulder.
He finds himself wanting to wrap an arm around you and pull you closer. Press you into his chest until your cheek is up against his. Until your head is tucked right under his chin.
But then you're grumbling out your next words. "139?" you repeat. "Notch it down by 9, then."
The slur in your tone is just enough to remind him that you're not entirely coherent. He swallows hard, his fingers a little too gentle as he inputs the changes. 9 BPM it is.
It's a bad call, one that's made abundantly clear when Jihoon plays the track back. He doesn't even have to tell you; you're already groaning, pressing your face in to his shoulder. Your words are muffled against the soft material of his sweater.
"You were right. Should have amped it up instead of slowing it down," you mutter, though there's a distracted edge to your tone. He gives it a cursory couple of seconds, letting you gather your thoughts.
"There's an issue with the kick and the bass, isn't there?" you note.
He listens closelyâ and, as always, you're right. There's a dissonance between the kick and the bass.
Jihoon frowns, a little more focused now. "Yeah, I hear it too," he manages to say succinctly.
His brain is still trying to conjure up a solution when you let out a slight huff and finally peel away from Jihoon's side. He doesn't know if he's grateful or disappointed because of it.
You're bleary-eyed and your fingers fumble but your work is efficient as you click away at his mouse, at his digital audio workstation. He watches with a straight face as you add sidechain compression to the bass, as you drag the bridge's BPM up.
It's not just the music that's synced, but the way the two of you work as well. A little push, a little pull, and you manage to find balance. You know exactly what to do, even when you're tired.
Jihoon listens closely as soon as the bridge plays back and he's pleasantly surprised.
"That fixed it," he says, his eyes darting rapidly as he takes in the revised audio levels. "Yeah, I think it's good. We should move on to verse three now."
"Jihoon."
He blinks and glances over at you. You've slumped back heavily in to your chair; it spins slightly on its wheels when you do.
"I'm not going to make it through another verse," you warn. "I think I need, like, a power nap."
"Power nap?"
Despite Jihoon's best efforts, a corner of his mouth twitches. A glance at the clock tells Jihoon that it's past one in the morning. They'd been working on the track for a solid eight hours now.
He lets out a low, considering hum, before looking back at you with a slight frown.
"How long is this power nap supposed to last?" he asks dubiously.
"I only need fifteen minutes," you respond.
There's a decisiveness to you tone, one that brokers no argument even if you're rolling your shoulders from sheer exhaustion.
"You're too stubborn for your own good," he replies, though not unkindly.
He rolls the chair back, moving so that he's facing you fully. One leg is crossed over the other, his eyes studying you carefully. He's going to attempt to convince you, obviously.
"You need a good night's rest. You won't be any use at all when you're this tired," Jihoon insists, but he immediately regrets his choice of words when he sees you wince slightly.
You're no stranger to his bluntness; you know just as well that he can be both brutally honest and painfully inconsiderate. That he shows his care and concern in much more roundabout ways compared to others.
And so when you insist that you'll be good as new in fifteen minutes, he can only sigh, leaning forward to rest his forearms against his knees.
"And if you're still tired after fifteen minutes?" he counters. His tone is gentler, softer, this time.
"I'll go home," you grumble, like the thought physically pains you. "If I'm still out of it after my nap, I'll go home."
Jihoon feels some of the tension in his shoulders abate as you finally agree to a compromise. "Fifteen minutes," he reiterates firmly, holding up a single finger for emphasis. "And if you're not ready to work again by the end of it, I'm driving you home."
You open your mouth, almost like you're about to argue at the thought of Jihoon driving you home, but then you opt to purse your lips. You know how the two of you can go in absolute circles some days and so you merely shoot him a heatless glare before stalking over to his studio's couch.
It's not really the type that should be slept on. With its stiff, black leather, the couch is an awful makeshift bed for anyone. But you and Jihoon have figure out little workarounds after spending so much time working togetherâ like the fluffy, folded comforter at the foot of the sofa and the throw pillow that's shaped like an onigiri.
Jihoon watches with a small smile as you curl up on the sofa, underneath the blanket and with the pillow. "G'night," you call out mid-yawn. "See you in fifteen."
He watches you for a beat longer, his eyes tracing the way your expression relaxes, just a little, as your head hits the pillow. After a moment, he manages to tear his gaze away. He really had to work on his habit of staring.
"Yeah," he huffs as he tries to go get a head start on the third verse. "Night."
It's difficult because he can't help but steal glances, and every single time he does, he's struck by a wave of affection. You're so small, so fragile-looking, burrowed in to the sofa. He notes the way the pillow's slightly squished underneath your head, your face half-buried in the plush materialâŚ
He almost feels the urge to take a picture just to capture the scene.
And then he realizes: Why not? You're friends, aren't you? And friends take embarrassing photos of each other.
He picks his phone up from his pocket with one hand and angles the camera with the other. He knows just what he wants to take a picture of. The way your cheek is squished against the rice ball pillow, just barely visible underneath the edge of your tangled mess of blankets. The way your expression is relaxed, softened in sleep, with the slightest pucker to your lips.
He presses down on the snap button, and the shot is just perfect. The way the glow of the monitor catches in your hair, bringing out the natural color. The way your eyelashes fan out over your cheek, and the way the shadows highlight the sharpness of your features.
Jihoon's eyes linger on the image, something akin to longing twisting in his gut.
This time, he doesn't bother to push the feeling away. He does go back to work, though.
Fifteen minutes pass. And then twenty, thirty. The longer you sleep, the more Jihoon's guilt gnaws at him.
He knows he's about to wake you up, to ruin the temporary blissfulness that sleep has brought you. He knows he's about to drag you back to the studio to work again, despite the bags that are under your eyes and the exhaustion that is evident in every line of your body.
He knows he's going to be the cause of your fatigue. And he hates thatâ hates himself, just a little, for his need, his drive.
Still. At the thirty-minute mark, he makes his way over to your side. He reaches out, fingers hesitating for a second, before he gently shakes your shoulder.
"Hey," he calls, his tone soft and neutral. "Wake up. We need more work done."
It's very likely that the unceremonious way you've been dragged out of your sleep has gotten to you, because how else can Jihoon explain the way you drowsily move to hold him?
Your fingers reach up and curl gently around his wrist. Your eyes are still closed as you exhale, "Jihoon-ah."
It's more of a whine than anything, really, but it's one that he can't deny, not when you clutch his wrist like that. "What," he asks, his tone flat out of panic. "What is it?"
It's surreal, in a way. The way your tiredness has loosened your inhibitions, has stripped you down to the simplest, most vulnerable version of yourself, one that's practically begging for closeness.
You give his hand a gentle tug. "Come nap with me. Y'need to rest, too."
Jihoon's mind goes blank the moment the words leave your mouth, his whole body freezing. Because no, he didn't just hear that, you didn't just ask thatâ
And then you tug on his wrist again, and he swears his heart stutters.
On one hand, the rational, reasonable part of his mind is screaming at him to push you away, to reject the idea entirely. He needs to focus. He needs to finish the track. He needs to work, not rest.
But then he looks down at your sleepy form, the way you're clinging on to him, and all those thoughts are thrown out the window.
Slowly, Jihoon lowers himself onto the couch, his body sinking against the plush material. It's a tight squeeze. Months ago, the two of you might have called each other ridiculous for even trying to fit in a piece of furniture that was clearly not for two people to lay on.
The thick of comeback season absolutely shatters any attempts of appropriateness or discretion. As Jihoon complies with your absurd request, you somehow manage to throw the blanket over the two of you.
Jihoon isn't a stranger to casual touchesâ he's had to survive through years of constant skinship between the membersâ but there was something different about this.
The feeling of your body, curled against his own. The way you hold his fingers in your grip, like a comfort, like an anchor. The scent of your hair, so close he could just nuzzle his face into the messy strands.
He tries very hard to focus on the negatives. On how cramped and uncomfortable the couch is, how he's going to end up with a backacheâ
â but his mind doesn't want to cooperate. Because all he can see is you, all he can feel is you; the way your soft, warm body is pressed against his own, the gentle rise-and-fall of your chest against his, you, you, you.
His mind goes blissfully vacant, and before he can even think to stop himself, Jihoon is wrapping his free arm around your waist, drawing you in.
Jihoon doesn't mind the sudden increase in body heat that comes with having you pressed so close to him, not when your back is solid and warm against his chest, not when the curve of your hips slots so smoothly against the shape of him.
He lets out a shuddering breath as you press his palm against your stomach, the fabric of your shirt slightly rucked up by the motion. You're so soft.
For once, Jihoon finds himself hating everything elseâ the studio, the album, the uncomfortable sofa, this damn comeback for robbing him of an opportunity to simply hold you.
Jihoon swallows, his throat suddenly dry as the words slip past his mouth before he can even stop himself.
"You're too close," he mutters in your ear, his lips so close to the shell that he's half-convinced you were going to feel his words against your skin. He's being a hypocrite, really, since he's the one holding you, but he needs to maintain some sense of propriety.
"Mmm," you hum, still more asleep than awake. You exhale an apology as you try to sleepily shift away, mumbling something like "didn't notice" in your languid effort to disentangle.
Your movement has to be the most half-hearted attempt at putting space between the two of you. So Jihoon tightens his grip, his fingers curling over your hip to keep you from shifting away.
He doesn't want you to move, not even an inchâ and it's greedy of him, reallyâ but the thought of losing the heat from your body is more than he can bear, not when you're here and you're so close.
His hold is firm, almost demanding. As you settle back down, Jihoon buries his face against the back of your hair, his mind going blissfully quiet.
"Dunno why y're so cozy," Jihoon murmurs, his words slightly slurred with the exhaustion that's catching up on him now, too.
He tries not to think too hard about it, the intimacy of it all. He tries not to focus on how he's practically molding his body against yours.
Just a nap, he thinks. It's just a nap.
Your voice is so soft, so quiet, nearly lost against the sound of Jihoon's thrumming pulse in his ears. He catches it anyway. Your quiet murmur of "G'night, Jihoon-ah."
He feels strangely light-headed. It's hard to focus, hard to think, his thoughts fuzzy around the edges as he slowly starts to succumb to drowsiness.
Jihoon lets his lids flutter shut, his mind sinking into darkness. "Sweet dreams," he mumbles back.
In the end, Jihoon is the one who has sweet dreams.
They're fractures of a bigger picture, pieces to a puzzle he could never piece together.
He sees your tired smile, hears your soft laugh, feels the brush of your hair against his chin. He sees you in flashes, in glimpses, always out of reach. Never close enough.
They're so vivid, these dreamsâ so realâ that Jihoon swears he can almost feel you, can almost hold you. When he reaches out for you, for the dream version of you, it feels like he's grasping at air.
There are hints of other thingsâ flashes of studio lights, melodies and songs that drift in snippets. But they all fade to the background in the face of you, the way you shine in his dreamscape like a sunbeam.
Seungcheol is the one who finds Jihoon and you the next morningâ or, rather, the next early afternoon.
He's not surprised to hear that Jihoon didn't come home to the dorm. He's not surprised to find Jihoon asleep in his studio. He is surprised to find Jihoon spooning youâ his co-producer, the one they all thought he was a little too soft towards.
Seungcheol's eyebrows raise to his hairline. Jihoon was never the affectionate type. And yet here he was, curled around you like a parentheses. Seungcheol takes a quick picture on his phone before gently nudging Jihoon with his foot.
"Yah," the leader says, his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants; his tone, a little too-amused. "Jihoon."
It takes a few nudges for the words to register, for Jihoon's sleeping mind to slowly come back to the world of the living.
He feels⌠groggy. Exhausted. And strangely warm.
After several long moments, reality catches up with him. As his sleep-addled mind slowly pieces everything together, Jihoon's eyes flutter open and it takes all of two seconds for him to process the fact that he's spooning you.
Jihoon's eyes widen, and his head snaps up to a grinning Seungcheol.
"This isn't what it looks like," Jihoon says immediately, his words tumbling out of his mouth in a rush.
He almost screams when he tries to move away, when he tries to untangle himself from you, and your soft, sleepy whine sounds more like a protest than anything.
He should've let you go. He should've, but when you make that noise, when you curl in closer to him, the part of Jihoon's brain that's awake shuts down entirely.
Jihoon freezes and tries desperately to ignore the way Seungcheol snickers.
Seungcheol keeps his hands in his pockets as he watches Jihoon with growing amusement. Put-together, frumpy Jihoon, stunned in to silence because his co-producer is latched on to him.
It is, as Jihoon had said, very much not what it looked like. Seungcheol can see that the two of you are still fully clothed. Hell, he wouldn't have even imagined Jihoon going that far when the boy barely thought of romance that way.
Still, it's just a little funny. "Long night?" the leader drawls, not even trying to conceal his sheer mirth at the situation.
Long night is a huge understatement, and Jihoon shoots Seungcheol an acerbic look that's not nearly as effective as it normally might be. Not when he's still trying to detangle himself from you without waking you up.
"You have no idea," he grumbles under his breath, his eyes flickering down to your exhausted expression as you cling to him.
He can feel the way his heart stutters at your closeness, the way his chest tightens. Not the time, he scolds himself.
"We were working on the album," Jihoon says, as if that explains everything.
He's given up on trying to move, because he knows that if he keeps trying, you're going to stirâ and the last thing Jihoon needs is an awake you, all warm and soft and adorably disheveled.
"Can you... leave?" he croaks to Seungcheol. Jihoon's cheeks are tinged with a furious red color; he prays to any deity that Seungcheol will simply chalk it up to shame. "I'll give you details later, just..."
Jihoon shifts minutely, and a muted noise of protest escapes from you. He shuts his eyes and sends a silent plea at the ceiling of Please, God, not now.
Seungcheol, for his part, lets out an amused huff, the corners of his mouth twitching. "Alright, alright," the leader says, holding his hands up to show he's conceding. "I'll leave. I'll talk to you later."
He grins. "And try not to have too much fun, yeah?"
The smirk only widens when he sees the flush on Jihoon's face. The leader saunters out of the studio, the door clicking shut behind him.
And Jihoon is... well... left with you.
Silence descends, and it's deafening.
Jihoon can feel each and every beat of his own heart, can hear your slow, soft breath coming out in steady, even exhales. You're asleepâ still clinging on to him, your body pressed firmly against his ownâ and Jihoon tries not to focus on the feeling, tries not to think about how you're so soft, so warm.
He should move, he thinks. He should untangle from you, put at least two feet of space between you, and yet.
Jihoon can't, not when you look so peaceful against him. Not when you're making little noises every now and then, the soft, low sounds coming from somewhere in your throat.
It's a special kind of torture, having you so close when he knows he can't do a single thing about it. Just a taste, an inkling of closenessâ and now he's hooked, wanting for more.
He knows it's selfish, what he's doing. To have his arm wrapped around you, holding you tighter than he should. To relish in your warmth as you sleepâ but Jihoon can't help it, not when he knows this might be the only way he could ever get to hold you.
He knows you're not his. You can't be his, for several reasons.
But for this brief, quiet moment in time, you feel like you could be.
There's no way of telling how much longer you stay there. To Jihoon, it feels like an eternity and then some; in reality, it's probably only a couple more minutes. You shift in your sleep, letting out a big yawn. Jihoon tries to not flinch when you stir.
For one ridiculous moment, he considers closing his eyes and pretending to sleep, so he can have a few more seconds, a few minutes longer with you in his arms. But then you're moving again, and Jihoon can feel his heart in his throat as you blink, shifting to look up at him.
"Huh," is the first thing you say as you squint up at him. "Hi."
"Hey," is his lame response, his tone oddly, uncharacteristically soft. He swallows when he catches the way your eyes flicker all over his face, as if drinking him in.
There's a lot to take in, he's sure. His arm is still around your waist and your leg is slotted between his. The blankets are a mess; the noonday sun, peeking through the studio's heavy curtains.
As your mind finally seems to catch up, you let out a groan. "S'rry," you slur, voice still thick with sleep. "We overslept. I'm a bit clingy when 'm tired."
Yeah, right. Clingy is not a strong enough word for what you had become in your sleep.
Jihoon tries to ignore the feeling of your legs tangled together, the way you're practically molding against him. He tries to tamp down the way his breath hitches, to ignore the way his heart skips a beat when you let out a sleep-filled groan.
"You were hanging on to me for your life," he remarks in a tone that is far more amused than exasperated.
"Yeah, I figured," you say wryly, glancing over at the clock to see the damage. Jihoon's eyes follow your gaze. Two in the afternoon. Your shared 'nap' had lasted a full twelve hours.
"Wow," you huff. "We were out for a while."
"That we were," Jihoon agrees, and he's more than a little reluctant when he lets you go, unravelling his own limbs from yours. The space between your bodies feels like a physical blow, but Jihoon tries not to seem too put off by it.
He sits up, running a hand through his hair. "I haven't slept that long since I was a trainee."
"That's unhealthy."
"Pot calling the kettle black."
There's a calculated casualness in your next words. "Did you at least sleep well?"
The slight concern undercutting your tone makes Jihoon rather light-headed. "I slept like the dead," Jihoon answers easily, and he doesn't even have to lie about that.
His rest had been more peaceful than it had been in years, and if he's truthful, he'd blame it all on the fact that you were wrapped so firmly around him, all soft skin and sleepy warmth. You'd fit so perfectly with him and Jihoon is fairly sure he's never going to get the sensation of you pressed against him out of his mind.
A corner of your lip twitches upward. "Don't say that," you tease as you stretch your arms over your head. "Because we may actually be dead soon enough."
There's still an album to finish. A couple more tracks due in mere days. But Jihoon's suddenly feeling much better in a way that he hasn't in a while.
Even the ever-present stress and exhaustion feels almost like an afterthought, like it's barely even there. In the midst of it all, there's only you, still mussed from sleep.
It helps that you're taking the little cuddle session with surprising grace. "Wanna order in breakfast? Lunch?" you inquire, like you can't quite decide what to call your first meal of the day when it was well in the afternoon.
"Breakfast-slash-lunch sounds good to me," he answers, a hint of a smile visible in the curve of his mouth.
You order Chinese food. Something proper and real, a break from the convenience store rice balls and energy drinks. In the time it takes for the takeout to come, you and Jihoon speed through the song that had been plaguing you both last night. It seemed that being well-rested did you both well.
When the food comes, you go to collect it. In your absence, Jihoon finally checks his phone.
Suddenly, the studio feels ice cold, because he has seventy-something unread messages from his group chat with the boys.
He clicks the little arrow that takes him back to the first unread message, and surprise, surpriseâ it's from Seungcheol. The stolen snap of Jihoon and you cuddled together glares up at the producer, paired with the world's most annoying message.
đ: Our Woozi-yah's a big boy now. ă
ă
ă
The messages don't stop there, because Seungcheol had essentially given the others the green light to blow his phone up.
Jihoon scrolls through them, his expression growing more and more irritated as he reads through the suggestive and ridiculous messages the boys have chosen to send.
âď¸: Jihoon-ah~ Who knew you had it in you~ đââŹ: finally! đŚŚ: LET'S FUCKING GOOOO
Jeonghan, as per usual, is the worst offender of them all. Jihoon is just about to try and get a word in when a new, rapidfire sequence of texts pop up, the second eldest member clearly having entirely too much fun with this.
đź: So cozy, our Jihoon-ie! So cozy ⥠⥠⥠đź: Finally, our Jihoon found himself a pretty girl đź: We didn't know you were such a cuddler~~~
Jihoon's fingers are itching to reply something back, but it's hard to even make sense of the messages; they're coming in so fast. Every time he tries to type something back, another notification pops up with more texts, so he's forced to sit and watch as the members tease him relentlessly.
But thenâ
đą: Cough up @Joshua @Vernon đ˘: dammit. couldn't have waited four months, woozi hyung? -_- đŚ: I didn't lose as much, so it's okay~ đŻ: WINNER WINNER CHICKEN DINNER
The other boys all chime in with their own odds, and Jihoon realizes with horror that his bandmates had bet on him.
The horror quickly morphs into disbelief mingled with irritation.
So they'd bet on him? And on what exactly? That he wouldn't fall for a girl over the course of three years working together?
He doesn't even look at the odds before he types an aggravated reply.
đ: You guys bet on me???
No one even tries to deny it. Soonyoung, the menace that he is, is the first to respond.
đŻ: Not all of us ŕ° ââżâ ŕ° đââŹ: and it's just if you'd get with your fav producer. lol
It occurs to Jihoon, then and there, that the boys presume him and you are dating. It's a misconception he has to amend before any of the twelve can make some wisecrack about it in front of you.
đ: We're not dating.
Jihoon doesn't bother to hide his irritability.
đ: We were just napping together.
It's not the last of it, as it turns out.
More texts flood in after his message, and while there aren't as many jokes as before, it's easy to tell that the members are just dying to tease him about this whole thing.
