#AND ITS ONLY EVER RAP

[bedforddanes75]

if i see one more person say shit like "i cant believe people listen to rap when this exists" then play the cranberries i am genuinely going to Die

[lotrmusical]

My high school did a yearly poetry recitation contest (Poetry Out Loud), so Oh Boy do I know some poems. My favorites are Ozymandias and "the world is about to end and my grandparents are in love," by Kara Jackson. Also in 8th grade we had a Poe unit and had a class contest to make the best music video of the Raven, so I still know a good chunk of that.

i hadn't heard of the kara jackson one! just read through it and enjoyed it, particularly these lines > 'grandma returns to her love like a hymn, marks it with a color. // when the world ends will it suck the earth of all its love? /will i go taking somebody’s hand, / my skin becoming their skin?'

[roastbeasts]

huge part of being alive is self-awareness. there is an incredibly deep & rich irony to the fact that some ppl do not recognize this

[pleafyistired]

this thing i do when i have not consume anything about a media but this guy who makes art about that media is really good and im gonna follow them. And also its probably because of the sunglas- [I AM SHOT DEAD]

[snekdood]

mfs cant even dress. fuckin. wearing basketball shorts and a nondescript t shirt and short ass hair and have the gall to make fun of other people for dressing different. okay background character

[tonycries]

Sweetener - C.K.

Synopsis. You, hit by your heat cycle and accidentally calling your best friend over in a daze. Choso Kamo, your utterly sweet best friend - and totally not an aIpha, right? Right?

Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! oméga! reader, alpha! Choso, heats, best-friends-to-lovers, pining, creampíes, bréeding, Choso goes FÉRAL, OMÉGAVERSE AU, overstím, knots, MARATHONS, making him cúm blanks, MATÍNG BÍTES, cúmplay, first times (Choso), pússydrúnk Choso, oraI (fem), proposals, p talking, pet names, swéaring. 

Word count. 8.1k

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

“Open up f’me, beautiful.”

Choso Kamo was approximately four seconds away from kicking down your front door and tearing your apartment down in search of you. Or, at least, he would be if he didn’t know how much you’d huff at him afterwards.

Because it’s not everyday that his precious best friend wakes him up at 3AM with a hazy, six-second call. Mumbling nothing but an adorably sleepy “Cho— come over?” 

So what if Choso had instantly thrown on the first t-shirt he saw and broken about seven traffic violations on his motorbike here? 

“Come on, come on-” he’s hissing underneath his breath. Weight shuffling nervously between his two feet, he raps on your door once more. Twice. Thrice. “D-don’t make me use that spare key again.”

It was a half-threat - really, it was. 

But the louder your answering silence grew, the tighter his fingers curled around his own metallic key. Breathing out a low, “I’m- I’m coming in.” And slowly - ever-so-slowly - he’s cracking your door just an inch open before-

Oh. 

Oh. 

It hits Choso like a wave - hard enough to knock him down onto his knees. 

“What-” he’s gasping, heaving. Words tumbling out drunkenly in rasping ahs! that he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t even register the bright, blossoming pain sweeping his knees with the way his lungs felt like they were scorching - and Choso just couldn’t get enough. 

It wasn’t a new candle of yours, and Choso already memorized every one of your perfumes for this to be one. This was just so…carnally sweet. 

He was drinking in every drop, every ounce, every waft of that candied air inside your cozy apartment like he couldn’t breathe if it wasn’t that.

And something in the sugary scent makes Choso twitch. 

Oh, shit. 

Hastily swiping away a translucent mess of drool that’d somehow made its home by the rosy corner of his mouth, he’s straining out once more. For his sanity, more than anything. “Beautiful? Anyone home?”

Still no answer. 

Absolutely nothing. 

It takes him a few more sloppy seconds swimming his melty mind to even consider stumbling back up onto his two unsteady feet. Blinking away the bleary film over his gaze, Choso slams! your door shut with the back of his foot - cutting off the heady perfume from emanating into the corridor. 

Noise complaints from your neighbors be damned - he’ll apologize to them all personally later. 

But right now, something about the way that mysterious essence was all his, his, his scratched at such a dangerously primal itch in his brain. 

Shit- what was he even thinking?

Choso was here for you and only you. 

He’s running a jittery few digits through the sweat-dampened valleys of his hair, tugging in a stinging little pull to try and snap some sense back into him. Clearing the strangled mess in his throat, Choso smacks! his palms against his burning cheeks before calling out once more, “I’ll be coming in–”

Because it’s not as if Choso’s never been in here before - he has. Many, many times, in fact. And during every one of those hangouts you’d made it a point to pout about how he should really “let loose” and treat this home as if it was his own, too. 

Honestly, it was hard to feel anything but comfortable after knowing each other for so long - even despite those embarrassing, mushy feelings that he always drowned in around you. 

But that was a conversation for another time. 

And right now, Choso couldn’t even dream of any “comfort” when every step deeper into the saturated cloud of scent made Choso gulp. Every blink had his eyes watering even more - and his pants- fuck- Choso’s biting down on his rawly worried lower lip, eyes flickering anywhere but where he could feel his achy cock stirring. 

Something about this smell was so…hypnotic. 

And if he didn’t know any better then he’d have sworn he was practically floating down that familiar pathway to your bedroom. Feet padding down anxiously along the mahogany-covered floors, it was becoming so much harder and harder to breathe in the fragrant air without getting fucking addicted.  

Or, Choso swallows, one arm balanced on the wall, the other feeling for his thundering pulse. He probably already was. 

But what if you were sick? What if you needed help? Fuck, if he didn’t live every waking moment dancing along to your heartbeat.

That is, when he hears it. That.

Filtering from inside your bedroom…a moan. ”Ch-Choso–”

.

.

.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

You didn’t know what you were thinking, forgetting to take your monthly dosage of suppressants - you’d blame it on all the time you’d been spending studying for finals with Choso lately, but you’d never put the fault on your sweet best friend like that.

After all, he was a fellow omega like you at the end of the day. Right? 

“Fuck” You’re scrambling to clasp onto a sodden sweatshirt of his on your bed, nose burying into the slightly sunny vanilla scent. You knew it was wrong to think about him this way, you knew it was made even worse considering his second gender. But- but fuck, if he didn’t have your hands slipping and sliding guiltily down towards the slick-lathered spot between your legs. Concentrated puffs of heat stifling from between your lips, “Ch-Choso–”

Honestly, you wanted him so badly you could reach over for your phone and call-

No, no, no, no - your fatigued eyes flick over to the winking clock by your bedside. 3:26AM.

You couldn’t call him over for help now. Choso was so sweet that he’d probably rush over in his pajamas and rack up a fair few tickets on his motorbike. 

Which was why you preferred to spend your heats without his help - it had been that way since you’d both presented back in high school. 

You’d met Choso after your family had moved to the cutest little suburb in Tokyo, stumbling across the tiny boy-next-door with wide honeypool eyes and a chubby hand that waved shyly your way. Even at the wise old age of eight, you remember thinking how he was so pretty. 

Pretty enough that something your health teacher had taught in your last school clanged throughout your mind - this boy was probably an ah…what was the word? Omega. 

A quiet, comfortable understanding - and it wasn’t something that the two of you never quite had to talk about too in-depth. At least, outside of sneaking the answers to pop quizzes on secondary genders, and giggling when another classmate sauntered to school with a garish bitemark on their neck. 

But, often, you wondered whether you’d ever see Choso with that type of mark. 

He never looked at another alpha - not even another omega, or beta, for that matter. You knew that society was stepping towards a more accepting environment for rather “unconventional” pairings - but Choso Kamo seemed well and firmly intent on rejecting every single one of them. 

Instead, staying by your side. Unpaired. 

Even when he followed you all the way to university - two peas in a pod, so tightly intertwined that most wondered whether you two were mated for life. And he never bothered to disagree - but then again, neither did you.

Even when the years treated him well and he grew so tall, so unfairly attractive. All prettily timid smiles, glinting piercings marrying his ears, and dark, droopy eyes tinged with the slightest kiss of dark eyeliner. Rivalling even the most cocky alphas on your entire campus with his sheer stature and ambience. 

Like he was right now. 

Towering at the very edge of your unlatched bedroom door. 

And only one word registers in your mind - alpha. 

Choso - a Choso that was so utterly real and in the flesh - jumps once those startled syllables spill from your mouth. 

Fuck, you didn’t even realize you said that out loud. 

Not until he’s slamming! one massively spayed-out palm by the side of your doorframe. Shattered pieces of wood crumbling beneath him, you’re unabashedly ogling the flex of his curvaceous biceps. Another hand covering the lower half of his handsome face, Choso rasps. He whines, “You called, m-my omega?”

Oh.

Your entire shivering body bolts upright, like you were being electrified with a thousand voltages of bliss that make your drooling cunt gush. Treacly wafts of pheromones clouding out from you all over again - and the look on Choso’s face is just drunk.

Thick lids so heavy that they were practically falling half-closed, it’s as if his entire body was flushed a prespired red. Lips all ruddied and laminated thinly with spit, his teeth were drawn back into such a wild snarl. 

Like he was about to tear something into bits and it might be you.

So…pretty. 

It almost hurts you to dart your eyes away in an urgent glance at your suspiciously open call log - did you…really call him in your haze? Fuck. 

“Y-you’re-” You swallow a few times - and even then, the words don’t come to you. They can’t. Too stuck on what a delicacy your best friend looked all slumped over by your doorway like he was begging for you. Like he’d crawled all his way to you and would do it all over again. “You’re an alpha, Cho?”

As if you had any doubt now. You could smell the sheer power on him, the thrumming strength threatening to rip through that clingy white undershirt of his. So transparently thin that you could still count every ridge of his washboard abs. And his velvety black boxers hung low-

“Shit-” he gulps. “Yes- fuck! Y-you’re an omega?” 

You can only nod. Brows raising when Choso plants another slam right onto your doorframe, indenting all slender lanes of his digits onto it this time. “And is that…mine?”

With a sudden inhalation, you’re snatching behind that sweatshirt of Choso’s that you’d still been holding. Heart thumping - but there was nothing more to say. What could you say?

Turns out, Choso is the first to break. “L-Let me prove it.”

You’re blinking, squeezing your thighs together at the bittersweet throb. You didn’t know what had your honeyed head reeling more - the sudden reveal of Choso’s secondary gender, or his answer. His sheer need. “Prove it?”

Choso’s head hangs low, chestnut bangs covering his greedy gaze, but you could tell that he was looking at you. Really, really looking at you. 

Words dripping with something you’d never heard of before. Hoarse. Tight. “Can I…can I come in, beautiful?”

You know you should say no to letting him inside your nest - you know it. 

But oh, how it looked like it was taking him every shred of will to keep standing there. To not fucking collapse at the way your gooey pheromones have him spellbound. And he likely would have had it not been for your small, trembling answer, “Yes.”

Choso whimpers - if there was ever a singular moment that would have him crawling back from the afterlife just to re-experience all over again, then it would be this. 

When he feels something in the back of his mind switch.

Senses sharpening almost painfully with one step inside your humid bedroom. Two. 

Until Choso’s stalking so languidly towards you like a predator cornering his prey, foot by foot. He takes his dreamy time prowling towards you - all the way up until your flushed best friend is looming across the foot of the bed.

There’s something vicious in his eyes. Something that has him salivating, “Can- can I?”

You’re breathing out, “Y-yes.”

Slow, sultry fingers unfurl out to draw a steady line along your ankle - he walks. Fingers blazing up your twitchy thighs, up your drenched excuse of shorts, up, up, up to smear that delirious line of your dribble. 

“T-tell me what you want, beautiful.” He pecks an innocent kiss on your forehead, then another to your throat - heaving in your perfumed air. “Anything- I’ll give ya hah- anything.”

His words are low. Hot against your face. 

And just about the only thing you can do is slither your unsteady hands down to toy with the hem of your pants. A sight that makes Choso swallow thickly with a rasping grunt. 

“I want you to…” you’re trailing off. Fingers dipping down to where you haven’t been able to satisfy for hours now. Your inner omega yelling - screaming that nothing was enough, but he might just be. “-touch me here, Cho.”

SWAT!

Instantly, you’re letting off a saccharine mewl at the way your hand is being oh-so-rudely thwacked away by one of Choso’s own. The slight sting throbbing - but not as much as your poor cunt is when meeting his digits. 

Sliding just between your cottony shorts- oh? Choso’s heart stutters. No panties? You really are going to be the death of him. He’s lingering a dewy stroke down your teary slit, honeying his ringed fingers in all your slick juices. 

For a second - just a second.

Lightning-fast, Choso’s trailing away with a slew of spatters left behind, and it makes his skin feel ten times hotter. Ten times dirtier in only the best way.

Even more so when those very digits end up slipping easily into Choso’s mouth. One by one.  Eyes trained darkly on yours, his long pinkish tongue ends up lazily lathering up and down up and down up and down every beaded gleam of your juices.

“Y-you’re so-” your voice cracks embarrassingly - pathetically, in a way that makes every copious ounce of blood in his body sprint south. “-filthy.”

Pulling off with a waterlogged pop! Choso’s tongue probes between his two long fingers, smacking his lips open and shut with the sticky dredges. And you swear you catch a whiff of smugness in his scent. Yet, he’s blushing, “All for you- only for you, my girl.”

And you can’t even complain - you can’t even tease him about the way that just another mere touch up against your feverish pussypound has Choso gasping. Eyes crinkling with something like delight and sheer awe.

Because he’s crashing his mouth into yours, suckling on your lips like his favorite berry lolly-

“Sh-shit-” Choso’s rich tone cracks into shattering lilts, and you can hear him laugh against your lips. Laugh. Humorless and crazed - pure desperation bleeding out with every swash of his intoxicating vanilla scent. “Beautiful— you taste even sweeter than in my ngh- dreams, y’know that?”

No, you didn’t - you didn’t even know that Choso dreamed of you in the first place. 

And you don’t get to pay it any mind because before you know it, the swirling edge of his rounded fingertips tuck just past where your puffy folds were pursing in a ready pucker. Cold metal rings making you gasp.

And Choso’s greedily snuffing out the sound with a sinking bite of his sharpened canines into your wobbly bottom lip. Drinking in every noise from his pretty girl. His pretty girl. 

Cratering dimples notching prettily at the ends of his lipbite, he’s practically begging them out with every slow gyration of his fingertips around and around your peaked clit. Tracing over every tiny ridge and sensitive bundle like he was trying to fucking memorize it. “H-has any other- fuck-” Ringing out a thundering growl at the back of his throat that makes your skin coat in tiny goosebumps. “-has any- other- made you feel this good?”

No no no - your inner omega purrs, and you can practically feel yourself groaning lowly at the back of your throat when you pull away. 

Trying - failing, when Choso’s chasing your kiss-bitten lips like he was hooked. Slurring after the syrupy strings of spit that smear the traces of your mouth, he’s meshing his lips in a dramatic smooch. Again. And again. And again and again-

“L-look how wet ya are…” And it wasn’t even a command, but you can’t help lolling your head down to blink at the way his pale wrist was glistening with all your laminated juices. Musing, “Gonna make ya feel so fuckin’ good. So good.”

Two deft fingers pinch your clit. Hard.

“Ah! N-no!” Your spine bends into such a pretty curve off the bed, perfectly in position for Choso to slide his massive palm underneath and massage away your tensely knotted back. Your fingers are trekking up the clamoring hike onto his broad deltoids to feel the droolworthy jolt of his back muscles. Babbling belatedly, “N-no other alpha has made me feel s-so…”

So…what?

Hypnotized? Addicted? Gone?  

But whatever it was, the sight of you being ruined into a few shattered jumbles of limbs is enough to make Choso’s alpha hum. 

Whispering out, “Can I…” And with a steep inhale of the thick surrounding air, he’s gulping. “C-can I-”

Before you’re gracing him with an answer, you’re helping inch those sleep shorts down. Snailing an almost-blasphemous slicked coat that seeps into your skin. He’s twirling his thumb over the remaining excess left behind - not wasting a single drop. 

And it takes only one saturated hit from where your pheromones were the most concentrated - only one shy peak down at your drooling cunt - before Choso can feel his mind shattering. Gasping. 

The top half of his body all but collapsing on top of yours.

It’s not even on purpose the way he flinches at the thick curve of your thumb floating upwards to tenderly glide away the swab of drool that was flooding Choso’s mouth right now. 

His neat brows quirking upwards, heaving chest choppy - you’re so lustily trapped against the bumped-up planes of his pecs. Feeling the rumble of his heated words, “I-I’ve never…” 

Sounding so utterly worn-out already, Choso’s planting a few firm pecks at the corner of your chin. He’d meant for it to reach your lips - but he couldn’t. Too in a trance to even think about it. And as if to make up for it, he’s kissing your neck, the valley of your thighs, your tummy. Every and any inch he hasn’t been blessed with reaching for the past few years. 

Shuffling all the way until he was practically lips to lips with your sloshing pussy, eyeing down directly at the way your sloppy entrance was welcoming him with another fresh bout of clingy slick. Choso heaves in a long breath.

“Been waitin’ a looong time f’you, y’know? Can I make a mess?” Choso’s whining sweetly, greedy gaze still trained firmly downwards. Tenderly rubbing over your glossed-up folds, “Can I m-make you break?” And those grasping begs of his are barely even audible over the sheer squelching resonating from your slobbery pussy. Your jaw falls slack at how they only make Choso nod. “Y-you’re right- s-so right–”

Talking. And before you know it, the filthiest French kiss is being placed right on your cunt. 

He’s not even hesitating, not even easing you into it - because Choso Kamo has waited so long for this. And he was going to have his fill.

“This is what y-you taste like- this good?” Dragging the very pointed tip of his pretty button nose down your plump clit, he’s smushing it in place with a firm kiss at the very edge of your snug hole. “Th-think this cute cunt can take my fuckin’ cock, beautiful?”

So fucking impatient. 

You’re tangling one set of fingers into the stray strands of his hair, bucking up to drag a slow glide down the lower half of his pretty face. 

And, usually, with an alpha you could be expected to be snapped at with a snarling command. An instruction to just stay put. 

But Choso’s only letting his sharp jaw comfy against the silken sheets, head nuzzling drunkenly into your thighs when you’re pushing and pulling him as you please. Leveraging the vice-like grasp on his scalp to drive steady grinds just the way you like it. 

Whining, “Need you so bad, baby–” 

“Yeah- yeah, use me-” Choso snickers around a teasing bite against the fattened edge of one of your pussy lips. Sucking. “R-reach your pretty high on my face, omega- need you to cum all over me till I-I’m dripping.”

Fuck.

Was this really your nervous, sweet best friend? His words were so dirty, as if he didn’t even realize he was saying them. And they almost make you embarrassed. Shying way just an inch-

“Oh- no. No no no-”  His words come buzzing around your clit, and with a final bite of his elongated canines, Choso’s frantic. He’s scrambling. He’s grasping his powerful arms to loop your thighs and dragging you to him like some ragdoll down the protestingly creaky bed. “S’gonna go to waste- can’t- can’t let it.”

And it’s only about then that you’re dredging up the courage to angle your head further downwards - immediately hit with the sinful sight of Choso in heaven between your limp legs. 

His hair a disheveled curtain, eyes narrowed and smudged with eyeliner. Damply bleeding down onto the regal apples of his high cheekbones at the way your meady slick was reaching his blushing cheeks. It masks his coral pink lips, his jaw, his fucking chin. 

So sopping wet that it’s forming a little puddle down below him that Choso could never even imagine being disgusted by. No, in fact, he was disappointed with himself for not lapping it up even sooner. 

Pumpish lips jutting out in a pout, Choso’s pushing away the hair from his eyes sexily. “Wh-why are you runnin’ away- don’t run away, my girl.”

With a slight giggle, you’re veering your scent to tinge with something comforting. And oh, does it do the trick - because Choso’s eyes swoop downwards drunkenly. Almost closed, almost ruined, he’s huffing out a drawled-out mantra of your name, “Lock it.”

“Wh-what?” You’re choking out.

Soft palms massage gently down your legs, wrapping them around the back of his head. “Lock it.”

Oh.

That was a command, and it has your body pulling taut. Every sensory spot all down your skin screaming to obey - yet, this is something you would have done anyway. Ankles tying together, it’s jostling Choso’s hotly open mouth against your pussy so deeply that you wonder whether he doesn’t have to breathe. 

Whether he doesn’t even want to. 

Because your dear best friend looks so satisfied to die right in the heaven between your legs right now. And he would go such an utterly happy man, too. 

Rosy red lips rubbing rawly against your clit, you’re left a puddle of a needy mess when the roughened tastebuds of his tongue swirl in meticulous little circles. Cheeks hollowing as he sucks, your whines can’t even be heard over the most oozy squelches.

“Heheh- she’s talkin’ back ta me-” Choso’s sputtering out peck after peck. In awe. “She’s talking. Th-think she wants ngh- more.”

More. 

More, more, more. 

Choso’s beginning to think that your dripping pussy’s speaking for himself with the way that’s exactly what he wants right now. Teasing the mushy outer lips of your puckered hole with his fat fingerpads, before bullying in. Inside. 

You’re taking him so well - hips careening even further downwards when he’s feeding your greedy cunt with every long inch of his digits. Slow enough that you could count it - just about six, ringed inches all the way to his knuckles. 

Shit- it’s so hot inside, as if your pretty pussy was practically melting around him. Molding to his every shape as Choso’s driveling swirling around in rummaging little stripes down your gummy walls. Slow. Slick. 

Slender cylindrical intrusions that bump up deftly against your battered g-spots. The chilling stretch of his banded metal rings was too much. Your eager cunt is splattering out a pornographic little gush of your sweet, sweet juices all over again at the way he’s teasingly fondling over that magical spot. 

“J-jus’ a little higher, baby–” you’re spewing out. Deprived. 

And oh, Choso’s darkened eyes are practically lighting up. He doesn’t pull away from your bruised clit to answer - not even to breathe before vibrating out a keening, “Here?”

So desperate. 

Even needier than you. 

You’re blinking through large, globular tears that occupy the space behind your lids. Nodding, “A little more- jus- oh!”   

And Choso didn’t need to hear it from your lips. Hell, he didn’t even need to hear it from the way your snug channel was all but milking his fingers dry. Clinging on in a soppy kiss when he’s probing into your g-spot harder. Meaner. Because the way your intoxicating scent changes - concentrating ever-so-slightly makes Choso realize that you’re cumming before even you register it.

Slamming headfirst into your high, you’re plowing out a belated cry of “I- fuck- m’cumming, Cho. M’cumming, m’cumming-”

Sparks of white splinter your vision, and your knees find themselves just wrenching free from the lecherous comforts of the bed - but Choso won’t let you escape so easily. 

No. 

Barely batting an eye, he’s straining his biceps deadlocked around your legs. Pinning you to the bed until you could barely squirm, barely do anything but take his punishing little clashes against your g-spot head-on. Bumping in. Over and over. 

Choso suckles on your clit like his favorite little gummy, stretching and nibbling until you see stars with your orgasm. 

“Don’t run away-” he’s puffing out into your cunt, the very idea of parting with drizzling pussy making him yelp out a pained grunt. “P-please don’t run away- I promised to make a mess. O-one more f’me, beautiful?”

You’re just molten at his touch. Ravenous and overwhelmingly greedy for you as much as you were for him. Something carnal inside you screaming for more-

“H-hear her?” His eyes are drifting closed at the pulpy little noises your cunt mashes on. Dangling ear piercings twinkling when he’s leering even closer to hear. “Tellin’ me she’s gonna give her- hngh- alpha one more.” Fuck, Choso’s features decorate with the most blazing blush at his own words. How embarrassing. “Wontcha use my mouth all over again? I didn’t get fuuuuck- messy ‘nough last time…”

And as if to prove his point, Choso traces a slow glide of his worked tongue across the sloppily wet coating that drips down his lips. Just for a second.

Your veins bubble sensitively with need at the broken whine sounding from the back of Choso’s throat when you drag him even snugger between your legs. Puffs of leaky pheromones driving the two of you wild, making your hips stutter out a slurring pace up and down his face. 

“Th-this pussy is all f’me- isn’t it, my girl? S’all f’me?”

Even sloppier once you battle out a nod.  

Your cunt is extra slobbery because of your heat anyways, but Choso’s making such a mess on purpose. 

Eyes running away to the back of his head, tongue lolling out even messier. He’s planting such dousing draws of saliva, lathering your sweet spots mercilessly. And his fingers- oh, his fingers were relentless. Shovelling up in solid, wet nudges until you’re able to feel every circular indent of his digits on your g-spot. 

Every run of his manicured nails across where you’re sure you were beginning to get bruised. And every-so-often whenever his eyes glaze green with raw greed - with slight, stupid jealousy over his fingers - you’d peek at Choso plunging his digits into his mouth and sucking.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Matching the lecherous sound of your thundering heartbeat, you can feel yourself squeal at the overstimulating touches. Sobbing out the cutest little whines that make Choso chuckle, “Easy– easy there, my girl.” Letting your cunt free with a sodden pwah! only to spit. Once. Twice. A sticky wad of his thick saliva that blusters its way to coat your puffy pussy lips, “You’re cumming again, right? A-all over my face?”

You’re nodding - nodding and nodding so hard, but that wasn’t enough for Choso Kamo. 

He wasn’t satisfied until a slow pull of your clit right from between his pearly whites had you bawling out. The backs of your hands dipping upwards to hide your face - which he quickly, and calculatedly spanks away with his free hand. “M’gonna cum soon- ngh- please- Cho- don’ stop.”

Hah, if this was any other time then Choso might’ve laughed. 

Might’ve teased you until you were begging for him in that cute voice once more. But maybe it’s the way his alpha was clawing at his chest from the insides to give you whatever you want, maybe it was the way seeing you fall apart on your heat like this all over him had his cock twitching-

Because Choso only smiles - drunk. Dazed. “Cum f’me, p-please. Ruin me, ma’am..”

He was ruined alright. 

Absolutely sugar-coated with your overlaying juices - it’s dripping down his bed and disappearing into the now see-through fabric of his undershirt like a badge of honor. A badge to say that he’s made you cum for the second time on his mouth. 

That he’s made you squirt. 

Splattering out all over his face with every slurping taste - and yet, Choso still couldn’t get enough. Sweeping up the milky droplets, Choso’s boring his heady gaze right into your widened eyes when he’s leering his mouth agape to make you spy the way each splash slides down his throat. 

God- you’re seeing white all over again. You’re seeing spots, having you gulp in necessary gasps of the soiled air to once more regain your steady heartpace. 

“Ch-Choso-” you’re struggling, voice brittle and gone. Frantically trying to haul - to force - Choso from his favorite home between your cunt, to stop his greedy tongue. “S’enough- can’t cum anymore can’t- ngh-”

“But, beautiful–”

Shit- it would be so easy to get swept up all over again. Because Choso was parched, and he was still far from having his fill. 

Words tinting with a slightly commanding tone, you’re making something dark and primal rear its head when you manhandle him upwards with one hand in his locks, and another on his undershirt. So heavy but pliant. 

Up, up, up-

“Choso–” you’re mumbling out. And before you know it, Chosos hands had toppled you over into the cushiony mattress, and yours were tracing the edge of his too-tight boxers. Tugging. Needy. “I-I want these- off-”

“Anything.” He’s echoing, like it was all that he could right about now. Dewey brows scrunching up into something of a beg, you’re catching the way his Adam’s apple bobs. Deprived. “Anything f-for you-”

Fuck- in your currently woozy state you’re not sure if Choso removed his pants or if he ripped them off. Stumbling and tripping to let the few scarce tatters droop into the floor in a sullen pile. 