When you return to the studio bearing your takeout, you're greeted with Jihoon typing furiously away at his phone, a disgruntled sort of look on his face. "You alright over there?" you call out amusedly as you pad over to the studio couch.
"Yes, and no," Jihoon answers shortly, a hint of petulance to his tone. If he looks up at you, it's only for a moment.
For someone who tends to be stoic and brooding, he's not exactly having the best morning right now. Jihoon is more than a little annoyed from the relentless teasing, and while he tries to fight it, there's a lingering feeling of humiliation, too.
A part of him wonders if this is what he deservesâ for having had that moment with you this morning.
"Well, whatever it isâ" you give a dismissive wave of your hand before plopping down on the couch.
He almost smiles at that; you've known each other for an odd number of years. It was enough time to be fairly acquainted with each other's habits and mannerisms, to know when something was worth pressing in to or not.
"Come on," you urge him. "The faster we eat, the sooner we can finish."
"Okay, yes, I'm coming," Jihoon answers hurriedly, and he makes a hasty beeline for the coffee table, where your takeout boxes are set out neatly.
He gives the group chat a final glance, just to make sure they're not texting anything too embarrassing. The more he scrolls the more he's bombarded with messages about you, and you would have thought the group chat was dedicated entirely to you, considering the number of texts.
He groans and locks his phone, turning it face down on the table as he takes his seat.
"Here," you say as you gently place Jihoon's order in front of him. Chao fan with a side of sweet and sour pork; a can of cola.
The way you seem to automatically know all the things he orders, the way you know what the right order to pick for him is, it almost gives Jihoon the sense that you've been working with him for even longer than three years.
He's not sure what to make of it, but it feels strangely nice, somehow, knowing that there's always something or the other that you would already know. He takes a bite out of his meal, wondering when it was that this relationship of his with you had become so comfortable.
It's an odd sensation, really.
Jihoon had always been more than content to keep to himself. But there's no denying that he feels a certain kind of peaceful contentedness when he's with you.
Perhaps it's how the two of you work so seamlessly together. Perhaps it's how you somehow managed to get under his skin. There's a certain comfort that Jihoon isn't used to having that's settled around the two of you.
And it's the kind of comfort that might make him vulnerable.
He can't have that, so he privately decides to keep you at a distance.
It's a distance you reciprocate. Both Jihoon and you know better than to tread the careful line of your friendship, especially in your line of work.
The two of you work like a well-oiled machine, like a lit match being tossed in a haystack. Jihoon and you are relentless, as always, and you finish off the rest of the mini-album in the next three hours.
There's still fine-tuning to hurdle through, but as Jihoon and you replay the last track for the first time, he has to concede. The worst is over.
You slump forward in your chair, your forehead resting against the work desk of his studio. "Done," you breathe. After a moment, you add, "For now."
"For now," Jihoon echoes.
There's a long pause between the two of you as you both relish the peace and quiet of a fully completed mini-album.
"Let's go for coffee?" he finally asks, glancing to where you're slumped in your chair.
You tilt your head ever so slightly until your cheek is pressed against the desk and you're looking up at Jihoon. You smile ruefully as you speak, your tone almost apologetic. "No to coffee. I think I want to go home and knock out for twelve hours."
You go on, "You should do the same. We've been in this studio forâŚ" You pause like you're doing the mental math, and then a disbelieving laugh slides past your lips. "About thirty-three hours, Jihoon-ah."
Thirty-three hours is almost incomprehensible. Jihoon isn't even surprised, because of course, that's the kind of work ethic you've come to expect from an idolâ but, thirty-three hours?
Jihoon's head is spinning. There's a strange, odd kind of haze settling around him, almost like he's caught between a dream and consciousness. He's tired, yes, he's more than tired, but Jihoon knows that he doesn't really need to go home to sleep.
Except he can't say no, not when your words are coming with all the weight of a command, not when you're looking at him like he's some helpless, pitiful wreck, needing some sort of care. He hates it.
He hates that you see him.
"Okay, okay," Jihoon says in a rush, standing from his chair. "I'll go home."
He's always known that any work done with you ends with him doing exactly as you say. You might have never said the words to his face before, but Jihoon isn't an idiot.
He's wrapped around your goddamn finger some days.
The thought that he's now more than willing to do whatever you want from him has never occurred to him before now, and it leaves him feeling slightly shaken, slightly unsure of everything.
It takes you both about ten minutes or so to get everything in order, then another seven minutes to head out of the company building. The relief Jihoon feels as you finally find yourselves outside is immense, even if it is a chilly, early winter evening.
You glance at your wristwatch before distractedly asking him, "You'll be okay behind the wheel?"
"'Course," he says as he fishes for his keys. For a moment, he contemplates asking if you want a ride home. It'd be out of his way, but it's something he's almost willing to bear.
Almost.
Instead, he forces himself to say, "See you. Take care."
You give the same pleasantries back before beginning your trek to the train station. Jihoon, for his part, finds his car in his designated parking space.
The drive home is the most boring and uneventful thing everâ except when Jihoon looks in his rearview mirror. The sight of you disappearing into the distance makes him feel strangely hollow and a bit wistful.
His stomach gives a weird, twisting lurch, and he's tempted to make a U turn right there and then and find a reason to be back in his company.
Maybe he'll tell you just how alone he can sometimes feel after an album is completed. How there's always this sort of lull in the days, hours after his work; how he fights it off by doing more work, even if it's not all that necessary.
He wants to ask if you ever feel the same way, too.
But you had never really been a part of that loneliness, and now you were leaving. Andâ just for the nightâ Jihoon can't help but feel more lonely than ever.
He doesn't want to be lonely.
He wants to be left alone, in a company of his own thoughts, with nothing and no one to distract him. But, for some odd reason, he wants you around.
It's almost too much to bear, so Jihoon turns the radio on louder and lets the sounds of music drown out the patter of his ragged heartbeat.
Jihoon and you are forced to reconvene a couple of days later, albeit on circumstances that neither of you are particularly fond of.
Sungsoo, the company's CEO and executive producer, is already seated at the head of the table when you walk in. Jihoon sees the way your eyes scan the meeting room; he tries not think too much of the way the tension in your shoulders seem to ease when you spot him.
The sight of you makes Jihoon's heart do a little dance, which makes him want to both pull you close and run far, far away from you.
For now, he just gives you a nod of acknowledgement and shifts his eyes back to the older man sitting across the meeting table from the both of them.
You sit across from Jihoon. Sungsoo doesn't even bother to sit; he merely launches straight in to his agenda.
"Good work on SEVENTEENTH HEAVEN," Sungsoo says right off the bat. Jihoon knows it's more of a cursory greeting than anything; there was always going to be more than just a pleasant compliment.
The other shoe drops soon enough. "I think there's more work to be done, though, specifically on three tracks," the CEO presses on.
Three tracks.
Jihoon feels his jaw clamp tightly. He's been through these kinds of corrections before, of course, both from himself and the company. Sungsoo says things about the lyrics of Back 2 Back, and the organization of Yawn, and the chorus of Diamond Days.
And while Jihoon has been through this, has needed to take things apart or put stuff together to appease the higher-ups, it's never any easier. His hands are clasped tight, and he's trying his best to hold himself together, but on the inside, he wants to scream.
This is a part of him. These are all parts of him, big and small, and it's always just a bit of a jabâ to have his heart put in someone else's hand, and then to watch that heart be poked and prodded for the sake of... what? Commercial gain?
At one point, Sungsoo pauses to look between Jihoon and you. "Are you not going to take notes?" the older man asks.
You respond before Jihoon can. "Rewrite the second half of Back 2 Back, tweak the instrumentation balance and structure of Yawn, adjust the rhythm for Diamond Days' chorus," you rattle off. "Iâ we got it, sir."
"Right. Good," he says, and Jihoon doesn't like the condescending tone that Sungsoo uses with you, but at least it's not aimed at him.
The older man sits back in his chair, and Jihoon lets his eyes drift away from the company boss just for a moment to look at you. A strange feeling fills him. He wants to name it appreciation, wants to claim it's nothing more than a little admiration.
But then he'd be lying to himself. Because that warm kind of feeling shifts intoâ just a littleâ something a bit more than what he's supposed to be feeling for a co-producer.
Before he could dwell on this thought any longer, Sungsoo clears his throat and Jihoon quickly tunes back in. He's not thinking about that right now, and that's final.
The meeting wraps up not too long after with some parting reminders on deadlines and the upcoming comeback. Jihoon can tell by the look on your face that you're a bit dazed, and Sungsoo's parting words only add gasoline to the fire.
The CEO says both your names as he readies to dismiss you. "The two of you are a good pair," he notes, and Jihoon almost short-circuits.
Pair.
Right. A good pair of co-producers. Not anything else, not anything more.
Both of you mumble your appreciation for the CEO's remark. And Jihoon, like the fool that he is, feels that warm, fuzzy glow bloom again. He doesn't care what it signifies; at the moment, he's just too happy to work with you again.
By the time you head back to his studio, there's not much that either of you can really say. Marathon edits were not new to either of you; you both slide in to work mode without much preamble.
The music starts playing and the edits start pouring in, and the five or six hours spent on the three tracks fly by without Jihoon even noticing it. It gets to the point where he's working on autopilotâ one hand on the mouse, fingers flying across the keyboard.
The thing about working on autopilot was that it made the process quicker but left little room to feel or think, which was both a blessing and a curse.
At the six-hour mark, he finally deigns to glance at you. Your gaze is focused on the digital audio workstation as you cut some low frequencies from the guitar on Diamond Days, but there's a slight quiver in your hands as you do it.
While Jihoon doesn't see what you're having trouble with, he can sense that you're off. He knows the signs of stress and exhaustion better than most, what with the hours he puts in.
"Aigo," he calls out to you, and his voice is a little raspyâ hoarseâ because he's been humming and singing for the better half of the evening. "Are you okay?"
"Still in the green," you say wryly. You had a bit of a traffic light system to refer to when talking about how far gone either of you were.
He watches intently as you implement the changes to Diamond Days, as you give a disapproving shake of your head at the revision. Still not to your standard.
Of course you wouldn't be at the red light stageâ not even close, he muses. But in Jihoon's head, there was already one foot on the red light spectrumâ and it wasn't just because of the revisions.
"Let's take a break," he suggests.
The idea comes out of absolutely nowhere, even for him. A breakâ? When was the last time he had voluntarily done that?
Jihoon's been having more questions than answers lately, but he just chalks it all up to being stressed. And maybe a little tired.
Anything except what it really is.
This time, you actually do glance up from the workstation. There's mild surprise on your expression as you tease, "Yah, who are you and what have you done to the indomitable WOOZI?"
"Huh?" he deflects. For a brief moment, he almost feels a little shy around you.
"I'm just bored," he explains, and he's surprised that he can lie so well and sound so casual. "You don't need to come if you don't want to. I just wanted to get some air."
But of course you're coming, already pushing back against the table at the rare invite from Jihoon. "The usual?" you prompt.
To others, a 'usual' might have indicated a trip to the cafeteria, a smoke break on the sidewalk. But Jihoon and you both hated the company's food and neither of you smoked, and so your breaks were spent somewhere a little more unorthodox.
"The usual," he agrees.
He leads you across the company building, the walk to your destination full of comfortable silence. Eventually, you make it to your designated break place: The company's rooftop.
Jihoon takes his usual seat at the far end while you sit closer to the ledge. The atmosphere is thick and humid from the weather, but there's a breeze to keep the heat bearable.
When Jihoon said he wanted to get some air, he meant it quite literally.
He doesn't want to give away his real intentions on calling for the break. Still, he can't help the question that slides out of him as he watches the glittering lights of Seoul beneath the two of you.
"Are you feeling better now?" he asks, glancing at you.
"I am," you answer quietly, your gaze still fixed on the city. "Thanks, Jihoon-ah. I needed this."
He almost smiles. "Of course."
This was the first time since he's met you that he'd asked you to do something just because he thought you needed it. And it isn't long until that fact has Jihoon wondering why the heck he's been putting things off so much lately.
He doesn't get to mull over his thoughts for long thoughâ not when there's a sudden urge to do another thing that he realizes he hasn't ever done.
He takes out his phone and opens up the camera app. "Yah," he calls. "Look here for a second."
You do as he asks, glancing over your shoulder, and the soft click of his phone breaks through the white noise of the city below. When you let out a surprised laugh, he thinks it's the second best thing he's ever heard. Only after music.
"What are you doing?" you chide, a bit of a giggle in your tone as you raise your handâ palm facing Jihoonâ to your face, as if trying to shy away from the camera.
"I don't know," he admits. A laugh tumbles out of him, and he knows he's blushingâ but he's not ashamed of it this time, not really.
"It doesn't have to mean anything," he assures you. He holds in a chuckle at the way you're blocking your face and snaps another picture.
Maybe he's delirious from all his work. That has to be it, he thinks, as he clicks away despite your sputtered protests.
"Alright, fine," you huff, feigning annoyance. And thenâ oh.
You brace your hands against the ledge and tilt your head to one side so you can flash Jihoon an easy, practiced grin. "Cheese," you sing-song.
It takes quite a lot of willpower for Jihoon not to just sit and stare, that strange feeling welling inside of him coming to fore. He's not proud of it, but it's there, and the fact that there's something about you that makes him feel this way makes everything a little bit more complicated.
"Cheese," he agrees, taking just one more picture of you.
He knows he's smiling too hard, his eyes turning in to crescents with just how damn fond he feels to be snapping photos at your side.
You can never tell from the expression on his face, but he's wrecked with the knowledge that he had just done three things he had never done before:
He's asked you to do something solely because he thought you needed it.
He's taken a picture of you (with your knowledge, this time).
And he's let this thing he has for you be so in control of him.
It's a damning thing, he muses as he tucks his phone away. What would happen next was up to the universe.
Admittedly, it almost all felt like a test, and Jihoon is terrified he had failed.
But then you reach out, your hand casually resting atop of Jihoon's. You don't clasp your hands together or intertwine your fingers. You merely keep it there as you cast your gaze back down at the city, like you're giving Jihoon a chance to pull away.
It's almost instinctual, how he turns his hand over and links his fingers together with yours. His fingers are longer, so your fingertips curl over his and youâre left holding his hand for the first time.
You don't say a thing about it. Jihoon tries to rationalize the action on your behalf. Maybe you're just delirious and tired, too. Maybe it's cold and you need something to hold on to. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
All the while, his heart thumps in his chest.
Did he even deserve this? Was this okay?
Would it be okay if he just sat there, looking down onto the city, holding your hand and nothing more?
His brain refrains the earlier remark he'd given you. It doesn't have to mean anything. It's just a hand in his, a quiet evening, a moment that will eventually pass.
It doesn't have to mean anything, but why does Jihoon want it to?
Back in the studio, neither of you say a word. Not about the photos of you that Jihoon now has in his phone; not about the way you initiated holding his hand. Not about how the two of you held on for just a bit too long before heading back from your break.
The two of you do what you do best: You throw ourselves in to the last of your work.
It takes you two a record of fifteen minutes to fix what had been wrong with Diamond Days, and then some twenty more minutes to make sure the three other tracks are alright. Jihoon does the honors of sending them over to Sungsoo for some final checks.
Once the email goes through, you lean back in to the couch of Jihoon's studio. "And now we wait," you exhale, sounding equally exhausted and elated.
With your work for the day done, it feels like whatever veil of formality had held the mini-album together is brokenâ and you're now just two people in Jihoon's workplace, tired, and done working for the day.
Jihoon stretches his arms out and sags against his chair, letting out a groan.
"And now we wait," he repeats. A beat, as he keeps his eyes trained to the ceiling. Then, softly, he adds, "You did good, you know."
He sees you glancing at him from the corner of his eyes. "You, too," you offer quietly, sincerely. "You did well, Jihoon-ah."
His eyes remain on the ceiling, his mind taking him back to how it felt when your hand rested atop of his. It had felt strange and it had felt goodâ and the fact that you'd so boldly initiated it in the first place made it even better.
The thought that there was a possibility of it being a one-time thing made him almost want to cry, for whatever reason.
It's just so weird, and Jihoon has never felt like this before. He's never caught in a complicated sort of feeling like this. But the way you'd held his hand was differentâ and the more thoughts he thought about it, he realized that your touch was different from the touch of anyone else's.
"Can we talk for a second?" is all he finds himself able to ask, and it's a surprise to himâ considering how much the two of you have never talked about things that were just about you and him.
Still, he wonders that perhaps now, with everything that's happened here, there was something he needed to tell you. Something he wanted you to know.
He hears you shifting on the couch, spots a corner of your lip quirking upward in a show of interest. When he fully turns to look at you, he notices the way you've braced yourself against the back of the couch to meet his gaze.
"Sure," you say. "What's on your mind?"
Jihoon rubs his hand over his mouth as he thinks of a way to articulate his thoughts.
There are so many words here that don't need to be said. There are some words that he wants to say but that you simply don't need to hear.
There were a lot of things he wanted to say, but he needed to filter them very well because he wasn't sure if they'd cause a misunderstanding.
"I'd like to keep doing this," is what eventually comes out.
His fingers find his earlobe out of nervousness. His heartrate only seems to spike when you stare back at him for a moment, your eyebrows raised like you're waiting to see if he'll elaborate.
And so elaborate he does. "All of this," he goes on. "Producing for the group, collaborating with you, just⌠seeing you and talking to you and⌠having you around."
It feels a bit weird to express after three years of working alongside each other, but it's also the first explicit admittance Jihoon has made abut wanting to keep up your collaboration.
He's not surprised when you try to pass it off with some humor. "I'll stick around for as long as you'll have me," you say almost jokingly, but there's almost a desperate weight of truth in your words.
Jihoon sighs, his expression tightening. There was a whole lot he wanted to say to youâ he wanted to make a lot of things very clearâ but he also wanted to keep whatever was blooming between the two of you going.
He tries not to dwell on it. Not now, with his feelings as fresh as they were.
"I've been thinking," he starts, his voice quieter now. "Maybe we could⌠get to know each other or something. Spend the day togetherâ away from the company. Away from this life. Just as⌠two normal adults."
Another pause.
"Are you asking me out on a date, Jihoon-ah?" you kid after a torturous minute.
Jihoon goes quiet for a moment, the gears turning in his head.
He really was asking you out on a date, wasn't he? How would he even spin this as something simple and innocent?
What had he been expecting in return when he asked you? Why did he ask in the first place if it wasn't to actually find out who you were and why you were the only person he could really say he wanted to spend time with?
Questions, no answers. He's going to go insane.
"You know what," he blurts out before he can lose his nerve. "Yeah. Yes, I am asking you out on a date."
You're both stunned in to silence, and you look like you're just about to say what you should. A 'no'. Something about this not being proper.
But then there's a faint ding from Jihoon's laptop, and he glances over just in time to see that Sungsoo had responded in the affirmative to your revisions for the group's eleventh mini-album.
A stuttering, relieved breath escapes you. Jihoon, for his part, lets out a huff, his shoulders falling. He hadn't even meant to ask you out on a date; he was only going to ask you to spend the day with him.
Now, though, it was out in the open. And he'll be damned to take it back.
"Looks like we're free now," he muses, far too prideful to let Sungsoo derail this conversation. Jihoon's voice is edged with hope as he goes on, "So, what do you say?"
Jihoon has no way of knowing this, but you admire his persistence. When you laugh, it's what changes your mind, what privately convinces you to take him up on his offer.
Because Jihoon had still somehow managed to make you laugh despite it all.
"You know what? Okay," you say readily, one shoulder raising in half a shrug. "Let's go on a date next week, Jihoon-ah."
It would definitely beat sitting in Jihoon's studio, alone and bored, until Sungsoo had sent over their next project.
"Okay," he repeats, his lips curling in a tentative smile. "I'll let you know what plans I come up with, then."
"Alright." You're already rising from the studio couch, preparing to take your leave for the evening.
As you gather your things, Jihoon tries to look back at his workstation instead. Like the sight of it might somehow give him the answers to where to take you, what to do, how to go about all this.
You pause at the door of his studio. "Text me," you say.
It's nothing short of a miracle, how Jihoon is able to respond "I will."
And then you're gone, but the loss doesn't feel as prominent as it usually does. Because now, Jihoon has something to look forward to.
He doesn't remember the last time he allowed himself to be so selfish.
His thoughts over the next few days are consumed with the upcoming date.
Everything he does seems to center around how the date will go, where he'll bring you, and how he would survive a day in your presence without completely humiliating himself.
He takes his time planning. By the time next week rolls around, he's a mess.
His ears are burning as he dials your number and presses the call button.
Your tone is casual on the other line. "Hey, Jihoon-ah," you greet. "What's up?"
Jihoon takes a moment to just hear your voice. He internally groans at how a simple what's up already has his heart rate picking up like nobody's business.
"Hey," he finally says after he gathers himself, his free hand shoving into his pocket. He's pacing his apartment bedroom, fighting for his life to keep calm. "I⌠just wanted to call about tomorrow."