With a gulp, your fingers skitter across the planes of his useless undershirt - letting his pretty, bulging muscles peek out at you from underneath when you slide them off of him. Palms smearing in gluttonous little touches across his push pecs, down his rippling abs, down that lusciously dark happy trail and oh-

“S-something the matter, beautiful?” Choso’s heaving in a struggling gulp at the way your gorgeous eyes widen, maw slacking into a soft oh! Head tilting innocently, “M’your hah- best friend, you can tell me a-anythin’.”

“You’re just so…” Comes the whirling answer, your voice slow and alcoholic. He was getting drunk on your words already. “...big.”

Not only was Choso big - he was massive. 

The fat, rotund circle of his head ruddied a strawberry pink, gradiating all the way down his shaft to meet blend into his creamy base. He was so hard that it looked painful, visibly throb! throb! throbbing, bumpy lightning bolts of his veins hammering up at you cheekily. He was so pretty - thick enough that you’re feeling your cunt clench already. Even the burn of your stare has Choso’s reddish divot weeping out a few ropey spurts of pre. Making you dizzy with the incredible size and that musky vanilla scent of his. 

And was that-

Oh. Fuck.

It was.

Through the honeyed slew of precum pooling at Choso’s thick tip, you’re gasping at the slight wink of something metallic. 

Without thinking - without even breathing - you’re drifting your hand down to thumb those syrupy globules thin. Discovering the absolute treasure chest that was a studded Prince Albert’s piercing right near the weepy edge of Choso’s shaft. 

“I got if for- you- Gotta a-another one, y’know-” His gentle rasp jolts you out of your sinful reverie, engulfing hands guiding your own to wrap around his flushed tip and peek under. Right on the slippery sliver of his slit, “A ngh- matching one. Th-thought you might like it…”

Oh- two. 

And, embarrassingly, you can feel the way your scent turns headier. Hypnotizing. Enough so that Choso can’t help the way he’s hanging by a bare thread, head falling into the crook of your neck to breathe in. “Y-you act so innocent but…” 

“But m’only l-like this for you.” He’s tucking your tender earlobe between his teeth. “P-promise. I haven’t even…”

Ah, a virgin. 

Sweet and absolutely gifted. 

And something about it was so cute the way Choso was acting exactly like it. Every wordless toy of your fingers up and down his sensitive glans, making him snarl a lipbite. Girthy length fucking up in shuddering slams into the cushiony tunnel of your palm. Weightily muscled abs flexing with heat when you’re running a thumb under his head to press down on that silver piercing. 

“S-so tiny- heh- your pretty hands are so tiny takin’ my cock, beautiful.” he’s giggling - giggling. Perspiration-simmered forehead knocking into yours, Choso’s letting his tired head loll there and bore into your eyes. “You needa ngh- fuck! Needa slow down, my girl, m’already so close jus’ from making out with yer sweet c-cunt out.” Already close. Just from eating you out. “Else m’n-not gonna be able to control it-”

“I can handle it–” you’re pouting stubbornly. Soft digits clenching even tighter around his cock, and shit, Choso lets his head fall into the junction between your shoulder and your neck. 

Finding himself growing more needy. More feral. Tight, hot curdling in his stomach building up and up.

“M’serious.” His lilting voice breaks, teeth skimming over the pulpy flesh of your sweetened pheromone glands. Nibbling. His incredibly shaky fingers wrap around your shoulders, “Please- ngh- please m’gonna break ya.”

And it’s like you wanted him to.

Dick twitching at those filthy fingers of yours - the way they only pump him faster. And faster. Tighter around the hefty base, more teasing up the slippery slope of his tip - like you were trying to milk out something delicious. 

And you can already feel the way your mouth lathers with a fresh coating of saliva, face inching closer and closer to the bawling peak of his swollen cock. Wanting oh-so-badly to taste the silver of his Prince Albert’s. 

“But I want you to, Cho.”

SMACK!

You’re left stupidly stunned when Choso’s behemoth palm coils like a tight shackle around your tender throat. Pulling you away from his achy cock in a flash, you’re being thrown around like his own personal ragdoll. 

And Choso snickers at the way you’re bouncing cutely on the plush mattress, legs drooping wider and wider agape with every sleazy second he really can’t help but leer over you. Wrangling those boneless legs of yours over his shoulder with a sharp click of his tongue. 

“I-I already told you, beautiful–” he’s bending down, down down to nose along your sweat-dotted cheeks, your skin stark hot against the icy chain of his silver necklace. Chest grumbling with a slight purr. “M’gonna make such a mess of you- can I?”

And that drunken look in Choso’s eyes made him look like he would absolutely shatter if you let your lips shape into a teasing no right about now. Like those warm, salted tears spattering from the corners of his half-lidded eyes and right onto your cheeks would only hasten. 

“Can I- please, my girl- jus’ wanna-” His lips wobble adorably when his sobbing cock glides a slow line between the mushy lips of your pussy. A graze for a graze of his mouth down your own. “-wanna make you mine.”

And just the tip - just a single fat inch shoved into your gummy hole is all it takes for Choso to whimper. 

You’re brushing over his precious cheek, “Ch-Cho, are you okay?”

And Choso can’t answer - hell, he doesn’t think he could even if he wanted to. Because that gushing little clench of your clingy walls all around his sodden wet tip absolutely ruins him. Delicate rivulets of slobber streaming down the smiling edges of his tongue, he’s puffing out an open-mouthed, “No- fuck- d-do I look okay?”

He didn’t.

He seemed like he was burning up - fucked-out already, practically. Pecs rippling with a bolting flex, muscled body shirking with violent shivers when with a low keen of your name - Choso’s cumming. 

“No-” he’s crying out, head flailing backwards. Just from putting it inside for the first time. “No no no no- m’not s’pposed to- yet-”

But he was. Hips recklessly meandering again and again into yours - slight, tugging grinds of just his thickened tip like Choso was afraid of sinking into your heavenly pussy anymore. Like he knew it would break him even more. 

Have him flooding out voluminous ribbons of thick seed, splattering against your spongy channel, and smearing around in dripping vertical patterns with every one of his animalistic ruts. 

“Give it t’me–” you’re locking your ankles even tighter. Prattling out such filthy nonsense that you’re sure you’d get embarrassed about had you not been in your heat. “I-I need your cum, baby- wan’ it allll inside me-”

“Ngh-” Choso’s letting off a broken sound at the back of his throat, squeezing your own with that one hand of his happily making its home there. Blocking off your airway, your heady pheromones only struggle to waft out even more. Saturating. “D-don’t talk like that- n-not outta ya pussy, beautiful.”

“But I w-ngh! want it-”

He gulps, “A-are you sure?” Because this is his best friend - this is the one person he’d never even dreamt of having because that was too dangerous. Too fanciful. The one person he’d written about in every diary, and gotten teased for it by his family just the same. Perfect. 

Yet, you’re so stubborn when you’re in heat. “Mhm– wan’ you to…breed me.”

And he loved it.

Couldn’t get enough of it - or you. 

Choso’s scrambling up one of his jostling hands to latch your hips into a perfect almost-semicircle. Lower lip worried underneath his canines when he’s wiping his fat thumb over the dewdrops of seed treacling from your soppy slit. 

That digit finds its way rummaging between your lips, “Lock it.”

This time, you don’t need it said twice - you don’t even need it to be a command.

Because Choso’s reigning up his own hand to pin both your ankles behind his head, and you think you’ll forever remember just how hot he looked this way. Biceps bulging with the strain, simmering with a slick sheen of perspiration, and his hips-

Oh, it’s like any and every slip of restraint in Choso’s hulking body snapped. 

Because with a loud, saturated squelch! you’re being filled up to what it feels like your lungs with every solid inch of his engorged girth. Inflating your tender insides, buttering your poor cervix with a thick stream of pre when he’s kissing it with a wet thwack!

“Oh- oh.” Choso’s head pushes into the crook of your neck, into your pillow until you were sure that it was soaked with tears of absolute bliss. “Th-this feels nothing l-like my ngh- hand. S’so much more heavenly-”

Yet, you weren’t in the right state of mind to be paying attention to the utter filth that was spilling from your innocent best friend’s mouth. Breath choking up in a lead ball in your throat, you whisper, “Ch-Cho…s’that your knot?”

Your slicked-up folds puckering up in a wet snog against the overinflated ring ballooning around his thick base. The sheer thumping circumference of it makes you squeeze-

“Y-yes–” he’s humming out. The sodden base of his cock thwack! thwack! thwacking your bruising entrance when he’s rutting in and out. Sloppy. Slow. Still trying not to see stars. “God- s’even softer than I ngh- imagined.”

And soft you were. 

This is what your sweet pussy felt like? This good? This should be fucking illegal, he was babbling out - but wouldn’t realize until much, much later. 

Being spearheaded open with every unapologetic rifle to fill you up, the leftover dredges of Choso’s seed trickle a slippery pathway leading him to ambush your g-spot head on. Stubbing his cool metal piercing into your sweetened bullseyes so hard, you swear you could feel the indenting divot of that sinful Prince Albert’s.

“There?” Mesmerized, his eyes grow wide. “R-right there?”

And he’s hot - so feverish. 

Glissading body on top of yours burning up with radiating heat, fracturing our rationality just as much as the sweet vanilla scent of his pheromones were. That tiny heart friendship charm on his necklace hitting your collarbones in a dirty staccato. 

You can feel yourself start to drool with how stupid Choso’s cock was fucking you, curling a few neat raking lines down his statuesquely muscled back. It makes him just arch his cock even deeper to jostle your snug insides riotously. 

“I-imagined about me a lot?” Ah, you’re finding it in yourself to smirk.

Something that Choso’s jackhammering out in quick, increasingly sloppy juts of his hips. Slathering the entirety of his cock with your slicked juices. 

“O-of course.” He’s shifting his eyes gingerly away from yours with a boyish blush. But now that Choso had started talking, he couldn’t stop. “Always wan’ed to f-fuck you through a rut or h-heat like this- to-” Couldn’t keep from hiking up a flattened foot to angle his pierced cockhead into every untouched inch inside you. The special upright curve of his shaft driving you mad. “-to absolutely ruin you and-” The hand at your legs hover right over where he was plummeting your insides with gluey kisses - your womb. “-and make you mine. Ours.”

Ours. 

God, just the mere act of confessing those embarrassing little words had Choso’s hulking body practically melting into yours. 

It’s like his abs were made of adhesive, massaging up and down your front. Drowning you into the plethora of wrecked sheets and him when he’s collapsing on top of you - but still going. Still placing pound after pound. 

“I-I want that too-” And you think you hear Choso sharply gasp, but you can’t confirm over your popping ears. “Always wanted it- ah- wanted you to fuck a baby into me, Cho.”

SLAM!

The slowly-splintering bedframe creaks when one particularly harsh rut has the headboard slamming into the wall behind. 

And that’s all he needed to hear. 

A baby - he wants a baby. He needs one - and this wasn’t just his alpha talking - and he was going to get it.

All that Choso thinks he ever could hear all through his honeyed mind for the rest of his life. Replaying it over and over in his mind like his favorite catchy tune. 

You don’t miss the way that he looks so in love above you, gaze practically heart-eyed and gone. Choso’s raw, swollen lips meteor shower your face with peck after peck - just in time with the collisions of his rounded tip into your sweet spots. 

“Boy or girl?”

“H-huh?” you’re questioning, barely-lucidly. 

“Boy or girl.”

And after those senseless little answers are falling from your lips, Choso’s brushing a hand over your lower tummy. Pushing. Hard. Until his twitchy knot was covered in buttery residues of cum, “Ah- a-always wan’ed a daughter with ya first. With your c-cute smile and ngh- eyes.”

Huffing out an embarrassed, “Choso.”

And he’s only scooping back in the leaky sediments of seed that he’s responsible for making a mess of. Turning a slow thumb right over your tight ring of muscle, “Gonna have my- ngh- style of course, heh- you’d be the best momma. D-don’t care if you’re my best friend, m’gonna breed ya until you’re overspilling, beautiful.”

You needed it so badly. Your heat turning up a notch until it felt like you were boiling from the inside out, candied scent drifting more. 

He’s giggling out, dark lashes batting without his permission. “M’gonna- ngh- take care of you-”. The hand caressing your elastic entrance flies upwards to get cleaned off by his own tongue - before prying your jaw sagging open to spit. “Goood fuckin’ care. N’ hopefully you’ll end up p-pregnant…hopefully.”

He’s encircling the dip in your waist and dragging you forwards to smack against his washboard abs. Unable to squirm. Unable to run away. “Gonna be the p-prettiest momma- the ngh- most beautiful.” Other hand restricting your throat so cozily that your vision tinges with black, “Gonna be mine.”

And when you’re cumming, it’s with those exact words in mind.

The way your sopping walls were milking him for all he’s worth - so greedily - shoving Choso to tip over the edge, too. 

Choso’s letting his body sexily cave into yours, not breaking even a mere inch apart when he’s got you trapped and overfilled with every dollop of his cum icing your insides. And right now you could already feel the way your scents were mixing, the way Choso turns slightly cross-eyed- 

Before sharply turning to your glands and biting. 

Hard. 

His predatory canines break through your epidermis layer like butter, a crimson lipstain gushing from the wound and staining his lips a handsome rouge. 

And - only belatedly, once your omega’s snapping at you with her teeth bared - do you realize that it’s your turn to do the same. As if you would want any other. 

Locking your jaw to dig into his pale, dampish throat, Choso sucks in his cheek to muffle the slightest whine when you’re wringing him through every speck of bliss he could possibly ever feel in a lifetime. Furious cock stuttering out a few more lazy wisps of cum at the mingling feeling of finally being yours. 

“Not ‘nough-” He’s eyeing the leftover ring of cum painting his knot, “Can I fill ya up m-more? Please? Please- my girl.”

You’re pulling away with a woozy nod to rub your thumb over the dug indents of your teeth, gently soothing slow circles over the feral sting. 

Filling you up over and over with each pound, he’s fucking you into the mattress like he hates you. And he’s fucking you like every shuddering ram had a creamy ounce of cum pouring into your gummy walls. Glueing in wet splats against your g-spot, your cervix, like a second sloppy skin. 

Generous helpings of cum drifting into almost blanks-

“Heh- haaaah- y’know tha’s makin’ me still c-cum, beautiful.” Choso’s leaving sodden kisses on your own mark, your lips. “M’sorry m’sorry I- I can’t stop- I just- can’t.”

And it’s sheer animal nature in you that’s screaming at you that you don’t want him to stop until you’re sure it takes. That’s bending down a hand as much as deftly as possible to wrap around Choso’s slightly softening cock - that only tuts in impatience. 

“Wh-when I said inside-” You’re pumping his soaked base as much as possible, feeling the stiffening twitch at his tip buried inside you. “-I mean- inside-”

It’s like you’re being split-apart - like you couldn’t be any fuller if you tried. 

And, yet, only the very curvaceous top of Choso’s inflated knot had bullied its way in-between your lewdly stretched hole. Gaping a pathway so incredibly girthy that it makes you scrunch your brows, head tumbling backwards. 

“Oh- oh, my greedy, greedy girl.” But Choso doesn’t look one bit admonishing - not one bit. Slithering a hand down to your cunt, he’s steamrolling two thick pads of his fingers. Rubbing up against your squeamish walls, scissoring your tight entrance so amply open. “I can put it…inside. R-really, really inside?”

Oh, Choso doesn’t know what blessings he’s received in his past lives. But absolutely nothing could have prepared him for how swelteringly hot and cushy you were around his fat knot. 

Swallowing up the bulging circlet, plugging up your seeping slit safely so that you’re not spilling a single glutinous splotch of his cum. So that it will take. It’s such a tight fit. Such a burning stretch. You felt so full you could burst with every throb of his swollen knot probing your walls. 

Ah, you look so pretty this way.

And Choso’s half-wishing he had a camera to capture this moment. With his lips pressing a few syrupy kisses along every inch of skin he could reach. Somewhere near your tummy - so full and slightly inflated with the copious amounts of cum that were dumped inside you. 

He’s murmuring something drunken - something you probably weren’t even supposed to hear. But at the curious tilt of your head, your best friend chews over his lips nervously. 

And a giddy smile plasters across your face at the saccharine love in your best friend’s eyes - the way he was probably mulling over asking you out on a date. There was no turning back at this point, and your omega purred in agreement as you got ready to say yes. For him to say a sweetened- 

“Marry me.”

A/N. You show up at the next Itadori family dinner with a ring and Sukuna has an actual heart attack.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[syrinq]

love the posts that advocate for "basic common sense non-dickish behaviour that all people should adhere to" regarding racism, sexism, ableism, etc.

and then some idiot has to set up the age ol' "us vs. them" mentality. ohhhhhh it's the cishet white people. ohhhhh it's all the cops ever. ohhhhhhhh it's t-

[anhedonyan]

My take on this shit is: you don't have to force yourself to listen to something you don't like, if you don't like it you don't like it I guess, but you don't need to write a 2000 word post excusing yourself. Just don't listen to it idk.

[dromaeo-sauridae]

a) stop justifying the ways in which you dont like country in my tags just scroll past, yall are shaving years off my life 😭

b) there HAS to be an overlap between the country hate and the rap hate but im not strong enough to make an essay on it. my immediate thought is the classism/racism overlap. if yall have more thoughts off the top of your head im open to listen. idk why people are so insane over music genres

i am sick to death of the hatred of country music. dont give me any bullshit. dont say “but post 9/11 pop country—“ dont give me the “its all about beer and jeans and jesus—“ look me in my eyes and tell me an entire genre of music you cannot be assed to listen to sucks. youre weak and your bloodline is weak.

[hwaflms]

HAPPY NOW? ★ [ j.jh ]

your family has been pressuring you for months to bring your boyfriend, jaehyun, over for dinner, and you think it’s really sweet that they like him so much. the only problem is that your “boyfriend” jaehyun, hates you.

———————————————————————

[☆] PAIRING. ex!jaehyun x f!reader

[☆] GENRE. angst, smut, fluff | fake dating?, exes to ??? au

[☆] WC. 19.9k (i don’t even know)

[☆] WARNINGS. angst, reader has anxiety, mentions of anxiety attacks, fighting, reader be lying a lot, reader has a little sister, crying, reader is kind of a dumbass, explicit content (piv smut), unprotected sex (don’t do this gang!), fingering, sex in public kinda, pls lmk if i forgot anything!!

[☆] NOTES. i’m so fucking annoyed with tumblr it’s not letting me insert images properly UGH this took me over 2 hours to upload man 🗣️ im pretty proud of this one ‼️ idek how it got this long but it’s my longest fic yet and it’s been sitting in my drafts for ages until i finally got the inspo to write it :p i want jaehyun so bad it’s not even funny tbh but anyway PLS GIVE ME FEEDBACK/A REBLOG LITERALLY ANYTHING IS APPRECIATED <33

———————————————————————

six months.

you haven't seen this door in six months.

it's funny because, this was a door you used to push open and walk through every other day, yet now you stand on the opposite side of it, unsure as to whether you should even be thinking of knocking.

your hand is raised to the door, shaped like a fist but you make no move to actually knock. you were aware that you still had time to bail out of this, that you could turn on your heel and make your merry way back to your sad little house and go back to pretending you're happy with the choice you made six months ago.

or you could just do what you came all the way here to do.

the weather seems to be in your favour, at least. the sun shines radiantly, making the temperature warm, but not too warm, and a cool breeze travels through the air in short intervals. the summer had begun early, birds chirping in their habitual singsong way and wild bougainvillea already flowering in various shades of pink and lilac. usually when the day starts off with good weather, the rest of it follows suit, and thus your day is made better. hopefully, this is the case for you today.

pausing for a short, morale-boosting intake of air, you tighten your fist and knock, knock, knock on the mahogany door, immediately regretting your decision as you feel your stomach churn and plummet. a good ten seconds pass, and you hear no reply nor movement from the inside of the house, and part of you is relieved because that means he may not be home.

more than happy to do a 180° and skip along joyously back to the metro that would take you home, your feet begin to make for that trip but your mind decides against it. you know that you are being overly dramatic, but even with being aware of this, your heart rate does not slow down one bit. you also know that what you've come here to do is more than just selfish, its pathetic and rather embarrassing. it's also a hugely unsavoury request, and if your roles were reversed, you'd most definitely laugh in his face and shut the door.

finally somewhat making up your mind with a quiet groan, you raise your clenched fist and rap against his front door again in a set of three. you nervously shift your weight from your right to your left foot, then back to your right and then once again to your left, the anxiety and anticipation not allowing you to stand still and relax, thinking that if he doesn't answer this time, you really will just return home.

"hold on, i'm coming!", a hurried, muffled voice calls from inside the house and you don't think your heart has ever beaten this fast in your life. not even during the one time you ran a marathon to prove a point to your friend chenle, and while you did show him that you didn't only run to get away from spiders, your body took its own sweet time to recover from that.

now you hear footsteps approaching the door from the opposite side of it, and you don't think you can handle anymore of this tortuous, build up of a wait because you are quite literally one step away from calling it a day and just sprinting your way out of there, just like you did on the last few metres of the aforementioned marathon, and you know he's nearing the door because the footsteps are getting clearer and clearer, and soon he's going to open the door, take one look at you and just slam the door right in your face, but not before spewing verbal explosives at you, which would be totally deserved since he has every right to just spit on you and tell you how you're a terrible, downright horrible human being completely unworthy of forgiveness and-

"sorry for making you wait so long, i was-"

if your heart rate was at its maximum speed before, now it just stopped.

standing in front of you, in the flesh, was the man who's heart you broke six months ago.

jaehyun had just about opened his door in a way that his body was sticking halfway out of it, but he was now frozen in that position, neither in nor out, just stuck there looking like he was contemplating his next move. he adorned a loose, white shirt that clung to his defined shoulders and chest, paired with a pair of red plaid pants with a patch of some different material stitched just above where his knee was. you'd recognise those pants just about anywhere, having worn them a number of times and being the cause of that strange patch with mismatched material (you'd tried to balance a pot of steaming hot ramen on your knee in order to move something, resulting in it causing a burn in the pant).

his attire tells you that he was either just about to eat breakfast, in the process of eating breakfast, or about to finish breakfast; jaehyun was not an early riser and he liked to take his time getting ready for the day.

apart from his slightly changed hair, jaehyun looks the same as he did before, if not better. his once shorter, straight, brown hair, was now a darker kind of black and longer in a silky, mullet-y, layered sort of way, the mullet part stopping just above where his shirt met his neck and the front bits falling on to his face in thin, soft wisps.

everything about the man was captivating and entrancing, but if you had to pick a specific feature that really takes the cake, it would have to be his eyes. his eyes, deep-set and fierce, always gave the impression that he was cold or unapproachable, whereas in reality, he was the opposite. as striking as they may be, they always carried a certain warmth to them.

while they still held the same intensity to them, the warmth was missing as he looked straight at you now. after the brief moment of confusion when he first opened the door dissipated, the familiarity had sunk in, and his expression now was more or less unreadable, but you still tried to make out what he was thinking and feeling- was it shock? anger? maybe even disgust?

"okay, are you going to just stand there or are you going to say something?"

you think it was largely a combination of the last two. in all your fidgeting and gawking, you'd forgotten to actually speak to the man who's door you'd just knocked on, leaving him standing there wordless and confused, an eyebrow raised as he waited for you to open your mouth.

you try to do so, so many words wanting to tumble out your mouth but an invisible gate seems to block it, so now you're just stood still with your mouth opening and closing soundlessly, looking like an idiot.

c'mon y/n, fucking say something, anything-

"how have you been?", is what you decide to go with to break the silence in the end, an awkward smile plastered on to your face. you realise before the sentence is even fully out of your mouth that that would be a really weird thing to start off with, seeing as you and jaehyun have had absolutely zero contact for six months, and are obviously not on the most wonderful terms.

jaehyun's eyebrows furrow, a look of clear disbelief on his face as he clutches his door handle a little tighter. he looks away with a sarcastic smile, shaking his head before turning back to look you dead in the eye. oh, he's going to slam the door on you, you just know it-

"really? 'how have you been'?", he questions incredulously, licking his bottom lip while an exasperated smile plays at them. funnily enough, his response is somewhat relieving to your pitiful self, because you weren't even expecting to hear a reply to what you said, you figured he'd just walk away. you would've. "we haven't seen each for six months since we broke up and 'how have you been' is the best you've got?"

you wince apologetically and bite your lip, playing with your fingers nervously as he quite literally stares you down, irritation written all over his face.

he waits a couple more beats for you to break the tense silence and speak but you are inwardly (and outwardly) struggling to word your thoughts, so he simply scoffs and backs away to return inside.

"okay wait, i didn't tell my family that we broke up and they keep pressuring me to bring you home for the holidays, so i would really like if you'd pretend you don't hate me and come with me."

you don't even want to open your eyes to witness his reaction to your blurted little confession, so you merely stand, frozen in place with your eyes squeezed shut tightly. a couple seconds pass yet you don't hear a door slam, a good sign, so you take that as an affirmative to open your eyes.

he doesn't say anything, or do anything either really, he just leans against his doorframe with another indecipherable expression. this irks you even though you know you have no right to feel irked, but the fact that you once had the ability to know what he was thinking and now don't bothers you to the core. plus, it leaves you feeling unsure as to whether to continue. he might just start laughing at you manically or angrily tell you to get off his property like some bitter, 60-year-old man, and either of these scenarios would be completely fair of him to do.

the heavy realisation that your request sounded absolutely delusional and conceited dawns upon you, and something about his irksome expression makes you feel like you should keep talking. "you have literally every right to just tell me to fuck off, and i don't even expect an answer, i don't really know why i even came here, oh my god- this is so fucking stupid, i'm so fucking stupid and honestly i don't know why you're still standing here listening to me ramble-"

"i need to get ready then. give me ten minutes."

✧ ──────── ✧ ──────── ✧

the front door you're stood at now holds a very different ambience to the previous one. while jaehyun's was quiet and peaceful, the front door to your parents house reveals that the inside is just bustling with activity. the chorus of kate bush's 'running up that hill' plays faintly from behind the door, so you figured that your dad must have brought out his old record player from the dusty attic.

jaehyun stands beside you, hands shoved into the pockets of his light grey hoodie that you feel he must be boiling in, because you're wearing a black tank top with some loose cargoes that you think you might have drenched with sweat.

the sweat would be from the burning heat, but also from the agitation you're really starting to feel. there are so many different ways this dinner could go. what if jaehyun suddenly tells them the truth? then everyone in the room would hate you, and rightly so. you don't want to have to explain to your parents why you broke up with him; it's a stupid fucking reason, if you can even call it that, and it made you completely miserable. how were you supposed explain to your little sister that you and jaehyun aren't together anymore? you suppose relationships are a totally foreign concept to her young mind, but you were sure that she knew you and jaehyun loved each other very much. and you knew she loved jaehyun very much.

he does not look at you, instead choosing to really focus on the christmas themed welcome mat that your parents put out during the winter of '09 and never bothered to change. how he even agreed to come here with you, you don't know, but to say you're grateful would be an understatement.

"you still have time to back out, you know.", you mumble softly, trying to give him one more chance to escape, but he doesn't even spare you a glance, shaking his head and squinting at the door.