When you respond, your voice is cautious. "Sure. What about tomorrow?"
There's a slight pause again, and Jihoon can already feel the sweat forming on the inside of his palm.
Surely, you wouldn't think he was calling to cancel? Why would he have waited until the day before?
"Just needed to ask you about something," he admits, his free hand coming up to fiddle with the hair on one side of his ear. "I just wanted to⌠ask a question. UhâŚ"
"What⌠are you going to be wearing?" he finally spits out, his face already going red as the words leave his mouth.
Why the fuck can't he be cool about this? Why can't he be casual and chill about the date and about seeing you? It's so goddamn frustratingâ he needed to get a handle on himself and soon, he thinks with despair.
"Oh. UhâŚ" From the other end of the phone, you seem to be shuffling around. "I was actually going to ask what our plans were," you admit rather meekly. "So I can dress accordingly."
Jihoon's eyes widen, and for a moment, he feels even more like an idiot than he usually does.
You had no idea where you were going, he realizes, and as a resultâ you had no idea what to wear.
"Oh⌠right," he says, mentally facepalming himself. He was supposed to be the one giving you information, not the other way around. "Yeah, okay. That makes sense."
He takes a second or two to collect himself, becauseâ God, he did not want to mess this up. If you found out about the amount of work and effort he'd put in this thing, you'd definitely laugh at him.
"Nothing too formal, but don't be super casual," he says slowly. "You'll want a jacket, maybe. And wear comfortable shoes."
He takes another deep breath, steadying himself before he adds, "And I'm going to pick you up at ten. Is that alright?"
Jihoon's instructions are a touch on the vague side, but you don't seem to mind as you let out a huff of amused laughter. "Dress warm, comfortable jacket and shoes, ten in the morning," you repeat. "Okay. Got it."
You go on, "I'll text you my address. Iâ we've known each other so long, but I don't think you've ever come over, have you?"
Another good point. Jihoon and you spent most of your time at the company. There were rare occasions where you'd join the group's post-comeback celebrations with the rest of the staff, but those were always at some rented-out restobar.
"Yeah. Well. Just text me, then," he says lamely, already mentally berating himself for how much of a fool he's acting. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow, Jihoon-ah," you bid, and he can hear the smile in your voice.
Just like that, Jihoon's heart rate picks up againâ except this time, it's not just nervousness he feels.
There's that strange sense of anticipation, the slight thrill of excitement he gets with the mere thought of seeing you the next day, and he nearly lets out an exhale to quell all those feelings.
"See you," he says finally, his voice barely above a murmur.
And then suddenlyâ he's hanging up, the realization of everything finally settling on him. This was actually happening.
He sits on his bed for a moment, just mulling over the conversation, before he lets himself fall back onto the mattress in horror. He had just hung up, hadn't he? Did he even say goodbye? Did he even say something nice? He was a mess.
He lets out a long, pitiful whine in to a pillow as he wonders for a second or two if he should call back just to say good night to you properly.
In the end, he decides against it. He didn't want to come off as desperate and it was pretty likely that he'd just dig a deeper hole for himself.
Still, he can't help but let out an annoyed, strangled sound as he turns to look at the ceiling.
He was going to have to put a lot of effort if he didn't want to embarrass the hell out of himself.
Come the next day, Jihoon is standing outside your apartment at exactly ten in the morning.
He knocks almost tentatively, and he's only a little surprised that you swing the door open without missing a beat.
You flash him a smile in greeting. "Come in," you say, ushering him in to what he can only describe as uncharted territory. "Can I get you something to drink? Water, juice?"
He's so tripped up over how you lookâ the smart-casual outfit, focused on warmth, as he'd advisedâ that he almost misses the offer.
"Ah," he stutters. Barely a minute in and I'm already done for, he thinks ruefully. "Do you haveâ cola?"
You give a small sound of assent as you move further in to your apartment, towards what he assumes is the kitchen. "Make yourself at home," you call, and Jihoon is left to bear witness to your space.
It looks very much like that of an artist's. There's floor-to-ceiling corkboards on almost every wall and a blackboard full of chalk markingsâ bearing everything from concepts to half-finished lyrics.
You have bookshelves groaning under the weight of music albumsâ Jihoon sees a number of SEVENTEEN'sâ and instruments crammed in to nooks and crannies.
He suddenly remembers how, for some reason, you had never really let him come over to your apartment before. And now, he understands why, because your apartment almost felt like a reflection of your own brainâ chaotic, but brilliant. It was a creative genius's studio, and it was more than just a little bit captivating.
You return with a can of Coke. "It's a lot, isn't it?" you muse.
Jihoon shakes his head. It is a lot. But alsoâ he knows how gifted you are, knows how driven you can be. Seeing it here, so openly on display, has something stammering in his chest.
"Is this all your work?" he asks a moment later, still glancing around. "Is this⌠everything you've been working on? You've been keeping it here?"
"Not all of us have separate studios," you shoot back. There's an easy smile on your face, indicating that you're just teasing.
When you seem to realize that your initial jab hasn't answered Jihoon's question, you amend, "It's not all of my work. You should see my childhood bedroom back in Jeju."
"Jesus," he says with a slight chuckle, his fingers pressing around the metal of his soda can.
He doesn't know why the thought of your childhood room in Jeju having more of this surprises him. But, then again, that was just the kind of person you were. An ambitious, freethinking, creative genius, the same qualities he'd grown to appreciate over time.
And now he was about to go on a date with you. How the hell had he gotten this lucky?
He isn't quite sure what compels him. All he knows is that the question, almost rhetorical in nature, is out of his mouth before he can reel it back in.
"You really love music, don't you?"
The question seems to throw you off-kilter, but you recover surprisingly fast. You're thoughtfully smoothing out the patches on your denim jacket as you retort, "I love it about as much as you do."
If it had been any other person, Jihoon might have scoffed, might have privately thought they were cocky or just outright lying. But it's you, and his heart twists in to a knot at the thought of how willing he is to accept that cardinal truth.
That you and him loved music in equal measure.
In a hopeless attempt to collect himself, he shoots back his soda in several big gulps. The carbonated drink burns as it goes down his throat; he forces it to stay down.
"We should probably get going," he prompts once he's done with his drink.
"Right, of course."
You go to throw away his empty soda can for him, and the way you move makes it abundantly clear that you're unaware of the effect you have on him.
As the two of you step out of your apartment and find your way to Jihoon's car, he can only hope that it won't be that long of an afternoon.
Despite the way he keeps both hands on the steering wheel, Jihoon can still feel the nerves racing up and down his spine. He's nervous, excited, his emotions a mess as he tries to get himself together.
He can't believe that after years of talking about music and just working together, after all this goddamn time, you were finally going on a date together.
The car radio is just a touch too loud, which is to be expected, considering that it was Jihoon's vehicle. You have to pitch your voice above it to be audible.
"Where are we going?" you ask as he peels in to traffic.
"You'll see when we get there," he responds.
The disapproving pinch of your expression draws a laugh out of him. He doesn't give you the opportunity to press any longer as he fiddles with the radio dial, upping the volume just a touch more.
He'd planned this date carefully after spending far too much time agonizing over all the details. He was damned if he wasn't going to keep some things in the dark.
It's a quiet drive for the most part, with only the radio keeping the silence from being too deafening. But, frankly, Jihoon isn't too bothered by the silence because it gives him ample time to collect his thoughts, to try not to focus on the way your hand is right there, a few inches away from his on the gear shift.
He keeps his eyes on the road, keeps his expression neutral, and keeps his cards as close to his chest as possible.
Once Jihoon is finally pulling in to a parking lot, he manages to find his voice. "We're here," he notes, like it's not the most obvious thing in the world.
He waits a moment for you to also unbuckle your seatbelts, and only then does he climb out of the car. He quickly walks around to your side, pulling open the door for you and gesturing for you to follow him as he crosses the parking lot.
"What is 'here', exactly?" you ask Jihoon as you walk up to the building in front of you. It looks rather unassuming; nothing on the outside giving out what it might be. Just white walls and a sign outside that's still too far to read.
Jihoon catches the way you try to make out the sign, and he can't help but find himself feeling a touch flustered because goddammit, was he allowed to find everything you did endearing?
He clears his throat before finally answering. "A planetarium."
Now, Jihoon definitely doesn't miss the way your eyes widen, nor the small tone of excitement that betrays the otherwise casualness of your voice.
"That's cool," you say with your hands shoved in to the pockets of your jacket. "Never been to one before."
He can clearly see how excited you'd gotten just at hearing where he'd brought you. And, frankly, it just makes his pulse race all that much more.
"Well, let's go in and have a look then, shall we?" he offers, his voice a little on the quieter side as he tries valiantly to not mimic your excitement.
As you approach the building façade, the signage comes in to better view. It boasts of an immersive planetarium experience, but what stops you dead in your tracks is a note tacked on the front door.
Closed for a private event.
"Oh?" you're saying, a slight edge of disappointment in your tone. "It's looks like it'sâ"
But before you can finish your sentence, the door is pulling open, and an important-looking manâ the managerâ is already stepping up to address Jihoon.
"Mr. Lee, right on time," the employee greets with a bow. "We've set everything up for you."
The oh that escapes you, this time, is a lot softer.
Jihoon can't help the small grin that immediately works its way across his lips at your reaction. He'd been hoping to catch you by surprise, and he can tell that it worked.
He gives a polite, somewhat formal half-bow in return to the manager before glancing over his shoulder to you. There's a hint of smugness in his voice as his gaze lands on you again. "C'mon," he says as he starts making his way in to the planetarium.
The inside is mostly dark; Jihoon gives his eyes a moment to adjust to the change. There's no one else here but the two of you, and Jihoon isn't really complaining about the emptiness. It just means he can have you all to himself, without having to worry about having anyone else around.
He can hear your footsteps, following behind him, and he has to mentally remind himself to keep himself together before he finally glances over his shoulder at you.
"Surprised?" he teases, the ghost of a smirk making its way on to his face.
He revels in the look of awe on your face, the way you all but ignore him to pull a couple of steps ahead. You're surveying the lobby like it's already the main exhibit, and Jihoon has the sudden urge to rent out every gallery in Seoul for you to see.
Your next words are one-two punch on Jihoon's poor, poor heart. "I think you've got some nerve, Jihoon-ah, pulling out all the stops on our first date," you muse, your face still upturned to the entryway.
Jihoon almost trips right over his own two feet as the casualness of your words registers in his mind.
Multiple dates. You were implying that there might be multiple dates to follow. That you wanted there to be multiple dates.
He takes a quick breath, trying to maintain any semblance of a nonchalant attitude as he responds. "What?" he says, the smirk just a touch more shaky on his lips. "You think this is 'going all out'?"
He continues to walk, catching up to you a few moments later. "I'm offended. How dare you think that I'd settle for anything less than perfection."
"If this isn't 'all out' yet for you," you quip. "I'm a bit nervous as to what is."
He only responds with a small chuckle. "You'll see."
He leads you to the next room over, and this particular one is far more darker. The only source of light is from the projector against the back wall, projecting a constellation map on the opposite wall.
Jihoon glances over his shoulder once more, watching the small look of wonder on your face. He leads you to a small couch in the center of the room before sitting comfortably beside you on it.
His face is partially illuminated by the lights of the projector, and he can clearly see the way you're taking in everything around him.
"You like it, hm?" he gently prods, watching you again.
It's a lot to take in, honestly. The high ceiling, the projected constellations, the lights dancing across both your faces. Even the way the room has been rearrangedâ the single plush couch, the type that allows you to recline and gaze up at the faux sky of constellationsâ is all so damn good.
"I like it," you concede, your voice barely above a murmur. You speak like you're scared that talking any louder will break an illusion. "It'sâ yah, Jihoon-ah. It's so pretty."
In that moment, Jihoon almost forgets how to breathe.
There's something so soft and gentle and fond to your voice as you speak, and the way your words came out almost reverently does something to Jihoon that he couldn't quite explain.
"Pretty," he repeats, eyes still trained on you. "It is, isn't it?"
The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a long time; Jihoon still watching you instead of the exhibit. You didn't just say it was pretty. You'd said it with words and tone and expression that told him just how much you loved it.
Christ, he was a goner. He was far gone for you.
After what feels like both an eternity and a second at the same time, Jihoon finally shifts his gaze away from you, glancing up at the ceiling above him. He's quiet for a few more moments before he finally speaks again.
"Y'knowâŚ" He starts, the sound of his voice just a touch quieter than usual. "When I was a kid, I always thought the stars were my favorite thing."
Jihoon glances over at you again, noticing the way you were still practically enchanted by the projected stars above you. It makes him bite back a small, amused smile, before he continues.
"I used to sit out in the field by my house and count them, name them, make up my own stories for each of them. I thought they were the most magical, most incredible things in the whole universe."
He thinks of his home back in Busan, the way the moon reflected over the sea water. He thinks of a version of him from lifetimes agoâ a boy he'll never be again.
He almost misses him.
Jihoon lets out a soft huff. "And then I got older, and life got really shitty and busy, and..." His voice falters a bit. "The stars were no longer as important to me as they were before."
He exhales, the sound filling the quiet room. He can feel you listening, can feel you taking in every sincere word of his. And that's enough. That means something.
"But..." He goes on quietly. "Sometimes, there are moments that come, and the only things that matter are the stars again."
It's just like Jihoon to spew something poetic without pretense or shame. In his peripheral, he sees you glancing at him, and it takes everything for him to not let this feeling overwhelm him.
"I hope you have more moments like that, then," you say, your voice equally soft.
There was something so endearing about the sentiment you'd said, and he knew that you meant every word of it. And that made it all so much worse for his heart.
He's so whipped, it almost makes him want to laugh.
This is one of those moments, he almost says. Even if it's not real stars.
He can't help it anymore. Despite all the times he's had to keep up his usually cool, calm demeanor with you, despite his usual attitude, despite his usual shyness, the urge is just too much andâ
He slides his arm around your shoulders, pulling you a little closer.
That was one thing the stars could do: Give him a bit of courage.
When you don't resist his gentle tugging, he figures he can do just one more thing.
His free hand moves to your chin, gently coaxing your head up so that youâre looking at a specific point up at the ceiling.
You're so focused on the stars, you barely even register the sound of Jihoonâs voice again.
"The most special stars," he murmurs. "They all have names."
Heâs still speaking into your ear, and you can feel his warm breath against your skin. "That one," he says, his voice like gravel. He slowly, carefully tilts your chin up just a little more. Coaxing you to look up even further. "Is my favorite."
His calmness is belied by the fact that his heart is a jackhammer in his chest. All he can do, really, is try to get you to look at one of the larger stars that's almost dead center in the middle.
"Why is it your favorite?" you inquire, the genuine curiosity in your tone almost mistakable for breathlessness.
"It's the brightest star in the entire sky." His gaze darts between the star and your face, the shadows of the room hiding the way his chest tightens at the sight of you listening intently. "It's called Sirius."
His voice is still soft, but there's a new note to it that you've never heard before. It's quiet, reverent, almost like he's about to tell you a secret.
"The Romans called it the 'dog star'," he continues. "Because it's the brightest star in Canis Major, the big dog constellation."
He lowers his head a little so that his chin is almost resting on your shoulder, and his arm around your shoulders tightens just a fraction.
"But to the Chinese, it was known as the 'heavenly river commander'," he goes on. "And the Arabs called it the 'chief star in heaven'."
Jihoon is getting nervous, now, but he has to do this. He has to.
It feels like the first flicker of a neon sign as he goes on, "To all those different people, it was all of those things. To meâ"
He pauses, feeling the words stick in his Adam's apple.
The brightest star in the night sky.
For the longest time, Jihoon had wondered whether he would find something to call it, too. The closest he's come has been the boys, his music.
But that felt like an understatement. They weren't just a group, after all; they were his whole life. And so it was more apt to describe them as the universe, as the entire planetarium.
Which left him with the brightest starâ
"To you?" you repeat, tilting your head back to meet Jihoon's gaze head on.
"What's it called to you?" you prompt.
In the relative darkness, he can't read you as well as he might have wanted.
It doesn't matter. It doesn't change what's he's going to say, anyway.
He gives you his answerâ
He says your name.
And then he leans inâ his heart at your feet, all yours for the taking.
#jihoon x reader#lee jihoon x reader#woozi x reader#jihoon fluff#woozi fluff#jihoon imagines#woozi imagines#jihoon x you#woozi x you#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt imagines#seventeen imagines#ylangelegy buzz x svt#( GOD. so much longer than it's meant to be )#( part two? tbh very unlikely. we must just imagine the happy ending. LOL )#ŕ¨ŕ§ muse .á svt#ŕ¨ŕ§ penned by ylangelegy
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There was definitely no denying it. This kid was his son, it was still almost unsettling. After all these years, Toji would have thought that his son would seem like a stranger to him. Yet here they were and despite everything, Toji still saw the little baby who brightened his life even if it was momentarily all those years ago. His baby, he tries not to think but it fills his mind anyways. He reminds himself that to Megumi he is nothing but a strangerâthe cold and cruel man who abandoned him and who almost killed him. He is actually glad that Megumi is distrustful and wary of him. Rather he be that than too trusting. Though he could tell Megumi was warming up to him at least a little, and then again so was he. After all, he was the one who wanted to leave again. The longer he stuck around the more he realized he may not be able to leave again.
At least Megumi still had some fight in him though. He could see the anger still simmering in those pretty eyes of his. Yeah, they were the same color as his but Megumiâs eyes were still far more pretty. Filled with so much emotion, he wonders if Megumi knows the power he has over people with those pretty eyes. Probably not⌠This amuses him, even though he knows his sonâs anger should not amuse him. He deserves that anger, though and he will gladly let Megumi take it out on him. Might as well if heâs going to stick around. Toji canât deny heâs curious as to why Megumi wants him to stick around. Was it really because he just wanted his dad in his life? Even if he knows his father is a good-for-nothing asshole? Or does he really think that thereâs more to Toji? Sorry kid there isnât⌠Fucking hell⌠Toji almost chokes when he notices the blush on Megumiâs face. What the hell was there to be blushing about? Why does he look so damn cute⌠He has to bite back the grin and the urge to pinch his cheek hard. How is it that his teenage son is still the damn cutest brat to exist? Maybe all parents feel this way but Toji is pretty sure his kid is the cutest. He doesnât let go right away. Instead, his face is leaning in slightly a playful smirk playing about his lips as his eyes study Megumi. Finally, he releases him but not before his eyes widen slightly at what Megumi says.
âI mean I guess thereâs no denying youâre my kid. But Iâm not as emo nor nearly as pretty.â
He grins and pats the top of Megumiâs head before finally walking away. Grunting in response to him saying he should shower. He picks up the leftover pizza to put it away in the kitchen area of the suite. Going to rummage in the fridge for the drinks he bought. God, he needed a cigarette⌠He hasnât smoked at all since being back alive he realized just now⌠Why didnât he buy any at the store? Or at least some alcohol. This revelation shook him to the core. He had been so focused on Megumi that he had not once thought about what he wanted⌠Other than he kept avoiding the fact that he wanted to stay by Megumiâs side.
Damn it, he really was a mess. Maybe thatâs what happens when you get a second shot at life if that's what this was. Do you get soft and try making up for the mistakes you made in life? Toji never thought he would be one to care to make up for anything but the more time he spent with Megumi, the more he realized that part of him did yearn for something he was not familiar with or perhaps just something he hadnât felt in a long time.Â
While Megumi goes to shower Toji takes the opportunity to lay in the bed and rest. He meant to just take a moment but he ends up falling asleep to the sound of the running water.
Father and son were easily distinguished in appearance and soon showed in the form of emotion and actions. Pensive, closed off, battling their emotions, and deep down wanting desperately to close the awkward gap between them. If the world didn't know better they might have thought Megumi was raised by Toji to learn all his mannerisms. What they had was in the blood. Even in another ten years and half a world apart, the son would be like his father. For a moment Megumi got a brief inkling of that.
For the first time since reuniting, he saw more than the similarities in their green eyes and black hair but his father, this absent man, took the wind out of those sails when he said GUMI. The nerve! As if his father had been an ACTUAL father. It twisted his stomach in knots but those knots felt loosened when the conversation returned to the serious, bigger picture which lied in front of them. For all either of them knew, this reunion would be just a reunion as either or both of them could die in the fight to come.
Very solemn train of thought was upended and a rush of heat hit Megumi straight in the face. He didn't know why. Was it the heat from the anger that was resurfacing? No, it felt different -- his father was being so brave and commanding. Megumi struggled to swallow when he was face-to-face with his father again and just as he thought about turning away ever so subtly, Toji's fingers were grabbing him. It startled him for half a second. He didn't really think his father would hit him again but he certainly wasn't expecting goofiness or fondness. Now he really felt hot all over.
â Stop. â
With his cheeks squished, he sounded muzzled; a wolfdog hybrid being domesticated with love he wasn't sure whether he hated or loved yet. It was similar to all the shenanigans Satoru had pulled with his overly affectionate hugs, hair ruffles, and cheek pinching, but it was different coming from Toji. His true father. Hands quickly went up to smack Toji's hands but it wasn't actually meant to harm his father... if such a thing was possible.
â I always look like this. I look like--- you. â
Only like a foolish teenager. Only one percent as good looking and masculine as Toji. Green eyes met green eyes and Megumi decided to maintain the steady eye contact. Part of him was curious to see if he kept pushing this relationship would it drive Toji away despite his claims of sticking around. One thing was saying, another thing was facing your son and realizing there was no turning back. His heart was racing faster and faster.
â I should shower. I probably smell... bad. â
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can you do a chapter based on your Death!Reader and God!Brother hcs where Death wakes up from her sleep and goes to Heaven to check up on her brother's children and everyone is obviously terrified of her?
HmmmâŚIâm not typically one to do requests because the urge to write is so sporadic and random for me. BUT I have been thinking about the initial confrontation in Heaven for a while now, so here are some head cannons for that. >w>
ââ
- Itâs a typical perfect day in HeavenâŚUntil it isnât. Having seen what had become of your realm and learning Heaven was to blame for it, youâre on your way to rip someone a new asshole.
- Screams erupt from the Angels as the ground begins to shake and the bright sky darkens. Sera and Emily rush out just in time to join the Angels in watching in abject terror as a massive pool of darkness forms on the ground, and from it slowly rises a menacing figure.
- The figure is massive, and it only continues to rise until even the tallest building barely reaches its hips. Its six long horns twist and arch toward the sky, only making the figure appear even taller. Upon reaching its full height, the figure spreads its six mighty wings, each one sporting a menacingly sharp claw and all as shrouded in darkness as the rest of the figure.
- As its wings blot out the sun further, the figure opens its many blazing white eyes; two where youâd normally expect to see eyes, a third in the center of its forehead, and dozens more scattered across its wings and body.
- Sera lost all color as soon as she saw the figure rising, and somehow lost even MORE color when the figure opened all of its eyes. She looks like she shit herself, and Emily is panicking, trying desperately to get Sera to tell her whatâs going on; sheâs never seen the older Seraph look so terrified.
- With this unimaginably imposing figure now looming over Heaven, Adam decides this is the PERFECT time to attack, having been dumb enough to think this was a Demon attacking Heaven.
- The exorcists fly up towards the figure, ready to attack. This only angers the figure further however, and with a rumble that shakes the ground itself, the figure merely flaps its wings; creating a gust of wind so powerful it knocks all the exorcists back onto the ground.
- Itâs at this point Sera FINALLY snaps out of it, rushing to Adam in mad panic and damn nearly strangling him while telling him to call off the exorcists. Which he does, albeit with some reluctance.
- This doesnât stop him from asking Sera what gives, and her response is âAdam you absolute fucking fool, that is DEATH!â
- Now itâs Adamâs turn to look like he shit himself. âDeath? As in, âthe big man himselfâs younger sisterâ Death?? As in, âthe baddest bitch youâve EVER seen, but can kill ANYTHING by just touching itâ Death??? THAT fucking Death????â Ignoring that last statement, Seraâs frantic nodding in confirmation confirms to Adam that he has indeed fucked up. Big time. Adam then proceeds to lose all color in his face and practically cowers behind Sera as she cautiously approaches you, mentally preparing herself to be reaped on the spot.
- Back to your perspective however, youâre fucking PISSED. So pissed that you donât even notice or stop to think that most of Heavenâs inhabitants likely have NO CLUE who you are, and are likely legitimately fearing for their lives. Meanwhile for all the older Angels and Angelic beings whoâve been alive long enough to have known you before you went to sleep, like Sera, theyâre all still very much afraid, but itâs more in line with the âoh shit momâs home early and she saw the mess we made in the kitchen, sheâs gonna kill us!â kind of fear.
- The fact that they sent exorcists at you makes you even angrier. Like for starters, how fucking weak do they think you are that you could be stopped by just some low level Angelic beings with pointy sticks?? And then the audacity to even attack you to begin with, like THEY werenât the ones who fucked up and youâre just some kind of strange intruder needing to be slain?? The INDIGNITY of it all!
- Your voice booms throughout Heaven, making even the ground tremble at the sheer intensity of it. âWHO DID IT?â Youâre met with only silence, so you ask again with more force. âMY REALM IS A COMPLETE MESS WITH MILLIONS OF DISPLACED SOULS RIGHT NOW. SO AGAIN I ASK, WHICH ONE OF YOU FLAT FOOT CHILDREN DID THIS?!â
- Sera replies, voice trembling slightly. âAreâŚAre you talking about the exterminations? âIF THAT IS WHAT YOUâRE CALLING THIS MOCKERY OF MY WORK, THEN YES.â Sera looks visibly confused and concerned. âButâŚThat SHOULDNâT be possible!âŚThe exterminations KILL the Sinners; their souls should be gone, not stuck in Limbo! There has to be some kind of mistake here!â
- Hearing this, you canât help but let out a brief but harsh cackle, making the ground jolt from the abruptness. âDEAR YOU HONESTLY THINK A SOUL COULD BE SO EASY TO DESTROY? A SOUL IS A POWERFUL THING FOR A REASON CHILD, IF THEY WERE SO EASILY DESTROYED THEN NONE OF YOU WOULD BE STANDING HERE BEFORE ME NOW!âŚSO ONCE AGAIN, WHO. DID. THIS?! AND SO HELP ME, IF I HAVE TO ASK AGAIN THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES.â
- Whilst Sera is dumbfounded by this revelation, Adam sees a golden opportunity to save his ass and points at Sera. âI-It was her! Yeah it was all fucking HER idea! I-I tried to tell her it was stupid, b-but she just REALLY wanted to go down and kill those bast- Demons! Yeah she REALLY wanted to kill all those poor Demons, can ya fucking believe this shit?!â
- Before Sera can defend herself, the darkness seems to intensify, and she can just FEEL every one of your eyes glaring daggers into her. âSERAâŚYOU SIGNED OFF ON THIS?? YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF, I EXPECTED SO MUCH BETTER FROM YOU! I LEFT EXPLICIT INSTRUCTIONS FOR HEAVEN AND HELL TO WORK TOGETHER TO SORT SOULS FOR THIS VERY REASON! AND NOW BECAUSE OF THESE BARBARIC âEXTERMINATIONSâ, YOUâVE COMPLETELY DESTROYED THE BALANCE I WORKED SO HARD TO CREATE AND MAINTAIN. I HOPE YOUâRE PROUD OF YOURSELF, BECAUSE IâM CERTAINLY NOT!â
- Itâs a strange and mildly amusing sight to see the head seraph get scolded like a misbehaving child by this massive dark entity. But here we are anyway!
- At one point during the tongue lashing youâre giving to your niece, Emily buts in and asks for an explanation for whatâs going on; having not heard Seraâs previous explanation to Adam apparently.
- Your temper flares for a brief moment, and you just about launched into another lecture at the little shit who DARED interrupt you. But upon seeing Emily, you softened considerably, seeing that she was young and TRULY didnât understand what was happening.
- âAHâŚI APOLOGIZE DEAR, BUT I DONâT THINK I RECOGNIZE YOUâŚCOME CLOSER LITTLE ONE SO I CAN SEE YOU.â You slowly crouch down and lower your hand, offering Emily to climb onto it. Emily is hesitant, obviously a bit scared of you. But Sera encourages her to go to you, she knows that you wonât hurt Emily and itâs high time she meets her aunt anyway.
- With the small seraph in hand, you stand back up to your full height and bring her closer to your face. Now FINALLY able to see her properly, you speak. âYOUâRE FAIRLY YOUNG FOR A SERAPHâŚYOU MUSTâVE BEEN BORN DURING MY SLUMBER, AND IN THAT CASE I APOLOGIZE THIS HAD TO BE OUR FIRST MEETING. TELL ME, WHAT IS YOUR NAME CHILD?â
- Her voice trembling slightly, Emily tells you her name and then asks who you are and asks if youâre a seraph like her and Sera. The innocent question gets a genuine laugh out of you, and despite it shaking the ground itâs a lovely sound. âOH CHILD, I AM FAR FROM BEING A SERAPH. THOUGH I CAN SEE WHY YOU WOULD THINK THAT. YOU WERE ALL MADE IN MY IMAGE AFTER ALL.â
- Seeing the visible confusion on Emilyâs face, you elaborated. âLONG AGO, YOUR FATHER WANTED TO SHOW HIS APPRECIATION OF ME. SO FOR HIS FIRST SENTIENT CREATIONS, THE SERAPHIM, HE BASED THEM ALL ON ME.â Emily looks surprised, and follows up by asking how you know God.
- You give another genuine laugh at her question. âSWEETY IâM HIS YOUNGER SISTER, I AM âDEATHâ, THE GODDESS OF WELLâŚDEATH. BUT YOU CAN CALL ME âDâ OR âAUNT Dâ, MOST OF YOUR SIBLINGS DO.â Emilyâs mind is blown âWait! YOUâRE aunt D?! Sera told me all kinds of stories about you before you went to sleep, like the time you got into an argument with Father over his invention of the âSnuggieâ. I never thought Iâd get to meet you!â
- âIT WAS LITERALLY JUST A BATHROBE YOU WORE BACKWARDS, AND I STILL CANâT BELIEVE HE THOUGHT THAT WAS AT ALL CLEVER.â You huff, feeling amusement and mild irritation at that memory.
- âSPEAKING OF YOUR FATHER, WHERE IS HE?â Sera speaks up, having managed to recollect herself, and explains that no one has seen or heard a word from God since before you went to sleep.
- The irritated snarl that leaves your throat sounds like thunder and shakes the ground, making everyone tremble with fear. âTHAT LAZY BASTARD HAD ONE FUCKING JOB, WATCH HIS DAMN KIDS, AND HE COULDNâT EVEN DO THAT?! NO WONDER THIS ALL HAPPENED THEN, HE LEFT YOU ALL UNSUPERVISED!â
- Bending over, you carefully set Emily down before standing back up. âI HATE TO CUT MY INTRODUCTION SHORT, BUT APPARENTLY I NEED TO GO AND HAVE A LITTLE CHAT WITH YOUR FATHER.â You stare pointedly at Sera and continue. âDONâT THINK THIS MEANS YOUâRE ENTIRELY OFF THE HOOK EITHER. WHILE YES, YOUR FATHERâS ABSENCE IS MOSTLY TO BLAME FOR THIS DEBACLE, YOU ALSO KNOW BETTER THAN TO DO SUCH TERRIBLE THINGS. WE WILL BE DISCUSSING THIS MORE ONCE I FINISH WITH YOUR FATHER, AND IF I COME BACK AND FIND OUT YOU HELD ANY MORE OF THESE âEXTERMINATIONSâ I WILL TURN YOU INTO A HOLLOW! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?â Looking at the ground, Sera nods and says âYes Auntie DâŚâ
- Satisfied with that response, you bid everyone farewell and slowly melt back into the ground, completely disappearing. Once youâre gone, the sunlight is back and itâs as if you were never there.
- Now the seraphim have to soothe the murmuring crowd while Sera starts attempting to get in contact with Lucifer to let him know that âHey Aunt D found out about the exterminations and is NOT happy about it. She just got done yelling at me, and now sheâs on her way to go read Father the riot act. Just warning you now because once sheâs done with him, youâre probably gonna be next.â
- Lucifer receives the message and is now frantically trying to create peace offerings in hopes theyâll make you more amicable, while also preemptively planning his own funeral in case the peace offerings donât work.
- Meanwhile in Godâs palace, God is currently relaxing in an elaborate hot tub and watching American football on an absurdly large TV whilst drinking wine like itâs water. Heâs pretty drunk and having a grand time yelling at the TV.
- His fun is interrupted through by you literally kicking in the door and storming in, youâve shrunken down to your smaller size so all your features are actually visible now and not covered in darkness as you glare at your older brother with an intensity that could peel paint.
- God startled momentarily before seeing itâs you and giving you a dopey smile. Heâs also in his smaller form, so that makes things slightly easier for you. âOhhh heeeyyy Death!âŚYou startled me thereeeâŚItâzzzz beeen awhillle, huh?â You scoff at his slurred speech, in disbelief that he could be so drunk right now.
- âYes, it HAS been awhile. Good to see that you still choose to spend your days getting completely wasted instead of tending to your children.â You answer tersely, and God rolls his eyes. âZzstill the saaame old ssstuck up bitchâŚTha kidzz are fahine Deee! Yyyoou should cohme haave ah drink wib meee.â
- You ignore Godâs offer for a drink and cut right to the chase. âNo, your kids are NOT fine! When was the last time you checked in on them?! Do you even know what theyâre up to right now??!â God dismissively waves his hand and chugs more wine. âI juzzt checked on thhhem ah couple decades aghooo..Theyârrre prohably makinnn neeewh liffe.â
- âGod that is a load of shit, and you know it! I was JUST down in Heaven, and the seraphim told me that you havenât seen or spoken to ANY of them since I left to take my nap eons ago! And furthermore, while youâve been in here drinking the day away, your children have COMPLETELY destroyed the balance we created! Theyâve been mass slaughtering Demons annually for millennia now, and Limbo is a complete disaster right now because of this!â Hearing this, God looks down at his bottle of whine, embarrassed, and mumbles an awkward âohâ.
- Silence hangs heavy in the air for a moment before God clears his throat and says. âZzsoooâŚYouârrree NNOT gooing to drink wiff me?â At this you snap and snatch the wine bottle from God and chuck it at the TV, smashing the bottle and the TV. God shouts in anger but before he can ask you wtf that was for, you just lay into him. Calling him a deadbeat and pathetic excuse of a deity.
- âHow can you just sit in here day after day, while your CHILDREN are out there causing such mayhem! Do you not love your children all??!â God is shouting back at you, his anger having sobered him up some so heâs not slurring as much. âHow DARE you accuse me of not loving my children! I would giive ANYTHING for them and you know that!â
- âThen fucking ACT like it!! Donât just sit in here and rot your mind with booze and TV!â God growls. âI donât need you to tell meee how to handle my children! Why do you even care?! Itâzzz not like theyâre yours anyway!â
- âI care because they are part of MY family, and I want my family to be safe and happy, something that you couldnât give less of a shit about apparently!â God throws his hands up at this point âWell what do you want from me Death, go hhhold their handz?! My children are ALL capable of thinking and being on their own, they donât NEED me to do shit for them!â
- âThat doesnât mean that they donât still need you there emotionally! But with the way you act maybe itâs best you ARE never there! After all, what use could any of them get from your pathetic drunk ass!!â This clearly struck a nerve as God points back at the door you came in through and roars at you to get the fuck out of his house. Growling, you give a harsh âFine!â and tell him he can sit and be a drunk deadbeat all he wants because youâre done with him and his shit, and heâs NEVER to contact you again unless itâs in regards to his children or business.
- You stomp out of Godâs palace and return to Limbo, wanting to start working on getting things cleaned up and cool off some before you go check on things in Hell.
- Once youâre gone though, God slumps his shoulders and hangs his head. With your venomous words echoing his head, he summons another bottle of wine and begins chugging it while he trudges into his bedchambers.
- He flops down onto the bed and picks up a framed photo and slowly brings it closer to his face. Itâs an old photo, one taken shortly after God created the first few seraphim. You and God are both standing next to each other, arms around each otherâs shoulders and leaning in close while the first seraphim all stand in between the two of you. Everyone is absolutely beaming, and God looks especially happy; so proud of his creations.
- Tears drop onto the photo as God remembers how things used to be back then, back when he was actually NEEDED by those around him and wasnât just some brand figure whoâs only job is to smile and wave. Even as he slowly sets the photo down, tears continue to fall and he holds his head in his hands. ââŚIâm sorry Iâm so damn uselessâŚHopefully youâll forgive me somedayâŚNot that I deserve it thoughâŚIâmâŚso fucking sorryâŚâ No one is there to hear Godâs sobs, and eventually he passes out. Heâd rather be dreaming of happier times anyway.
#damn this ended up being WAY longer than i intended#and with a bit of angst no less!#god isnât a bad guy heâs just SUPER depressed and suffering an existential crisis#basically after creating the angelic beings he didnât really have to do anything anymore#because the angels were able to create and think on their own#so there isnât really anything for god to do now because the angels can do it themselves#with so much time on his hands he started questioning his existence and what he was even meant to do#he feels completely useless because he truly believes that if he isnât constantly creating things then he has no purpose#he deals with this by holing up in his palace and drinking himself silly and getting high#he has not told you this primarily because he doesnât know how#heâs much like his son lucifer in that heâs not great at discussing his feelings#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x death! reader#death reader#i like to imagine the seraphim have a group chat and sera just posts in it like âaunt d found out about the exorcisms. weâre all dead.â#and it starts blowing up with everyone freaking out and trying to figure out wtf theyâre gonna do#lucifer is preparing for the ass whooping youâre gonna give him
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Just a "little" rant about something I need to get off my chest. And a moment of just yapping about my kitty đĽş
It's crazy to me how there are people who think all cats are evil, they can't love their owners, and they are vicious little demons (something someone said to me in real life about my own cat). And I'm like? What?
My cat spends his whole day curled up in my lap or hugging me because he can't stand not cuddling with me. My cat has never bitten me or scratched me on purpose. My cat brings me his toys to play fetch with. My cat can literally say my name. My cat follows me everywhere I go, and if I go somewhere he can't, he cries. When I go to work in the morning he sits at the door and waits for me (but my younger sister will pick him up and distract him for a bit). He gives me lots of nose boops (with his nose or paw). He likes to wrap his front legs around my neck in a hug, and rest his head under my chin.
He knows when I'm sad, and if I'm crying he will put the top of his head to my forehead and pur until I stop crying and then cuddle with me.
How is this a vicious demon? How is this evil? What do you mean he doesn't care about me?
Honestly, he understands me more than most people do.
Now, I know most cats aren't completely like this, but even the grumpy and sassy ones love their owners.
So what I'm saying is: cats have emotions, cats can love, and cats care. They are just as precious as dogs and don't deserve to be treated the way they are. They deserve love and compassion too. They are wonderful creatures that God created and blessed us with.
Now, I understand that a cat may not be the right fit for you, and that's okay! They aren't for everyone. Just like dogs aren't for everyone. I'm specifically talking about people who hate them with no valid reason. Like I know someone who hates cats because he knew one cat that didn't like him, but he literally mistreated the cat. What did you expect?
You all are missing out on having a wonderful companion.
So please don't believe that cats are evil little demons! And please never call someone's beloved pet/best friend a demon. Thank you đŤś
This isn't here to offend anyone, but hopefully help someone understand cats more. And cat owners too lol
#wow#this was longer than i meant for it to be#i love my kitty so much#đĽşđĽşđĽş#he saved me and i saved him đĽş#he is my best friend.#i love him so so much#and i thank God eveyday for putting him in my path đĽşđĽş#faith's little rambles#cats
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to the surprise of approximately no one, i am thinking about video game mechanics and mcrp and c!owen and violence again. i am thinking about interesting accidental resonances and i am thinking about what someone's medium of choice makes it easy to tell stories about. the thing is, owen's pov of outsiders is a story that, despite being told almost exclusively in minecraft, really does not want to be a story set in minecraft.
what i mean by this is that cc!owen repeatedly and deliberately tries to prevent minecraft logic from existing in the story he is telling. according to him, things operate in the messy space of real-world physics, and the fundamental structure of the world aligns much more with our reality than with, i dunno, a series of 1s and 0s. of course they can't climb the vines to get to the top of the walls, they'd get tired well before the reach the top, never mind that minecraft doesn't have any mechanic in place to keep you from clinging to a vine for as long as you want. of course acho drowning during the underwater maze game could have been from something being wrong with the potions, never mind that minecraft potions come out the exact same way every time. of course it matters that owen punched mohwee for going into the maze, but only once, because he couldn't bring himself to do it again. never mind that a punch in minecraft rarely means much.
a single punch in minecraft doesn't mean anything. or it means almost everything, which is why it doesn't mean anything. but the outsiders, at least for a little while, make a world where a punch matters, where it's the kind of thing you go running to tell other people about because it means a real fight's brewing. mohwee punches graecie, and someone comes running to let owen know. we're meant to react to it the way we would if it happened irl. we're treating this seriously now!
except that's really hard to do in minecraft, because minecraft isn't a game that gives you many avenues for... body language. for the kind of nonverbal communication you do by touching someone gently. try as they might to pretend otherwise, it is built into the bones of any minecraft world that the only way you can touch another person for sure, in a way that the game has an obvious mechanical system in place to respond with, is by punching them. so two things here.
one is that yeah, the outsiders creators stop acting like a punch is a punch not super long into the series, because there is no vanilla mechanic for [grabbing you by the arm and dragging you away from the gates]; you have to use what you have at your disposal (such as the left-click button on your mouse) to gesture at the thing you actually mean. owen emulates the act of dragging someone around by punching magic at one point. nobody, in-universe or out, reacts like he was actually hitting her, and i'm not saying we should. but there is that disconnect between what the story is supposed to be (maybe owen pushes her away from the gates, maybe he's trying to pull her back), and what the game will allow them to do.
two: despite the ways that the game runs counter to the kind of story owen et al. are trying to tell, this limitation wrt punching still produces some really interesting resonances that require us to accept and pay attention to the fact that no matter what owen says, this is a story told through minecraft, inflected by its mechanics.