"let's just get this over with."

with a small sigh, your raise your hand to press your parents doorbell, the embarrassingly loud 'ding dong' ringing out from behind the door. "oh, that must be her!", you hear the muffled voice of your father speak from the inside, making a slight smile form on your lips.

within a couple seconds, you hear the sound of the muted metal bolt as your dad struggles to open the door to let you in. a grunt of "this damn door..." makes both you and jaehyun release short giggles, and you peek over at jaehyun to see his lips curl upwards into a smile, a small one but it's still breathtakingly pretty . he clears his throat and it's gone in a flash, but the image doesn't leave your mind, and you're still seeing it when your dad finally manages to open the door. "i really need to start using the new lock", he mutters, shifting his eyes to you with a big grin, leaving against the doorframe with his arms folded. "hello, sweetheart."

you chuckle and throw your arms around him, squeezing him a little as he laughs and pats your back in return. releasing you, he turns to jaehyun with a smile, who promptly sticks his hand out politely. "hello, mr. l/n, long time no see."

your dad ignores his hand, throwing his head back with a gruff laugh. "what's with all the formalities, come here, son.", and with that he gives jaehyun a hug as well, a slightly shorter one albeit, but a hug nonetheless. the word 'son' repeats in your mind like an echo, sounding more and more distorted the longer you focus on it. you can't even begin to think of what was going through jaehyun's mind. this was not your brightest idea.

you notice your mom waiting by the door with her hands behind her back, eyes bright and shiny. "hi, mom.", you beam, and she laughs cheerily, opening her arms for you to run into, which you do. she presses numerous kisses to the crown of your head, making you groan lightheartedly and try to escape her hold, but it only tightens. "oh, how i've missed you."

"i missed you too, mom.", you say but she's already let you go and is making a bee line for jaehyun with her arms open, who falls into the hug so readily and comfortably. "i may have missed you, y/n, but i missed jaehyun ten times more.", she jokes, pinching jaehyun's cheeks affectionately.

jaehyun is turning bright red, but he has a toothy grin on his face, a real one, you can tell. his eyes travel the front room where all of you are stood with a nostalgic smile, having not seen it or your parents in over six months. you watch as they look from the various photo frames hung up on the wall alongside the staircase, to the curtains that they recently changed, finally landing on the record player thay was sitting on the table. "wow, mr. l/n, where did you get this?", jaehyun asks, and you wonder whether he's trying to make conversation or if he's genuinely curious. you think it may be the second one.

while him and your dad engage in small talk about his record player, you turn to your mom to ask of the whereabouts of your little sister, and as if on cue, you hear an excited squeal from the top of the stairs. all four heads turn to see your sister bounding down the stairs hurriedly, paying no mind to your mom's strained shout of "careful!".

"y/n!", she piped, finally reaching the bottom of the stairs and running straight to you, wrapping her arms around your legs. she barely reaches your hip so her hug is really just her face pressed into your thigh with her arms squeezing your legs together, while you pat the top of her head.

somehow managing to pry her off of your legs, you kneel and give her a proper hug in return, now happy that you made the decision to come home for a bit of your holiday. she lets go and reaches into her pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper and jutting her hand out to you, urging you to take it.

you smile and furrow your eyebrows with confusion but you take the paper anyway, opening it as carefully as you could so as to not tear it anywhere. smoothing it out flat on your knee, you're greeted with a drawing; two people stand holding hands under a deep blue sky, a large yellow sun shining in one corner along with some "birds" that are really just little 'v's scribbled in black. they're stood on a beach, at least you think they are because there are two shades of blue on the paper, one of them probably being the blue hue of the ocean.

you assume the two people are you and your sister, since one of them has shorter, shoulder length hair and is miniscule compared to the other person, who's hair length and height are similar to yours.

you hold the picture to your chest and pull your sister in for another heartfelt hug, kissing her temple. "is this us?", you ask her, pointing at the two people in the drawing. she gives you a proud nod in return, taking the picture from your hands and holding it in front of her face. "yup! the big girl is you and the small girl is me! we're gonna go swimming.", she informs you, flashing you the toothiest of smiles. "thank you, it's perfect.", you tell her, ruffling her hair a little as she hands you the drawing back.

she clearly doesn't appreciate that, because she whines and swats your hands away, but soon her eyes focus on something behind you and they enlarge, the second excited squeal of the day emerging from her lips. "jae!", she just about screams, completely abandoning you in favour of running off to jaehyun, who has a wide smile on his face and looks equally as happy as her. he scoops her up in his arms and lifts her in front of his face, doing a little spin as peals of laughter escape her.

he finally puts her down but she holds on to his hand, looking at the male with absolute adoration. "hi, cutie.", he boops her nose affectionately to which she giggles, turning to look at you. "you didn't tell me jaehyun was coming!"

"i wasn't sure if he could make it", you reply to her honestly, looking at jaehyun as you speak because only the two of you know what you really mean by that. he holds your eye contact for perhaps a millisecond longer than he did before, but again, it was gone in a flash. he clears his throat a little and straightens up, rocking back on his heels.

sensing a shift in the air but mistaking it for some form of awkwardness, your mother shoos the rest of your family away in the direction of the kitchen. "they probably want to freshen up together, let's let them do that."

once they're gone, it feels like you can finally release your breath, truly seeing this situation going wrong in so many ways. they don't suspect anything yet, but how much longer until they eventually connect the dots? or what if they don't even need to do that, because jaehyun only agreed so he could embarrass you by telling them the whole story? you don't acknowledge the tense silence until jaehyun speaks up. "can i use the guest bathroom? still the second door on the right, yeah?"

you don't respond immediately because you're processing the fact that he still remembers these minute details. you also realise he's only asking because he doesn't want to share your bathroom with you, and that clears your thoughts up a little. you nod in affirmation and he begins climbing up the stairs, and you wait until you hear he's reached the upstairs landing before you move.

it's so tense. the last time you were in this house with jaehyun, you had taken a short road trip to get there. you say road trip, but it was just a couple hours long, but the playlist you and jaehyun had curated said otherwise. you arrived at the house and everyone was all smiles, your parents just happy to have you home and happy to see him as well. you think that part's just as hard as thinking about the two of you together. the fact that your slightly judgemental parents adored him, your little sister looked at him with stars in her eyes– you had lucked out in every department, and you were always aware of it, the joint guilt you felt from breaking it off and lying to your parents really getting to you now.

you swore that after this was over, you would apologise to jaehyun and finally break the truth to your parents.

finishing off in the bathroom, you step out into the hall, only to bump straight into jaehyun. backing up awkwardly, you both try to get past each but keep going in the same direction, resulting in a bunch of 'sorry–'s and 'wait– just–'s being blurted out by the two of you. finally getting past you, he doesn't look back at you again, just walking down the stairs mumbling something about "they're waiting...".

wincing, you make your way down the stairs as well, arriving at the living room to see your mom standing beside your dad with an excited expression on her face. you approach with caution, noting that your dad has his hands behind his back. "so...", your mother starts, raising her shoulders a little out of anticipation. "since we haven't seen the two of you in a while...we got you some presents! nothing too grand but..."

"mom, it's not even christmas", you whine, ready to argue with them because you feel bad that whatever they got was still overpriced, but your mother shakes her head, urging your dad to reveal the presents. "just take a look first..."

in one hand he holds a small, white box, no bigger than his palm, and your mom picks it up, holding it out to you. the print on the box is small and typewriter-like, the material it's made out of just screaming fancy. you narrow your eyes at your parents but take the box in your hand anyway, pushing it open. inside, it reveals maybe the prettiest necklace you've seen; dainty and silver, the chain is simple but it's the pendant that's the real charm– it's an uncut stone of some kind, a pale, translucent white crystal that's pretty much shapeless but it's wrapped in this thin silver wire that forms little loops and hearts over the stone and it makes it so alluring.

"it's a seaglass necklace", your mom speaks, taking the necklace out of its box for you and inclining her head for you to turn around. you're now facing jaehyun, who looks curiously at the new piece of jewellery with the faintest of smiles on his face. pushing your hair to the side, your mother places the necklace around your neck and clasps it (though it takes her a while, squinting and looking at the necklace hook from every angle because she forgot to wear her reading glasses). she leads you to the mirror by the entrance of the hall so you could get a better look at the necklace hanging on top of your collarbones, reaching up to touch it. "you remember? from that lady who owned the fancy place by the beach last summer?"

you do remember. that was the first trip jaehyun had joined you and your family for, under the suggestion of your little sister. when you brought up the fact that jaehyun was going back home to see his parents a little later than he had anticipated, your sister immediately asked if he would want to come with all of you, who were heading to the beach in a day or two for a little family getaway. and much to your surprise, your parents were very warm to the idea of jaehyun accompanying the lot of you. he must have severely impressed them the first time he met them, bringing a bouquet of flowers for your mother and a hearty bottle of whiskey for your dad– it's like he had won their hearts before he had even stepped inside the house.

of course, he had met them a couple more times again after that, but your parents had never raised any issues about your then boyfriend. your dad had claimed that he wanted jaehyun to come along so he could "keep an eye on him" and "see how he treats you in front of us", but you knew all too well he just wanted someone to talk to about his interest in sound systems. the trip had gone so smoothly, so perfectly and you think that it had planted the seeds of doubt in your mind about your relationship.

the position of the window and sun allowed for the light to bleed on to half of your face, the necklace glinting under the rays as you stood in front of the mirror and surveyed it. the last couple drops of the golden hour sun slipped through the windowpane and painted your skin like it was a canvass and the necklace was the cherry on top. you were radiant, and the look in jaehyun's eyes told you that he knew it too. when your eyes meet in the mirror, it's like he tears his eyes away from you, forcing himself to look at his shoes.

snapping out of your soon-to-be miserable thoughts, you fix a smile on to your face so as to not seem ungrateful, turning to hug your mother. "i love it", and you really do, knowing that you wouldn't be wearing a single other piece of jewellery for the next couple months.

jaehyun stands in the doorway soundlessly, just taking in the scene. he had always told you that he wished his family was as close and tight-knit as yours, but due to his dad always being away on some business trip or another and his mother having her own job to attend to, it resulted in a lot of time spent by himself.

you think that might be way he slotted right in with the rest of you, from the very first meet, because his desire to belong worked very well with your family's lively, chaotic home, which welcomed him right away. this was the main reason why couldn’t bring yourself to tell your family that you had broken up him mercilessly. they wouldn’t blame you of course, but you know everyone would be immensely disappointed when they realised that he hadn’t even done anything wrong in the first place; he was so good to you, and they just wanted to see you happy.

while your mom cooed at how pretty the necklace looked on you, your dad faces jaehyun with a wide grin on his face. "you didn't think we'd forget about you, did you?"

he probably wasn't expecting anything for himself, because you weren't either, so you and jaehyun simultaneously furrow your eyebrows. "oh, mr. l/n, you didn't have to–", he starts but your father is quick to cut him off, waving his hands. "what nonsense. of course we had to get you something, it's no big deal", he tries to appear nonchalant but the smile that creeps on to his face is a telltale sign that it is, in fact, a big deal. "besides, if you're family to y/n, you're family to us."

it's as if someone just stuck a large knife into you, the pang you just felt in your stomach. you can't even begin to think about what must be going through jaehyun's head, because even he can't hide the way his eyes soften at your dad's words. watching your sister spring up from the couch, she runs behind your father and plucks whatever he was holding out of his hands, now revealed to be a medium-sized bag. "i wanna give it to jaehyun!", with that, she's running over to him with the toothiest smile plastered on her cheeks, holding the bag out to jaehyun with stretched arms.

he ruffles her hair just like you did, but she makes absolutely zero complaints as he does it– if anything she's revelling in it. this makes you want to scoff, but you smile instead without thinking about it, taking a couple steps away from the mirror and towards them. "are you gonna open it or should i take it back to the store?", your dad jokes and jaehyun chuckles quietly while you don't even bother forcing a laugh, and he takes the bag from your sister's hands, mumbling a soft 'thank you'.

from where you're standing, you can't see what's inside the bag, but you can see jaehyun's eyes widen when he looks inside and back up at everyone. "me and mrs. l/n, i can't take this."

"of course you can", your mother tuts in response, dismissing him with her hand. "if i recall correctly, you had said something about your airpods not working properly?"

realisation dawns on your face when jaehyun pulls the shiny headphones from the bag, turning them over in his hand. "i think i did mention it, yeah...", he nods, eyes scanning over the clear box he holds. you remember that only one of his airpods would function properly, the other deciding whenever it wanted to do its job. you didn't realise your parents remembered, as well. "but these are so expensive, i can't–"

"do you like them or not?", your dad asks, shrugging his shoulders. jaehyun's quick to nod, "yes, i love them but–"

"then end of story." your father's not hearing anyone out, even going so far as to cover his ears jokingly when jaehyun opens his mouth again. after your sister tugs on his pant leg and urges him to try them out, jaehyun slips them over his ears, whipping his phone to connect them to it. he thought it was too expensive to try fixing his airpods so he resorted to listening with just the one ear in, or using your headphones till you broke up.

by the look on his face, they work just fine, and he couldn't be happier. a wide smile is pressed on his face, a real one that doesn't even drop when he makes eye contact with you. you smile back at him slowly, but he doesn't look away immediately, slowly turning to look at your parents. "i don't know what to say. thank you."

you'd had a couple boyfriends before, not none as close to your family as jaehyun had been. none of your previous relationships had lasted very long and you could never pinpoint the exact reason why, you just knew at some point that you had to break it off. your mother always thought that this was a result of your first ever relationship, the first and last man that ever dumped you. it crushed you at the time, though you were able to power through, but since then, relationships were never your strong suit. change seemed promising when you met jaehyun through a mutual friend, however. he was kind, he was smart and he was genuine, three traits that you didn't typically see in guys you dated, but you didn't see any reason to dwell on your biggest fumble yet.

the rest of time until dinner continues in a steadfast manner with all of you sitting in the living room. the scene looked like something out of a corny movie montage, but the beautiful part of it was that it was reality, all the laughs, the eye-smiles, the stupid jokes and conversations, all of it. your parents had recently returned from a holiday together that they took to celebrate their wedding anniversary, which meant that you two deserved to look through all eight hundred and sixty two of the photos they took. super proud of the new projector he had ordered off amazon, your dad had connected his phone to it and was going through his gallery slideshow-style, with your mom making offhand comments about every other photo.

"that's from when we went on a date to this fancy restaurant, that's from the shoe store your dad wanted to go to...oh! that's when your dad just learnt how to take 0.5x pictures on his new phone!"

your mom speaks animatedly while each photo is being shown, pointing out various different things without any prompting. there were badly taken selfies of your parents that made both you and jaehyun laugh, pictures of the different kinds of food they ate, the said 0.5's of your mother taken from the top of her forehead– your dad was slapping his knee even though your mom wasn't too impressed.

after what seemed like years, they ran out of vacation pictures and moved on to pictures and videos taken during your little sister's talent show. this was especially endearing, because your normally high-energy sister was suddenly all shy and avoidant of eye contact in the presence of jaehyun, particularly displeased with a video of her singing on stage.

jaehyun wipes the pout right off her face however, poking her cheek with a smile. "you sound amazing, s/n", he pipes genuinely, and she's back to smiling again, even offering to sing the song for everyone towards the end. no one has the heart to turn down so innocent a request, so for the next couple minutes you are subjected to a very slightly off-key rendition of some song from the movie 'frozen'. everyone cheers when she is done, jaehyun even throwing in a little "whoo!" for good measure, and your sister performs a small curtsey before seating herself between you and jaehyun's legs.

you're situated on the same couch, but only so that things don't look weird. you invited him here to pose as your boyfriend, and he agreed, so you have to play the part too. that part wasn't as hard as you expected, the acting like a couple, no, it was the avoiding questions that was really getting to you. at some point in the conversation, your dad had congenially asked jaehyun when the next time he'd be coming home was. normally, he would congenially reply with something like "as soon as possible", but this time, he just froze. he appeared to attempt a reply, but was cut short at "uh–", the rest of the sentence never following through.

hoping to repair the awkward moment, you start to construct a fib. "jaehyun's been uh– you know, working at one of those um, nursing homes–", this is too out-of-the-box a reply even for jaehyun who turns to you, trying and failing to the hide incredulous look on his face.

"a nursing home? oh, i didn't know you were training to be a nurse!", your mother is surprised but definitely not disappointed, placing her hand on her chest with a sympathetic look on her face as she looks at jaehyun. he looks as if he's trying to speak to you using only his eyes, widening and squinting them at a rapid pace, tilting his head towards you so your parents don't see his expression. there are clear signs of confusion and you're aware he's questioning your decisions, but that's as far as you get with his eye signals and you let him know by shrugging and wincing, so he closes them while sighing inwardly and turns to face your parents, a fake smile stuck on his lips.

"yes! haha, funny story, this one...", he grits his teeth but furthers your stupid concoction of a story, snapping his fingers while trying to think. "i'm not really training to be a nurse, i just volunteer there sometimes. love being around old people, you know, makes me feel full of life–"

you cut him off before he can make this even worse for the both of you, taking in your mother's furrowed eyebrows and your dad's slightly opened mouth. "yes, well, it's hard for him to catch a break, you know, with all the...", you slap your hand over his knee and give it a little squeeze, turning to him with a grin while he smiles tightly back at you, eyes focusing on the hand on his thigh without changing his expression. "...hard work he does."

jaehyun's eyes don't leave your hand, seeing as this is the first act of skinship in six months, albeit casual. your hand feels so hot that you think you might be burning a hole through the material of jaehyun's jeans, finally ripping your hand off of him.

"of course...", your father trails off in confusion, and no one can seem to make head or tails of the situation. in a moment, your mother pauses before clapping her hands, seemingly already forgotten about the strange situation as she chimes "dinner in five!~". your sister scampers off with claims of helping your mother out in the kitchen (and probably to try and secure a spot close to you and jaehyun), and jaehyun stands up and heads to the cupboard containing all your placemats without out even being asked. you offer to help but he shakes his head, and you opt to go sit back down on one of the arm chairs facing the kitchen area, just observing.

this was one of jaehyun's qualities that made you fall in love with him, but also pissed you off to no end. first of all, didn't he ever get tired of just being so good all the time? second of all, why couldn't his own parents see what everyone else saw in him? and thirdly, why did you choose to ruin your life six months ago? as for the last one, you knew why, but the extent of your stupidity was real apparent to you now.

you look away when he meets your eyes and catches you, your heart beating fast when you see out of the corner of your eye that his gaze lingers for a moment or two. underneath all that hatred, was there still a small part of him that cared about you? after you broke up with him, over call that too, he attempted to call you back two or three times, but you couldn't bring yourself to pick up. out of fear or maybe even shame, you never answered his calls and since then, you'd had no contact.

it was impossible. with a break-up like that and six month's worth of time to sit and think about it, you imagine that one could hold a surprising amount of hatred for someone–especially after a relationship as real as yours. if you switched the roles, you think you wouldn't feel much different.

at your mom's signal, you heave yourself off the couch and to the dining table, seating yourself next to jaehyun (everyone expected you to sit with him, they left the chair empty on purpose). your sister has already claimed the spot opposite jaehyun and was patiently awaiting the vegetables that she knew your mother was going to pile on her plate, a little pout forming on her lips at the sight of broccoli. "you can't make that face every time, like i'm feeding you dog food", your mother scolds her with a smile, giving her a generous helping of veggies. the pout deepens and she folds her arms with a cross look on her face. "you guys don't have to eat the broccoli. why do i?"

she's got a point, you think, but before you can tell her to just eat them, jaehyun speaks. "that's exactly what my little cousin sungchan said...", jaehyun tells her, looking around the table with a dramatic sigh. "and we all know what happened to him..."

little cousin sungchan? as far as you know, there is no little cousin sungchan, and you know a lot about jaehyun's family, so you put your fork down in favour of listening to his story at the same time your sister curiously asks, "what happened?".

"well, like you, sungchan didn't like eating his veggies", starting off the story with a shrug under your mother's listening ears, he talks in a low voice. "he'd always argue with my aunt till one day, he refused to eat them.

your sister is knocking food around her plate while she listened to jaehyun, and she's not impressed with the story so far. "see! why can't i do that?", she asks indignantly, and your mother shoots jaehyun a look to which he winced and continues. "nothing happened for a while, so sungchan thought he had proved his point. but he hadn't heard of the veggie monster."

the story is heading in such a stupid direction that you almost laugh out loud, but you catch yourself when you notice your sister's expression, guarded and wary. "...the veggie monster? ...that's not real...", she speaks like she's not fully sure of her words herself, pausing her attack on her food.

"sungchan thought that too", jaehyun agrees, lowering his voice like one would when telling a scary story, looking around him like it could be listening before continuing, for the story's sake. "but he didn't know that without veggies, a child's body is weak. their bones don't grow strong, they stay small and their minds aren't sharp at all. that's how the veggie monster chooses his targets."

you hold back a snort at your sister's wide-eyed expression and how serious jaehyun looks, he's even got your dad attempting to look nonchalant as he followed the story. "the less veggies a kid eats, the weaker they get, and that's easy pickings for the veggie monster. he comes late at night, and there's no point in hiding because he knows. he can smell when a kid doesn't have enough vitamins and it makes him hungry."

with your sister, your parents and even you hanging on to every word, jaehyun lowers his voice to almost a whisper, and all of you lean in closer to listen. "legend has it that he looks so scary that you lose the ability to move or speak, so he just takes you. sungchan was never seen again. the police said he was missing but i knew what happened to him."

you have to admit, jaehyun can tell a story. the atmosphere felt more eerie as he concluded the story cryptically, but your sister looks positively gutted. "did he take him?", she questions, face white and voice small. he nods slowly, like he didn't want to be talking about this, and all you can think about is how this man deserved an award after the show he put on. "i had my suspicions. no one believed me, but i'm ninety-nine percent sure that at dinner, i saw a pair of dark, red eyes staring straight into the kitchen from the window."

as if nature was a paid fucking actor, a slight crash sounds from outside the window on cue, like if a cat knocked over a plastic bin, but you're pretty sure your sister shit her pants. you've never seen her shovel vegetables into her mouth at that kind of record speed before, even your parents are looking at her astounded. with her food in her mouth, she pleads with glazed eyes, "please– i'm sorry, i'll have my veggies, don't let him take me!"

it takes all of you a little while to convince your sister that she'd be completely fine if she ate all the veggies given to her and that the veggie monster wouldn't even think of her, but it's safe to say that she'd never leave a bit of stray carrot on her plate ever again. your mom comically mouths 'thank you' to jaehyun which makes you laugh, and you turn to smile at him, and he gives you a nod in return. small steps, you think, because a nod is a whole lot better than a glare.

the rest of the dinner continues as if nothing changed. sure, you and jaehyun knew things were different, but it didn't fully feel like it at the moment. your mom had prepared a lot of nice food for the occasion, and your dad even helped, particularly proud of the way his stir fry turned out. jaehyun made sure to compliment both your parents on their cooking, and they all but melted– he still knew exactly how to talk to them. conversation was easy; you talked about work, you talked about how university was going, you talked about the school play your sister was going to take part in, about jaehyun's parents, nothing was forced.

you'd fall into comfortable silences at times in favour of sitting back and observing, listening, just being a part of the moment. for someone who was so reluctant to be here, jaehyun seems comfortable, the familiarity of the situation helping ease the tension between the two of you. expecting some bumps along the way, you were rather pleased with how things were turning out, but you were also anticipating the end of the lovely evening– where you and jaehyun would eventually go your separate ways. you don't want to think about it just yet, not when everything was going so smoothly, and your opportunity to snap out of your thoughts is presented to you, just not in the way you would have liked.

your mother's question seems to have thrown jaehyun for a loop as well, because his eyebrows are furrowed and he looks blatantly confused. at some point during a lull in the conversation, your mother had politely asked jaehyun how his christmas in japan had gone; the only problem with this question was that he never had a christmas in japan, not to his knowledge anyway. this, was yet another lie you had told your parents, when they had asked why jaehyun hadn't accompanied you home to celebrate christmas, like he had originally planned to. unbeknownst to them, you had already broken up with him prior to the christmas holidays, so jaehyun wasn't exactly going to come along anyway. so, you told them that he had to spend christmas with an aunt in japan, for familial reasons.

you didn't exactly have time to prep jaehyun and give him a run down of every single lie he had to play along with, so he turns to you with a look of uncertainty and desperation in his eyes. "my, uh- christmas? in japan?", he puts emphasis on the two keywords, not blinking when he speaks directly to you in hopes that you would take the hint and help him out.

"yeah, your christmas. in japan. with your aunt", you reply to him with the same tone and expression as he does, trying your best to sound subtle so your parents don't catch on.

"yes, with your aunt! we were so sad to hear that you couldn't make it for christmas", your mother is unknowingly helping jaehyun catch up with the fake story, and he releases a short "ahh" during his moment of 'recollection'. "right, my real aunt who definitely lives in japan."

he grits his teeth when he talks, making you grimace and the fact that your parents look completely puzzled doesn't help. you need to save your dignity anyway, so you try to cut jaehyun off before he can make things worse. "haha, jaehyun of course she's your real aunt, silly", you awkwardly chuckle, feigning nonchalance when you bump his shoulder with your fist, wishing you could telepathically communicate with him right now, but you'd probably only be saying "please, please, please" on repeat.

he sighs but speaks up again, much to your relief. "it was slightly boring, my aunt doesn't do much", he laughs softly, fully back in character. "but you know, it's still nice to spend time with your family."

if your parents are suspicious, they don't say anything, seemingly satisfied with jaehyun's answer. dinner continues with few hitches until jaehyun insists that he washes the dishes. "it's the least i can do, after you both made such delicious food."

your mother at least tries to argue with him for a bit, but your dad is quite happy to not have to wash dishes, patting jaehyun on the back before standing up. what surprises you however, is jaehyun turning to you with the sweetest, most fake smile you've seen in a minute plastered on his face. "you mind helping, y/n?"

smiling tightly, you nod and begin clearing the table. this is done in silence, neither of you even looking at each other as you pick up dishes and carry them to the kitchen. your sister has run off to the living room to watch some t.v with your dad, and it feels like you're finally allowed to breathe when your mother exits the room as you’re picking up the last dirty dish. walking into the kitchen, jaehyun's back is facing you while he washes dishes, the environment and the little tune he's humming making everything seem so domestic in your eyes. this is how dinner used to always go when he came over, with you and him washing the dishes together in the end, taking breaks to splash each other with the soapy water or making out secretly by the counter.

but the air is foreign now, none of the former warmth or softness remaining. he turns to you with a frown when you place the final dish on the side of the sink, and he really doesn't look too happy. "visiting an aunt in japan? really?", he scoffs, looking incredulous while you look sheepish, avoiding his eye contact entirely.

you were expecting something like this but you hated being put on the spot. "i don't know, okay, what else was i supposed to say?", the exasperation in your voice is evident but it only fuels jaehyun, and rightfully so.

"i got an idea, how about 'oh, he can't come because i dumped his ass over call for no reason, sorry'?", he digs snidely, voice laden with scorn. there it is. "or is that too close to the truth for you?"

he doesn’t even let you open your mouth, chucking the cloth he was using to dry the dishes on the counter somewhere, folding his arms while he looks at you in a hostile way. “you wanna know how i really spent my christmas, y/n?”, he sneers sardonically, a sarcastic smile etched on to his lips. “alone in my house. miserable. i wish i had an aunt in fucking japan that i could’ve spent it with.”

you hate to admit it, but his words sting and you are well aware that you deserve it. just asking him to join you for this dinner was a huge reach, a request you really didn't expect him to accept. you don't fully understand why he did, though. he clearly despised you, so many be it was out of love for your family? you know jaehyun cared for them, but doing all this was uncharacteristic even for him. when you don't say anything but wear an agonised expression on your face, jaehyun further questions you.

"do you not have anything to say for yourself?", he tries again, his voice a little softer and more hopeful than before but you look like you're fighting some internal battle that doesn't involve him. he exhales deeply, clearly disappointed in your lack of an explanation and just walks past you and out of the kitchen.

you remain in the kitchen for a couple beats more, trying your level best to collect yourself. you can feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes and your breathing is quicker, but this is the absolute worst time to have a little panic attack in the kitchen. how you wished the two of you could just forget about everything for a minute so you could wrap your arms around his figure and fall into his embrace, feeling like that would solve all your problems. it's selfish and wrong, but you know that you're not getting over jaehyun anytime soon.

you'd come to that conclusion a couple months back. the first month after you broke things off with him was possibly the worst time of your life, struggling to eat, sleep or even get out of bed. your friends urged you to reach out to him like they knew you wanted to, but you remained stubborn, convinced at the time that you had made the right decision that would hurt the least for the both of you. you were wrong, you could see that now, but you knew it was much too late. you'd already gone through all the stages of grief, but seeing jaehyun again in this environment had really gone and thrown a spanner in the works for you, all because of your terrible decision-making skills.

any hopes you had of the two of you at least being on semi-friendly terms had just flown out the window as well, and you suddenly think that this might've been the reason why jaehyun even agreed to come. an explanation. a well-deserved one at that. you don't know why you find it so hard to give him one, but you suspect it's because you're not ready to face all that yourself.

upon hearing your mother faintly call out your name, you realise how long you've been standing in the kitchen, taking a couple more deep breaths before you join the rest of them. it's clear that everyone's winding down, your sister curled up on your dad's lap, trying to blink away her sleepiness, while everyone else mutedly watched the television. "didn't mean to keep you all up past your bedtime", you try to joke lightheartedly because your parents look like they're about to hit the hay themselves, but it's really so that no one suspects you were having a little breakdown in the kitchen; especially jaehyun.

"you're not wrong", your dad agrees gruffly, stretching a little before tapping on your sister's cheek to wake her, much to her displeasure. "it's technically your mama's turn to put you to bed, isn't it?", he attempts, but is quickly shot down by your mother, pinching his arm after claiming it was certainly not her turn. after their grand performance, both of them comically turn to look at you with a suspiciously bright look in their eyes. you don't even have time to argue, because the second the hint of a sigh leaves your mouth, they're saying "thank you" and "how nice of you to offer", urging your sister to wake up to let her know that you'll be tucking her in tonight.

she perks up a little at this, nodding with a little glint in her eyes. hopping off your dad's lap, she sleepily totters over to you. "can jae come too?", her voice is hopeful and small, and she yawns in the middle of her sentence but she just has this certain charm that makes everyone unable to say 'no' to her. this includes jaehyun, because one look from her with her arms raised and he's picking her up, pretending to complain about it. you can't help but smile at the whole interaction.

"oh quick! before i forget...", your mom gasps in remembrance, picking her phone up from the coffee table with a tired smile. "don't know when i'll get to see the two of you again so, pictures!"

this may be the only part you were slightly prepared for. your mother had a special affinity for taking photos; not that she was any good at it, she just enjoyed capturing these little moments and treating her gallery like a scrapbook. she had more or less documented the entirety of you and jaehyun's relationship, from the first few months where all the photos were cheesy smiles and awkward poses, to when you had grown more comfortable around each other. in fact, a photo she had taken of jaehyun was your wallpaper for quite some time (it took a lot of effort and explaining to help your mom airdrop you the picture)– it was a shot of jaehyun and your sister grinning from ear to ear, both adorning aprons that were covered in flour after a failed attempt at baking cookies.

the point being, you're pretty sure jaehyun was also expecting the pictures, so it didn't really surprise you when he plastered a smile on his face and came to stand beside you. his hand finds the small of your back soon enough and it makes your body stiffen while simultaneously sending a jolt through it, and jaehyun feels it. mistaking the action for uneasiness, he immediately lifts his warm hand off you so that it's now hovering awkwardly over your body, though no one can see that from the front. while you are disappointed, you lean into him anyway, clasping your hands together behind your back as you both give the camera wide smiles. you're so close you can smell his cologne and it's making you dizzy, not because the scent is overpowering but because it's just so familiar and you can't get enough of it.

the moment is gone in a flash because your mother takes three to four photos while cooing at the two of you before she decides to call it a night, and then jaehyun is ripping himself from you. you don't think anyone else recognises it, the way he seems to want to be as far from you as possible because he's so good at masking these things, but you can feel it. you can feel this heat radiating off of his body whenever he's near you and it's not the warm, fuzzy kind of heat. the spot on your back where his hand rested still burns a little.

your parents are exhausted and look more than happy to be able to jump straight into bed, but not before thanking you and jaehyun. you hug and kiss them goodnight, promising that your next visit will be sooner than this one before they exchange pleasantries with jaehyun, making him promise the same. you know this has to be hard on him, making a mental note to apologise profusely before you part ways. with a reminder that the door now locks from the inside, they bid you goodnight and goodbye, trudging off to their room while your sister scampers up the stairs to hers, suddenly full of life.

you understand why your parents were more than happy to hand over bedtime duties to you and your "boyfriend", because putting your little sister to bed turned out to be a piece of work. she started off by blatantly refusing to brush her teeth, but jaehyun had that one sorted when he reminded her that the veggie monster had a lot of friends, so that was done. she changed into her pyjamas all on her own which was a relief, but you were at a loss over how to actually get her into bed.

you both humoured her for a bit, understanding that she was just happy to have her big sister and her big sister's nice boyfriend home again, so a little excitement was expected. jaehyun played along with her, which was a sight to see, following along with the characters she assigned him in her imaginary games. but when bouncing on her bed turned into running around the room like a crazed bunny, it was a little harder to convince her that she needed to sleep now. "look at me, i'm wide awake", she insists, widening her eyes with her fingers to show you both just how awake she was. jaehyun tried a couple times to catch her, but you're both taken by surprise at her remarkable speed and agility. in the end, you had to resort to just sitting down and hoping that she'll tire herself out, which eventually does happen.

she climbs into bed of her own accord, rubbing at her eyes while you pull the duvet over her body, up to her shoulders. "when are you coming next?", she mumbles curiously while you sit on the edge of her bed, jaehyun standing close by. "soon", you reply honestly, knowing that you'll always have a safe place to come to whenever you need. "maybe i'll even stay for a whole weekend next time."

she likes the sound of this, smiling tiredly with her hands peeking over the edge of her cover, holding it closer to her. "will you come too?", this question is directed towards jaehyun, who looks defeated when he opens his mouth to answer. it's not fair, expecting him to lie to your family like this, but you know you've gotta come clean soon. you'd made up your mind at this point and come up with a plan; you'd explain yourself to jaehyun and apologise after which you'll go your separate ways, then you'll tell your family the truth after tonight, or at least make up a more recent break up, and that's that.

when jaehyun looks to you for help, you play with your hands a little, not fully knowing what to say. "if the old ladies at the nursing home let him go, maybe...", is what you decide is the safest option to go with, and your sister seems satisfied enough, giggling drowsily. you know she's close to falling asleep, and you're about to inwardly celebrate a job well done when she pops her next, unexpected question. "will you both be together forever?"

oh. there's a hint of teasing behind her voice, but everything else about the question is innocent and genuine, blinking her eyes open so she can look at the both of you when you answer. though you're not touching him, you can feel jaehyun stiffen next to you, his voice sounding more than a little awkward when he lets out an involuntary "uhh".

"what do you mean, cutie?"

you don't know why he asks that, because it's a pretty straightforward question; will the two of you be together forever? you want to laugh at the irony because you know that if she had asked the same question last time jaehyun came home, you both would have exchanged knowing smiles, giggling shyly while you tried to answer. the answer would've been 'yes', and you know deep down that it still should be.

she clicks her tongue like it's the most obvious and easy question in the world, shrugging her shoulders when she speaks. "you know, that's what people do when they're in love,", she answers with no hesitation, and you want to roll your eyes because who kidnapped your little sister and replaced her with dhar mann? "just like mommy and daddy!"

"daddy and mommy are married, sweetie, it's a little different–"

"i know that", she cuts off your little improvised answer in a deadpan voice that almost makes you feel stupid, but all her questions have your heart thudding against your rib cage, and you're praying to god that jaehyun can't hear it too. "but still, they love each other, and that's why they're together forever. don't you love each other?"

you're pretty sure the world stopped spinning and your heart stopped beating simultaneously, most definitely not expecting these kinds of questions from your sister. how do you even prepare an answer for this kind of situation? you know for a fact that your cheeks are coated in a dark sheen of red, and out of the corner of your eye (because you refuse to look at him), you’re pretty sure you can see the distinct pink colour paint the tips of jaehyun's ears, like they always do when he's shy or embarrassed. you can't not give her an answer, because that looks weird and she's clearly waiting for one, but answering meant that you either tell her the truth, that no, you will not be together forever because your dumbass went and ruined everything for the both of you six months ago, or you can lie and say that she's right, which would be admitting a lot of things that you didn't want to admit–

"nothing's for sure, but you're right, if two people really do love each other...", jaehyun's deep voice brings all your spiralling thoughts to a halt, and you look at him for the first time in a bit, only to find that he's already looking at you, gaze raw and piercing. you hold your breath when he speaks, because you don't trust yourself at the moment. "...they'll end up together forever."

you hear your sister make some kind of a reply, but the heartbeat in your ears is so loud that you don't quite catch it, the eye contact you're holding with jaehyun so intense that it feels wrong to look away. what could he have possibly meant by that? or was it just some half-assed answer to get your sister to go to sleep? you realise that staring at him while trying to use your sixth sense to nonverbally convey these questions to him isn't going to work, but you can feel the lump forming in your throat, needing to get out of this situation quickly.

it takes everything in you to break the eye contact in favour of pressing a quick peck to your sister's temple, and she looks about ten seconds away from just crashing. "night y/n, night jae...", and with that she's out like a light, and you two wait wordlessly until her breathing evens out before silently exiting the room.

once her bedroom door is shut, you make a beeline for the front door, way too scared and vulnerable right now to look at jaehyun. he doesn't say anything, so neither do you, making sure the door is actually locked before taking your phone out of your pocket. the time on your phone screen reads '11:43', and you know it's too late to try and catch the metro or a bus, but you're too stubborn and embarrassed to ask jaehyun to drop you.

the air is cold outside, much colder than it was inside your warm house. at the current moment, there is no breeze either, the trees are still and there are only a few lights on around the street, and it just makes everything seem so still and loud. you look out at the road, eyes zeroing in on this one lamp post where you shared one of your first few kisses with the man standing beside you. it's crazy how time can change things, you think, because never would you have believed in the moment that jaehyun called you "the most beautiful girl in the world" before leaning in to sweetly connect your lips that he could ever be something so close to a stranger within months.

ultimately opting to look at him, you're once again unable to read the expression on his face as you try your best to speak your mind to him. "um, i'm gonna book a cab, so you're officially free to go. thanks again for tonight, you really didn't have to come with me, so i owe you one. or i don't have to owe you one, because we're not going to see each other again- anything's good with me, just uh...thanks."

he waits patiently for you to finish, and aside from the slightest hint of amusement in his eyes, you're at a loss over what he's really thinking, but his face is so stupidly handsome that you're feeling angry and a little awkward, choosing to look around, and at the floor, playing with your fingers as you spoke.

"you're so dramatic y/n, i can drop you home, it's no big deal", he's already walking towards the road and biting his lip, and you can't tell whether it's out of habit or if he's trying to hide a smile, yet something tells you that it might be the latter.

"so you just let me say all that even though you were gonna offer to drop me? dude..."

the initial ten minutes of the drive are uncommunicative, both of you choosing to look at the dark road instead of acknowledging the awkward silence that was swallowing the car up whole. you don’t talk about your argument in the kitchen, you don’t make small talk about dinner, you don’t talk. you'd normally play some music in the background and you know that your phone is definitely still connected to his car's bluetooth, but somehow it just doesn't feel right– punishing yourself by sitting in this impenetrable silence should do you better.

the roads are more or less empty, save for the lone car or bike that speeds past you. jaehyun knows the way to your house from your parent's because of the amount of times you've driven back and forth, so you don't feel the need to tell him to turn right or to keep going down a certain road, making for even more silence.

part of you is still a little thankful that it isn't the most short drive, even though you aren't even speaking to each other. all it takes is picturing your empty house, devoid of the homely domestic feeling it used to carry when jaehyun was a frequent visitor. what would you even do when you got home? wallow in self-pity over your life choices? play 'sweet' by cigarettes after sex because it reminds you of him, then put on his hoodie that doesn't even smell like him anymore, just so you can curl up in bed and have a good cry while you reminisce? you're starting to think that maybe attempting to talk to him isn't the worst idea, at least it'll give you something to cry about later.

you're going crazy wracking your brain, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't make the atmosphere even more uneasy, but all you got was "hey, thanks again for coming" and "hey, sorry for breaking up with you, what's good though?". you can't even help the wince creeping on your face, finally choosing to go with the former before you have a heart attack and die in jaehyun's front seat.

"thanks again for agreeing to come", you start, absolutely hating the break in your voice from not talking for some time. "you really didn't have to do that. and for dropping me."

he offers you a quick nod in your general direction and fixes his eyes on the road ahead like he was zipping through a crowded highway, though you're sure there isn't a car in sight. "like i said, it's cool", is all you get in return, and you have to remind yourself that he has every right to be short with you.

but still, you try again. "and you don't have to worry about my parents", chewing on your bottom lip, you actually look at him this time, hoping it'll prompt him to do the same, but it doesn't. "i'm gonna tell them the truth."

he releases a short breath from his nose like he finds your statement funny, but continues to not really say anything, just nodding to indicate that he heard you. you subconsciously clench and unclench your jaw at that, because god, he's so fucking annoying, but you swear you don't mean to release the slightly irritated sigh that you do. if you hadn't seen his knuckles turning white from how hard he's gripping the steering wheel, you might not have known that your little sigh pissed him off, because you can't tell it from his face, save from the barely-there eyebrow twitch.

you don't know what it is about car rides with only one other person that make you feel so vulnerable, but you think paired with this kind of silence, you could potentially confess to murder in this setting. it's infuriating, how unresponsive he is, and part of you thinks you're jealous of the control he's exerting, because you're dead sure that if you were in his position, you'd have a fair amount to say. it must be satisfying for him in a way, watching you squirm like this out of guilt and discomfort, but you know in your heart that jaehyun simply isn't like that.

"look, jaehyun", your mouth is working faster than your brain, the silence proving to be too much for you to handle. "i know i fucked things up a bit. with how i ended it and everything..."

perhaps you should've taken a little more time to properly articulate your thoughts, because even jaehyun can't control the astounded scoff that slips out of his mouth. you yourself can't believe that you chose to deliver your words like that and it makes you sound so self-righteous, but they're out, and now you're bracing yourself to finally hear what jaehyun really has to say.

"fucked things up a bit? are you serious?", you can hear it in his voice that he's holding back, but he chooses to laugh in disbelief instead, which you think is actually worse than him straight up screaming at you. "y/n, you didn't even bother telling me in person. you dumped me over the fucking phone, saying it wasn't working."

you now kind of wish that you had just kept quiet and sat in his awkward car, and exchanged awkward niceties when you reach home, never to see him again. but this is your final chance at some form of redemption, and now that jaehyun was actually speaking his mind instead of giving you tight nods, you tried to explain yourself.

"jaehyun, i know, i just–"

"i called you a bunch of times. i tried to come see you and everything, but you went and changed your lock and all your friends were saying you didn't want to see me?"

there goes trying to explain yourself. so you sat and listened instead, and it was the least you could do. jaehyun's voice became more and more strained as he talked, the emotions he was feeling now a lot more evident. he was angry, but more importantly, he was confused, and sad.

"i just- i didn't know what went wrong, you know? we were completely fine as far as i knew", he continues on in a laboured way and he's not looking for you speak right now, so you don't. "fuck i- i thought we were in love."

the little laugh he lets out in between his words more or less breaks your heart, the whole scenario sounding all too familiar. those exact words were the last thing you'd heard from jaehyun before you fully and cruelly broke things off, letting him know the decision was final before cutting the call. you remember that day so clearly. you had meant to go see him and explain all this in person, that’s the whole reason you were in the car, but for some reason, you just couldn’t do it. you remember how much your hands were shaking as you waited for him to pick up the call, sitting in the car by yourself in the middle of your driveway. how long you sat and cried after you ended the call, tears falling until there weren't any left. how it began raining the very second you stepped out of your car to go back inside.

the weather was a funny thing, choosing to mirror your mood only when it saw fit. it was warm and sunny on the day you broke up with him, gentle breeze and wispy clouds all around. it was warm and sunny this morning, the weather ever so pleasant as you plucked up the courage to walk to his door. it was still unusually warm and sunny for the couple months following your break up, feeling sour as ever that the weather was so lovely and all you could do was sit in your room and feel sorry.

you took note of all these occasions because it always used to piss you off. though you shiver now in the car, you think it's kind of satisfying in a way, because the only two times your mood and the weather lined up was right after the break up, and the second you stepped outside your house with jaehyun; it feels like a premonition, or a revelation of sorts. the grey of the stormy sky matched the absolute devastation you felt after breaking up with him, rain pouring from the heavy clouds like they were crying for you. now, the cold, still air feels like baited breath, awaiting your next move.

"and nothing, i hear nothing from you for six fucking months until you're suddenly on my doorstep, asking me to pretend to be your boyfriend for a night. that's fucking insane!", he sounds a little wild now, very exasperated, but you figure it's probably better to just let him get it all out of his system, and you'd do good to listen to him as well. everything he's saying makes complete sense, all the emotions he dealt with akin to what you would've gone through had it been you in his place. "and you know what's more insane? i agreed. after all that, i agreed."

that’s the part you don’t understand. your heart is racing listening to him and you have so many thoughts swimming around in your head, it's difficult to filter them. you feel similar to how you felt back in the kitchen, although this time you can't take a minute by yourself to get over it. you absolutely refuse to cry in this moment, not wanting to seem like you're trying to victimise yourself when you are aware you're the problem. but you can feel your heart breaking all over again.

"why did you agree?", you physically can't raise your voice to louder than a whisper, the tension too thick to try and overpower it.

"why did you dump me?", he counters like a child, and while you were expecting the question, it still makes you freeze up a little. he huffs in annoyance when you don't say anything, inclining his head while he waits expectantly for you to answer. "you wanted to talk? let's talk, y/n. you don't get to just waltz back into my life like it's nothing. it's not fair,"  it's so cold, the way he says your name, but you try your best not to let it further shake you, mustering up the courage to finally speak. "it's so stupid, jaehyun."

he looks like he's about two seconds away from just combusting, the only sound piercing the cold air being the gentle hum of the engine. "don't you think i deserve to know?", he urges, voice edged with hurt and frustration. "i spent the whole day with you and your family, pretending like everything was happy and normal when it's not."

"i know, jaehyun-"

"then, tell me."

you shift uncomfortably in your seat, teeth toying with your bottom lip as you avoid looking at him. "i don't know," you murmur, your voice barely audible to yourself over the pounding of your heart.

"you don't know?", he repeats incredulously, his tone tinged with disbelief. "after everything, you don't know? don't lie to me, y/n."

your throat tightens as guilt washes over you, but you try to stand your ground. "i just... i couldn't do it anymore," you confess, voice trembling with emotion.

"couldn't do what?", he presses, his frustration mounting with each passing moment. you know he doesn't believe you, dead set on getting the answers he deserves. he's driving slowly now, allowing him to turn his head in your direction more often.

"this!", you exclaim but immediately recoil when you see the look of hurt flash in his eyes. "no! not this, i mean- me! it's my fault, you did nothing wrong." you're saying all the wrong things, but you're too overcome with emotion to attempt to form a coherent sentence. still, you know it's time that the truth came out, so you continue to explain with a heavy heart.

"i didn't mean to hurt you," you choke out, and your voice is so thick you have to swallow before you carry on. he looks indignant and rightfully so, but you go on before he can interrupt you again. "but i was so scared, jaehyun."

his expression softens at your state, replaced with a mixture of sadness and resignation. "scared of what?", he asks quietly, his words hanging heavy in the air. you feel the need to pause for a moment, hands balled into tight fists as you try to regulate your breathing. you really didn't take into account how debilitating the night would be on yourself. sure, you knew it was going to be tough seeing jaehyun again, especially if he agreed to pretend to be together, but you weren't really expecting to hash it out like this, the weight of your decision pressing down on your like a leaden blanket.

the car moves so slow it may as well be still but  when you turn to him, you can feel the burn of jaehyun's gaze, his eyes searching for some semblance of understanding. "i loved you", he whispers, voice cracking with the intensity of his words. "i would've done anything for you."

you're still, you're so so still. tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you struggle to find the right words to say, but he's completely thrown you off. the car has slowed to a stop, engine idling before he eventually turns it off in favour of turning to you.

"that's exactly why," you reply weakly, your voice a fraction of the volume it normally is. he surveys you intently, his expression a mix of confusion and hurt, eyes reflecting the very same sadness you feel.

"what do you mean?"

"i was scared of hurting you," your confession does nothing to ease his confusion, but you can see he looks more shocked than anything now. "scared of hurting me?," he echoes, his uncertainty and disbelief palpable. "this is so ironic, it's almost funny..."

you think hearing any more of what he has to say is actually going to kill you internally, so you know you have to rush to explain before he starts giving you a piece of his mind again. "i know, it's so fucking stupid, jaehyun", your voice is trembling from the sheer guilt you feel, bottom lip quivering so much you have to bite it to get it to stop. "everything was going so perfectly, you were so perfect, and it scared me so much."

he falls silent, much to your relief, his expression even softening minutely as he processes your words and this gives you the encouragement to continue. "remember that night on the beach? on the trip last year?", you speak tentatively, wanting him to understand your thought process and the tangled mess of emotions swirling inside you at the time, though it's not much of a defense. the memory floods into your mind so vividly, and you can see it all; the salt in the air, the gentle breeze, the feeling of the sand, your intertwined hands swinging. it was so serene and you'd give anything to be there in that moment again, though it's nothing but a distant dream now.

he nods slowly without speaking, and you release a wet sort of laugh, feeling like you'd choke on the lump in your throat. "we talked about everything that night, our families, our childhoods, our futures...and then you brought up what would happen after we graduated college."

you know he remembers because his eyes light up with recognition and he looks like he's replaying that exact moment in his head, and you hope he remembers it with the same soft, gushy feeling you do. "you said you wanted to move in together, and don't get me wrong, i was thrilled, but it made me realise how...serious everything was, you know?", your voice catches in your throat and you're talking to yourself as much as you're talking to him and he seems to understand that, because he makes no attempt to stop you.

it's silent again for a bit as you two reminisce, but you break it again. "i just knew i was going to fuck up, jaehyun. maybe not right away, but eventually, and the thought terrified me," you sniffle a little, not being able to bring yourself to look up from your hands to meet his gaze. "that feeling never really went away, and it was eating me up from the inside. it got so bad that i had convinced myself that you were going to leave me, so i had to do it first, before i fucked up."

your sorrowful confession hangs in the air like an echo and you finally give in to the urge to look at him, and you're shocked– he looks at you so carefully, his expression soft, much, much softer than before. you couldn't stop the tears from finally falling if you tried , the soft glow of the dashboard illuminating the contours of your now wet face. your shared eye contact makes you feel nervous, but not in the way you were expecting– it's too gentle, too raw and it makes you feel a certain way.

"i know it's not an excuse," you're blubbering so much that your cheeks feel hot, you're practically falling apart in the passenger seat of jaehyun's car while he watches and lets you pour all your miseries out onto him. "you don't know how much i regretted it...but i thought i did the right thing. for the both of us. even though i just ended up doing what i was trying to avoid by hurting you."

it's too much now, jaehyun's too silent, and too not-angry for your liking; why is he looking at you in a way that makes you feel like he doesn't think you're the worst person in the world? you can't hold back the sob that's building in your chest, doubling over in favour of pressing your hands against your face and bawling into them. you're not too loud a cryer, but the tremors of emotion you feel are making your shoulders shake, so you're crying silently into your hands while trembling. however guarded he tries to be, the gentleness of his voice overpowers it as he speaks. "i know, shh...," he murmurs and you can't believe your ears, that the man you thought hated you is actually attempting to comfort you after everything. "breathe, y/n."

like it's second nature to him, his hand travels to your back as the sobs wrack through your body, immediately drawing soothing circles on to your covered skin with his thumb. you don't know how but this almost makes you feel worse, the fact that he's still so caring towards you. you pluck up the strength to lift your face from your moist hands, and you're sure it's not a pretty sight that greets him. your nose feels unbelievably stuffy, and your face is on fire when you meet his sympathetic eyes, the warmth from his gaze and hand spreading throughout you, even though he's now removed it. "i'm sorry," you manage through sniffles, but you think you almost flatline when he reaches his hand towards your face, ever so gently caressing it. his thumb juts out and sweeps across the skin under your eye, wiping away at the wetness. "i know."

"shh, it's okay. you're okay", he coos gently and slowly takes his hand back in favour of imitating slow breaths for you, helping you relax a little as you copy him. "why would you think i'd leave you?", he asks carefully once you've calmed down a bit and wiped your tear-streaked face, simply surveying you now. all you can offer him is a defeated shrug, attempting to collect your thoughts. "remember i told you about my ex? the very first one?"

he nods.

"i moved on obviously, like ages ago, but since then i think i've always had this idea that getting dumped is inevitable", you try to explain, voice small as he listens patiently. "it was either leave them or get left, and i was so scared that it would happen with you, that i'd fuck up so bad that you would leave. i couldn't do it."

he frowns and calls out your name in a way that sounds like he's about to lecture you, but you know he can't tell you anything that you haven't already told yourself. "i know, jae, it was so stupid, i know. i don't regret anything more", you sigh, giving him a tight, small smile when you lock eyes. "i'm sorry."

you notice his eyes soften at the nickname, releasing a quiet huff before he runs a hand through his hair. his body language doesn't carry the same anger it did before when he was ranting, now looking subdued and reflective. "i understand why you did what you did. it was stupid, but i understand", he murmurs, his voice impossibly soft when meeting your gaze, the eye contact so intense that you have to physically remind yourself not to cry again by digging your fingernails into your palms. "i would've never left you."

you nod slowly at his admission, his words hanging in the air. "i should've just talked to you...", you concluded in a sullen way and he doesn't reply in full, just mumbling a soft "yeah" under his breath. you don't mind the silence that fills the car this time, the underlying tension more or less dissipated, but you do notice the time, realising that jaehyun still needs to go back home after dropping you.