(side bar: i'm focusing on owen for this, but i think you can expand this idea to other characters, maybe the whole cast, by thinking about how both the story world and the game world are, on some fundamental level, set up to not allow for kind or gentle connections between people. you can't actually put your arm around someone else. you can't actually wipe away their tears or lean on their shoulder. the entire world the outsiders live inside of, both from a game perspective and a roleplay perspective, is designed to funnel them toward big dramatic gestures and cyclical violence. the easiest way to touch someone is violently. and still, there are the gestures of care, carved out of what the game will allow. sharing food. speaking softly to each other. opening the trapdoor to your bunker and letting the people behind you hurry down the ladder to hide. so you've never learned how to touch someone without violence. you can still know how to put your whole body between the person you care for and the danger. you can still die for them. isn't outsiders such a story of caring, despite, despite, despite?)
anyway. about c!owen. i think it's fair to say he's a character shaped by violence from the jump. he comes up the elevator and is almost instantly making and hoarding weapons. he tells himself he has to protect everyone, and the first two ways he decides to do this are by making a sparring ring where he intends to teach them to fight, and by threatening to break their legs. for the latter half of the series, he is literally sleeping on the edge of a sparring ring, all his personal effects literally pushed off to the side to leave room for this sand pit in the middle. even before he gets the memories of his time as a soldier back, we can see that this is how he interfaces with and understands the world. violence is in his bones.
as a result, i am kind of crazy about the fact that the literal game mechanics he engages with reinforce this image of him. there's this brief period of time really early on where i guess they haven't really got the prox chat range to yell to each other from a distance, and owen decides to take his weapon of choice and fire an arrow in the path of the person he's trying to talk to. (i know for sure he does this with rasbi and with at least one other person. forgive me, i don't recall who the other person was.) when you're getting shot at, yeah, you sure do generally want to look in the direction that arrow came from to see who's trying to shoot you! that'll get someone's attention! that is generally how people play the game!
at another point much later in his series, a group of outsiders find an enormous crane towering over a section of the maze, and owen pulls out a bow and aims it upward. it took me a second while watching to realize that it's because when you draw a bow in the game, you also zoom in on the thing you're aiming at. owen was trying to get a closer look at the crane, so he grabbed his weapon and used it to get a better understanding of the world.
more broadly, owen uses spears and arrows to point at things, to check distances and investigate stuff he doesn't want to or can't get close to. when he and magic first notice ash up on the walls, he fires arrows up at her, not really to hit but to see how she reacts. then he keeps firing them, having noticed the barrier blocks (in-fiction, the screen that makes up the false sky). later, while talking to chat in a high-up part of the maze, he demonstrates again that the sky is fake by hurling a spear into it.
out of character, these are just creative workarounds for the medium's limitations. in character, however, these instances make it clear that every single thing about the way owen interacts with his world is coloured by the fact that he has used weapons and will continue to use them, that his reaching for a bow right after waking up wasn't some fluke, that even with his memories wiped out he is a character who has been trained to reach for violence before anything else.
just by playing the game, cc!owen adds another dimension to this character, because he is playing a game where There Exist game mechanics meant to facilitate violence, and this is about the cycles of violence c!owen finds himself trapped in and perpetuating and it is also about how violence is so deeply ingrained in him that it is an inextricable part of his world.
#sparrowsong#outsiders smp#hey. hi. i have a lot of feelings about this topic that i've been meaning to write up for ages#waving my hands around. do you get it? do you get what i'm saying?#this... came out longer than i meant for it to#and there's still a whole separate thing one could write about... unconventional and roundabout ways of expressing care#as enforced by both the way the medium works and the in-universe starr people who are interested in pitting these people against each other#iiii will not be writing that one though. (unless?)#i think one more thing i really want to post from my outsiders watch and then. i will be free. and i can watch more stuff.#god there's so much outsiders stuff to watch.
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leave your crown behind
part 3 of lonely town part 1 // part 2 cw: parental abuse; emotional breakdown; unintentional self-harm; nsfw
Wayne is getting ready for work when the phone rings.
Eddie listens from where heâs laying on the sofa, book in his hands, and he lowers the book curiously when he hears, âOh, hi, Steve.â
Wayne hasnât met Steve yet. Heâs heard all about him (Eddie canât shut up, apparently), but heâs never been home when Steveâs come over, and Eddie hasnât been able to introduce them. Figures theyâd meet each other themselves over the phone.
Eddie watches, half-smiling as Wayneâs expression softens. He always looks so serious, a crease perpetually between his eyebrows, but as he listens to whatever Steve is saying, the crease fades and he looks at the ground. But then it comes back, and he frowns.
âYeah, heâs here,â he says. âWhatâs goinâ on, are you alright?â
Eddie sits up, closing his book as worry bundles in his chest. Wayneâs always been good at picking up on stuff like this, at knowing Eddieâs had a bad day just by glancing at him. He doesnât know how he does it.
âOf course you can come over, boy,â Wayne says, his voice softer than it usually is. âYou donât gotta ask, alright? You come on over.â
Eddie frowns as he watches Wayne nod as though Steve can see him.
âYou need me to come pick you up?â
Eddieâs eyes widen, and he stands, the book falling to the ground.
âWhatâs going on?â he asks anxiously when heâs closer to Wayne, but Wayne doesnât answer him. Instead he just sets a hand on his shoulder and squeezes gently, the way he does when he reassures Eddie that heâs okay, that heâs going to pass a test heâs worried about. Eddie holds his forearm, still watching as Wayne listens to Steve. âThatâs alright, then, you come over. âŚAlright. See you soon, darlinâ.â
âWhatâs going on?â Eddie asks anxiously as Wayne hangs the phone back up.
âSteve had a disagreement with his father,â Wayne says gently. âHeâs real upset.â
Eddie furrows his brows, frowning, and Wayne rubs his arm.
âHeâs on his way over,â he says. âHe didnât wanna be home, so heâs cominâ over here. Heâll be alright.â
Eddie exhales a soft okay, and Wayne nods to the sofa because he knows Eddie would stand there by the door until Steve shows up.
Wayne beats him to the door when they hear Steveâs car pull up, and Eddie stands, twisting a ring anxiously as Wayne opens the door and smiles softly as Steve comes up the steps.
And then Eddie is watching Wayne reach an arm out and pull Steve into a hug, and Steve is hugging him back, arms wrapping around his waist, hiding his face in his shoulder. His hands are shaking.
âYou alright?â Wayne asks gently. âYouâre not hurt, are you?â
âNo,â Steve says, his voice trembling and muffled by Wayneâs shoulder. âHe didnâtâ He didnât hit me or anything, just⌠Said stuff.â
âAlright,â Wayne says softly, running a hand over the top of his hand fondly, and Eddieâs chest aches, and heâs falling in love.
He comes close and touches one of Steveâs hands, and Steve opens his eyes, looking at him over Wayneâs shoulder, twisting his hand to lace their fingers and squeeze. His eyes are glistening, and Eddie wants to scream. He wants to know what the fuck Steveâs dad said, but he doesnât ask. He just moves closer, around Wayne, to kiss Steveâs shoulder and whisper, ââS okay.â
âGod, sorry,â Steve chokes after a moment.
âYou donât gotta be sorry,â Wayne and Eddie say simultaneously, and Steve lets out a laugh, sniffling and squeezing Eddieâs hand again.
âI see where you get it,â Steve says lightly to Eddie, pulling away and releasing Eddieâs hand to wipe his face. Eddie watches fondly. Heâs smiling a little bit.
âYou wanna tell us what happened?â Wayne asks gently, holding Steveâs shoulder and squeezing it. Steve sniffles and looks at him, blinking his glassy eyes as he hesitates before he speaks.
âHeâs just⌠not very nice to me.â
Wayne nods understandingly, and he squeezes Steveâs arm.
âYou donât have to worry about him here, alright?â
Steve looks at him, and he looks like heâs going to cry again before he nods.
âThank you, Mr Munson.â
Wayne snorts, shaking his head and laughing lightly.
âJust Wayne, Steve,â he says, touching Steveâs face. âNo need for formalities.â
He goes to make Steve tea, and Eddie pulls Steve to the sofa. Steve falls against him heavily, burying his face in Eddieâs neck as he exhales, and Eddie reaches to cradle the back of his head, closing his eyes and pulling him closer. Steve goes easily, sighing as he rests against Eddie, wrapping his arms around his waist.
âGot so worried,â Eddie murmurs softly.
ââM sorry,â Steve mumbles.
âNot your fault, sweetheart.â He runs his fingers through Steveâs hair and kisses his head, smiling when he tightens his arms around him. âLong as youâre okay.â
âIâm okay,â Steve whispers, and then, â...I missed you.â
âWe saw each other at school yesterday,â Eddie says quietly, playing with his hair, scratching his neck lightly. Heâs still smiling. He loves how clingy Steve is sometimes, how desperate he seems just to touch Eddie, to hug him and stay in his arms.
âSeeing you isnât enough,â he complains weakly. Eddie kisses his head again.
âIâm right here, Stevie, you got me.â
Steve lifts his legs up onto the sofa, curling into Eddieâs chest and groaning softly, tucking himself into a ball, small as he can be. Eddie pets his hair softly, resting his cheek on top of his head, and within seconds, Steveâs breathing is slow and heavy, and Eddie smiles.
âHe fell asleep,â he tells Wayne quietly when Wayne comes back with the mug of steaming tea. He sees Wayneâs eyes soften, and he sets the mug on the table next to the sofa, within Eddieâs reach, before he crosses the room and gets a blanket from the basket on the other side of the sofa. Eddieâs chest feels warm as Wayne comes back and drapes it over Steve gently, tenderly. They both watch as Steve sighs, pressing his face into Eddieâs chest and relaxing, melting against him. Eddie is smiling.
âYou love him,â Wayne says softly.
Eddie looks up at him, blinking, and his smile falters.
He wants to argue. Itâs only been a few weeks since that day, since they skipped detention and made their plans in the back of Eddieâs van. Since Steve pulled him into a desperate kiss and climbed onto his lap and wrote his phone number on the back of Eddieâs hand. A few weeks isnât nearly long enough for that word, for love.
Itâs only been a few weeks that theyâve met each otherâs eyes in the hallway and lingered just to ask how class was, how a test went. One a few weeks that theyâve slipped notes into each otherâs lockers: things like come to mine at 6? and wanna make you dinner tonight. A few weeks that theyâve kissed each other good night, leaning through doorways and smiling and whispering Iâll see you tomorrow. A few weeks that theyâve ignored the lingering stares and raised eyebrows and hushed whispers of gossip and rumors because itâs worth it to look at each other in the daylight. Because itâll be worth it in a little over a year, when Steve graduates and they can finally leave.
Itâs only been a few weeks. Itâs too soon for⌠That.
So Eddie scoffs lightly, even as he caresses the back of Steveâs head.
âCâmon, Wayne,â he says, and Wayne sees right through him, raising his eyebrows and smiling.
âEds,â he says calmly, reaching down to push his hair back. Eddie looks up at him, blinking, and he feels so small suddenly, like Wayne could squish him like a beetle. But Wayneâs eyes are kind like they always are, soft and gentle as he looks down at Eddie like he did when he was nine, when he moved into the trailer and was scared to sleep alone and scared to call Wayne by his name. â...Itâs okay to love him.â
Eddie blinks again. His breaths are short, and his hands still on Steve, freezing, the words rushing over him like rain.
âThereâs nothinâ wrong with that,â Wayne says softly. âAlright?â
Eddie stares up at him, taking a slow breath as Wayne blurs in his vision, and he nods.
Wayne stoops down and kisses his forehead softly.
âIâm goinâ to work. You know who to call if thereâs an emergency.â
âDrive safe,â Eddie finally says, watching him go, putting on his work boots and grabbing his keys from the hook by the door.
âAlways,â Wayne responds like he always does.
Itâs quiet when heâs gone. Itâs always quiet when heâs gone. If Eddie is honest, itâs what got him into music. Something to fill the air, something to distract his young mind from the absence, from the ache of the loneliness. He started with Wayneâs music, some Status Quo, some Rolling Stones, some Humble Pie and Lynyrd Skynyrd and Grateful Dead, until it wasnât a comfort thing anymore. It was just the way it was. When it was quiet, there was music. And Eddie found himself biking to the music store in town and spending his time there, looking through records and listening to whatever was playing. And then one day he was admiring the art on one album, and he froze, staring at it as he listened to the song that was playing. It was intense, and a little fast, and as it was ending, Eddie was headed to the owner of the store to ask who it was. Black Sabbath, the man had told him. Children of the Grave. And Eddie bought Masters of Reality with the first payment he got from dealing that year. Embryo was the first song he taught himself to play.
He remembers playing it in his room, practicing and practicing and practicing while Wayne was off at work, trying over and over again until he had to hold his hand in the freezer, his forehead resting between the magnets on the door of it as he hummed the song to himself. Wayne came home one day to find him still practicing, and Eddie thought he would be in trouble for staying up into the early hours of the morning, but Wayne had just lingered in the doorway, watching and listening with his arms crossed. And heâd told Eddie he was good. Really good. And then he told him to go to bed.
Eddie got a weekend job at the music store. The owner, Morgan, was nice. He didnât look at Eddie like everyone else did, even when he found out about the dealing. He knew how it was, how it needed to be just to make some extra money. When Eddie mentioned he was saving up for a car, Morgan offered his own van. Lord knows I donât need it anymore. âS just collecting dust. Eddie had cried. The only requirement was that Eddie pass his driverâs test. Which he did. Eventually.
Morgan moved away from Hawkins a year and a half ago. The building that used to be his music store is a video store now. Eddie doesnât go there.
Anyway.
Itâs quiet when Wayne is gone.
Usually Eddie would be going to put on some music, or plug in his guitar to play his own, but heâs content here, listening to Steve breathe.
Which maybe could say something about what Wayne said. Eddie ignores it.
He sips the tea that Wayne made so it doesnât go to waste, combing through Steveâs hair gently, and when itâs dark, he turns on the lamp next to them. Steve doesnât like the dark.
Heâd mentioned it once during a long phone call. Eddie had been sitting on the washing machine, leaning against the wall so the cord could reach him, holding the phone with both hands as he listened to Steve tell him about the most recent basketball game theyâd had. He hadnât noticed how dark it had gotten, how late it had become, until Steveâs speech trailed off into stutters and Uhms. Eddie asked if he was okay. Steve asked if he could go for just a second. Eddie said yes. When Steve came back, he told Eddie he just had to turn the light on in his room. The dark, like⌠I donât know. Fucks with my head.
Eddie leaves his curtain open now. His window is small, but it lets in enough moonlight that heâs always covered it up, and Steveâs never even spent the night at the trailer, but he does it anyway. Because Steve doesnât like the dark.
Steve stirs after a while. He sighs and shifts against Eddieâs chest, nuzzling into him before he lets out a soft groan.
âHey, Stevie.â
âMm.â
âYou donât have to wake up if you donât want to,â Eddie murmurs, smiling. âI got you.â
âMm. âS okay.â
Steve sighs again, his body tightening for a moment before he relaxes, and then he moves to rest his back against the armrest of the sofa, stretching his legs across Eddieâs lap. Eddie keeps an arm around him, set across his shoulder to play with his hair, and Steve reaches for his other hand to play with his fingers. He likes doing that. Eddie can see him eye them when theyâre in the hallways at school, and he wishes he could let him there, in front of everyone. The same way he would if one of them was a girl.
âHow do you feel?â Eddie asks softly. The light is behind Steveâs head, and if Eddie were to lean forward a little and turn to look at him, it would light up the back of his head like a halo. Steve shrugs, watching their hands as he traces the indents around Eddieâs fingers that his rings usually go in.
âFine,â he whispers quietly. Lying.
âStevie,â Eddie whispers. âYou wanna tell me what happened?â
Steve is quiet for a moment, tracing lines down Eddieâs fingers so lightly it tickles a little. Eddie doesnât mind. He swallows before he speaks, his voice so soft Eddie almost has to strain to hear him.
â...He called me a fag.â
Eddieâs stomach falls. He twists their fingers together and pulls gently, prompting Steve to look up at him.
âIâm sorry,â he whispers. But Steve shakes his head.
âHe didnât⌠He doesnât know. Aboutâ About me. He was just⌠talking.â His voice shakes. âBut if he⌠If he found out, IâŚâ
âHeâs not going to,â Eddie assures him gently, leaning forward. âOkay? He wonât know, and then weâre gonna get out of here.â
Steve smiles weakly, but he still looks so tired. He lifts his chin.
âCan I have a kiss?â he whispers.
âAlways,â Eddie whispers back.
He kisses him. Steve lets go of his hand to hold his face, his palms to Eddieâs cheeks, and Eddie thinks the lines of Steveâs palms are maps that he could follow forever. The kiss is soft, and Eddie tilts his head, pushing his fingers into Steveâs hair and tugging gently, the way Steve likes, as he sets his other arm across Steveâs lap. He slips his fingertips under the hem of his shirt.
Steve is smiling when they part, his thumbs stroking Eddieâs cheeks softly.
âI feel better,â he murmurs.
Eddie smiles back.
âStay with me tonight,â he whispers. âWe have spare toothbrushes. You can wear some of my clothes.â
âOkay.â
The next time they kiss, it tastes like mint toothpaste and Steve is wearing a faded and worn AC/DC shirt. He holds Eddieâs hand as they nestle under the blankets.
âDo you want me to turn a lamp on?â Eddie whispers.
Steve just smiles, half hidden by the too-soft pillow heâs laying on.
âNo, âs okay. Youâre bright enough.â
Eddie snorts even though his cheeks flush with warmth.
âThat was awful.â
âShhhâŚâ Steve shushes him, pulling at his hand so Eddie sets his arm across his waist, smiling. He closes his eyes. âSleepy time.â
Eddie smiles, slipping his hand under the hem of the shirt and stroking his soft skin. Steveâs hands curl between them, and their legs tangle.
âGoodnight, baby,â Eddie murmurs. Steve just hums in response, already drifting off.
Eddie gazes at him in the dark, in the thin moonlight thatâs just bright enough to see when his eyes adjust. His hair is pushed out of his face, off his neck, and his resting face is soft, almost vulnerable looking. He looks so young like this, sleeping peacefully, his cheek and lips squishing against the pillow. Eddie traces lines between his moles with his gaze. He thinks they could solve the mysteries of the universe.
Wayne was right.
Eddie ignores it, the fact that Wayne read him like a goddamn book, the fact that Wayne noticed it before Eddie did himself. He doesnât say anything.
Steve sleeps over more often when his parents are in town. Wayne doesnât mind. Of course he doesnât mind. He adores Steve now, and Eddie thinks he did before he even met him. But they bond over stupid sports that Eddie never understood or found interesting in the slightest, and sometimes Eddie sits on the floor in the living room while they watch a game, pretending to read a book just so he can listen to them. They canât see him smile when he sits down here.
Nobody knows about it. Eddie keeps a secret, not quite locked away inside his chest (because itâs not something that can be contained like that. It would seep through the cracks, shine through the keyhole.) but kept inside him. He knows it probably shines through when he looks at Steve. Wayne knows it. Sometimes Eddie thinks the fucking lockers at school can tell.
But Steve still talks with him in the hallways, despite the judging eyes of the other students and the lockers, despite the way Eddie looks at him like heâs the rising sun. He still holds Eddieâs hand while they watch movies, plays with his fingers because he canât keep still, still kisses him like he needs the air from his lungs to breathe.
â â â â â
Eddie gets worried after three days without hearing from Steve. Itâs a Friday. Steve always comes over on Fridays now that they donât see each other every day at school. He comes over and does his homework in the living room and smiles when Wayne goes off to work, and he and Eddie make dinner with enough for leftovers for Wayne.
But he isnât at Eddieâs tonight. And he didnât call yesterday, or the day before to say hi. And Eddie is driving to Steveâs before he can think himself out of it, before it can occur to him that maybe Tommy Hagan is at his house, or somebody might see him there. Or something.
Steveâs Beemer is in the driveway. Thereâs a dry patch under it despite the rain this week.
Eddie knocks on the door. He waits. He knocks again. He waits. He knocks again. He calls Steveâs name. He knocks again. And again.