"should we, uh...", you gesture towards the road and he jumps up in his seat, as though he forgot that he was driving you somewhere in the first place, muttering "sorry" before twisting the key to start the car. this makes you let out an involuntary giggle and jaehyun shoots you a quick glare which immediately shuts you up, a certain warmth blooming in your chest when you see a small smile creep on to his face out of the corner of your eye.

it's quiet for a bit, jaehyun focusing on the road while you gaze out the window. much to your dismay, both the road and the various buildings and shops start to look a lot more familiar, indicating that you are nearing your home. you shouldn't be dismayed really, because this wasn't the most congenial of car rides, but it means that your time with jaehyun is coming to an end. you don't know what the conversation that took place means for you and him however, because unless you're alarmingly stupid, you feel that he may not hate you as much as he once did. does this mean you might even be able to see him again sometime? in a setting where you're not sweating and shaking at just the thought of seeing him?

you think it might be a bit audacious of you to ask that, so you don't. instead, you turn to him with a light grin, playing with the necklace clasped around your neck. "hey, at least you got some new headphones out of all of this", you joke lightheartedly, eyeing the package sitting on the backseat. he lets out a heartwarming chuckle at your comment, glancing at the bag through his rear view mirror. "i can't believe your parents bought that for me. you think they'll make me return it when they find out we aren't together?", he remarks, and you do your best to ignore the little pang you feel at the reminder of your situation. his comment does make you snort though, and you nod along with him. "nah, you need it more than anyone. your airpods have seen better days."

he laughs again, and you wouldn't believe that you two were arguing back and forth like madmen some twenty minutes back. this feels familiar and comfortable, and you cross your fingers in case you jinx it. "do you remember that time when we planned a picnic..." jaehyun begins, a sense of nostalgia shining through his cheeks. "and you forgot to bring the speakers? and we tried blasting music through my one airpod?"

you can't stop the peals of laughter that escape from your mouth as you nod, covering your mouth when your snort makes him laugh as well. "remind me why we didn't just play the music straight from your phone?", you question, replaying the memory in your mind like it was recent. he pauses to think for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck while he hums. "yeah, what the fuck? why didn't we just do that?"

you're laughing in unison as you take this trip down memory lane together, the next few minutes of the car ride consisting of exclamations of "oh! remember when..." and "that time when...", both of you adding on to the memories with your own perspectives and insights. the fact that the conclusion of your little dispute remains ambiguous doesn't bother you too much at the moment, happy to just enjoy the warm atmosphere while you can.

jaehyun's animatedly recounting a story about your sister downloading a game on his phone when you face him, and the last thing you remember paying attention to was that she had somehow managed to spend a large amount of his actual money on it. your eyes are focused on him now, just studying him, and he seems to realise that you aren't listening to his story when he glances at you.

"what?", he questions, the corner of his eyes crinkling when he narrows them at you in an playful manner, taking one hand off the steering wheel to drum absentmindedly on his thigh. "nothing, i just...", you trail off, scanning his features. "you changed your hair. it's...nice. i wanted to tell you that earlier."

he clearly wasn't expecting the compliment, mouth opening and then closing as he tries to think of an admissible reply. "you like it?", he then asks, a shy smile tugging at his lips when he consciously cards his fingers through the longer bit at the back. at your reaffirming nod and heavy gaze, the expected pink sheen dusts his cheeks and though you can't see them, you know the tips of his ears are pink too. he mumbles something of a timid "thank you", both of you smiling like idiots while he trains his eyes on the road.

not too soon after, his car is pulling into your dark driveway. you can't help the sinking feeling in your chest, lips curved slightly downwards. none of the lights are on, save for the streetlight, illuminating the street in a ghostly, dim way. your house looks just like it had for the past many months, gloomy and lonely, and you're absolutely dreading the idea of moping around once again. if this day spent with jaehyun has showed you anything, it's that you're a 100% sure you've not moved on, and that you won't for a long, long time. simply put, you're still in love with him, and you'll have to carry the cross of your mistake for some time to come.

he switches the ignition off but neither of you move. you're sat in your dull driveway on an otherwise empty street, all the other lights of your neighbouring houses off. neither of you say anything, mostly because you're not sure what one is supposed to say in this situation, so everything is still.

"so–"

"well–"

you let out a nervous chuckle while he smiles a bit, both of you mumbling apologies for interrupting each other. "you go first", jaehyun compels you, but now you don't know what to say because you were just going to make it up as you speak. your mouth has a way of working faster than your brain sometimes, but neither seem to be too functional at the present moment. "no, you go", is all you got, and jaehyun has the nerve to roll his eyes, twisting in his seat a little so he's facing you.

"i was just going to say that we uh, reached your place", he claims in a deadpanned manner, but your car door is still locked and your seatbelt is still locked in. you think you must have lost your mind, hoping that he'd tell you to stay with him forever and never leave (which you would have agreed to in a heartbeat). "i guess we have...", you nod, looking out the window and observing your home. maybe it was the dread of going back to your old routine that gave you the sudden boost of confidence, but you realise he never answered your question from before.

"jaehyun...", you begin but falter when you think you might be overstepping, ultimately deciding to just ask anyway when he looks at you expectantly. "why did you agree to come today? we both know you didn't have to."

he looks like he was dreading the very question you asked for some time, shutting his eyes when he leans his head back against the headrest and sighs. "i don't know", is the answer he gives you, voice muffled through the palms of his hands that are rubbing his face tiredly. biting your lip, you have to hold back a similar sigh because you should've known he's not going to just tell you like that. you have no right to press, but yet you do, one more time. "jaehyun, please?"

maybe it's because you sound so meek, but he drops his hands in favour of looking at you, really looking at you, like he's searching your eyes. "why do you think?", he turns it back on you, but you know this is just his way of avoiding the question. "if i knew, i wouldn't be asking. i know you don't have to tell me, you don't owe me a single thing, i just–", you speak desperately with all of the confidence you can muster, worried that your bottom lip would start trembling again. "please, i need to know."

you're looking each other dead in the eye, and while your voice isn't strong, it's honest and raw, and jaehyun can sense that. you can see that there's a million thoughts running in his mind just by the pained look in his eye and your own heartbeat has picked up, the sound deafening in your ears.

"if you haven't figured it out by now, i don't know what to tell you."

thud. thud. thud. you wonder if he can hear your heartbeat over the sound of his, but the blood pumping through your veins is making your ears ring, because what did he mean by that? you hope it means what you want it to mean, but you can't just assume you know everything because you're delusional at this point. "jaehyun, what are you sayi–"

"i agreed because i'm still in love with you."

there it is. the silence after his confession is positively deafening, your mouth agape as your try to register what you just heard. your eyes flicker between his, searching for any signs that he's just messing you and that it's some cruel joke, though it would be completely in his right to fuck with you if he wanted. he's never looked more vulnerable, eyes trained on you in an almost frantic way, like he himself can't believe what he just said. the way he just blurted it out makes you think that he didn't fully mean to admit that, but it's out, nothing he could do to take it back.

"what?", your own voice sounds like an echo and you wish you had something else to say because you heard him loud and clear, but there's a burning ache in your chest that claws all the way up to your throat. the shock is evident in your voice, not knowing what to do with yourself as you visibly process his words. "tell me you're joking", you plead in a pained way, words barely above a whisper. he doesn't say anything, looking lost in his own thoughts as his eyes scan your face. "you don't hate me?"

"hate you?", he scoffs disconsolately, shaking his head slowly. "i couldn't hate you if i tried. and believe me, i tried."

you can hardly believe your ears. you know your heart shouldn't be pounding the way it is, it feels wrong almost for you to be feeling as relieved as you are. "after everything?", you insist dumbfoundedly, but the longing in your voice is palpable, even if you're trying to give him a way out. "i was so horrible to you, jaehyun." you hate the way your voice cracks, but jaehyun just sighs and offers you a sad smile.

"there's nothing you could do to make me hate you."

it's heartbreaking, how defeated he sounds, but he's also looking at you like you could do no wrong in his eyes. "i never moved on", you whisper, hesitance clear as you tell him the truth. "i couldn't delete any of our pictures, i still have all your clothes, sometimes i accidentally set the table for two when it's just me..."

he's blinking quickly, and if you didn't know any better, you'd say he was trying to hold back tears. your break-up did nothing but cause immense amounts of pain for the both of you, and you'd give anything in the world to make up the time lost. his wide-eyed and nearly motionless expression urges you to continue, ready to pour out your heart to the man you loved.

"i still have your number memorised", your face mirrors his, voice growing stronger by the minute. "all the gifts and letters you've ever given me, they're all still there in that shoebox in my cupboard."

"i thought about you everyday", his whisper is raspy, speaking right after you do. "every party i went to, i looked for you even though i knew you wouldn't be there. you know johnny tried setting me up with people?"

you try to suppress the little sting, but you feel it deep inside you. "he did?", you have to clear your throat, and you almost don't want to ask but you do anyway. he releases a sad little chuckle and nods, toying with his fingers. "yeah. i knew i was doomed when the whole date, i wished she was you."

the smile finds its way on to your face against your will, feeling that familiar lump make its way to your throat. "she could've made you happy, jae", you argue anyway because at the end of the day, you want the best for him, and you know you're far from the best.

"no one could make me feel the way you do, y/n", he replied honestly, and there's a sense of finality to his words, like he'd had this same argument with himself time and time again, only to come to this conclusion. “the thought of anyone else touching you made me sick”, he croaked, not missing the way his eyes ghost over your frame.

his words bring about a noticeable shift in the air, followed by silence. he watches you, and you watch him, breathing slow as your eyes dart across his face.”i don’t want anyone but you”, you confess slowly, and a few beats pass before you find it in you to speak again. "i love you, jaehyun."

silence.

you expected disapproval, maybe even a malicious scoff, but you certainly weren't expecting to feel a soft pair of lips against yours as he suddenly lurches forward.

you're stunned, so stunned that you don't even reciprocate the kiss, lips unmoving against his. it's only when he takes this as a sign of discomfort and breaks the kiss that you find yourself reacting, hands immediately making their way to caress his cheeks, leaning forward to chase his lips and close the distance between you. he lets out a sound of surprise against your lips but kisses you back right away, a hand wrapping around your neck from the back, tangling itself in your hair. the kiss is heated and so long overdue, tangible through the way his lips meld furiously together with yours, teeth clashing every now and then.

your hands make their way to his broad shoulders, one wrapping around them while the other comes to rest on his chest, gripping the material of his hoodie. you have the urge to be impossibly close to him, trying to lean forward to kiss him more fully but you're restricted by your seatbelt. it's almost as if he can read your mind, because the hand placed against your face now moves to press on the buckle to release you without breaking the kiss. "fucking seatbelt...", he mumbles disgruntedly against your lips, fiddling with the button until you hear it click, finally separating yourself from him to slip it over you. "there we go."

you don't stay separated for long because jaehyun uses the hand behind your head to pull you towards him again, capturing your lips in a way that makes all the air leave your lungs. "come here", he grunts, using his long arms to pull you clumsily over the gearshift and straight on to his lap. you settle yourself in to the somewhat awkward position in the enclosed space, but that's the last thing on your mind when all your thoughts consist of jaehyun, jaehyun, jaehyun. his lips are back on yours in a instance, tongue sweeping across your bottom lip messily and you gladly allow it to explore your mouth.

the air is impossibly thick, heavily contrasting to the cold weather outside the car, even his lips and hands feel warm against your hot body. you feel his hands grip your waist easily in this position, lips leaving your own to drag across the expanse of your jaw. you whine quietly at the feeling of his mouth sucking a particular spot on your neck, tilting your head back as you wrap your arms around his neck. "missed this", he muses, tongue peeking out to kitten lick at your neck, breath hot against your sensitive skin. "missed you."

the feeling in your chest when his hands find their way under your shirt and on to your bare skin is inexplicable, unable to stop the soft moan from tumbling from your lips when his big hands glide over your stomach, back and finally your breasts. everything about the way he's touching you and kissing you is greedy and urgent, like he's afraid you'll disappear from his arms if he loosens his grip even by a little bit. you'd be a fool to not match this energy, pressing into him while you squeeze your hands over his. "need you so bad, jae."

you're subconsciously grinding down against him needily, hips stuttering against his lap like you've never been touched before. "fuck", your eyes widen at the groan that leaves his throat, sounding absolutely guttural as he grips the skin of your hip harshly.

he's barely done anything and you're coming undone right in front of his watchful eyes, your panties dampening at the look on his face. "jae..", you whine when his fingers dip past the waistband of your pants, gently cupping your clothed core as you rut against it. "shit, baby", he marvels at the stickiness of your panties, feeling your wetness on his fingers just through the material. "you really missed me, huh?"

you don't even have the time to respond to his cocky remark before his fingers are slipping beneath the band of your panties to circle your clit, spreading the wetness around your folds. a breathy sigh escapes your lips, throwing your head back as he experimentally prods at your entrance and eventually slips a finger inside. "still so tight for me", he all but groans, pumping his finger in and out of you languidly, drinking in the sounds of your pleasure. he feels so blissfully familiar, and though you haven't been touched by him, or anyone for that matter for months, the stretch of his second finger feels the same kind of intimate as it did before, if not more.

you lean forward and press your lips against his once again, kissing him like you might never get the chance to again, all while you're grinding back down on his hand that's fingering you steadily with a thumb circling your clit at the same time. his free hand moves to bunch your top up above your breasts, peppering kisses over the tops of them. he wastes no time in pulling your breasts free from from their cups, attaching his lips to one nipple and swirling his tongue around it in a way that makes you cry out. "my pretty girl", he mumbles almost to himself while cupping your other breast, making a show out of it as his tongue flicks over your hardened bud over and over until your arching your back and pressing it further into his face. “thought about this all the time.”

keeping in mind that you're still technically in a public place, you bite your lip to contain the sounds of your pleasure, though jaehyun doesn't make it easy when he notices this and increases the pace of his fingers. the hand fondling your breast leaves it unattended for a moment to release your bottom lip from your teeth, smoothing his thumb over the swollen skin. "i've waited months to hear these sounds. let me hear you, baby", he all but purrs and that's all it takes for a moan to tumble out of your mouth, pressing your forehead against the side of his face while you screw your eyes shut out of pleasure.

with his attack on your sensitive buds and his fingers pistoning inside of you, you know you aren't going to last long. "already?", jaehyun chides with a small smirk, and it's embarrassing how well he knows your body, grazing his teeth against your nipple in a way that feels painful and heavenly at the same time. you can feel his rock hard bulge against you, and with the untimely grinding of your hips against him, you're sure this is torturous for him. "don't wanna come like this", you whine against his cheek, your entire body feeling sticky from the heat inside the closed vehicle. your puckered lips leave wet kisses all over the expanse of his cheek, and the boyish giggle that leaves his mouth makes your heart flutter. "wanna feel you, jae."

his head is thrown back against the headrest and his eyes are shut tightly, jaw clenched as he slowly slips his fingers out of you. though you whine at the loss of contact and you're almost grinding against the air, you want nothing more than to make him feel good as well. "want you to fill me up", you coo at him, softly linking your hands behind his neck as you test the waters with your words. it's clear they have an effect on him, both hands placed on your hips as he helps you lazily grind against his erection. "don't– have a condom", he grits out, hips bucking up to meet yours. "don't need one", you murmured immediately, knowing he wants this as bad as you do.

his eyes flicker open at that, one hand leaving your hip to brush some stray hairs away from your face, gently tucking some behind your ear. you could melt at the way he's looking at you, so tender and loving, a warmth spreading all over you until you feel like you have to look away. he doesn't let you however, hand quickly coming you to cup your cheek before leaning in place a small peck against your lips. "are you sure?", he sounds breathless, but still firm as his eyes glance between yours like he's reading them.

if he can read them, he'll know that you can't nod fast enough, dragging your hips across his needily to show him. "i'm sure. i want you, jae.", you're so needy that you don't even bother to take your pants or panties off fully, fingers fumbling with the waistband as you shimmy them down a little, leaving your underwear on. you swear your mouth waters when he unbuttons his pants and lets his cock spring out against his stomach, lustful eyes taking in the way he keeps his shirt up with his teeth. if this weren't such an awkward position, you'd have taken him in your mouth in an instant, knowing exactly what to do to hear the man in front of you whimper.

nudging your panties to the side, he focuses on collecting your wetness all over the tip of his dick, hissing at the contact. "please", you whine, not wanting to waste another moment, finally sighing in relief when he begins to press his cock inside you. he swears under his breath at the feeling, and you're feeling so stretched out just from him slipping it in even though you're still so wet that you just go lax in his arms until he bottoms out. "that's it", he grunts like he's holding back. "taking me so well, angel."

you preen at his praise, finally beginning to move your hips a little at his coaxing. sighing against the shell of his ear, he picks up the pace for you, not warning you before thrusting upwards to meet your movements with a groan. you can feel your mind going blank at the sensation, your moans sounding more like cries whenever he snaps his hips into yours, the obscene sounds filling the car. you're just so full, his hands gliding up and down your sides as he fucks deep inside you, making up for all the lost time. "you feel so good, baby", he barely gets his words out, but it gives you the encouragement to bounce up and down on his thick cock a little faster than before, his eyes widening at the feeling. "just like that."

he's kissing and sucking all over your neck again, lips ghosting over whatever skin he can reach and it's all so much, feeling a single tear stream down your face. he almost slows down for a second when he feels the tear drop on to his own face, eyebrows raised in surprise because he thinks he's hurting you, but he's even more shocked when you let out the high-pitched whine. "what's wrong, angel?", he mumbles into your neck, peering up at you carefully. you shake your head profusely, continuing to grind down on his cock. "i just- just love you so much, jae", you blabber incoherently, so wet that you're practically gushing around his dick.

"aw, baby", he shushes you sweetly, pressing his forehead against yours as his thrusts become more and more erratic. "i'm here. not going anywhere." the coil in your stomach is tightening and you can feel every inch of him inside you, more tears threatening to spill from your eyes before he's kissing them away. "i'm here."

he's hitting all the right spots inside you in this position, and he's basically doing all the work because you're like putty in his strong arms, all you can do is moan and cry out against him weakly. "i'm close", you warn him, but you know he already knows that, and you know he is too, slipping your hand down to where his rests on your hip and interlacing your fingers. "me too, pretty", he sputters through his teeth, giving your hand a tight squeeze as you start to come undone. “want you to cum. can you do that for me?”

"oh my god", you're crying out as you cum around his cock, body and mind going numb and ears ringing as the coil finally snaps. "cum inside me, jae, please", his eyes go wide at the way you're begging him, and he doesn't look like he can hold back much longer. "fuck angel, you- you sure–"

"yes, please, need you to fill me up", you cut him off, too sensitive from the way he's helping you ride out your high to move anymore. with a few more sloppy thrusts, his cock is twitching inside you before you lets out a guttural groan, his warm cum filling you up. you go limp against him, face nuzzled into the crook of his neck as the both of you try to regulate your heartbeats.

the sounds of your heavy breathing fills up the car along with jaehyun's soft murmurs of "so perfect" and "did so well for me". any doubts you had in your mind of this being a mistake in jaehyun's eyes are wiped away when he begins petting your head, gently smoothing your messy hair as he presses firm kisses to your head. his cock softens inside of you but he makes no move to pull out, wrapping his arms around your waist while you do the same around his neck, simply sitting in each other's presence silently.

you struggle but finally pick yourself up, gazing at his moonlit face from your place on his lap. “you okay? was that okay?”, he murmurs softly, his voice thick and eyes hazy as he traces little shapes on your back. “more than okay”, you reply tiredly, pressing your lips against his once again because you feel you’re in a dream-like state right now. you're sure he's the most beautiful man you're ever had the privilege of looking at, feeling incredibly vulnerable when you speak again even though he's looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes. "now what?", you question, suddenly feeling like you've jumped the gun when he opens his mouth to say something but stays silent. "never mind, don't answer that, we'll talk about it later", you shake your head, laughing a little breathlessly when he grins at you, pecking his forehead sweetly.

you look away from him and at your lifeless house, mouth working faster than your brain once again. "would you...want to come in?", you wince, feeling kind of stupid for asking but meaning it anyway. you're both comforted and thrilled when a large grin is plastered on to his face, feeling like maybe your home won't be as lifeless anymore.

"i think i'd love to come in."

[monstersholygrail]

Demon Priest tells one of the lost lambs of his congregation to go in peace and they thank him endlessly as they leave. The door of the confessional clicks once as it opens and clicks again at its close. A beat of silence fills the wooden box of absolution.

“Now what do you say, little dove?” Demon Priest raps in your ear, his clawed hand still tightly wrapped around your mouth.

When it slips away the first thing to fall past your lips is a cry of ecstasy as Demon Priest’s other hand keeps helping you bounce on his cock. Fat tears fall down your cheeks as he keeps you right on the edge. You don’t know how long you’ve been in here, having lost track of the time, drowning in the feelings coursing through you.

“Thank you, Father,” you murmur, speech slurred as if drunk off his cock. Moans lewdly spill from your mouth now that you’re free to do so, your hips swiveling on his cock to best set your nerves aflame.

Demon Priest chuckles, leaning back against the confessional wall, and watching as your fat pussy eagerly sucks his cock back inside you and splitting you open on his length. He knows you two need to be quiet, the walls are nearly paper thin… but your sweet sounds are more divine than any choir or church bell.

“Always so loud f-for me, fuck, angel,” Demon Priest hisses, his hips jerking forward as if trying to get as deep inside you as inhumanly possible.

You cry out loudly, tears pricking at your waterline. He’s making you feel so fucking good you can barely take it, the pleasure too powerful. How the hell could you keep quiet? Still, your chest pinches with panic, your emotions so all over the place that your tears begin to spill over.

“‘M sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you blubber out through your tears, repeating your apologizes and begging for forgiveness.

Darkness coils through Demon Priests chest, his eyes flashing and face shifting more demonically at the thought of you needing to ask for forgiveness. You’re perfect. A precious gift that can do no wrong. His claws dig into your soft belly and his jaw clenches. In the blink of an eye he’s molding his chest to your back, growling in your ear.

“Never. Apologize,” Demon Priest snarls in your ear, jaw snapping in warning. You shiver as his words wash over you and they make you even more needy for him. “Nothing you ever do could be a sin.”

His large hands wrap around your wide hips, his feet bracing on the ground, and helping him jackhammer his cock up into your sopping pussy. You can feel the truth ring in his words, showing how deeply he believes them. The realization should be concerning but instead you find your back arching into him, head rolling back onto his shoulder so he can sink even deeper along your walls.

Your orgasm builds and builds with each brutal thrust. It’s nearly impossible to stay quiet at this point, your body no longer in your control. Everything is in Demon Priest’s nurturing hands. Your body burns hot with need, the coil in your belly sizzling and ready to snap. It only takes one more solid stroke of his cock and your vision flashes white as your pussy milks his cock for all it’s worth.

A fierce scream is on the tip of your tongue when suddenly the door to the confessional opens once more. Your heart nearly jumps into your throat and a second later Demon Priest is slapping a hand over your mouth to muffle the noises you simply can’t stop. He draws you into his broad chest, rocking his hips, and helping work you through your explosive orgasm as you tremble in his embrace.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned…” the unknown figure speaks as they sit down on the other side. A wicked grin slides across his lips and your eyes roll back in pleasure at the sight.

Demon Priest doesn’t stop the slow rolling of his hips and your breath catches realizing he doesn’t plan on stopping anytime soon. No, he’s gonna keep working you through each release as he talks his parishioners through each of their sins.

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Every single member of the Batfamily lies about their taste in music

Damian will claim that he only listens to classical music and that everything else is beneath him.

Damian will unironically listen to trashy Arab pop and the absolute worst Bollywood songs known to man (Dick introduced him to them and he hates the fact that sometimes he gets Sheila Ki Jawani stuck in his head during missions)

Tim will put on the most ear grating hyper pop you've ever heard and claim with full chest that these is the peak of humanities capabilities with music (Damian, Jason and Steph have all tried to kill him for this take) He will also play stuff like the living tombstones and sing it obnoxiously loud when he's working on the computer.

Tim however loves his 90s grunge and it's all that's playing in his headphones. (think nirvana, pearl Jam, Melvins, Alice in Chains etc) He has tracked down so many shirts and concert posters and watched every bit of content from the older shows.

Jason will claim he only listens to east coast rap, biggie, Nas, Jay etc and maybe some older metal. He will fight you on east vs west coast music, there will be weaponry involved.

Jason likes rap music... he unfortunately prefers west coast rap and has listened to no vaseline like 500 times. He will deny this till the day he dies...again. (Dick knows and threatens to tell Steph)

Steph will steal the aux and play Taylor Swifts greatest hits until one of the Boys threatens mutiny. Every single one of the bats has had style stuck in their heads during a stakeout at least twice. She will claim that the only rap song she can tolerate in Eminem and the 7/11 is Beyoncés best song.

Steph is an underground fan, think the dude selling mixtapes on the subway type shit. She also unlike Jason genuinely loves East Coast Rap music more than anything and knows every single wu-tang clan song by heart, same with Biggie. Not only does she love the music she also spends any free time binging those "history of rap and its consequences" videos and has been a firm believer that P.Diddy had a hand in a lot of the Death row records well...deaths.

Cass, well everyone thinks Cass has really good taste bc its Cass and she has zero flaws (don't @ me) she never takes the aux and will usually listen to her music while she's chilling or doing stretches. None of them have heard or seen a single one of her playlists except Duke.

its all 2010s top 40s pop music and like the trashy kind too, Beauty and the Beat, Kesha, Katy Perry. It's her turning of her brain time and she will be straight vibing to Rude! by magic or Boom Clap or Shower. she has shown this to Duke, smirked and told him that even if he tried to tell anyone they wouldn't believe him.

Duke is the only one who doesn't... lie. He just hides a few things. Lies of omission don't count as lies when the bats will lie to you about what they had for breakfast, while they are visibly eating breakfast. Duke says he listens to everything and he does. Literally everything. His patrol Jam is offensive bc it with start with Norwegian death metal and immediately switches to "like a G6" followed by kendrick Lamar and then descendants Disney channel movie music.

Bruce... Bruce is just weird, everyone asks him and gets a different answer. Bc he doesn't... like music. Like at all. It's all noise, his mother played instruments so he learned like 14 and he hates how they all sound. He just like vague batwings fluttering in dead silence.

Dick Grayson will obnoxiously play top 40 and radio music religiously around the bats. He claims it's the best music for rhythmic acrobatics and trapeze work and that true! Jason hates this kind of music the most, it's formulaic and holds no substance and drives him insane.

But Dick only listens to that music when he's moving, flipping doing high energy stuff. When he just wants to chill? This man has the most depressing music taste you've ever seen. You know that sad song from ur favorite artist that you can't listen to without crying. Yeah that's his bread and butter. Every single song is just flat out tear inducing, some of these bands have like 100 listeners and he is one of them and it's just their saddest song that reads like suicide note. The titans have conducted an intervention bc its just... concerning. He just thinks it's neat!

[hannieehaee]

IO CHE NON VIVO

18+ / mdi

summary: being abducted and dragged to italy in the middle of promotions was not something wonwoo could've ever expected, but idol life was very unpredictable after all. what had truly caught him off guard, however, was the girl he met whilst strolling the pretty sights at night, fully unaware of his title as idol or any of his hectic life, offering a breath of fresh air he could've never accounted for.

content: strangers2lovers!wonwoo, idol!wonwoo, meetcute<3, shy!wonwoo, reader is lovely and outgoing!!, no race specified but reader's nationality is italian, language barrier (but reader is said to understand and speak korean so its ok!!), long distance relationship, summer love vibes, love at first sight type of situation, takes place during nana tour but does not follow the actual chronology of real events in the show, afab reader, smut, sex dream(?), dry humping, leg riding, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 18.3k

a/n: i want to preface by saying i had no idea where to watch nana tour for free so i never watched it!! so this fic does not follow nana tour at all outside of the premise in which they were in italy for a few weeks!

masterlist | patreon

Wonwoo should've known.