It finally opens after another minute, and Steve is there in the doorway, wearing sweatpants and one of Eddieâs shirts, and thereâs a bruise on his cheek. Itâs purple and green and blue, and somewhere in the colors thereâs a sharp red mark, like itâs painted on his skin. Eddie exhales, looking at him.
Thereâs a storm inside his chest.
âWhat the fuck,â he breathes.
Steve blinks at him.
He looks so⌠blank. Like he hasnât even processed Eddie standing here. Heâs still holding the door.
âSteve?â Eddie says softly.
Steve blinks again. His eyes focus on Eddie, and he inhales.
âHi.â
Eddie looks at him, at the bruise, at the blank shine of his eyes, the too-light expression on his face.
âSteve, did your dad hit you?â he asks bluntly. It takes a moment for Steve to respond, and then he nods.
âMhmm.â
Eddie nods, looking at the bruise. His heart is beating too fast, pounding in his chest, and his hands start to shake.
âIs he here?â
Another pause.
âNo.â
âWhere is he?â
Eddie will kill him. Heâll search all of Hawkins. Heâll hunt him down.
â...New York,â Steve says softly, like heâs just realized it. Eddie swallows, exhaling slowly. He needs to calm down. Steve is somewhere in his head, floating above the ground, and he needs Eddie. His eyes drift to the ground, unfocusing.
âSteve,â Eddie says gently. Steve blinks, looking at him again. âYou wanna go inside? I can get you some ice.â
Steve exhales, his eyes flickering across Eddieâs face.
âI hate him,â he says softly.
Eddie nods. His eyes burn.
âMe too,â he breathes.
Steve is quiet for a moment.
âI hate him,â he says again.
Eddie just looks at him. His eyes look like theyâre clearing, but heâs shaking now, his hands trembling by his sides.
âI hate him. I hate him.â
âSteve,â Eddie says softly. âLetâs go inside.â
âI hate him,â Steve says, his voice stronger, adamant, like Eddie is arguing with him. âI hate him.â
âI know, baby,â Eddie breathes.
âI hate him,â Steve says, louder. âI hate him, I hate him.â
Eddieâs vision blurs as tears fill his eyes, because Steve is barely even talking to him anymore. Heâs not telling Eddie he hates his father. Heâs telling the trees. The front porch. The gravel driveway.
âI hate him,â Steve yells, looking at the ground, and as he says it again, his hands raise to his head, fingers threading into his hair tightly.
âSteveââ
âI hate him,â Steve cries, turning away. âI hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, Iâ hate himââ And heâs pulling his hair now, his fists tight in it, and heâs sobbing, choking on his words, yelling it all at the very house he grew up in, kicking at the front door with his bare feet, and Eddie goes up the front steps. Heâs crying too. He doesnât know what to do. He wishes Wayne was here.
âI hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I hate him I hate him I hate him IhatehimIhatehimIhatehimIhatehimIhatehimââ
âSteve,â Eddie says desperately, reaching for his hand and holding his wrists, but Steve is pulling away. âBaby, please, justââ
âI hate him,â Steve wails. âI hate him. I hate him.â
âStevie,â Eddie says weakly, pulling at his wrists until heâs facing him, and then he holds his face. There are tears streaming down his cheeks, making the colorful bruise shine, and heâs sobbing, but he finally stops as their eyes meet. âBreathe,â Eddie pleads. âPlease, just⌠Breathe.â
Steve gasps, his fingers still tight in his hair, and Eddie nods, inhaling deeply, shakily, and he canât even see him clearly. So he comes closer, stepping until their faces are almost touching, brushing his thumbs over his cheeks softly.
âBreathe,â he whispers. âItâs okay.â
He slowly reaches for Steveâs wrists, gently touching them and sliding his hands to Steveâs. Steve exhales shakily. Eddie touches his fingers, brushing over his knuckles lightly, and then he presses, carefully, tentatively uncurling Steveâs hands to make him let go of his hair.
âThere you go,â Eddie breathes when he lets go. Steve takes a stuttering, hiccuping breath. Heâs still crying. âLet it out, baby, Iâm right here.â
Steve lets out a deep sob, squeezing his eyes shut, and Eddie lets their foreheads press together as Steve clutches at his hands.
âIs it okay if I hug you?â he whispers.
âPlease,â Steve chokes.
âCâmere, sweetheart,â Eddie says, opening his arms. âI got you, Stevie.â
Steve falls against him, and heâs shaking, his hands trembling as they clutch at Eddieâs jacket, and he sobs into Eddieâs neck. The sobs seem to rip their way out of him, deep and rough and heartwrenching. Eddie closes his eyes, holding him tightly.
âI got you, baby boy, youâre okay,â he says desperately, holding the back of his head as Steve lets out a wail, almost screaming as if in agony. And Eddie sobs, lowering Steve down as Steveâs knees buckle until theyâre on the ground, wrapped around each other on the front porch of Steveâs house. Steveâs arms are tight around his waist, gripping the fabric of his jacket.
Heâs limp when he finally stops crying, and then itâs just Eddie. He tries to stop, but his shoulders shake with every weak sob, and heâs gasping for breath, and Steve just stays in his arms, too exhausted to do anything.
Until Eddie stops crying too.
Theyâre both messes. Red-cheeked and runny-nosed and trembling. They just wipe at their faces, holding each other, until Steve sits up and turns, and crashes his mouth into Eddieâs.
Eddie lets out a noise heâs never made before, something small and desperate and weak, and he holds Steveâs face in his hands, cradling his jaw. They gasp when they part, their foreheads pressing.
âLetâs go inside,â Eddie whispers. Steve just nods.
They sit on the floor in the kitchen.
Eddie gets him a large glass of water, and he sits behind him as he sips it slowly, running his fingers through Steveâs hair as Steve leans against his back. Eddie presses soft kisses to his neck quietly.
They go home.
Steve goes to bed when they get to the trailer, and Eddie stays with him until he falls asleep before he gets out of bed again, pausing as he watches Steve shift, wrapping an arm around one of the pillows on the beg and pulling it to his chest.
Eddie goes to the living room.
Steveâs voice is echoing in his head.
I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.
Eddieâs never hated anyone more in his life. Heâs never wanted to kill someone more than he does now, as he sits on his sofa and waits for Wayne to come home, as he wipes his tears away as quickly as they fall, as his knee bounces up and down anxiously.
Steve is still asleep when the sun comes up, and heâs still asleep when Wayne comes home. Wayneâs eyes catch on Eddie sitting on the sofa as heâs taking off his shoes, and Eddie looks up at him. His skin feels dry from the salt of his tears, and he knows he looks a wreck.
âWhat the hell happened?â Wayne asks, kicking his shoes aside carelessly and dropping his keys and his bag as he comes toward Eddie.
âSteveâs in bed,â Eddie says quietly.
âWhat happened?â Wayne asks again. âDid you have a fight?â
âNo,â Eddie breathes. âHeâŚâ He swallows, and Wayne sits next to him on the sofa, touching his back. âHis dad hit him.â
Wayneâs hand freezes.
âThereâs a bruise on his face. And his dadâs in fucking New York, and Steve, he⌠He had some kind of breakdown when I got there, he was⌠He was screaming and crying and he wasâ he was pulling his hair, and he was hurting himself, Wayne, Iââ
He breaks off when a sob escapes him, and Wayne pulls him into his arms, cradling his head. He reaches to hold Wayneâs arm.
âI didnât know what to do,â he says, gasping. âHe wouldnâtâ He wouldnât stop, and I was so scared, Wayneââ
Wayne hushes him softly, rocking back and forth with him.
âHeâs in bed?â Wayne asks when Eddieâs tears slow. Eddie nods. âHeâs alright? Safe? Heâs not hurt?â
Eddie nods again.
âIâ I got him to let go of his hair,â he says weakly. ââN he just cried. And cried.â
Wayne kisses the side of his head, running his fingers through his hair.
âSounds like you did okay,â Wayne says softly.
Eddie shakes his head.
He exhales roughly.
âIâm so fucking angry, Wayne,â he says quietly. âHe has no fucking right to put his hands on him, Steve doesnâtâ He doesnât deserve it, heâs justâ Heâs so fucking good, Iââ
âEddie,â Wayne says softly, his voice low and careful. âI know youâre angry, I am tooââ
âIâll kill him,â Eddie interrupts, looking at Wayne earnestly. âIf I see him, Iâll fucking kill him, I swear to Godââ
âAnd I will help you hide the body,â Wayne says, holding Eddieâs face now. He wipes away a tear. âBut Steve does not need your anger right now,â he says softly, slowly, carefully. âHe needs you.â
Eddie closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, shuddering with it.
âYou go hold your boy in your arms,â Wayne says softly. âAnd you make sure he knows heâs safe here. And when you both wake up, we will do whatever we need to for him. Alright?â
Eddie sniffs, blinking his eyes open, and the sunlight is too bright in his tears, but he can still see the shape of Wayne looking at him, holding him, leaning in to kiss his forehead.
Eddie goes to his room. Steve is still holding the pillow to his chest, his face hidden from the sunlight, and Eddie pauses to close the curtain before he goes to bed. The room dims, still warm and bright.
Eddie carefully pulls the pillow away from Steveâs arm, and Steve sighs, letting it go. He stirs, blinking his eyes open and squinting as Eddie climbs into bed in the pillowâs place. Eddie lays down and Steve shifts closer, laying his head on Eddieâs chest, wrapping an arm around his waist and sighing. Eddie runs a hand over his hair, kissing the top of his head, and rubs his arm gently as Steve falls asleep again.
Eddie closes his eyes, listening to Steveâs slow breaths, and he falls asleep too.
They wake up around the same time, stirring to the sound of birds singing outside and shifting against each other. Theyâre laying face to face, Eddieâs arm under Steveâs neck, his other hand on his waist, and Steveâs hands are curled into loose fists between them. Eddie looks at them for a moment, at how gentle they look despite how hard they pulled his hair yesterday, how tight they wound the strands around his fingers. Eddie moves his hand to touch them, pulling them a little closer to kiss his knuckles.
Steveâs eyes blink open slowly. Eddie looks at the bruise. Itâs healing a little bit, a few days old, and the edges around it somehow match the color of Steveâs eyes.
âHow do you feel?â Eddie asks softly, running his thumb over Steveâs knuckles.
ââŚTired,â Steve whispers. Eddie nods.
Steve is quiet for a moment, watching Eddieâs fingers before he wraps his own fingers around two of them, holding them loosely.
âHe doesnât usually⌠do that,â Steve says after another pause. âHe just talks a lot, he says a lot of things, but heâ he doesnât hit me very often at all, I barely remember the last time he did it.â
Eddieâs chest hurts.
âBut he was stressed,â Steve continues, looking at their hands. âAboutâ About the flight, and I forgot to clean the kitchen like he asked, and I kind of talked back, and he justââ
âSteve,â Eddie interrupts. Steve looks into his eyes nervously, and Eddie hesitates. ââŚThis is not your fault,â he says slowly, running his thumb over Steveâs knuckles. âYou understand that, right?â
â��I talked back,â Steve says in a small voice.
âI donât care that you talked back,â Eddie says firmly, ignoring the way his eyes are stinging again. âNothing you did, andâ and nothing you could have done, would warrant him treating you like this. Okay?â
Steve blinks. His eyes are glistening. Eddie squeezes his hand.
âYou understand?â Eddie whispers softly. Steve nods. âYou come over here if you want to, ever, okay? If heâs being mean, or if heâs scaring you, or anything at all, Stevie, you come here and weâll keep you safe.â
Steve looks at their hands, and he reaches his other hand to hold Eddieâs between his, squeezing his fingers gently.
âWhy do you care so much?â he asks softly, and Eddie wants to set the world alight for ever making Steve feel like this. Like Eddie shouldnât care, like Steve isnât worth it.
Eddie gazes at him.
He could say it right now. But the words refuse to leave his throat, to form in his mouth, when he parts his lips.
âYouâre my baby,â he says instead, his voice soft and whispering. Steve blinks, his expression softening, his eyes shining vulnerably. âYouâre my boy. And Iâ Iâll be damned if I let anybody treat my baby like that.â His voice breaks, and he takes a shuddering breath, tightening his hand on Steveâs.
Steve squeezes his eyes shut. Eddie lifts his hand to his lips and kisses it softly.
âIâm yours,â Steve whispers after a deep breath.
ââS right, sweetheart,â Eddie murmurs.
Steve opens his eyes and sits up a little, leaning forward to press a hard, lingering kiss to Eddieâs lips. Eddie closes his eyes, humming and wrapping his arm around Steveâs neck as Steve hovers above him, pushing his fingers into his hair and combing through it gently. They separate with a slick sound, and Eddie murmurs softly to him.
âI got you, baby, come here.â
Steve buries his face in Eddieâs neck, crying quietly, and Eddie holds him gently, the way he deserves. He slips one of his hands under the hem of Steveâs shirt (which is Eddieâs shirt, really; Eddie hadnât noticed it disappear, and he wonders how long Steveâs had it), running his fingers over his soft skin. Heâs so warm.
When he stops crying, Eddie kisses his head, smiling when Steve groans weakly.
âI hate crying,â he grumbles into Eddieâs neck. Eddie rubs his back.
âCâmon, Iâll get you some water,â he says softly. âAnd Wayne wants to see you.â
Steve follows him heavily, pausing by the doorway and squeezing his eyes shut, wincing as the dehydration and bright morning light makes his head ache. Eddie kisses his forehead.
Wayne is at the table by the front door with a newspaper and a mug of coffee when they come down the hall. He looks up when they come in, his expression softening as he looks at them, at their linked hands, and he stands up, reaching for Steve.
He touches his face, analyzing the bruise, before he clicks his tongue and mutters, âBastard,â under his breath and pulls Steve into a gentle hug. Eddie goes to the kitchen and fills a large glass with water.
âHere, baby,â he says softly when he goes back to them, holding it out to Steve, and Steve takes it, lifting his chin up to kiss Eddie chastely.
âThank you.â
Wayne makes them lunch, and Eddie sits with Steve on the sofa while Steve sips the water slowly. Thereâs a baseball game on the television, and the volume is down so low Eddie can barely hear it so it doesnât hurt Steveâs head.
Steve falls asleep with his head on Wayneâs shoulder after they eat, hugging Eddieâs arm to himself. And Eddie falls in love all over again.
â â â â â
Steveâs graduation is coming up.
Eddie is taking extra shifts at the mechanic, saving up as much as he can, and he attends every party he can with his tin lunchbox in hand. He leaves with cash and a smile. Heâs been working on the van, too. Making sure everything is tuned up, making sure they have everything they need. Non-perishables, water, blankets, clothes. Eddieâs acoustic guitar. Some books. Itâs all sorted in the back of the van, neater than anything else in Eddieâs life.
Wayne helps. He checks that Eddie has certain things, climbs into the back of the van to inspect it. He even has a friend of his come over to make sure the engineâs okay, even though Eddie insists itâs fine.
On the day of the ceremony, Wayne has Steveâs button-down and slacks ironed and laid out on the ironing board in the living room. Wayne canât go to the ceremony, and they say goodbye in the living room before Steve leaves for the rehearsal.
Itâs a long goodbye, drawn out and quiet as they hug each other tightly and Eddie watches. Itâs like neither of them wants to let go. Wayne cradles the back of Steveâs head, his eyes closed, and Steve looks little again, young and small, eyes closed as his cheek squishes against Wayneâs shoulder.
âYou call me when you can,â Wayne says when they separate, holding Steveâs face and looking at him seriously. Steve nods. âYou have Morganâs and Davisâs numbers for emergencies. Write to me.â He pauses, looking at Steve like heâs trying to memorize his face. âAnything happens, you come straight home.â
Steve nods, his eyes glistening. He hugs Wayne again, his arms somehow tighter around him.
âI love you, Steve,â Wayne says softly, and Steveâs eyes squeeze shut. Heâs wrinkling his shirt. But he doesnât seem to care as he chokes a quiet, âI love you too.â
Steve wipes his tears as Eddie drives him to the school in the van, taking deep breaths.
âYou nervous?â Eddie asks, reaching over and squeezing his leg.
âA little bit,â Steve says, touching his hand and turning it over to play with his fingers. âBut Iâm excited.â
Eddie smiles.
He leans against the van in the parking lot, watching Steve put on the graduation gown. Itâs dark green.
Steve zips it and fluffs it out, grimacing and wrinkling his nose at it as he holds his arms out to examine the sleeves before he looks up at Eddie, raising his eyebrows.
âThoughts?â he asks.
And Eddie represses the urge to push him against the van and kiss him silly. There are too many people here for him to do that right now.
âYouâre beautiful,â he says instead, his voice soft. Steveâs cheeks flush.
âYou think?â he asks, reaching for the cap that Eddie is holding for him.
âMhmm.â
âYou got a thing for graduation gowns?â Steve teases, pushing his hair back and casting a glance at the cap, but he doesnât put it on yet, and Eddie knows he doesnât want to mess his hair up.
âGot a thing for you.â
Steve looks away, suppressing a smile as his cheeks darken, and Eddie grins, tilting his head. Steve looks around the parking lot. There are a few people glancing at them. At SteveandEddie.
Steve huffs, biting his lip and pushing his hair back.
âWhat?â Eddie says.
âJust⌠Wish there wasnât anyone here.â He looks at Eddie, his eyes shining intently, and Eddieâs chest aches a little.
âMe too,â he says softly.
Steve spins the cap in his hands, the corners of it pressing into his index fingers as he flicks it back and forth, and his eyes look Eddie up and down slowly. Eddieâs dressed the way he usually is, jeans and an old t-shirt, but Steve stares like itâs something heâs never seen before.
âWhat?â Eddie says again.
Steve shrugs, still looking at him. His eyes linger on his waistline, where his shirtâs tucked into his jeans to show his belt, and Steve wets his lips, looking into Eddieâs eyes intently.
âGot a thing for you too.â
Eddie groans quietly, letting his head fall back to the van, and Steve giggles when it thuds loudly.
âIâll see you tonight,â Eddie says after sighing heavily. âAfter the ceremony. Iâll pick you up outside the theater.â
âOkay,â Steve says softly.
Eddie watches him go inside, watches him wave the cap at Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers, who are lingering by the entrance of the building, smiling as he approaches to say hi. Eddie sighs again. He sits in the van for a few minutes after everyone goes inside, smoking a cigarette and just sitting for a while.
It feels kind of surreal, looking out across the parking lot of the high school. Dropping his boyfriend off for his graduation rehearsal.
Eddie remembers the first day he biked to the high school by himself, fourteen and angry like a nervous dog. He remembers skirting around the older kidsâ cars, trying to avoid scraping them, keeping his eyes ahead as they threw insults and garbage at him because they thought it was funny. He remembers chaining his bike up by the front doors and finding his bike disassembled after school one day, one wheel missing, the handlebar crooked, and he remembers bursting into tears because he knew Wayne didnât have enough money to get a new bike for him.
When he finally got a new bike, he got special permission from the gym teacher to leave it in the sports equipment shed. The gym teacher was always nice to Eddie, even though Eddie never knew why. He showed Eddie how to use the lock on the shed, and he made sure anybody that might have seen Eddie would know he was supposed to be there, that he wasnât stealing or anything.
The sports shed was where Eddie was when he first saw some upperclassmen doing drills on the field, training for football season. Some of them were shirtless, others wearing wife-beaters or thin t-shirts, and they were all sweaty, panting, laughing and making fun of each other. Eddie had to start over with the lock five times before he finally got it open, his hands shaking, his eyes wandering. When he got home that day he just laid in bed and stared at the ceiling for a while.
He remembers the first time he drove the van into the parking lot. Someone had called out to him, asked where he got the money for it, and he couldnât bring himself to tell him it was a gift from his boss. You whoring yourself out? the boy had said, and his friends had laughed. Eddie just tilted his head. You interested? Get my info from your mom. They didnât like that. Eddie thought it was funny.
Eddie remembers seeing Steve Harrington drive his nice car into the parking lot, remembers seeing his friends fawn over it, remembers seeing Steve get out of the driverâs seat and push his hair back. He remembers hating how Steve pushes his hair back, thinking it was so pretentious and fake casual. But he loves it now. Steve even does it when his hair isnât styled, when he just wants it out of his face, but since falling in love with him, Eddieâs learned (or rather noticed) that itâs just an anxious habit of his. He does it when heâs shy and when he doesnât know what to do with his hands. And Eddie realized that Steveâs always been like this, shy and nervous and bashful.
And Eddie remembers the night he drove Steve back to his car after Steve kissed him senseless in the back of the van at the quarry. He remembers Steve leaning back into the car to write his phone number on Eddieâs hand (which Eddie still has memorized; he kind of wanted it tattooed just because), and he remembers the way Steve leaned back in to kiss him goodbye.
Eddie sigh, taking one last drag off the cigarette before he stubs it out.
He drives around town. Stops outside the video store Steve worked at for the past year, the store that used to be the music store Eddie worked at. Eddie stopped going after the music store owner moved, and he started going again to visit Steve during his lunch breaks and to pick him up and drop him off after he sold his car. He eyes the sign of the store, thinking about the cute vest Steve had to wear during his shifts. He wonders if heâll miss it.
He goes home to Wayne. Makes lunch with him. And then he makes Wayne get out of the house, snatches his sandwich to wrap it in foil as he tells Wayne to go to the van. He drives them up to the quarry, and they sit looking over the water.
âThis is where we were,â Eddie says after a few moments as they eat. âSteve and me. When we decided to go.â
âItâs a nice spot,â Wayne says, looking out across the quarry, and they listen to the water splash.
âI was kinda scared youâd be mad,â Eddie says after a moment. âThat I decided to leave so⌠abruptly.â
Wayne is smiling, and he shakes his head.
âCouldnât be mad at you for that,â he says, his voice rumbly. Eddie listens closely. Heâs going to miss his voice. âThis townâs been nothinâ but cruel to you. Youâre allowed to leave.â
Eddie nods, biting his sandwich. His leg is bouncing.
âIâm gonna miss you,â he says.
âIâm gonna miss you too, Eds,â Wayne says, and he moves closer, wrapping an arm around Eddieâs shoulders. Eddie falls against him, and he suddenly gets why Steve looked so small today. Itâs like he shrinks into Wayneâs side, like heâs gone back ten years, and heâs the little boy he was when Wayne took him in. âItâs gonna be so quiet when youâre gone.â
Eddie laughs lightly.
âListen to some Anthrax in my honor.â
âYouâre not dying, Eddie,â Wayne says, and Eddie feels him shake when he laughs. âYou gonna come back for Christmas?â
âWe can,â Eddie says, and then, âWe can do anything.â
âAinât that the truth.â
Wayne kisses the top of Eddieâs head.
He smiles when he sees the photos Eddie has taped to the wall of the van: one of Wayne sipping from his favorite mug at the table, one of him and Steve on the sofa watching some sports game, one of Eddie and Wayne in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner. Thereâs also a piece of paper taped up with Wayneâs and Morganâs and Wayneâs friend Davisâs phone numbers even though Eddie and Steve both have them memorized. Just in case.
Eddie gets dressed for the graduation ceremony. He wears one of Wayneâs old shirts that he gave Eddie a long while ago and a pair of unripped jeans, and Wayne helps him tie the tie around his neck. Eddie watches his face as he does it, watches the way his brows furrow in concentration, watches him frown. He sticks his tongue out a little when he focuses. Eddie must have gotten it from him.
And Eddie feels like a kid again, smiling as Wayne fixes his collar and smooths it down.
Wayneâs already dressed for work, wearing an old, stained flannel and stained pants.
âNever thought Iâd look more presentable than you,â Eddie says. Wayne smiles, his eyes squinting.
âWhat a time, huh?â
He holds Eddieâs shoulders. Looks at him.
âIâm gonna be okay,â Eddie says softly.
âI know,â Wayne says. âI trust you.â He sighs, nodding. âYouâre gonna be fine.â
They hug for a long time. Wayne tells him the same things he told Steve this morning. Call as often as possible. Call Morgan or Davis if thereâs an emergency. Write letters. If anything happens, if anything goes wrong, come home.
Eddie leaves for the ceremony. He wipes his tears on his shoulder as he drives away from the trailer.
He gets stares when he gets to the theater. People recognize him, know his face. His hair. There are some students from his class there, visiting town to see their friends, to see their friends and siblings graduate, and he ignores his own name uttered in hushed voices around as people question his presence.
He spots Steve from where heâs sitting in the audience. Heâs looking up at the ceiling, head tilted like heâs bored, and Eddie smiles fondly.
There are so many people here. Eddie looks around at them while they get settled, while they find their seats with their families and friends, while they excitedly look up at the stage. Eddie relaxes into his seat. The man on his left and the woman on his right are sitting as far away from him as they can, leaning toward their relatives.
Eddie watches while every name is called, his ears ringing from the loud applause after each of them. There are a lot, but he canât tell if this class is bigger than his was.
When Steveâs name is called, Eddie whistles as loud as he can, and he sees Steve turn toward the audience, suppressing his beautiful smile. The applause is loud for him, and the other students on stage clap for him, watching him cross the stage, and Eddie remembers that heâs their king. And then he remembers that heâs leaving that all behind.
The ceremony is long. But Eddie stays awake throughout it all (which he didnât do even during his own graduation), his knee bouncing in anticipation. The graduates leave before everyone else, out a back door, and Eddie winds his way through the crowd of people thatâs leaving, bumping into as few as possible and saying âScuse me and Sorry, coming through, ignoring their glances and glares.
He sees the graduates all outside the theater, laughing and celebrating, and his eyes catch on Steve, leaning against the wall, by himself, looking around, and Eddie smiles, his heart pounding as he drives the van around the parking lot. He pulls up next to the lawn and gets out, looking at Steve when Steve sees him.
And then Steve is running to him, holding the cap in his hand, and heâs jumping into Eddieâs arms, hugging him around the neck tightly. Eddie catches him, closing his eyes and smiling so widely his face is sore as he spins him in a circle. Steve is laughing.
Eddie sets him down and looks at him. His eyes are gleaming, excited, and his cheeks are pink. Eddie touches one.
âYou ready to go?â he asks softly.
Steve nods.
Eddie takes the cap from his hands and bops him on his head, his heart aching when Steve smiles, his eyes shining. Steve takes off the graduation gown as he goes to get into the van, and he tosses it in the back. As he buckles his seatbelt, Eddie smacks his face with the cap just to fuck with him, and Steve snatches it from him, giggling and hitting him with it before he tosses it to join the gown.
They drive.
Thereâs a Lynyrd Skynyrd tape playing, and the volume is low, and the sun is setting. The sky is orange and red and pink, and Eddie thinks about how lucky they are that there arenât any clouds. When he glances at Steve, he can see the sky reflecting in his eyes, like thereâs a fire behind them. Steve is smiling.
Eddie reaches over and squeezes his leg, just above his knee. Steve takes his hand and turns it over again, and Eddie thinks heâs going to play with his fingers, but Steve just slides his palm across Eddieâs, locking their fingers together and squeezing.
Thereâs a sign on the side of the road, dirty red and white, rusted around the corners.
LEAVING HAWKINS COME AGAIN SOON
And as they pass by it, leaving it behind, Eddie hears Steve exhale in relief.
They drive. Steve looks out the window, holding Eddieâs hand and lifting a leg up onto his seat. Hawkins fades from the rearview mirrors.
The sun sets, and the stars appear overhead. The moon is almost full. Eddie sees Steve lean forward to look at it, and he smiles.
They keep driving.
They only stop when the sun begins to rise again. The road theyâre on is empty, secluded, because Hawkins is in the middle of nowhere. Nobody comes here.
Eddie pulls over, parking the van so the back is facing the sunrise, and Steve gets out of the van to stretch, groaning softly. Eddie canât stop smiling, and he opens the back, watching Steve climb in to grab one of their bags, pulling out two t-shirts and throwing one so it hits Eddieâs face. Eddie catches it before it can fall to the ground, laughing and watching Steve unbutton his shirt as he kneels next to their mattress.
The sun is shining on him. Eddie melts a little bit on the inside.
His hair is falling in his face as he looks down at the buttons, and the fabric is falling open, exposing his chest and stomach, the soft hair that Eddie wants to run his fingers through, the moles spotting his golden skin that Eddie wants to kiss. Steve doesnât notice Eddie watching, pulling the shirt off and setting it aside as he pulls on the t-shirt, and then he rolls the button-down up and sticks it in the bag. He looks up at Eddie, a hand lifting to take his shirt, but Eddie hasnât moved, still gazing, holding the t-shirt to his chest. Steve raises an eyebrow, smiling.
Eddie sets the shirt down and reaches for his tie, his cheeks flushing with heat, but he canât untie it, so Steve takes over, crawling so heâs kneeling at the edge of the van and swatting Eddieâs hands out of the way so he can take care of it. The tie slides out of the collar of his shirt smoothly, and Steve sets it aside before he starts unbuttoning the shirt, slowly, carefully, tenderly. Eddie gazes at him. His eyes look like theyâre glowing in the sunlight.
Steveâs fingers brush his bare skin as he undoes the buttons, and Eddie bites his lip, watching him. Steveâs eyes linger on the tattoos on Eddieâs chest. Heâs seen them before, heâs touched them and pressed soft kisses to them, but he still stares like theyâre brand-new.
As Steve undoes the last button, he lifts his head, and Eddie leans down to kiss him before he even thinks about it. Steve sighs, pushing his shirt open and sliding one of his hands across Eddieâs stomach. His hand is warm.
The kiss lingers, and they separate after a moment, smiling. Steve pushes the shirt off Eddieâs shoulders and picks up the t-shirt, waiting patiently as Eddie pulls the shirt off his arms and tosses it into the van. And then Steve helps Eddie put the shirt on, and Eddie is smiling again.
Steve puts the button-down in the bag and zips it back up, putting it away as Eddie gets out the sandwiches Wayne made for them. Theyâre wrapped in foil.
They sit on the edge of the van, looking at the sun rise over the trees, and they eat in silence. Eddie holds Steveâs leg. Steve lays his head on Eddieâs shoulder.
When they finish eating, Eddie moves the rest of the food out of the plastic bag Wayne put them in, and he puts the balled-up foil in the bag. Then he moves back next to Steve, and he sighs. The sky is orange again. Eddie is starting to love the color orange.
Steve rests his head on Eddieâs shoulder again. Eddie sets his arm behind his back.
âYou donât regret it, do you?â he asks softly after a few minutes. Heâs been thinking about it. If Steve were to decide he didnât want to leave, even after planning on leaving for over a year. If Steve decides he wants to go back after they leave. Eddie will take him home if he wants to. Eddie will take him anywhere.
Steve lifts his head and looks at him. He looks so warm in the sunlight, almost glowing. He kisses Eddie, touching his face as Eddie exhales slowly. He stares at Eddie when they part, his eyes half-shut.
âIâve never been happier than I am right now,â he murmurs.
Eddie smiles.
He lifts his chin to ask for another kiss, and Steve obliges, pressing their lips together softly and brushing his thumb over Eddieâs cheek softly. Eddie lifts the hand thatâs set behind Steve and presses it to his back, tilting his head. Steve's lips part, and his tongue slips across Eddieâs, and Eddie hums when Steve nips at his lip before he sucks it between his own.
Eddie turns to face his body toward him, pulling him closer, and Steve moves too, pulling a leg up between them and leaning over it to kiss him harder, pressing his hands to Eddieâs face and holding him in place. Eddie furrows his brows, lifting his other hand and setting it on Steveâs hip, sliding it to his thigh and squeezing. Steve hums.
When they part, theyâre both breathing hard, and Eddie smiles, blinking his eyes open to look at Steve, whose lips are parted and shining as he pants. Eddie leans close and licks across his lips just because, and Steve lets out a soft sound, lifting his chin to catch Eddieâs mouth in another kiss.
Eddie pulls him closer, twisting so their legs tangle, and Steveâs arms wrap around his neck, his fingers pushing into his hair and tugging as they lick into each otherâs mouths. Eddie slides a hand under Steveâs shirt, slipping his fingertips over the line of his spine lightly, and Steve shivers.
Eddieâs desperate now, humming weakly as Steve tugs on his hair and sucks on his tongue, and he pulls at Steveâs t-shirt, pulling away enough to gasp, âOff.â
âBed?â Steve asks breathlessly, eyes bright, and Eddie nods, grinning.
They havenât done this before. The farthest theyâve gone is pulling their shirts off while they make out in Eddieâs room, sliding their hands across each otherâs chests and stomachs and waists, kissing each otherâs collarbones and bare shoulders. Thereâs a mole under Steveâs left collarbone that Eddieâs had the privilege of kissing.
Theyâre smiling as they crawl into the van, kicking their shoes off and setting them by the doors, and then Steve is pulling the t-shirt off over his head, tossing it aside as he sits on the mattress and reaches for Eddie, who crawls over to him and kisses him hard. Steveâs hands clutch at his sides, and he pulls away to pull Eddieâs shirt up. Eddie lets him tug it over his head, and then heâs pushing Steve to lay on his back. Steve lets out a soft whine, pulling Eddie down on top of himself.
Eddie lifts a leg to straddle Steveâs hips, leaning down over him and pressing a hand to his chest, running his fingers through his chest hair and humming when Steveâs hands find his legs, squeezing his thighs.
âFuck, Eddie,â Steve breathes when Eddie pulls away and kisses his cheek, then his jaw, then down his neck.
âMm.â
He licks a line up his neck, then sucks a kiss just under his jaw, listening to the way Steve is breathing.
âYouâre so beautiful,â Eddie murmurs. âPrettiest fuckinâ thing Iâve ever seen.â
âEddie, shit.â
His hips jerk up into Eddie, and Eddie gasps, burying his face in Steveâs neck. Steve is hard.
âFuck, sorry,â Steve breathes, running his hands over Eddieâs thighs, and Eddie kisses his neck, biting his skin gently.
âDonât be sorry,â he says, breathless. âIâŚâ
He lifts his head, looking at him, and all theyâve done is kiss, but Steve looks a mess. His hair is messy on the pillow beneath his head, and his lips are reddened and shining and parted as he breathes hard, and his eyes are glazed and half-shut like heâs high. His cheeks are pink. The sunlight shines around Eddieâs shadow over him.
Eddie must look the same.
âI want you to fuck me,â he says finally, and Steve blinks.
âOh.â
âIf youâ If you want, we donât have toââ
âShut up,â Steve says, sitting up and kissing Eddie so hard their teeth clash. Eddie whimpers, wrapping his arms around Steveâs neck as Steve slides a hand to his ass, squeezing. âAre you sure?â he pants when they part, their foreheads pressing together.
âYes,â Eddie gasps, rolling his hips, and Steve chokes out a quiet moan, his hand tightening on Eddie. âIâ I want you in me.â
âFuck,â Steve says gruffly, kissing him again.
âDo you want to?â Eddie breathes.
âYeah, fuck yes.â
Eddie grins, and he kisses him again, grinding against him. Steve lets out an open-mouthed groan, wrapping his arms around Eddieâs waist tightly, pulling him against himself harder.
âDo weââ Steve pauses with a gasp as Eddie leans back down and buries his face in his neck, licking and biting and sucking on his skin. âDo we have stuff?â
âYeah,â Eddie says into his neck. âI got some before we left, itâsâŚâ
He sits up straight, huffing as he looks at the bags next to them. He kisses Steve one more time before getting off of him, moving to unzip of the bags, rummaging through it for the plastic bag from the drugstore. He looks over at Steve while heâs reaching in the bag, watching him unbutton his pants and slide them down his legs. His skin is warm in the sunlight, his legs covered in soft hair, and Eddie looks through the bag more intently.
He tosses the bag next to the mattress when he finds it, and Steve holds a hand out to him, reaching for him.
âLay down,â Steve says, moving to kneel, and Eddie moves to lay down in his place, smiling as Steve moves between his legs and reaches to the button of his jeans. Eddie lifts his hips to help him tug them down his legs, and Steve leans down as he tosses them aside, pressing a kiss to his thigh before he opens his mouth and bites down gently.
Eddie giggles, reaching to touch Steveâs hair.
Steve looks up at him, his eyes shining, the sun behind him making his hair light up like flames, and he hooks a finger on the waistband of Eddieâs underwear.
âOkay?â he asks softly.
âYeah,â Eddie breathes.
Steve tugs them down, smiling as Eddie sighs and throws his head back. When Eddie looks up again, Steve is shifting farther down the mattress, moving onto his stomach. He touches Eddieâs dick, jacking it slowly and carefully, and Eddie hisses, bititng his lip, propping himself up on his elbows to watch. Steve smiles, leaning his head down and spitting on it slowly, using it to slick his way.
âFuck, Stevie,â Eddie breathes. âIâŚâ
âCan you pass me the lube?â Steve asks, grinning. Eddie nods, reaching for the plastic bag and pulling the bottle of lube out of it. He pauses, resting on an elbow, to open it, peeling away the plastic and tossing it away before passing the bottle down to Steve, who murmurs a soft, âThank you, baby.â
Eddie takes a deep breath, looking down at him, the sunrise behind him, shining on his bare legs and ass and back, and Eddieâs stomach flips over. He has butterflies.
Steve notices, pausing as he opens the lube, looking up at him.
âHave you done this before?â he asks, one of his hands caressing his thigh gently, comfortingly.
âOnly to myself,â Eddie says softly. Steve smiles.
âAre you sure you want to?â
âYes,â Eddie says. âIâm fucking desperate for it, baby, please.â
Steveâs smile widens, and he turns his head to press a slow kiss to the inside of his thigh, and then heâs leaning forward to suck the tip of his dick into his mouth, and Eddie whines, his back arching. His mouth is warm and wet and fucking perfect, and Eddie reaches down to touch his hair again, but Steve pulls away after a moment, pushing at the back of Eddieâs thigh.
âHold your leg up for me,â he says, and Eddie does, lifting his leg and holding it up to expose himself, his face flushing with heat.
âI feel fucking ridiculous,â he mutters, but heâs still smiling. Steveâs hand runs down the back of his thigh to his ass before he clicks the bottle open.
âWell, you look fucking good,â Steve says lightly.
Eddie giggles softly, closing his eyes, and he gasps when Steve takes him into his mouth again, sliding farther down this time, his tongue fluttering against him, and then Steveâs finger is pressing to his hole, sliding inside just enough that Eddie can still stop him. Eddieâs chest feels warm.
âCome on, baby,â he says breathlessly. âI want it.â
He groans when Steve pushes his finger in farther. Steveâs other arm wraps around his thigh, his hand holding onto his hip as his head bobs up and down slowly. Eddie moans weakly, collapsing onto his back and reaching down to hold Steveâs hair, pulling it gently.
Heâs gasping for breath, almost lightheaded as Steve fingers him open, pulling away to get more lube. When Eddie looks at him, his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, his lip between his teeth, and he presses kisses to Eddieâs thigh, to his hip. It takes a moment to notice that Steve is grinding his hips into the mattress, and Eddie giggles.
Eddie bites his lip to keep himself quiet, and Steve bites his thigh before murmuring, âLet me hear you.â
Eddie lets out a loud Fuck! when Steve finally adds a third finger, pushing in slowly, almost meticulous in how heâs taking Eddie apart. Eddie throws his head back, groaning loudly, his back arched.
He squeezes his eyes shut. Steve is still humping the mattress, his fingers pushing in and spreading slightly, stretching Eddie out, and Eddie reaches down to tug his hair desperately.
âPlease,â he chokes. âStevie, baby, Iâ I need you, please, come onââ
âGet a condom,â Steve says, and his voice is rough, low and gravelly, and Eddie moans, squeezing his eyes shut before he reaches for the box next to the bed. He struggles to open the box, his hands shaking, but he finally gets one out and looks down the mattress to toss it at Steveâs head, grinning when Steve glares at him.
Steve shifts to pull his underwear off and toss it away, and Eddie stares, watching as he opens the foil and rolls the condom on.
âGod.â
Steve grins, moving closer and pushing Eddie to lay on his back. Eddie falls promptly, eliciting a soft laugh, and he wraps his around around Steveâs shoulders as Steve pushes his legs farther apart.
âYou okay?â Steve whispers, leaning down until their noses brush.
âIâm so okay,â Eddie breathes. âYou?â
âYeah, same.â
Eddie smiles, and they look at each other for a moment. Theyâre both shaking. Eddie lifts his chin, and Steve kisses him tenderly, smiling against his lips. Eddie opens his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut as Steveâs tongue slides against his, and he hums.
âCan I tell you something?â he whispers breathlessly.
âYeah, âcourse.â
Eddie kisses him again, pushing his hair back, letting it slip between his fingers. When they part, he stays close, nudging their noses together and breathing hard, eyes still closed. Butterflies swarming.
âI love you so fucking much.â
Steve exhales, kissing Eddie again, biting his lip harder than he usually does, their noses smashing together, and itâs messy and wet and desperate as he licks into Eddieâs mouth. Thereâs spit on their chins and cheeks, and a string of spit connects their mouths when Steve pulls away, panting.
âI love you so fucking much too.â
âOh,â Eddie breathes, lightheaded from the kiss, his head falling back to the mattress. ââS nice.â
Steve giggles, lowering his head to kiss his neck, sucking on his skin and nipping at it and (hopefully) leaving marks in his path.
âYou ready?â
âYeah, gimme that dick.â
Steve snorts and snickers into his neck, and Eddie grins at the ceiling, wrapping his legs around Steveâs hips as Steve reaches down, shifting. And then heâs pushing into Eddie, and Eddie isnât breathing, his lips parting and his back arching. Steve pauses, touching his face.
âDonât pass out,â he says, and Eddie exhales sharply with a laugh.