The moment he saw that uncharacteristically free month in his schedule, he should've known that something was up. Neither Hybe nor Pledis would ever allow for Seventeen to have an entire month clear of any schedules. It'd be an immediate financial failure in their eyes.

As much as Wonwoo enjoyed the rapid life of an idol, he missed the days when he was a teenager and time could stand still for a few moments. It had been a long time since he'd had that luxury.

So when he cross checked his schedule with his groupmates and realized they were all equally free of idol duties for an extended period of time, he couldn't help but feel worried yet relieved. Could be possibly make plans during this free time? Maybe rest? Maybe simply enjoy the quiet and slowness of time as it passed without a worry for what was next?

His questions were answered pretty quickly.

As he rested in his room after a grueling week of back to back concerts in Japan, Wonwoo felt content in knowing that he'd get to head back to Korea and rest for a few days. He only had a few simple album-related shoots for the following days, and once those were done he'd be able to cash in on his free month. The company hadn't mentioned any change of plans, nor had they officially announced the meaning of this gap in schedules, so Wonwoo chose not to question it and simply bask in it.

Unfortunately for Wonwoo, life was never that simple.

As per usual, he was not even allowed that a full night of sleep before being bombarded by noise just outside his door. Assuming it was just his hyperactive members meaning to make another attempt at dragging him into their impromptu rap battle, he simply turned to his side whilst nuzzling under the covers, too comfortable to be bothered.

The next disturbance came in the form of one Boo Seungkwan hesitantly opening his door with a key he assumed came from his manager, sneaking into the room as he checked for signs of life.

Not fully awake, Wonwoo continued to ignore the situation, hoping that his lack of reaction for whatever was going on outside would lead his members to realize that he was checked out for the night — something quite usual for him after an extraneous concert.

After a few moments, Wonwoo was able to hear the descent of Seungkwan's steps, meaning he had likely left the room and that Wonwoo could now claim slumber to its fullest extent.

That was until an entire band of people marched into his room, carelessly turning on the light and rushing towards his lone form on the bed. Sitting up sleepily, he attempted to make sense of what was happening, unsure of why this many people had entered his room, and suddenly far too aware of his lack of clothing, pulling his blanket to cover him as much as possible.

Thanks to Boo Seungkwan, his glasses quickly found their way to his face and a shirt was thrown at him to put on while under the covers. It wasn't until then that Wonwoo realized that Na PD was one of the many people currently looking down at him as he laid in bed, camera man next to him.

"What is happening?", he murmured about one minute into the situation, barely awake enough to speak.

"We're getting abducted, be ready," spoke Mingyu with a laugh from the side of the room, looking far too excited and as if he had already been briefed on the situation.

The rest of the details were blurry, but the gist of the situation ended in only one verdict — Seventeen was now headed to Italy.

The free month should've been a dead giveaway, but Wonwoo had simply been far too busy with his usually hectic schedule to even make the connection. It had been a while since the deal to be taken away spontaneously had been made, so the whole thing had left his mind.

Despite his prior desire for some free time, the thought of finally stepping foot in Europe for the first time did bring a smile to his face. Mingyu had always told Wonwoo of his wish to go to Italy someday, which was usually echoed by Wonwoo himself. The chance to go with all his friends made him look forward to it all the more. All he needed was his camera and he'd be a happy man.

One lengthy flight later and Wonwoo found himself in Italy with a band of eleven friends (Seungcheol was sadly left behind) and even more staff members. The gist of the trip was that they'd be recorded simply exploring the beautiful city they'd landed in and playing the occasionally game for content on the show. It had been dubbed Nana Tour, even including personalized shirts for every member.

As per instructions by Na PD, they would get a lot of leisure time to use however they desired. Being a good friend of the group after a few prior meetings, Na PD had assured them that he wanted to grant them as much vacation time as possible whilst in Italy, not wanting to put too much pressure on the content-making aspect of the trip. As long as they were able to record a good six hours of content every week for the duration of their month-long stay, they'd have more than enough for a full successful season of the show.

So now Wonwoo was in Italy, a place he considered to be one of the most beautiful he had seen in his short life. The weather was comfortable, the sights amazing, the food delicious, and not to mention the freedom that came with being out and about on his own, worry-free of his responsibilities as an idol.

Surely he'd get recognized by Italian carats sooner or later, but within the few days he'd been here, always opting to go on a quiet outing at night, he had not been spotted as of yet. Maybe it was the fact he was so far from home and his location was unaccounted for by the media, or perhaps the nighttime making it difficult to recognize him, but he was currently experiencing an incognito lifestyle he had long bid adieu to.

Tonight, similarly to the previous three nights, he made the rounds in the small home Na PD'd staff had rented for Seventeen and excused himself for a nightly outing. At this hour, all activities expected for them had been wrapped up, giving them full freedom to spend their leisure time as they wished. Some other members opted to stay home, having already enjoyed outings during the day, whilst others went out in groups. Wonwoo was alone in the fact that he craved alone time at this hour, preferring to head out with no company other than his camera.

Camera in hand, Wonwoo made his way outside, always heading in a different direction than the previous night, seeing where fate would take him and taking pictures of any pretty sight on the way.

The night was chilly, illuminated by the yellow streetlights that had a tendency of brightening up the city as dawn fell. Maybe it was the change of scenery, but Wonwoo found himself in love with the atmosphere of the nightfall in Italy. Every sight was one to behold. It hadn't taken long for his love for photography to invade his every free moment in the beautiful city. Pictures overflowed his camera roll, all satisfying his artistic eye.

His nightly stroll lasted a good half an hour before he found himself near a shore, looking to the distance and finding nothing close enough to the end of the sea. It was too dark to tell what might be beyond, but the sight was still one Wonwoo quickly became hypnotized by. Surprisingly, the area was quite lonesome, with most people choosing to hang by the brighter areas nearby, housing themselves in restaurants or small shops that opened late into the night. He found himself alone with the ocean and a lone street light providing him with that yellow hue he came to find comfort in.

The comfortable loneliness did not last Wonwoo too long. A sudden presence practically materialized a few feet from him a few moments later, or maybe he'd just been too drawn by the sight to notice anyone approaching prior. He meekly turned his face to the side, unable to help wondering who was his new silent companion. Upon taking a cautious look, he found the silhouette of a girl. Wanting to avoid making her uncomfortable or being too obvious, Wonwoo looked forward almost immediately, now eyeing the view once more.

They stood like that, in comfortable silence, for a few long minutes. No words were exchanged despite the mutual knowledge of the other's presence, simply sharing a moment of solace together. It was unlike any other interaction he'd ever had with a stranger — or lack thereof, really.

He felt comfortable, uninterrupted in his peace despite the presence of a stranger. Wonwoo had never been good at strangers, specially not in foreign countries. He usually found himself being anxious and far too quiet for comfort, never one to pick up casual conversation even in his native language, much less in one he felt no confidence in. His on-stage persona was very different than that of his actual one. Carats were quite correct in assigning the black cat stereotype — quiet, untrusting, keeping to himself.

The silence halted with the sudden stutter of a camera, taking Wonwoo out of the trance he'd been in as he stared out to the water, making him turn to the left in a combination of fear and curiosity. His instant assumption had been that whoever the faceless girl was, she must've taken a picture of him, having recognized him. But as he turned to the side, he found her in a rather awkward position, crouched down and camera facing the sea as she found the best angle possible for her shot.

He chuckled breathlessly to himself, a bit embarrassed that he'd made such an assumption of an unsuspecting stranger who likely had no idea who he was. Where did that big head come from, Wonwoo?, he thought to himself. This girl knows nothing of who you are, most people here seem to be the same, he should be happy.

It was then that he finally made sense of your appearance, as you crouched towards the edge of the shore and gave him a better look of you under the streetlight nearby. He couldn't see your face very well as you continued to face away from him, but he had a good enough view to catch the slope of your nose, the color of your hair, the shape of your body, all distinctive features he could appreciate under the melancholic lighting.

Wonwoo wasn't really one to care much for appearances. Beautiful people came in all forms, but he was one to truly find beauty in a person through other means, usually enjoying the physical aspects of a person's being only after getting to know the emotional ones. There seemed to be some exceptions to the rule, however, as Wonwoo came to find when you got up to your full height, making your way back to your original spot but incidentally locking eyes with him as he eyed you curiously. Your eyes drew him in immediately, finding you beautiful upon a single look.

As embarrassed as he was at getting caught staring at you, his mind was eased when you offered a friendly smile, taking his smile in return as a welcome to stand closer than you'd been before. Wordlessly, you made your way to his side, eyeing the small disposable camera he had hanging from his neck.

"Photographer, or is it just a hobby?", you asked in a language Wonwoo recognized to be Italian. Prior to this trip he probably wouldn't have known the language, but it was easy to tell it apart after a few days of being surrounded by it.

Sadly, his short stay in Italy had not educated him enough in the language to even be able to pretend he understood you.

"I don't know Italian, sorry," he responded apologetically in English, hoping it was as much of a universal language as school had taught him.

"English, then?", you now responded in English, accent as perfect as it had been when you'd spoken Italian. It didn't surprise Wonwoo to meet an English speaker, but he still couldn't help but feel impressed at what seemed to be your knowledge of a second language.

He smiled awkwardly, eyes not meeting yours completely, "Not much, sorry," he rasped with an awkward chuckle, feeling dumb for misleading you by speaking English.

"Hmm," you mulled for a second, eyeing him in a way that made him a little shy, "Korean?" you asked with a tilt of your head.

His mouth morphed into an o shape, nodding surprised, "How did you know?", he asked in English, sure you likely didn't speak Korean.

"There's Korean writing on your shirt," you pointed out with a smile, giggling when realization hit his face and drawing a similar laugh from him, "What brings you to Italy?", you asked, continuing to make brief conversation.

Wonwoo needed to take a short moment to think of how to respond. He'd done many fancalls in English, having to rely on his limited knowledge of the language and the quick assistance of English-speaking staff, but he always avoided these situations when he was on his own. This was a conversation he was interested in pursuing, however. You interested him, not to mention that he found you quite beautiful.

"I'm sorry, it's unfair of me to expect you to answer in English. I understand a bit of Korean, if that helps?", you interrupted his thoughts, pure kindness in your voice.

His eyebrows raised, surprised at your statement. He couldn't help but question you for confirmation, this time in Korean, "Really?"

Your giggle invaded his ears again, causing his eyes to crinkle with a shy smile to match, "Yeah, I studied abroad in Korea when I was a teenager. It's not perfect, but I can understand some," you elaborated, "Am I putting my foot in my mouth by speaking so much? Can you understand me, or should I try my broken Korean?", you continued. A kind and sympathetic smile remained glued to your face every time you spoke, making Wonwoo feel at ease and more relaxed than he ever had with a stranger.

"Yes, I understand," he explained in English, wanting to make things easier for you and with a slight fear of scaring you away if he made the language barrier too blatant, "I have an, uh, American friend. He teaches me," he added, thinking back to his two friends who usually took place of unofficial translators whenever he needed them.

"Okay, that's good. Don't feel shy if you need to speak Korean," you reassured, arms crossing due to the sudden chill of the night reaching you — blame your proximity to the water, "We can work through the language barrier."

"How long were you in Korea?", he asked in Korean, testing out if you'd meant it.

"Three years," you responded, "It's kind of embarrassing how little I learned in such a long time," you laughed at yourself, beginning to rub up and down your bare arms, huffing out a hot breath in the nighttime's chilly temperature.

His focus went to your outfit, noting you were wearing a sundress with sandals, probably not the most optimal outfit for a chilly night out in the town. Before he could stop himself, unexpected words began to leave his mouth, his actions matching his words as he set down his camera bag and shrugged off his hoodie, "Here, take my hoodie," he mumbled in Korean, handing you the sweater without a second thought.

Eyes widening, you shook your head adamantly, "Oh, no, that's fine, I swear," you began, only to for him to push the hoodie onto your arms, silently insisting, "Okay, thank you. But now you'll be cold," you pouted, giving Wonwoo thankful eyes that had his heart warming.

Coughing to mask his reaction, he cleared his throat, "It's fine, don't worry about it. You looked colder than me," he did his signature awkward chuckle again, earning a mirrored reaction from you.

"A gentleman, huh?", you grinned, sharing a brief moment of quiet as he smiled back at you, readjusting his thick-rimmed glasses as he took in the sight of you being swallowed by a sweater that was already oversized over his wide frame, "So, to go back to my original question: Are you a photographer, or is it a hobby?", you gestured to the disposable camera, seemingly not taking notice of the larger camera bag laying on the floor next to him.

It was clear to Wonwoo by now that you had no knowledge of who he was. This sometimes happened when he went overseas and decided to head out on his own. The lack of other members and of a manager accompanying him usually allowed him to go out unrecognized any time he left Asia. However, those instances were far too few, leaving him slightly surprised at someone your age being unaware of his role as an idol in one of the most popular K-pop groups — not that he wanted to needlessly sing his own praises or anything.

Should he tell you? Or would that be too odd? It wasn't as if he knew who you were or what your profession was. This was just a casual conversation, after all. Wonwoo needed to get out of his head and relax. Pretty girls spoke to him almost every other day, with many of them being dedicated fans who adored him for everything that he was, so why did he feel like he needed to go an extra mile to merely interact with you? You liked him well enough and seemed to not care much who or what he was, simply enjoying the calm company he brought, he needed to-

"Maybe I should've introduced myself before intruding on your time alone, sorry," you chuckled to yourself as you thankfully interrupted his thoughts once more. Your hand went out of the sleeve of his large hoodie, presenting itself to him, "My name is Y/N," you smiled, grin growing wider when he returned your handshake and grasped your hand in his larger one. Yours was cold while his was warm, creating the perfect shared temperature.

A quiet few seconds went by as he pondered whether or not he should give you a false name, but the need for a normal interaction won him over quickly.

"Wonwoo. Nice to meet you," he spoke in English this time around, enjoying the way your eyes crinkled any time he spoke in the language, "It's a hobby, by the way. Sorry, I'm not exactly known to be the best conversationalist," he excused himself for his previous silence, now sticking to Korean.

Your contagious giggle invaded Wonwoo's ears again, making him silently hum to himself in satisfaction. Wonwoo's night had evolved from a pretty scenery and even prettier company, Italy was turning out to be even better than he thought.

"Any way I can see your pictures?", you bit your lip, eyebrows raised in question, "I do some photography on the side, so it could be like an exchange, y'know? I show you mine if you show me yours," you gambled, taking baby steps towards him to bump your shoulder against his in a friendly manner.

"You're a photographer?", he asked, genuinely interested in hearing more. Photography was one of his greatest passions, the mere subject turned his shyness upside down without failure.

"Yeah!", you responded excitedly, lifting up the small camera that was hanging from the camera bag on your shoulder bag, "Wanna see?," you leaned to his side, holding the camera under both your gazes as he leaned into your personal space to see. You didn't mind this, fortunately, even making an effort to get closer to provide him a better view, "I took these while you were here, as you can probably tell," you explained as you showed him the pictures he'd seen you take. Somehow the beautiful scenery looked even more eye-catching through your lenses. Your artistic eye made it easy for Wonwoo to appreciate your talent, which you demonstrated through every pic you showed him in your camera roll. They were raw and still unedited, but he could tell this was a talent of yours. A nice sight was always easy to find, but capturing it to perfection took skill, this was something Wonwoo knew all too well, yet every photo you went through showed him your innate talent.

"Do you like them? You're pretty quiet," you chuckled, looking up over your shoulder and causing Wonwoo to realize just how close he'd been leaning. Flustered, he took a step aside, allowing you some breathing room as he looked down to his feet to gather himself for a moment.

"Yeah, they're amazing," he started in English, switching to Korean to further express his praises. During his commentary of your photography, he even went as far as to ask for your camera so could look at them once more, asking you questions about every scenery, every subject, unable to help himself in wanting to know more about your creative process.

As friendly as you'd been from the moment you first spoke to him, you took the praise with modesty, excitedly answering every question and even inquiring for his opinions, curious about his own photography despite his praise. Eventually, he gave back your camera upon vast insistence from you to take a look at his own photos, smiling widely when he pulled out his larger camera from his bag, sheepish as he showed you his pictures and blushing a bit at any and every compliment that left your mouth — and they seemed quite endless to Wonwoo. Occasionally, you'd even let out a few basic compliments such as 'so pretty!!' or 'that's beautiful' in Korean, making Wonwoo's eyes wrinkle at the smile invading his face.

The photography conversation eventually ended, both cameras making their way back to their bags and the two of you somehow finding yourselves on a little walk. Side by side, you took slow steps as you conversed and shared words in your respective language. It wasn't a full on conversation, but the small talk was still comfortable enough for Wonwoo to not want it to end.

"What brings you to Italy?", you asked once you made it closer to Wonwoo's final destination. He slapped himself mentally for not heading a different way when you suggested a walk, not wanting to make it back so quickly.

For a few moments, he pondered on an answer. You were a stranger he was likely to never see again, so lying to you about his presence in Italy probably wouldn't have any repercussions, but he also wanted to be honest. In the end, he opted for a mixture of truth and a lie.

"I'm on break with some friends", he responded, mirroring the question to you, "How about you? Are you from around?"

You nodded, arms folded due to the continuous chill surrounding you despite being cocooned in Wonwoo's sweater, "Yeah, I grew up a few cities north from here. I just moved nearby with a friend," you informed him, "So, does that mean you're leaving soon?"

Taking in a breath, he nodded, frowning without realizing, "I really like it here, but I'm only here for three more weeks," he replied, chuckling at the pout you gave him at his response.

"That sucks. It's rare to meet interesting tourists around here," you said, frowning at him as he mirrored your frown.

As you continued to walk and talk, Wonwoo couldn't help but feel intrigued by you and every bit of information about yourself you shared. Some may even call what he felt to be interest — you were pretty, talented, smart, nice, and these were traits he picked up on only within an hour of knowing you. The intrigue to continue to get to know you began to itch at him.

The fleeing thought of a crush crossed Wonwoo's mind, but he tossed it aside immediately, believing it to be childish and improbable. Wonwoo was 27, for God's sakes, the last time he'd had a crush had been when he was 16 years old. There was no time for crushes in his profession, much less during what would likely be the only vacation he'd get in the following ten years.

Eventually, you made it all the way to the street where Wonwoo's rented house was located, steps growing slower by the second as you approached the location. It'd be obvious to any spectator that neither of you wanted to end the conversation, but it had been a few hours since he'd first headed out, and he knew he had a schedule to attend to in the morning, so he opted to not make himself late the following day.

"Well," you started, stopping and facing him, "If for any reason you get bored during your stay, maybe you'll stop by the coast again? You know, only if you get bored," you rambled, biting your lip as you looked up at him expectantly.

With a laugh, he nodded, squinting his eyes in humorously, "I'll get bored again, don't worry," he reassured, wanting to be direct in letting you know he wanted to see you again.

You grinned widely, making him feel no option but to return your smile. A shock came over him when you suddenly offered him a hug, wrapping your arms around his middle as he let himself envelop you by your waist. The fit of your body against his own felt perfect, but sadly he was unable to really experience it due to the friendly nature of the hug, ending as soon as it began.

"Oh!", you suddenly exclaimed, "Your hoodie, let me-" you went to remove it, only to be stopped by Wonwoo.

"Keep it. I think I might get bored again tomorrow. You can give it back then," he suggested, surprising himself at being so forward.

With another grin, you nodded, offering him a shy smile and a wave of your hand, turning to leave as he stayed there, dumbfounded at the sudden shift his night had as soon as you took notice of him.

Standing there in silence, Wonwoo smiled at himself, feeling butterflies he had only ever seen people experience in the cheesy K-dramas Soonyoung and Dokyeom insisted on watching at the dorms during their earlier years. It was also a feeling reminiscent of the lyrics Jihoon was endlessly praised for by carats. Suddenly he understood it all, having never felt so giddy so soon at a mere interaction. Maybe this had been a meeting of fate. Only time would tell. As of now, Wonwoo found himself looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, and maybe then again and again after that.

Unfortunately for Wonwoo, the following day his mind was taken up entirely by the sudden insecure belief that he would never see you again. His mind went directly to thinking that you might've looked him up as soon as you went home, or that you'd disliked his shy and off-putting personality. What if you had simply been humoring him, only engaging in conversation because he had been in your way? Or maybe you didn't appreciate how easily he'd given up on speaking English, sticking to Korean while you spoke to him in your second language? He couldn't help but reprimand himself for not encouraging you to speak however you were most comfortable or for not bothering to ask you questions of his own.

Thinking back to it, the entire time you spent together was taken up by you trying to get him to open up and by asking him questions in order to keep the conversation going. Although Wonwoo had gone home that day with a warm heart and comfort in your interaction, he couldn't help feeling insecure the following day, worried that he'd go back to that same spot and find it empty, with you nowhere to be found.

As a seasoned idol, he had been able to hold back any apprehension he felt while camera, but he was sure his friends were able to tell he was off that day. Fortunately, his members knew him well enough to let him grovel on his own, simply engaging with him whenever he seemed to be in the mood.

The entire day went by in decades, or at least that's how it felt to Wonwoo. It felt kind of pathetic how much he was looking forward to seeing you, but it was also exhilarating (whilst still very anxiety inducing). Wonwoo hadn't realized what a rollercoaster of emotions a crush could become, especially so rapidly.

Unlike previous days, tonight Wonwoo left the rented home as soon as possible, rushing to find the empty street by the coast that he'd been frequenting since his arrival. For a moment he wondered if you'd seen him there beforehand or if that had coincidentally been your first time walking by there. He knew that if you had arrived there before him, he would've walked the other way, assuming he'd be disrupting your peace. Relief cruised through him knowing you hadn't felt the same way and chose to make conversation with him instead.

Now he stood there alone, earlier than the day prior as he hoped for your prompt arrival, if at all. Once there, he felt dumb at having so many doubts and building ten different scenarios in his head. A desire to be more casual about things like this cruised through his mind, but any further thought was interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

Turning around towards the noise, Wonwoo found you standing there, a large grin on your face as his hoodie swallowed you whole once more. You waved at him from the small distance away, lifting your arm high and swinging your wrist enthusiastically. Wonwoo returned a shier version of your gesture, waving shyly at you with a small smile on his face.

"Wonwoo!", you smiled happily, practically skipping to his side, "I didn't think you'd show," you laughed, "Thought maybe I talked too much last time and scared you off."

He smiled at this, thinking of his own dumb concerns about seeing you again and noting how dumb he'd been to think someone as nice as you would ghost him (and steal his hoodie in the process), "Of course not," he responded in English, hoping to hype himself up enough to speak a little more today than he had last time.

"Let me give you your hoodie," you said as you went to take it off, only to be stopped by Wonwoo just like last time, shaking his head and lifting his hands to prevent you from even removing it.

"Keep it. It's still cold today," he reasoned, truly just liking the way you had something of his and how largely it fit you (though it was also large on himself).

You eyed him curiously but with a smile, putting the arm you'd taken out of the hoodie back in it to upon his request, "You know, tourists usually get pickpocketed around here, but I don't think you need to worry about that, giving your stuff away for free and all," you joked, earning a chuckle and a matching eye smile from him.

"I don't mind it," he responded softly, "Think of it as a thank you for walking me around yesterday," he added, pondering as to how direct he should be about his interest in continuing to see you past the last two days.

"Ah," you said, "An exchange of goods and services, then?", you asked, beginning to walk in a different direction from last time, nodding at him to follow you, something which he embarrassingly did with an unnecessary urgency. Your giggles in response to his rush to follow you made it worth it.

"Sorry if I'm taking up your time," he apologized, realizing that you might've come meet him only due to the hoodie, somehow attempting to read past every other positive signal you'd given him so far.

"No! You're not, at all," you were quick to clarify, "I would've come back here to see if you came back anyways," you continued to admit sheepishly, "Plus, you need a local to show you around, don't you? And here I am, offering my services for free."

Somehow you were able to swerve around every ounce of self doubt that'd spring out of Wonwoo unexpectedly. Interacting with you made him feel weirdly needy, like he had to make it up to some sort of higher power for being able to have you pay him any mind. The lack of unpunished social interaction with a pretty girl had been so lacking in Wonwoo's life that he had no idea how to act around you. Sure, he was around pretty backup dancers and idols alike for a majority of the time, but the presence of cameras was always there, along with the controversy behind any interaction constantly present. Plus, his status as one of the most popular members of one of the top K-pop groups in the industry made it hard for him to ever find true friendship — or more, which was completely out of the picture for him.

For lack of a better term, you were a breath of fresh air for him, something which made him anxious. He knew this was just a summer crush, but he had every intention of enjoying it as much as he could.

Soon after your encounter, you'd dragged Wonwoo along with you to a few different places. It was nighttime, so not every suggestion of yours worked out perfectly. Within those two hours spent together, you'd shown Wonwoo a few cafe's you claimed your favorites (though sadly they were closed at that time), a pier nearby, and had taken him to a touristy area with street food. Thankfully, you'd done all the talking, also insisting on treating him to some traditional Italian street food.

Now with a full belly and a happy mind, Wonwoo walked side by side with you as he ate the ice cream you'd insisted on buying him. He felt like a sad excuse of a gentleman, but Na PD had taken all their money, which meant he was unable to fight you over who'd pay for any snacks tonight.

"So, how's the Italy experience so far?", you asked, shoulder bumping into his in a lighthearted manner.

He smiled sheepishly at you, "It's been nice. It's nice to have a change of pace and relax. Work's been, uh, very hectic these past months," he scratched the back of his neck, not sure how to open up without giving himself up.

"Oooh, that sounds interesting. What do you do? You give me a corporate vibe. Or maybe a streamer? Okay, those are complete opposites. Am I far off?", you asked, a joking tone in your voice.

He chuckled awkwardly, body language likely showing his discomfort. It's not that he wanted to lie to you, but he didn't want his profession to get in the way of whatever was happening between the two of you. In his years of being an idol, he noticed a drastic change in treatment before and after becoming successful. Even on the rare occasion in which someone was unaware of his status, their behavior would immediately change upon revealing his profession — whether this was a conscious or subconscious reaction, he wasn't sure.

These were the reasons why Wonwoo decided to do something he usually stood against.

He lied.

"I work in an entertainment company. Nothing too exciting. It just gets busy every so often," he replied as nonchalantly as possible, "How about you?"

He didn't feel good about lying, but in the grand scheme of things, he guessed it didn't really matter. In just a few weeks, he'd never see you again. Hell, maybe even today would be the last day to see you-

"Wow, really? That sounds fun," you interrupted his thoughts, "I'm a photographer, like I said yesterday. But for the most part I work at a museum nearby. Maybe you'd like to stop by one of these days? In the daytime, of course," you giggled.

Or maybe he'd be seeing you again a few days from now. Yeah, that worked perfectly well for him.

"R-really?", he couldn't help but smile, "I'd love to. When? I, uh, I might have plans with my friends, but I can make time whenever you're free."

"Maybe you should give me your number?", you smiled back, "That way we can come up with a time. It's getting late, I don't want to keep you."

Oh, right.