âWould that be theâ fuckâ the highest compliment?â he asks breathlessly, groaning weakly. âIf I pass out on your dick?â
Steve laughs lightly, his breath on Eddieâs face.
âI guess,â he says. âBut if you pass out, Iâll totally panic, so I need you to breath.â
Eddie takes a long, slow deep breath, exaggerating the rise and fall of his chest, and Steve presses a kiss to his throat.
âThere you go,â he mumurs. Eddie flushes with heat. âYou ready for more?â
âThereâs more?â
Steve giggles into his neck again, nodding, and Eddie laughs.
âFuck,â Steve gasps, one of his hands tightening on Eddieâs waist. âYou feel so good, Eddie, IâŚâ
âGimme more,â Eddie says, threading a hand into Steveâs hair. âI want it all, baby, I want all of you.â
Steve gives him all of him.
Eddie is crying, his hand tight in Steveâs hair, and Steve stops when he bottoms out, breathing hard into Eddieâs neck.
âFuck, Eddie,â he whispers.
âYeah,â Eddie gasps. âThat, please.â
âYouâre so annoying.â
Theyâre both breathless as they talk, their hip shifting just the slightest bit, smiling and smiling.
âYouâre the one with your massive fucking dick in my ass.â
âYour idea.â
Steve pulls out, and Eddieâs lips part, but he doesnât respond, groaning as Steve pushes back in.
âDoes that feel okay?â Steve whispers.
âFeels so fucking good, Steve,â Eddie says shakily. âOh my god.â
âOkay,â Steve says, and Eddieâs eyes are closed but he can hear his smile. âIâll be gentle, okay?â
âOkay,â Eddie says weakly, his voice thin because his eyes are burning because Steve is so good to him. So kind.
Steve is gentle. He keeps his hands on him the whole time, like heâs keeping him grounded, and heâs so soft, his skin warm against Eddieâs. And heâs so goddamn sweet, murmuring softly to Eddie.
âDoes that feel good?â
âYes, Steve, fuckââ
âI got you, baby.â
Heâs slow with it, carefully moving back and forth, kissing Eddieâs neck and chest breathlessly, until Eddie whines a weak, âStevie, faster, please,â followed by a sharp, âShit, yesââ when Steve snaps his hips forward.
âGood?â
âYeah, Stevie, âs so good,â Eddie slurs, almost delirious. âYouâre so fuckinâ good to me, I love you so much, baby boy, fuck, fuckââ
And obviously itâs a good thing Eddie already told him, because he isnât thinking right now, his mind blissfully blank except for SteveSteveSteveSteveSteveSteveSteveSteveâ
Steve groans into his neck, moving faster, and Eddie throws his head back, his legs tightening around Steveâs hips, the air filling with the sound of their skin slapping, the sound of their heavy breathing and Eddieâs desperate whining, and the van is probabaly shaking as they move.
âEddie, fuck,â Steve gasps, leaning down so their faces are close, and he licks Eddieâs cheek, panting. âFeel so fucking good, youâre so perfect.â
âStevie,â Eddie whines, his back arching. âFuck me,â he moans, pulling Steveâs hair with one hand as the other slides to his arm, holding him tightly.
âYou want it harder?â Steve asks breathlessly, and Eddie nods frantically, moaning a loud yes. His stomach flips over when Steve sits up and manoeuvres his legs so theyâre over his arms, leaning over him, and the stretch in Eddieâs legs aches. He sobs, clutching at Steveâs arm and nodding, begging, pleading.
Steve fucks him. Itâs not like Eddie used to think it would be. He always imagined getting fucked face down, hiding, anonymous. Whoever it was would see his hair. Maybe pretend he was a pretty girl instead of whatever he is.
But SteveâŚ
Steve caresses his face, murmurs to him that heâs perfect. Licks the drool off his face and kisses his neck. Reaches down between them to touch Eddieâs dick when Eddieâs whines go up in pitch.
âSteve,â Eddie chokes, hugging his neck and exhaling roughly. âMy babyââ
Steve whimpers, burying his face in Eddieâs neck.
âIâm so close,â Steve says weakly.
âUse me,â Eddie gasps. âCome for me, baby, pleaseââ
Steve moans brokenly, his hips moving faster, harder, his hand moving in time with it all, and Eddie canât fucking see, it feels so good, and Steve sounds so good, his voice rough and broken and right by Eddieâs ear, and then Steve is freezing, his hips pushing in again, so hard Eddie wonders if his ass will bruise (which might be a though he likes), and heâs groaning loudly, hips stuttering.
Eddie gasps when he pulls out, and then he looks down, watching as Steve shifts down to lay on his front, pausing to slide two fingers into his own mouth, sucking for a moment before he removes them, taking Eddie into his mouth and pushing Eddieâs leg back up the way he did before so he can slide the fingers into his ass. Eddie groans, dropping his head as Steve bobs his head.
âHoly shit,â he says loudly, and he doesnât recognize his own voice. âFuck, baby, please, Iâmââ
Steve doesnât stop, humming around Eddieâs dick, fingers pressing and prodding and pushing until Eddieâs nerves light up, and his back arches again.
âSteve!â
Steve moans in response, pressing into the spot, sucking harder before he lifts his head and looks up at Eddie with lidded eyes.
âCome for me, baby.â
Eddie whines, and Steve slides his tongue up Eddieâs dick, and then heâs coming, eyes squeezed shut so hard he might get a headache, his fingers in Steveâs hair again, his other hands gripping one of the blankets thatâs bunched up on the mattress, and heâs gasping for breath, hips jerking. Steve pulls his fingers out, and Eddie groans, panting and blinking his open to watch as Steve leans over him, sliding his tongue over Eddieâs pelvis, licking up the come.
Eddie opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out before he can even think, and Steve hovers over him, sliding a hand over his chest as he leans down, opening his mouth and letting the come drip into Eddieâs mouth. Eddie moans, reaching up to Steveâs head and pulling him into a kiss, licking into his mouth.
He swallows when they part, and Steve kneels between his legs, breathing hard, his mouth shining.
âFuck,â he says breathlessly, touching Eddieâs thighs, squeezing.
âYeah,â Eddie agrees, closing his eyes for a moment before he pushes himself to sit up.
He reaches out to Steve, who falls against him, burying his face in his neck as Eddie wraps his arms around him, petting his hair as he looks outside. The sun is up now, shining down at them, and the sky is blue, scattered with a few clouds.
âYou okay?â he whispers to Steve, who groans, nodding.
âAre you?â
âSteve, Iâve never come that hard in my life.â
Steve giggles, sitting up to kiss him softly.
âI need to take this off,â he says after a moment, moving away and reaching down to take off the condom, hissing and wincing. Eddie watches him tie it off and put it in the plastic bag with the sandwich foil before he moves and falls onto his back, sighing heavily. Eddie smiles, moving closer, pulling his hair so he lifts his head. Eddie moves so his leg is under his head, and Steve relaxes, his expression light as Eddie combs his fingers through his hair.
Theyâre quiet.
Steveâs hand is resting on his own stomach, rising and falling with every breath, the other touching Eddieâs legs absently. Eddie plays with his hair, gazing at him basking in the sunlight, and after a few moments he reaches to touch his face, tracing lines between his moles. He continues it down his neck, watching Steve smile as he recognizes the pattern, and then his chest before he runs his fingers through his chest hair.
Steve hums softly, smiling.
âWe should probably get dressed,â Steve says after a while, his voice slurring sleepily. âIn case someone drives by.â
âYeah,â Eddie says regretfully, looking Steve up and down. He really is so gorgeous.
They dress quietly, slowly, finding sweatpants and boxers and the t-shirts they threw aside earlier. Eddie realizes everything Steve is wearing is from Eddieâs room. He pulls him into a kiss.
They get stuck there for a while, kneeling on the mattress and kissing each other slowly, arms around each other, fingers in each otherâs hair.
They tidy up when they finally part, sorting out the clothes and setting the trash bag between a bag and the wall of the van so it doesnât get lost, and then they get into the front seats. Steve gets a map out, following it with furrowed eyebrows as Eddie gazes at him, at his messy hair and wrinkled t-shirt.
âThereâs a gas station a few miles away,â Steve says after a minute, leaning to show Eddie the map. Eddie raises his eyebrows, struggling to find where they are until Steve points, and Eddie is impressed with how quickly Steve figured it out. âAnd thereâs a town a little past it, they might have a gym where we can use their showers.â
âAlright,â Eddie says, leaning over and giving him an abrupt kiss that makes his eyes widen and his lips curve into a smile before he reaches to buckle himself in. âYou ready?â
Steve looks at him, and his cheeks are pink despite everything theyâve done this morning.
âYeah,â he says. âIâm ready.â
Eddie turns the van on, and the music turns back on, low and quiet, and Steve buckles up after setting the map across his legs. Eddie waits, then reaches over and squeezes his leg, lifting his chin. Steve meets him walkway across the center console with a soft kiss. Steve is smiling when they part, and he looks out the window shyly.
Eddie pulls back into the road after checking both ways even though the roadâs been empty for hours. (Wayne would be proud.)
And then he drives, glancing to look at Steve, and even though his smile is soft and small and content, it outshines the sun.
⧠buy me a coffee // check out my commissions â
#good god#this was so much longer than it was meant to be#i know i say that every time i write something but#the majority of the plot in this did not exist in my head until i was typing it out#mind the tags <3 apparenly i cant give steve a break#steddie#steddie fanfiction#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfiction#steve harrington#steve harrington fanfiction
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does the jimmy solidarity side of trafficblr understand how desperately jimmy either needs to win OR come ridiculously close to winning for me (me specifically) to be happy
like if he wins. which he could. that would be amazing. winning after dying first every single series would be incredible and i think i would go absolutely insane. he deserves it and he definitely could if he decided to stop playing up the pathetic wet cat/'bully me itll be funny' bit. which i feel as if i always have to clarify IT'S NOT A BAD BIT!! ITS FUNNY im just saying if he Did. he could do some serious damage to the server. like if jimmy solidarity decided that he was tired of being nice and literally nerfing himself and just sort of went off with a group in the next life series i personally think he could go crazy go stupid
but here's the thing. i will be happy with him winning. but i will be equally as happy (and i'd be a dirty liar if i didn't say possibly even more happy) if he got to like. third place. hell, even fifth place. and then someone stabbed him in the back at the last second. like, someone he had been running with for the entire series just. to win. stabs him in the back.
i feel as if. and correct me if im wrong. jimmy solidarity has never been straight up betrayed before, i dont think. he even did the betraying himself in last life, but i dont think someone has ever actively turned their back on him or stabbed him in the back out of wanting to win before. hes never been seen as enough of a threat to backstab. hes one of those players that gets a group or a partner and sticks with them for the entire series. he had scott in 3rd life, the southlands in last life, and tango in double life, and i fully believe that he only doesnt betray them because he doesnt want to.
imagine it in your head. jimmy solidarity is running with someone and decides that he needs to kill them. its not that weird of a thought. jimmy, in my opinion, has enough bastard energy where you CANT say that it would be out of character for him to betray someone. he could. he just doesnt. like, dude, if you want proof he literally DID betray his group in last life. no regret, broke one of the most sacred southlands rituals and tried to run away with a life. he has enough desperate bastard energy to do it if he really wanted to. he just doesnt enjoy doing it.
so imagine the absolute shock and horror that jimmy would experience when someone does directly betray him. he picks his group, or even his partner for the next life series and that person stabs him in the back suddenly? he would be flabbergasted. jimmy has little to no self-control, but jimmy i dont think would have the gall to betray one single person. he just. i dont think he'd get it. it would be horrible. and deliciously dramatic.
imagine the animatics out of that. jimmy solidarity girlbosses his way through the entire next life series. someone dies first before him, and you see how morbid it is for him to be excited, overjoyed at someone else's death. his circumstances have made it so he is happy when another person dies. he burns things down, forms strong enough alliances that he basically is untouchable, sets traps, embraces his innate bastard energy, and when he can finally see the light of a win, when he can finally see the possibility of him actually coming first...he is ripped away from that high by a sword in the back or a trapped base.
like jesus christ that would be horrible. and amazing. i would eat it up. im a jimmy solidarity enjoyer through and through, and of COURSE i want him to win, but im not gonna lie to myself and say that him getting close and then getting it torn away from him by a friend (and lets not make that sound less than it is; jimmy's enitre life basically circles around other people. getting betrayed by a friend would be horrible for him and him specifically) wouldnt be...wonderful. surely the jimmy solidairty side of trafficblr can agree im not crazy right. right.
#this is so much longer than i meant it to be#also if jimmy didnt win i would want martyn to win#he just feels like the main character of the life series atp#but like ive been thinking this for SO LONG#i had an obsession with the song `take me to war` but like.#it was so weird because it wasnt with any actual life series dynamic#it was the hypothetical situation of jimmy popping off and getting that song assigned to him#`ill be the sweetest thing to ever scare you`#`i am always swinging at somebody i cant knock down`#`all of the ire ive swallowed / all of the **COALS** that still sit in my gut / i am always burning up`#do u people understand me#god#i love jimmy solidarity#jimmy solidarity#solidaritygaming#life series#trafficblr#3rd life#double life#last life
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I once said that I thought Steph would make a great Black Canary, and I still think that's one of the realest takes I've ever had.
Like, this moment seared itself into my head and never faded:
{ Robin 80-Page Giant }
#stephanie brown#dinah lance#spoiler#black canary#me learning about how dinah lost her cry which was as much BULLSHIT as steph's death btw okay hold on i need to get this out of my system#because they had to nerf her SO HARD for that to make sense and it STILL DIDNT BECAUSE ?????? SHE'S THE BLACK CANARY???? THAT GUY WAS A#NOBODY WITH A KNIFE ARE YOU JOKING??? and then the story that follows isnt even really ABOUT dinah it's about ollie and im so. ohhhh my god#JUST like how steph's death was largely brished aside to deal with bruce and jason's angst like. yeah i wanted there to be angst but it#wouldve been nice if it had been about HER for more than five seconds. honestly im so mixed about her death and return tbh. the way they#went about her passing was so weirdly inconsistent through the issues that bruce managing to get her to leslie in time does make sense but#then they do that weird thing with leslie and it's like ???? wha???? i go back and forth on how i feel about steph's return. on one hand i#love how she comes back more focused and stronger largely by her own means but on the other i did want#... something. i wanted her to be angry a bit longer and to deal with the complicated emotions between her 'failing' and bruce's 'failing'#and what that meant for her now. idk i love her batgirl run but it wouldve been nice if she had a bit more space to grieve herself.#anyway later in this issue dinah agrees to mentor steph for a bit and her rules are pretty much the same as bruce's when he made her robin#and if dinah had mentored steph instead of bruce she never would've died ok send tweet#wjshshsk#i love the panels of them looking at each other. dinah looking into steph's eyes and recognising the look in them.#i love how she smiles at stephanie both times. it's so gentle and kind. ily black canary#love posting on blogs where no one follows me. i can just say shit#comic ref#freya talks comics
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oh lord i love them so much its a problem
close ups (?) under the cut
#newtmas#OKAY OKAY OKAY#my take on newts design is like#a somewhat mix of book/movie but its like#70% movie#because we are a twink newt blog#but in these his hair is just a tad longer and hes not quite as twinky as in the movies#ANYWAY#my personal hc is that thomas rests his head in the crook of newts neck#and then sometimes says the most random shit ever#or does something#such as not being aware that hes actively bleeding out of his nose onto newts clothes#in this universe newt survives and goes on to live in the safe haven#so they are like#domestic here#god i love them so much#tmr#newt tmr#thomas tmr#the maze runner#tmr fandom#tmr newt#tmr thomas#tmr fanart#newtmas fanart#the maze runner fanart#the maze runner fandom#also by spirit of dylan obrien i meant like his general aura#idfk dude it just felt like his vibe???#i have no idea who he is other than basically his name and footage of him so i have no justifiable reason for that
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god help me i'm going insane about dickson xenoblade again
#this is what i get for thinking about lord of the rings too hard this week (specifically denethor / grĂma / saruman and the like)#thinking about the way anthony may delivered âwhen will you learn you HAVE no future?â#he thinks shulk is fully DEAD at that point. he thinks HE killed him. which he very much meant to. but now that the kid is no longer there#now that the terrible future he's been preparing for and actively working to bring about has in fact come about#i don't know that dickson really cared anymore. he played his part he did the deed expected and he did it unquestioningly. So What Now?#well. now nothing. now the world that he spent so long biding his time in; so long getting enmeshed in (even for nefarious purposes)#is about to end; is about to be gone forever.#sure zanza will probably just create another world and maybe he (dickson) will have Even More Power in the new one#(though that's not a given! he doesn't know for SURE his lord and god will keep his promise!)#but like. what the hell does he care at this point#dickson SAYS he wants power but i suspect that long long ago what the giant dickson really wanted was SURVIVAL.#we never get to know just how he became a disciple or what the giant civilization looked like in its heyday or how it ended#but in MY headcanon dickson saw that some kind of destruction coming and he wanted Out#and maybe he hated his peers and figured any power and prestige that came from this bargain was just a bonus#i think he thought of himself as a saruman type: powerful; remote; far above the petty troubles of mortals (even the long-lived high entia)#but i have always headcanoned that by his later days (i.e. when he started engaging w/colony 9; machina village; etc. in earnest)#he committed too hard to the bit and started âgoing nativeâ as it were; started to give a shit in ways that he would never dare admit#maybe not as much of a shit as; you know; a regular guy would. but more than an immortal disciple and horseman of the apocalypse should.#and all the time knowing that all the world he'd seen would soon be gone#maybe everyone else can get fucked. but shulk had to die too. and that's what their god MADE them to do.#he can't allow himself to care or to hope for another option bc in his mind it's already over; decided; that's it#what else can you do in the face of ultimate power but bow to it and take whatever scraps may fall to an obedient servant?#âyou have no futureâ nor does he except that shulk came back. except that the peoples of bionis/mechonis just wouldn't accept Fate.#and in some final rebellious corner of his mind he starts putting eggs in shulk's basket. âif they can't even defeat telethia they won't#stand a chance against me (or zanza)â so let's see if they CAN. oh they did? how about a dragon? oh fuck they defeated the dragon too?#well fuck. maybe there WAS another option all along. but will/can they stand against me; the final disciple? oh they can??#guess i'll die then bc i'm not looking THAT in the face. i am NOT unpacking my cowardice/failure/lack of vision after all these years.#good luck with that tho <3 you're welcome for the training btw. where i'm going i don't have to see your trauma assuming you live that long.#dickson#xenoblade
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I've been following that AITA blog for a bit now and it has me thinking about my own life situations with conflict and drama. A passive "do I have anything I could submit to that blog?" But upon thinking about it, it's like... I really find no value in asking strangers whether I'm "the asshole" in situations. There are situations where I'm clearly not at fault, situations where I was a little shit but it was justified, and at least one situation where I have a definite "Oh yeah, I was definitely the asshole there". All in the past, so it's not like I'd even need advice or anything. I already know, so what's the point?
Maybe it stems from me being a generally self-aware and self-confident kind of person. I know what's going on with myself, know when I've wronged people, & I have a mentality of "well, I'll try to not do that in the future." Even if I feel a little guilty thinking back, what's the point of asking after something when I know I'm at fault? Or situations where things were complicated and both people had fault in things, but I know I wasn't being shitty on purpose & that's what matters to me. Ultimately, it results in a bunch of strangers drawing conclusions about things I really don't care about outside input on.
Still love reading the blog tho. There's something about reading up on random people's life drama that satisfies that gossipmonger soul in me So well.
#speculation nation#i think the most blatantly YTA thing id get is when i ghosted that guy i was seeing back when i was 20 or so#wasnt ever actually dating but i made it sound like i would. very much led him on.#then realized i just wasnt into cishet guys At All and dropped him out of nowhere bc i was 20 and didnt know how to deal with feelings#objectively it was a pretty awful thing for me to do. and i feel bad that i did it.#have i ever tried to reach out and apologize tho? no lmao#it happened so long ago now i feel like itd bring more animosity than relief anyways.#id like to think ive learned from it tho. Dont Date People Just For The Hell Of It.#god it rly is my romantic history where im the biggest asshole. my prior girlfriend too#i do feel bad about that. i never meant to hurt her but that sure is what i did.#it was better to break it off when i did. wouldve been better had i did it earlier but oh well.#then as a teenager and my whole fucked up romance life then...#but NO LONGER!!!!!!!! hopefully lol. im rly into my current girlfriend and after my last one ive been dedicated to. not do that again.#cant date people just because im bored. that's never ended well for me.#i learned my lesson this time for SURE!!!!!#anyways yea id say more constently id be The Asshole in these situations. but im only human man it happens.#other situations it's usually just fucked up situations with me being a toxic little shit in response bc it's all i knew.#idk. community voting doesnt matter to me. learning from my prior mistakes and shortcomings is what matters to me.#it's interesting to see the blog tho. people are insecure about some of the most trivial things sometimes...
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