Pulling out his phone, he noticed it had suddenly turned into 12:16AM. Shit, had he really been walking around the villa with you for four hours?

"Shit, yeah, you're totally right. Let me walk you home? It's really late, I'd feel terrible just leaving you on your own."

Handing you his phone, you entered your number, texting yourself before handing it back with a smile.

"Can't say no to that. Come, it's this way," you grabbed onto his jacket-covered arm, making him stumble for a moment before clearing his throat and straightening his back, attempting to appear entirely unaffected

He was not expecting any sort of physical contact, but he couldn't lie in admitting he liked your arm wrapped around his own. This was platonic enough for him to justify it in his head — though the increased speed of his heartbeat was nothing but platonic.

After walking you back to your place (and forcing himself to deny your invitation inside with a mental slap to himself), he headed back to the villa in which he and his groupmates were situated. The pleased smile wouldn't leave his face, it was kind of embarrassing.

During your very extended goodbye (and a sly smile from you as you attempted to lure him inside), you'd convinced him to meet with you a week later, this time in the morning so you could show him around your workplace and maybe a few other places you thought he'd like. (In the meantime, he made sure he could still meet you nightly, of course). You'd called it a date, making Wonwoo have to bite back an excited smile. He knew the word 'date' in English didn't necessarily mean a romantic outing, but the thought still managed to excite him.

Managing to avoid bumping into any staff or members as he went to bed, he laid down to sleep. This proved kind of useless for the first few hours, however, as he continued to think about you as the night progressed.

He felt beyond silly. That was the best word he could use to describe this feeling. He felt overly excited at the mere thought of seeing you again tomorrow and the day after, and the day after, and the day aft- well, every day he could manage until you got bored of him.

It was difficult to not let his mind wander to the end of his trip. To the day in which he'd have to pack his bags and never see you again. But he wanted to enjoy his harmless crush as much as he could. Who knows, maybe one day Seventeen would land in Italy during on of their tours, and maybe then Wonwoo could drop by your door. Would you be angry if he suddenly popped up again two years from now with the confession of his true identity?

That brought up an entirely different set of questions. Would you swoon at his career? Would you tell him to fuck off for lying? Or maybe you'd just hate celebrities, you did seem like the type of person to keep to yourself. But! He was too! He just had to share certain parts of his life due to his career. Fuck. Would this even work? Was he just giving himself the false illusion of pursuing something with you.

God, he was getting far too ahead of himself. He'd known you for a total of eight hours, give or take, yet he was already wondering how a relationship could possibly work out. He didn't even have any reason to believe you liked him back.

A few hours were spent like this, with a constant back and forth in Wonwoo's brain, overthinking issues that were entirely nonexistent. When slumber finally took him, he was happy to awaken the following day to renewed (and thankfully much less erratic) thoughts of you.

"So he asked for permission to cheat and still lost?", you laughed, hand covering the pretty smile Wonwoo had grown to adore these past days.

Maybe one day he'd grow the balls to tell you just how much he liked it, maybe inspire you into letting him see it to its fullest extent at all times.

For now, all he could do was laugh along with you and mentally high-five himself for being the cause of that smile in this moment.

"This was Seungkwan, right? The super extroverted one?", you asked once your laughter subsided.

Ah, yes.

Within the twelve times in which Wonwoo had met up with you, he'd managed to practically give you his entire life story, tales about his members included. He'd left out the grand part in which he was a in a worldwide famous K-Pop group, but everything else had been entirely truthful.

Each night spent together ran for four to five hours, giving him ample time to fill you in on his life while you did the same in return. The language barrier was practically nonexistent all throughout, with him continuing to speak Korean and the occasional sentence in English and you doing the reverse.

Your conversations sometimes had him wanting to take on English as a full-time hobby, as he occasionally missed a word or two, but you were always so understanding and never minded slowing down or rewording yourself. He, on the other hand, was lucky enough that you never seemed to have trouble in understanding him. It made him feel bad sometimes, as if you had to put all the effort into your talks, but you'd reassured him immediately after he'd voiced this concern to you.

With just a little over a week of knowing you, Wonwoo was now entirely sure — he had feelings for you.

Was it too far fetched to confirm such a thing with less than two weeks of knowing a person? Maybe. But Wonwoo just adored everything about you. You were nice, funny, understanding, you shared a lot of his hobbies and beliefs, and god, were you gorgeous.

Sure, he would not call himself in love, but he knew that if he had unlimited access to you, he'd surely fall as deep as a man can.

With these past meetings, it had been somewhat established that you'd keep contact after his departure. It was a casual agreement (though entirely giddy for Wonwoo). These past few days had already been spent with constant texting throughout the daytime, which made Wonwoo excited in advance.

Tomorrow was the day in which you'd finally have a daytime date together, a short tour at the museum you worked at. After having to reschedule with you a few times, — coming up with lame excuses as to why he was busy without revealing his true profession — you had finally settled for tomorrow. The producers of the show had granted all the members three free days without any single ounce of recording. The first had been wasted before he'd met you, with this being the second one, and the third one likely to be used on you once again.

It had been difficult to ward off his members when a few of them had attempted to make plans with him for the day without bringing to light what had been keeping him so busy night after night, but he had somehow managed. Plus, he was pretty sure a few of them had some sort of idea as to why he was so occupied as of late, but since none of them had directly questioned him, he continued to enjoy you in private.

"So, am I ever meeting these friends? They're the ones you're on vacation with, right?", you asked after the laughed had died down a bit.

Wonwoo scratched the back of his neck, arm instinctively pulling you closer to him — yeah, the physical contact had gotten even more personal through the passing of days, something which absolutely did not make his heart race like crazy. Your arms wrapped tighter around his own arm, aiding in pulling yourself closer.

"They're, uh, busy, but I'd love that! I think you'd get along really well."

And it was true! They were busy. And he did believe you'd fit right in. But it was just too much of a risk right now. He didn't want his secret airing itself out so soon. Maybe it'd be easier to tell you about it all when he was back in Korea, when there was no risk of you telling him to fuck off right to his face.

"God, I can't believe you have to work even on vacation," you pouted, "Your job sucks!"

Well, he wouldn't say sucks, but he got exactly where you were coming from, with the lack of context about what his job was and all.

"It's fine. It still gives me time to hang out with you," he smiled.

You returned his smile, snuggling closer to his arm as you walked side by side, much to his heart's chagrin. As you approached your place, your hands became more and more curious, occasionally traveling down to his own and gracing your fingers through those of his. You never actually intertwined them, but the playful touch still had his heart fluttering.

In these past nights of knowing you, he'd come to find that you were, in fact, single. This piece of information should not have excited him as much as it did, but it couldn't help but alter his perception of your interactions. It was easier to interpret some of your words, your touches, as flirtatious.

Wonwoo was used to touchiness from his members, but the tentative and playful contact you'd have with him was entirely different from what he was used to. It was far too reminiscent of every shy more-than-friends-but-not-yet-lovers stage he'd had with girls in the past. The fleeting looks, the multiple attempts you'd had at inviting him into your home without any blindly veiled excuse for coffee, the constant proximity, the smiles, the wandering eyes, it was all indicative to attraction.

That, or Wonwoo could officially declare himself as socially inept as they come.

Arriving at the front door of the small home you'd been residing in with some friends was always the worst part of your nightly outings. After the first few times in which he walked you home, you had developed a habit of refusing to let go of his arm. You'd lean against the door frame leading into your home, giving him a look and intertwining your fingers with his own as you silently attempted to pull him inside. You'd sometimes even go as far as asking if he'd like to continue the night, that you didn't want to wait another 24 hours to see him (which absolutely killed him).

You'd never said nor implied anything explicit, nor did Wonwoo genuinely think you were meaning to incite anything further than maybe a more intimate conversation in a more private setting, but he couldn't help if his mind just went there. He wanted to imagine a future in which he'd be able to go into your home for that motive, but the mere thought made him blush. He wasn't the type to have sex so casually, but he felt he'd connected with you emotionally so seamlessly in such little time that he could do so physically with a similar ease.

Tonight you went along with your usual routine. You walked all the way to your front door, with Wonwoo halting a few steps prior but letting you drag his arm in your direction. Turning around, you leaned against the frame and smiled at him, fingers reaching his own and toying with them a bit.

"What can I do to convince you to come up?", you asked, tilting your head to the side and biting your lip.

You'd both shared some wine tonight. Neither of you were drunk, but loose enough to relax your tongues. It wasn't surprising to Wonwoo when you asked him so directly. However, it still made heat rush to his cheeks.

Specially so when you took a step forward, letting go of his hand in favor of wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, incidentally making him lean down a bit. Your smile didn't leave your lips, appearing entirely too pleased with the situation.

Wonwoo gulped, hands naturally reaching down to your waist and sighing internally when he felt the contour of your body. He had to restrain from letting his fingers squeeze at the bare skin that laid between your shorts and your top. It was the smallest sliver, but his hands ached to reach up and uncover just it a little more.

"I promise to be on my best behavior," you spoke up again, biting your lip through the ever so present smile on your face.

Wonwoo knew he couldn't go in there with you. He knew that both you and him would convince yourselves of doing more than innocent things with each other under the excuse that his departure was approaching. It wasn't as if he didn't want you. He did. This was the fastest and easiest he'd found himself craving someone.

The issue was that he could not risk marring your current relationship with sex. It felt dirty to think of fucking you and then flying off to another country just over a week later. No, he needed to know things could go a long way before taking that step. He liked you too much to trick you into thinking this could be like any other long distance affair.

But under all these complex emotions, Wonwoo was nothing more than a man. His need to be close to you could only be held back so much.

Burying his face in your neck, he closed his eyes and sighed, breathing you in. His hands wrapped all the way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. Your own hands went to his hair, running through it and aiding in pressing him into your neck. Shyly, his lips traced the skin of your neck, sighing at the scent of your perfume.

It started with feather-light kisses pressed intermittently to your skin, but quickly evolved to hotter, denser ones. He hummed into your skin, almost moaning at how your back arched right under his palms, neck tilting aside so he could kiss you more.

"You know I want you," he breathed, "I don't even have to say it, it's embarrassingly obvious. Just, fuck, I can't ... Not if I have to leave you right after."

You separated yourself from him just enough to look up at him, offering him a close-lipped and shy smile.

"Can I get a kiss, at least?", you murmured with your eyes glued to his lips.

He didn't have to answer, already closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours.

As much as he would've wanted to keep it chaste and PG, his mammalian instincts took over without a warning. His mouth opened, tongue peeking out to seek your own. A single moan from you was enough for the kiss to grow heated.

It was borderline perverse the way in which Wonwoo kissed you, and he was well aware. There was spit, knocking of teeth, groans swallowed by one another (and maybe some hardness forming in Wonwoo's pants). Luckily for you both, no spectators were present late into the night in your small neighborhood, or else they would've been privy to you practically fucking each other's mouths with your tongues.

Wonwoo had to hold back from pushing you up against the nearest wall and humping you until finding completion inside his pants. More so did he have to hold back when you finally pulled away for air and gave him those eyes that he knew were begging from him to come upstairs with you.

With one last, but this time chaste, kiss, he wished you goodnight, chuckling at your petulant pout. Your antics lasted mere moments before you hugged him goodbye, letting him know about your excitement to see him tomorrow morning for your first daytime date.

He went back to his villa that day with an irremovable smile stuck on his face (and some slight discomfort in his pants).

Arriving at the villa, Wonwoo was immediately met with Mingyu and Dokyeom drinking together as they sat on a recliner located in the patio. Wonwoo had initially hoped to pass through the patio and onto his room without being perceived, but unfortunately both boys had been hyperaware to his presence as soon as be stepped foot in the premises.

Calling out to him with what Wonwoo was sure was tipsiness bordering on drunkness, he winced at their gestures for him to join them, groaning inwardly before walking up to them.

It wasn't as if Wonwoo didn't want to hang out with his friends, but he had already drank a bit prior to arriving home and did not want any encouragement in continuing — especially knowing he had to record for the show early the next morning.

"Where're you coming from so smiley?", teased Seokmin, pulling at Wonwoo's arm with a joking flirtatious smile.

"Disappearing alone at night for extended hours ... Are we going to need to draw up an NDA for you?", added Mingyu, canines bared due to his teasing smile.

"Shut up," he grumbled, swatting Seokmin's hand away from him in fake anger, but unable to completely hide the grin he'd had on his face since seeing you.

"Oh! Did you see that?", Seokmin gasped, slapping Mingyu's chest to get his attention, only earning a groan from the man at the sudden impact, "He's smiling! It's true! You were with a girl!"

"That much was obvious," added Mingyu, "The real question is who is it?"

With both boys facing him with expectant looks on their faces, Wonwoo had no option but to groan.

"We're going to drop this, actually. And we're all going to go to sleep since we have to record tomorrow morning," he declared, dragging both boys by their arms in encouragement to stand up.

Groaning in unison, the two large men allowed Wonwoo to push them in the direction of the entrance with him following close behind. He needed tomorrow's recording to go by quickly in order to run straight over to you.

After battling with a few other members who teased him over the pleased look on his face (was he that obvious?), he finally headed to bed. As per usual, you were in his thoughts, but some anxiety now joined in in the mixture of emotions he usually felt after a nightly outing with you.

It was hard not to feel nervous for what he interpreted to be your first date. Except that no such thing was ever confirmed by either of you. As far as he was aware, tomorrow was just you showing a lonely foreigner around one of the many popular sights in the city.

No part of Wonwoo believed you'd lead him on on purpose, but deep inside him he felt that he might've made everything up in his head. There was no way you'd kiss him like that if you didn't feel something for him, right? Or well, he had been the one to initiate that kiss (one that was uncharacteristically nasty, but insanely hot). Had he gone too far? Fuck, maybe sticking his tongue in your mouth had been too much ...

His mind was going a mile a minute.

He decided to chalk these thoughts up to be the usual insecurities he felt late into the night. Everyone knew that late night thoughts were always misleading, and so he hoped this was one of those cases.

The following morning, Wonwoo spent in a constant state of anxiety.

Not only was he nervous to see you right after your first kiss (a rather nasty one at that), but he kept panicking that the recording would run too long and he would miss you altogether. On top of that, he had the usual first date nerves. He kept debating on what to wear (not that he had ample options considering he was not allowed to pack before getting kidnapped), what to bring you, whether he should take you elsewhere after the tour of the museum.

But luckily for Wonwoo, most of his worries died down one by one.

As it usually happened, the recording ended right at the expected time, leaving Wonwoo with more than enough time to choose an outfit and do his hair just right — he even had time for a quick stop to get you some flowers.

Your reaction to last night's kiss had also not been as terrible as he expected. On the contrary, you welcomed him with a sweet peck on his lips, wrapping your arms around his own as you liked to do before thanking him for the flowers.

Your first 'date' also went amazingly. The tour of your workplace had been fun and filled with expert information you'd memorized to the letter as the usual tour guide at the establishment. After the quick tour, you had even insisted you and Wonwoo take a walk to a nearby street food vendor so you could extend your time together.

All in all, the evening went incredibly well. Well enough that Wonwoo didn't think to worry about what was different about tonight's outing, which was the daytime aspect of it all.

Completely unsuspecting, the last thing Wonwoo would've expected was to bump into any of his members while he enjoyed a shared smoothie with you.

Far too content in your company, he took no notice of the three nosy men watching him from a distance, stopping in their tracks and discretely pointing at him while they whispered scandalously at one another.

Their whispers in Korean were loud enough to catch his attention, making him look their way while you were distracted looking at pretty items set out by street vendors. Looking in their direction, Wonwoo's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he began to mouth expletives at them, scolding at them to leave him alone.

The three boys at hand, Jeonghan, Joshua and Seungkwan, just so happened to be some of the nosiest men he'd ever met, meaning that be already knew how this interaction would end.

With smirks in their faces, they headed over to him, eyeing you before throwing secret smiles and winks at Wonwoo.

"Wonwoo! Long time no see!," began Joshua, his voice calling your attention and causing you to join Wonwoo in facing them.

"Who's the pretty girl?", asked Seungkwan in Korean before stretching his hand out to you and introducing himself in English.

You introduced yourself back with a bright smile, "You can speak Korean, I understand," you added afterwards, causing eyebrows to lift.

"Pretty and smart. You pick them well, Nonu," joined Jeonghan, offering you a handshake of his own along with an introduction.

Wonwoo, annoyed at his friends, cleared his throat, "These are the friends I was telling you about. The ones I'm on vacation with," he made sure to enunciate the correct words, attempting to give his friends a hint of what he'd told you about their situation.

"Oh, yeah! I remember their names. You guys work with Wonwoo at the entertainment company, right?," you inadvertently finished the thought for them.

They all caught on pretty quick, nodding along while they forced smiles from their faces at Wonwoo's omission of the truth.

To be fair, with only five days left in Italy, Wonwoo had done very well in concealing such a huge aspect of his life. He was surprised he'd managed to go along with it for this long.

"That's us," replied Joshua, "But he's told us nothing about you. How'd you two meet?", there was a teasing tone in his voice, one that was so subtle only Wonwoo and his friends could take note of it.

You explained your first meeting, elbowing Wonwoo halfheartedly for keeping you a secret from his friends. Wonwoo joined in to add some details of your dynamic, but neither of you ever stated a label to describe you.

Unfortunately for Wonwoo, your outing was completely taken over by the three men, leaving him as a side character to your encounter. You took a lot of interest to his friends, which was the only silver lining of it all, Wonwoo supposed. He was happy to see how well you got along, but was also frustrated that some of his last moments with you were being used up by someone else.

When they finally left you alone (after a lot of subtle insistence from Wonwoo), the two of you were finally left to yourselves as per usual. It was already nighttime by then, however, so Wonwoo didn't have much time with you before having to head back to the villa with the guys.

As per usual, you had a few street snacks and walked arm to arm, content with the comfortable silence offered by the city. You'd each interrupt the silence with the occasional short-lived conversation, but it was still just as enjoyable.

It continued like this up until you suddenly stopped whilst on the way to the usual path Wonwoo took to walk you home.

"Wonwoo?", you asked, slight reluctance in your voice.

"Yeah?", he hummed, looking at you with slight worry yet sincerity in his eyes.

You swallowed before speaking. Your brows were furrowed with what seemed to be worry and your overall demeanor seemed less bright than usual.

"Will we see each other again after you leave? Or is this just a summer thing?", you bit your lip as you asked.

Wonwoo couldn't help but feel some sadness at your words.

Every part of him wanted to see you again. He knew a long distance relationship would be risky and difficult, specially with his day job, but he wanted to at least try. Maybe one day you could come see him? Or he could come back here? He still had to figure out how to ease you into even finding out about his lifestyle, but he trusted that you'd be understanding.

He stood in front of you and grabbed onto your hands reassuringly, bringing them up to his lips for a light kiss on the back of the palm of each. You smiled at this, silently understanding his reassurance.

"I'd take you back with me right now if I could," he began, "But if you ever happen to drop by Korea, I'd have to return the favor of showing you around," he ended with a smile.

"That sounds like an invitation for me to give you a surprise visit."

"Please give me a surprise visit. Give me all the surprise visits," he bit his lip in amusement.

It was agreed then, though hidden in jest, that this was not the last of you. This summer fling was the beginning to something Wonwoo ached to explore since the moment he met you.

His departure away from you and the perfect vacation was not easy. No tears were shed, but one last chaste kiss was had. It was one of the only kisses shared by you outside of the one that almost led him to his knees, begging to take you upstairs (though he was sure you wouldn't have objected).

After your chance meeting with Joshua, Jeonghan and Seungkwan, it wasn't late until the rest of the guys heard the news. His last few days at the villa with the boys were spent with constant teasing about Wonwoo's 'summer fling' as they liked to call it. Wonwoo had to hold back from correcting them, chuckling to himself at knowing it'd just provoke their teasing to increase tenfold.

Immediately after landing in Korea, Wonwoo turned his phone back on to find a message from you telling him to have a good flight and call when he arrived home signed off by a kissy emoji — a very important detail to add, according to Wonwoo.

His response to you came in the form of a short greeting, though your response after that morphed into an incoming call. Wonwoo suddenly remembered the seven hour time difference, realizing it wasn't too big.

Picking up the call, he mentally prepared himself to hear your voice again.

"Hi," he could hear the smile in your voice.

"Hi," he returned, shy, "I was kind of worried you wouldn't call," he found himself admitting.

"What, why?" your smile was replaced by a pout, he could tell.

"I don't know. Just thought maybe I was just a summer fling type of thing, that you were just too nice to let me down in person," he couldn't help but think back to the words of the members.

"It's too late to get rid of me, Wonwoo. Should've given me a fake name and number to ward me off."

"Maybe I did. Maybe it was all a lie," he joked, though still realizing it was sort of a half-truth.

"Oh my god, don't say that!", you giggled, "I can't see your face, you'll make me think you're being serious."

"Was I not obvious enough about how crazy I am about you last I saw you?"

He knew he had absolutely not been obvious about it. He was too shy in person. The boldness was only coming out due to the lack of interpersonal interaction.

"No. I'm pretty sure I was the one who was obvious," you smiled again (he was so sure of it).

"Well, I'll have to make sure to let you know next time I see you."

"Oh? Is that a date, then? We've known each other for a month and I only got one date out of you. That's kind of mean of you, don't you think?"

Okay, you clearly weren't smiling anymore. You were teasing him, and Wonwoo could very well remember that look on your face any time you knew you had the upper hand on him.

Wonwoo bit his lip through the grin he could just not get out of his face, "I'll take you on as many dates as you want as soon as we're in the same country again," he promised and meant it.

"Is that a way to convince me to get on a plane to Korea right now? Because it's working."

He wished that were true.

"I'll catch a flight back to you the moment my schedule allows, I promise," he hoped the desperation to see you in his voice wasn't pathetically obvious.

"We'll see who gets to the other first," you challenged.

Wonwoo pondered on the thought of you in his home country. He still remembered the many times you'd 'threatened' to drop in on him without warning. The thought made him nervous, but part of him kind of hoped it was more than a joke to express your excitement to see him after you were a few countries apart. The reality of you coming to Korea would be slightly more grim, however, considering that it'd be virtually impossible for him to hide his career from you here the way he had in Italy. Being frank, he was pretty surprised you hadn't somehow figured it out yet.

Your call continued for about an hour before you caught on to the tiredness in his voice and insisted he go to sleep. After some half-hearted insistence to stay on call (only to be refuted by you), he finally hung up and headed over to bed.

This routine of calling and texting multiple times a day continued through the following few months. Despite his busy schedules, Wonwoo managed to make time for you almost every single day. The time difference actually ended up working in Wonwoo's favor, seeing as by the time he was done with his day yours was barely starting.

Much to Wonwoo's dismay, the way in which you became official was much less romantic than he would've loved to provide to you, but only a few weeks into your daily calls and his heart just insisted he needed to make things official. He had been scared as soon as the question left his mouth, but your enthusiastic agreement alleviated him extremely. He felt an unexplored sort of giddiness at having you officially be his girlfriend.

Occasionally you'd whine about missing him, something which he soon learned to tame through either teasing or reassurance (it depended on his mood). His confidence when speaking to you grew through the hours of calls and face-times shared between you, along with your more frequent use of Korean when speaking with him. He was so smitten with you, though, that he'd begun taking both English and Italian lessons on his rare time off. Maybe he could surprise you with that someday.

Some months of pure long-distance bliss were spent like this. The guys had been made aware of his relationship and were nothing less than supportive, though the occasional worry was brought up by a few members about his lack of communication when it came to his career. This worried Wonwoo too, but an uncharacteristically selfish part of himself was just too scared of the consequences behind it to break the news any time soon.

It was unfortunate for Wonwoo that that decision would ultimately not fall down to him.

Wonwoo woke up that day ready for a grueling day of practice just like any other.

Most days seemed to blend together as of late. No overseas schedules seemed to be in the horizon for the foreseeable future, which meant that Wonwoo's job for the time being mostly consisted on working on future comebacks in advance and a few shoots here and there.

His life had been pretty menial for a while (at least as menial as an idol's life could be). Your calls continued to fit perfectly with his schedule, and he hadn't had to miss one in weeks.

Four months into your relationship (and about six since knowing you) and you continued to go very strong. Wonwoo had released bits and pieces of his career to you at varying times, hoping to somehow ease you into the knowledge that he had omitted a large truth of his life from you. He'd been open about working in entertainment, having producing experience, working an unpredictable schedule, and traveling a lot. Although these were all true, he still felt an itch at his heart bugging at him for not just coming out and telling you 'I'm a K-Pop idol with millions of fans! I can't date publicly because of my job! I am far from home almost 90% of the time! My entire life is watched at all times!' Perhaps it was the knowledge that that information was incredibly intimidating. But it was also due to how far he had dug himself into this lie.

Wonwoo was surprised you hadn't looked up his name online by now. You'd exchanged instagrams with each other (though, to be fair, he had given you his private, friends and family only, account), but a nosier person than you would've already typed Wonwoo onto some search engine and found him to be the very first result accompanied by hours of content related to him and his members. Part of him was scared you'd actually do it one day and proceed to ghost him due to either the pressure of his career or the blatant lie he'd told you (and kept up) upon meeting you.

Today was one of the many days in which this thought crept into his head. Some days it bothered him more than others, which was why he had already set up a plan to go back down to Italy as soon as fashion week began next month and finally tell you in person. He owed you that much.

For now he'd just let it go, hoping you'd find it in yourself to forgive him for not being open with you from the start while also being happy at the prospect of seeing you again.

This happiness, sadly, did not last Wonwoo for too long. It all started going downhill when you'd called him earlier than normal that same morning.

It was odd. It was about 3AM in Italy when he'd gotten the call. Not one to ever miss a chance to talk to you, though, he picked up without hesitation. This was when everything started crumbling down.

"Wonwoo!", you exclaimed excitedly into the phone.

"Babe? Hi. It's so late over there, what's up?"

The usage of pet names was still new, but he couldn't help in giving into it with no hesitation.

"Nope, don't think so. It's bright and sunny right now."

"Hmm? Are you outside? This late? What are you up to, pretty?", he smiled as he said so, amused yet confused at your words.

"Wanna guess where I am?", the smile could still be heard in your voice.

"Heading home, I'm hoping? It's late, baby. You got a ride?", he couldn't help but continue to express concern. You weren't much the type to be out further than 1AM or so.

"Wonwoo!," you interrupted, "God you're so difficult to surprise- I'm in Korea!"

His former steps halted the moment you spoke, leaving him standing in the middle of a hallway at the Hybe building as he headed to his following destination. You were wrong. Apparently he was very easy to surprise.

"You're- what?"

"Surprise! They're remodeling the museum so I took up a writing job online in the meantime. It's all remote, so I thought why not come visit you. Excited?", he could hear the kiddish excitement in your voice.

"Baby, what? You're here? Wait, where? Are you joking? You're really here?", he looked to his surroundings as if you'd suddenly spawn there.

"Well not here here. I'm at the airport still. I was hoping to surprise you at your apartment, but then I remembered I don't actually have your address," you giggled, "Any way you'd give a girl a lift over to your place? I promise to be good."

The flirtatious turn to your tone almost made Wonwoo forget about all the implications that came with you being in Korea. He had half the mind to leave work right now and run into your arms as he often saw in romantic movies upon a reunion of lovers.

That's when he remembered who he was and where he was currently standing. He had more than enough flexibility as a senior idol to take off for the day and whisk you off your feet and over to his apartment. However, it was the trip in between that proved problematic seeing as Jeon Wonwoo would easily be spotted at the airport, especially if he had a pretty girl in his arms while there.

But this thought didn't stop Wonwoo from happily agreeing to picking you up. You were the girl he was in love with, having traveled all the way to him in hopes of being received with open arms. There was no timeline in which he'd ever say no to you.

"I- I'll pick you up," he stuttered, unable to mask his nerves, "I'll be there in twenty minutes, okay, baby? Can you come meet me in the parking lot? I won't be able to get out of the car. I- I'll explain later, okay?", he attempted.

You hesitated for a moment before responding, "Uh, okay, Nonu. Whatever works for you. Tell me you're excited to see me, at least?", you encouraged with a pout somehow noticeable in your tone.

"You have no idea how happy I am. God, I can't wait to see you, angel," he couldn't help the dulcet tone that took over his voice. He probably looked like a freak to any staff member passing by.

"You better be. I don't travel to another country just for any man."

"I'm the luckiest man," he entertained you (whilst fully believing the statement), "Stay where you are, okay? I'll text you where to meet me once I'm there. Be good and don't talk to any strangers," he couldn't help but warn worriedly.

"Yes, dad," you jokingly mocked, "See you soon, Nonu. Love you, mwuah!" you did a kissy sound at the phone, demanding one back from him before finally hanging up.

Wonwoo practically ran over to his manager after that, asking for the keys to the car in which he was usually driven while in Korea. He explained the situation to anyone who needed to be privy to it before heading over to you, anxious yet excited to see you. Once there, he parked somewhere easy enough to locate and called you in order to direct you to his current location.

The moment he saw you from a distance, he couldn't help but let a smile take over his entire face. It hurt from how big and annoyingly there it was, but he hadn't felt this giddy in months. The only moment that beat it was when you also noticed his car, practically running to it with your suitcases dragging behind you. It took everything in Wonwoo not to get out of the car, which served as a reminder of the uncomfortable conversation that was to come. All was forgotten, though, the moment you entered the unlocked car and immediately jumped at Wonwoo to the best of your ability inside the small space on the front seat.

"Nonu!", you squealed, wrapping your arms around him and practically making your way over to his lap. Your door was still open and your suitcases sitting right behind you, but your priorities were clear.

Wonwoo's arms wrapped right around you, squeezing you against his chest as he nuzzled his head into your hair, humming at the warmth you immediately provided him with.

"Missed you so much. You have no idea, pretty girl."

"I have some idea," you hummed back, attempting to pull away but being denied by a tightening of Wonwoo's arms around you, to which you responded with a giggle.

"Give me one more minute," he murmured.

After what was easily more than a minute, you finally pulled away, creating enough distance to look into his eyes with a smile that mirrored his own.

"I want to kiss you, but I'm also hyperaware of my suitcases being stolen," you giggled, "You guys got any pickpockets in Korea?"

He laughed, "Get your stuff in the car, pretty. I'll kiss you all you want when I get you back home."

"Oooh, home? Am I staying at your place then? Stealing me away already?"

"Yup, I'm holding you hostage for as long as you're in Korea," he said nonchalantly as he started the car after you'd logged your stuff onto the backseat.

"Don't threaten me with a good time."

To Wonwoo's fortune, his car's windows were tinted from outside view, which meant he did not have to worry about anyone seeing you with him. He was also lucky enough to not have bumped into any Seventeen related billboards or such that may have given away his identity. But despite this, Wonwoo knew he had to break the news to you sooner rather than later. During his ride over to the airport he'd decided to tell you as soon as he got you settled at his apartment. There was no use in delaying it.

"Woah, how rich are you? This place looks so expensive," you wowed at him as soon as you stepped foot in his and Mingyu's shared luxury loft.

He chuckled and dismissed your compliment, opting instead to move your suitcases to the side so he could finally envelop you in a proper hug. There were no complains from you, or at least that's what he got from the sigh of contentment you released against his chest at his embrace. Swaying you back and forth a bit, he pressed you impossibly close to him, taking his time to enjoy the faint smell of your perfume that had somehow survived your flight. You had a warmth to you, probably brought from the nap he was sure you'd taken during your flight. It felt far too nice to hold you like this.

"God, you missed me so bad," you teased, chin propping itself on his chest and staring up at him with a grin.

"Not gonna deny it," he murmured, pecking your lips when you puckered them up at him.

Falling into domesticity with you felt completely natural to Wonwoo. He was slightly surprised at the realization that he no longer felt the same nerves around you that he did back in Italy. It might've been the tons of hours spent on facetime calls, but it was still unexpected to Wonwoo. You simply brought a brand new level of comfort to him.

"Well, kiss me about it!", you pouted, continuing to pucker your lips to demand more kisses.

Leaning down, he finally captured your lips in the way he had been wanting to since that tipsy kiss back in Italy. His hands held onto the small of your back while yours found a home in the treces of his hair. You'd mentioned you liked the length, which had been a great contributor in his denial to do any changes to it when his stylists suggested so upon his return to Korea.

The kiss grew more heated than Wonwoo had planned, but he couldn't help himself in wanting to enjoy you while he had the chance. The two of you were finally together in the daylight, behind closed doors and alone. This was a circumstance you had never had the privilege of being under.

It was you who began walking backwards, Wonwoo believed, but he wasn't too sure seeing as his feet followed you anyway. He made sure your head didn't bump into the wall once you'd reached it, but his focus was quickly taken right back to you at the increase in proximity. Practically molded into each other, you continued to explore each other's mouths with a mixture of frustration and need.

It was quite reminiscent of your first kiss. It was heavy and loaded with yearning. Humming into your mouth, Wonwoo gasped when he felt you readjust his hands so he could feel you up in ways he'd been imagining but did not think he'd have the balls to do once he found himself in your presence. Taking note of the silent consent, he let his hands enjoy the curves of your body and swallow any moans that left you as a result.

"Nonu," you mumbled when his lips began trailing down, teeth gracing lightly at your skin, "Should we go to your room?"

He didn't respond, instead pressing a few more kisses on you before taking hold of your hand to lead you into the couch located in the living room— he had no headspace to make it to his room. Once there, you became immediately excited to push him on the couch, straddling his hips as he say at the edge of it and continuing your ministrations.

"Is this okay?", you sighed into his lips upon beginning to feel up the skin under his shirt, fingers itching to fully remove it.

A nod from him was seemingly all you needed to begin unbuttoning his shirt while Wonwoo himself allowed his own hands to explore the skin under your clothes.

Everything was happening so fast, but neither you nor Wonwoo had it in you to stop. There had been tension between you every night you met up in Italy, and somehow this tension only continued to build with the distance suddenly placed between you. If it had been up to Wonwoo, he would've taken this all the way to the end, and then some. Already with a fully unbuttoned shirt and your own gone altogether, Wonwoo was ready to bury his head in your bra-covered breasts and let you grind on him until his brain was complete mush.

But then you suddenly stopped.

"Hmph," you grunted between kisses, pulling away and looking over his shoulder with a muted gasp. You pointed behind him as you halted the movements of your hips while Wonwoo was still on a daze caused by your lips.

"What's that?"

With some effort, Wonwoo turned his body as much as he could, having to maneuver you on top of him as he zeroed in on what you were looking at and- fuck.

"Is that you?," you got up, heading over to the object that had caught your attention, "Is that Elle magazine?"

By then, you'd gotten off him altogether, walking over to the section of his living room that held the small make-shift shrine of magazines Mingyu had insisted on making a few weeks ago. This wall had multiple magazines hung on it, with a majority of them being Mingyu's while the rest were some of Wonwoo's.

"Is that Kim Mingyu? Wait, shit. Your roommate– Your Mingyu is the Kim Mingyu? Wonwoo, what the fuck?"

You were now standing next to the shrine, only donning a bra as you looked to Wonwoo with immense confusion in your face all while he continued to feel a tingle on his lips due to your previous activities.

Wonwoo had told you the names of all his friends throughout your time of knowing each other, blindly hoping that you'd be none the wiser — which you'd been. So he was slightly shocked at the sudden realization that you somehow made the connection between his roommate Mingyu and the Kim Mingyu currently displayed multiple times on his wall.

"You know Mingyu?", he asked dumbfounded, clearly not focusing on the actual matter at hand.

"I saw he was at Paris fashion week and on some billboards-," you interrupted yourself with a shake of your head, "That's not important!" you went to grab at one of the many magazines displaying Wonwoo, "You're on a magazine cover? Wonwoo, are you ... Oh my God, you're- are you an idol?", you finally asked.

To Wonwoo's dismay, your shock did not seem like the positive kind that he'd grown used to any time people found out he was part of a popular idol group. No, your shock seemed more so frustrated, angry even.

Getting up, his hands went to halfheartedly cover up his chest by closing his unbuttoned shirt before carefully making his way to you.

"I- I'll explain, okay? Can we sit down? I'll answer any questions you have, just sit with me," he practically pleaded, hesitant in extending his hand for you to take and sighing in relief when you accepted it, letting him lead you back to the couch, sitting side by side this time.

Your body turned to his, "Wonwoo-"

"Yeah, I'm an idol," he began, giving up on his ruse, "I'm in a group called Seventeen with Mingyu. I, uh, I was recording a variety show while we were in Italy. That's why I could only ever see you at night. That's also why I couldn't get out of the car when I picked you up," he let it out all at once.

You sat there in silence, eyebrows raised in shock and mouth adorned with a slight frown. Your appearance didn't give Wonwoo a feeling of anger, but rather something worse — disappointment.

At your silence, Wonwoo cleared his throat and continued.

"I didn't mean to lie to you. When I met you, I was sure I'd never see you again after those first few days, but then we kept meeting, and, and then we kissed and started, well, our relationship, I guess. Before I knew it, I ended up liking you far more than I'd ever allowed myself to like anyone before," he rambled, hands anxiously squeezing your own every so often, "I thought that I'd be ruining what we had if I told you the truth and I'd end up scaring you off or that you wouldn't see me the same anymore," he took a deep breath before continuing, "But I'm sorry. I never should've kept this from you. Specially not for as long as I did. I should've trusted you with this and not blindsided you like this, and I'm so, so sorry."

By the time he finished you were still silent, looking down at your intertwined hands rather than at him and with a sad look on your face. Wonwoo decided to give you a few moments before he attempted to speak again, hoping that his apology might at least be the beginning of him making it up to you.

After what felt like hours, but was likely mere seconds of silence, you finally landed your gaze on him, gulping before speaking up.

"Wonwoo, I- Did you think I could be that shallow as to care about you being an idol?", you sounded hurt as you said it, though you continued to give him the privilege of holding your hand.

"No, no, it's nothing like that, I-"

"Then why didn't you trust me? I understand not telling me while we were in Italy, but, now? We've been doing long distance for months. We've said I love you to each other. Did I- did I do something to make you not trust me?"

"No!", he couldn't help but feel exasperated.

He cleared his throat, wanting nothing more than to remain calm and show you how apologetic he was the best that he possibly could. Squeezing your hands once more, he shifted on the couch again, propped leg touching your own as he pleaded with his eyes.

"It wasn't about you. I need you to please understand that. Nothing about you made me distrust or want to lie to you," he took a breath, "This was all me. I was insecure and panicked and ended up lying to you in the process. I should've told you. There's no fixing my mistake, but I want you to know that I love you and I trust you. Completely. I was going to tell you as soon as we made plans for you to come visit me, or as soon as I went back to Italy, whichever came first. I- I couldn't do this over the phone. I owed you that much, at least."

Wonwoo had said his piece. He liked to think he was good with words, writing them for a living and all, but with you sitting in front of him, distrust in your eyes, he felt like he'd spoken all the words imaginable and had been left with nothing coherent enough to convey his feelings. He wished he had the same poetic tongue he showed off to his fans time and time again, but you were on an entirely different league to him.

"I'm just ... hurt. I'm hurt you didn't tell me. I'm hurt that I didn't know about this huge part of your life that clearly means a lot to you," you paused for a second to sniffle, showing the first sign of crying that Wonwoo hoped wouldn't come, "I'm hurt you'd be willing to have sex with me while still lying about your identity."

Oh.

Oh, he-

"Would you have told me after we'd slept together? Or were you just going to give me an NDA to sign right after?", there was a slight tone of snark in your voice as you let go of his hand for the first time.

Wonwoo felt hurt by your words. He knew you didn't mean them. That you knew he felt more for you than to string you along just to send you running with a legal document detailing your contractual obligation to keep whatever happened between you a secret. But this still didn't take away the sting.

But no part of him blamed you. It was possible that you did feel like he'd been using you. That he took advantage of your lack of knowledge of him to live out some fantasy of his in which he didn't have to worry about being an idol.

"I'm sorry. I'd never- it was never like that for me. You weren't just an NDA to me. I wanted to keep you away from all that stuff for as long as I could. But I never consulted you about it. I should've let you decide whether you wanted-" he cleared his throat, swallowing the vile building there, "whether you'd still want to be with me despite that."

Upon looking into your eyes, he saw a slight change in your demeanor. Unbeknownst to him, his eyes had begun forming tears, tears which your hands immediately reached up to wipe at with the most delicacy imaginable. His lips tugged up slightly at your demonstration of affection. One of his hands came up to hold yours hostage against his cheek, leaning into it when you caressed it. Your eyes now showed more compassion than anything, with your frustration at him being overtaken by care for him.

"I'm sorry, I-" he went to apologize, only to be interrupted by your moving closer to him on the couch and sushing him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I know you didn't- I know you wouldn't do that, I'm just ... I'm just mad, I'm sorry," you needlessly apologized, causing Wonwoo to shake his head in an exasperated manner.

"You should be mad. I lied to you," he chuckled sadly at your frown. It made him melt how your immediate reaction to him crying was to push everything aside and comfort him.

"I'm not actually angry. I'm just disappointed. I feel like there's this huge part of your life I was just left out of while I opened myself up to you entirely," you mumbled sadly.

"I know," he whispered, not knowing what else to say and being entirely too scared that anything else would make you take your hands away from him.

A moment of silence passed by while you both sniffled and you continued to wipe at his silent tears. His hand held onto your empty one, heart accelerating at how you held his back.

"I would've liked you just the same, you know," you mumbled a few moments later.

"What?", he asked as if he hadn't heard you.

"I wouldn't've minded your job. I would've liked you just as much as I already do. I- I would've been willing to put the extra work it would've taken for us to be together if necessary," you continued.

His stomach churned. He knew this. Deep within him, he felt a connection so strong, which he knew was entirely mutual. The thought made him happy, but that was quickly taken away when he remembered the context of the conversation.

"I know," he rasped, "I- I should've known," he corrected, "I'm sorry."

Wonwoo was unsure as to what was supposed to happen next. He wanted to leave it up to you. No matter what your decision was, he'd respect it.

"I don't want you to beat yourself up over it, Wonwoo. I just ... I think I need a little while to think things over, if that's okay," you looked to him with a small smile which he returned.

"Yes, of course. Anything you need. Do you- do you want me to get you a hotel? Or ... Would you still want to stay with me?," he felt so pathetic asking, but he held the hope that you'd still be willing to stay with him.

"Of course I want to stay here. I told you, Wonwoo, I don't travel to another country for just any man," you joked lightheartedly, making Wonwoo chuckle lightly.

The conversation mostly ended there. You continued to awkwardly put your shirt back on and settled yourself in his room. He decided to stay at home for the rest of the day, attempting to mend things with you.

You continued to treat him as usual, occasionally asking him about his career, to which he responded awkwardly but attempted to keep things casual as to not make the situation uncomfortable. For the most part, he helped you settle down, as you'd informed him you'd be staying for two months due to the duration of your current assignment. At some point you'd offered to stay at a hotel, likely sensing his change of demeanor after your argument, but he profusely insisted you stay.

When it was time to sleep, he felt even more awkward, not knowing whether he should offer to sleep in the living room or bunk with Mingyu to avoid making you uncomfortable by staying on the same bed.

"Don't be dumb. I don't mind sleeping together," had been your nonchalant response, not noticing his reaction at the implication.

"Are you sure? I don't-"

"Wonwoo!", you suddenly raised your voice, pinching at your eyebrows in frustration afterwards, "I'm not mad at you."

You made your way over to him, putting down some of the stuff you'd been organizing in the walk-in bathroom located in his room. Once in front of him, you hesitated for a second but opted to hold his hands as you often liked to do.

"I want to spend time with you. Let's just ... let's try to move past it. I'm not angry, I just need to process it a bit, okay? I'd still like to share a bed with you, if you want that too," you looked shy for a mere second, "I've always thought about cuddling you," you finished with a small giggle.

Wonwoo smiled fondly at you, letting his guard down the most he had been since this afternoon's situation. He went on a whim and hugged you, pressing you comfortably against his chest.

"I'd love that. Thank you," he found himself thanking you as he led you to bed, humming happily when you removed any distance from between the two of you as soon as you laid down.

"I've always wanted this," he whispered against you, arms holding you safely against him.

"Me too," you whispered.

Like that, you fell into slumber, giving Wonwoo a brand new hope that things would be okay.

The following day started very differently than originally imagined. Part of Wonwoo was convinced it had all been a dream. The groggy part of him as he laid there, pressed up against you and only about 10% awake was truly convinced that he was currently in a dream state.

Which was why what followed didn't seem out of the ordinary for him.

This had not been the first time Wonwoo had dreamt of you.

Although most of his dreams were sweet and innocent, filled with your pretty smile and sweet touch, there were a few outliers. These were some which he was mostly embarrassed by, but he really couldn't deny enjoying them.

This dream seemed like a bit of a rollercoaster, really. It all began with you coming to visit him? In Korea? Man, was he elated to have you. But then the inevitable happened. You'd found out about his lies. You'd gotten hurt by him. He'd disappointed you.

He was unsure how the rest progressed, but somehow he ended up in bed with you, sharing an 'I love you' before falling asleep by your side.

What ensued after had been his favorite part.

Having you pressed up so closely against him had an immediate effect, or at least so much was obvious by the sudden tightness of his boxers. His hips took a mind of their own as they pressed further against the ass curved so perfectly against him.

His hands held tightly onto your hips, beginning to slowly hump against you.

Many of his M rated dreams about you went on like this. It'd start with some scenario involving you and eventually evolve into Wonwoo humping his bed in his sleep, but it always felt entirely too real.

Almost as real as now, but maybe not quite.

Maybe because this was real. It just took Wonwoo a little while to realize it.

What began to break him out of his sleepy daze had been the breathy sigh he heard in his vicinity. But what truly took him right out was when his pillow(?) pushed back against him, drawing a pathetic whimper from his throat.

Opening his eyes, he then realized the reality of the situation.

He just so happened to have his pretty girl actually on his bed.

It all came back to him immediately. The surprise visit, the almost-sex, the revelation, the crying, the reconciliation, everything.

But his hips never stopped moving.

And when they did, he suddenly felt a hand draw back and press his own hand further into your hip, a whisper of a voice coming out.

"Keep going, Nonu ..." you said, pushing yourself even harder into him.

With a groan, he buried his face into your neck, kissing the skin he found there. This was when he really lost himself.

"Fuck," he groaned, hips humping you with desperation. It was that morning sensitivity that had him acting on impulse, he knew this, but he still couldn't help himself — especially when you began moaning along.

"Take off your pants," you grunted.

It was obvious to Wonwoo what you wanted to do, which was why no objection was had as he undid the drawstring of his pajamas before pulling out his dick just enough for you to dig behind you and take hold of it in the pretty hands he'd dreamed of many times before.

Lowering your own sleeping shorts just enough, you did the unexpected, burying his cock between the nonexistent space between your thighs and encouraging him to hump his dick against him.

He gasped at the tightness, feeling the upper side of his dick be permeated with the wetness you'd released. His brain piratically short-circuited at knowing just how close you were to him.

"Baby," he grunted.

"Feel good, Nonu?", you grinned. He couldn't see your face, but he just knew.

Head still buried against you, he whined a pathetic 'yes' while he sucked love bites into your neck. It was downright pitiful how good he felt without actually fucking you, but his hips just wouldn't stop seeking that tightness.

He continued to grace your cunt, giving you what knew must've been a frustrating amount of stimulation — enough to have you wanting more, but lacking the fulfillment he could easily give you once inside you.

Wonwoo really wanted to make you cum. God, did he want to flip you to your back and have his way. But this felt so fucking good. It was a lost battle and you knew it. It had been your plan from the moment he'd woken you up by grinding against you. It was all so transparent to Wonwoo. You wanted to torture him, and god did he want to be tortured.

With a few more thrusts between your thighs, he finished. The whimpers left against your skin would've been embarrassing had he not felt the pulsing of your cunt any time a sound left his throat. You liked it, and he wanted to give you everything you liked.

You turned around afterwards, now facing him and immediately stealing a kiss from him. No words needed to be shared when he'd missed your kiss so much. Not when he felt so good as he kissed you. Making love to your mouth as badly as he wanted to your cunt, he kissed you until you were both out of breath.

His leg caught onto your middle, sneaking its way between your legs as you dragged your cunt against it whilst continuing your kiss. Your pants and heavy breaths landed directly into his mouth, but he welcomed it, ensuring your lips remained connected. Dragging your middle up and down his leg, he could feel your high approaching. You pulsed and writhed at the friction, angling yourself however you saw fit while Wonwoo aided you by dragging his leg in synch.

With a broken gasp, you came while Wonwoo's embrace never left you. A visceral reaction overtook him during your orgasm. The sight and feeling of the pretty girl he'd been thinking about for months finally falling apart under his barely-there touch had the most obvious effect — he was hard, again.

"Wonwoo," you breathed out after catching your breath. Your hand found his chin, angling him to look into your eyes.

"Hmm?", he was slightly nervous at how deadpan your tone sounded.

"I need you to fuck me."

"A-ah," he grunted when you guided him on top of you, "Are you sure?" he breathed once hovering over you.

"Extremely."

"But-"

"Wonwoo, I love you. I've been wanting this since Italy. It's okay, I promise," you went to hold his face in your hands, smiling that pretty smile at him as you spoke, topping it off with a chaste peck.

"I love you too," he smiled back, connecting your lips for a longer kiss.

The rest was pretty much history. Your bodies molded with one another, foreplay becoming far too natural for your first time together. You kissed and felt every inch of each other's bodies before Wonwoo blindly patted his end table for a condom, entering you when you continued to insist on him doing so.

He groaned into your neck, puffing hot air against your sweaty skin at just how perfectly he felt. He'd missed your presence so bad, but he didn't realize he could miss this despite having never had it before. It was clear to him now that there was no way he could ever let you leave Korea again. He'd have to ditch his job and hike a flight back to Italy or simply hold you hostage in Seoul.

Or maybe that was just the pussydrunkness speaking.

"Move," you whined after too many seconds spent by Wonwoo attempting not to lose himself as soon as he entered you.

It became even more tortuous when he began bumping in and out of you. He found the perfect rhythm immediately, with your hips humping upwards and aiding him in the task. He wasn't sure if it was because you just so happened to be made for him or if it was due to how much he loved you, but the feeling of you was completely unrivaled by anything else he'd experienced in his 28 years of life.

His arms went to the back of your thighs, lifting them further up his waist to hold you as close to him as possible. Your responded by digging your nails into his biceps, crying out his name when the canting of his hips just became too much to handle.

"Fuck, just like that," you sighed, "R-right there!", was your next respond when he angled you just perfectly.

Knowing his orgasm was just moments away, he followed your every direction, becoming in tune with your body almost immediately. His thumb was practically glued to your clit, working different patterns until he found one that had your eyes rolling back. It was hard not to become obsessed with your pleasure upon getting a taste of it.

"F-fuck. Gonna cum, Nonu," your nails dragged down his back.

He hissed at the pain, but drank it all in. His grunts encouraged you to do whatever you wanted to him. He was yours from now on.

"Cum, pretty. I'm right behind you," he panted. That dancer's stamina was really paying off right now.

Your orgasm led directly to his own, with mumbles of 'I love you's muttered as mantras as you both entered and rode your highs. The sticky sweat shared between your bodies did not bother Wonwoo as he nuzzled against you, making sure he did not drop his entire body weight into you while keeping himself as close as possible.

Throwing out the condom, he got up despite his exhaustion to make sure to clean you up a bit, dragging your tired body to pee while he made sure bed was warm and ready for your return.

You emerged back with a lazy smile on your face, almost tackling him when you ran back to bed and let him envelop you in his arms.

More sweet words were exchanged (along with some brave touches in between kisses) as you fell asleep in each other's arms again. When you awoke again, it was with smiles glued to your faces, not leaving you even as you went out to fix yourselves up a quick and domestic breakfast.

He held your waist and buried his face in the crook of your neck as you insisted on cooking, just as he'd pictured uncountable times before. You were so into your own world that you did not hear the entrance of Wonwoo's roommate.

"Huh," you suddenly heard from behind you, causing the two of you to jump.

"So you're the girl taking up all of Wonwoo's attention," Mingyu grinned teasingly, hands on his hips in an accusatory manner.

And that was only the beginning of your welcome into Wonwoo's world.

to read short 2.2k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my svt monthly tier on patreon!

content: smut, afab reader, pda, mingyu third-wheeling, dry humping, an appearance from a few other members, etc.

wc: 531 (teaser); 2.2k (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"It's been three weeks and I'm still not used to being your third wheel. Don't feel particularly happy about it either," Mingyu whined from his lonesome couch whilst staring at the two of you cuddled up in another.

Ever since you began staying with Wonwoo, your affection had been through the roof. Neither of you were too big on PDA, but you didn't really mind it while indoors — especially since that was the only environment in which you could truly be together freely.

It was unfortunate for Mingyu, however, that indoors usually involved his presence.

Mingyu had welcomed you with open arms, insisting that he was more than happy to share the apartment with Wonwoo's girl, as he called you. But within only a few weeks, his demeanor changed slightly. He began to pout and whine any time you'd lounge around together, claiming he was now a third wheel in his own home and complaining about feeling single.

There had also been a few less PG instances the had a tendency to complain about.

It had only happened a few times, but that didn't make it any less mortifying when it did happen.

Today, fortunately, was one of the tamer instances in which you'd simply opted for a night in. Surprisingly to you, the two boys you'd been roomming with were both more homebodies than they seemed. Well, you'd expected it from Wonwoo, but Mingyu had been a surprise.

As per usual, you were cuddled up with Wonwoo as you watched a movie. Meanwhile, your friend Mingyu sat at a slight distance away on his own couch, continuing to stare with a pout.

This only went long enough until your boyfriend decided to whine back at his roommate.

"Gyu, just go on that blind date Kwannie suggested. Stop acting like we killed your dog," he grumbled.

You only giggled along as you listened.

"I like the single life! It's just that I wasn't expecting to have the human manifestation of a romance novel shoving their perfect relationship in my face at all times," he went on to complain.

"Dude, what do you want from me?", Wonwoo complained, annoyed.

The large man simply sighed petulantly before getting up, shooting you yet another annoyed look.

"I'll just go out again, I guess. Please don't do anything disgusting in my absence," he called as he made his way to leave, taking a plate of snacks away from you and Wonwoo in the process despite your lighthearted complaints.

With a few other scoldings from him, he made his way out, likely to go hang out with some of the many friends the man had to choose from. Simultaneously, Wonwoo took advantage of the newfound privacy to somehow cuddle up to you even closer, burying his face in your neck to breathe you in.

"Well, that was fun," you joked.

"Mhm," was all Wonwoo responded, his attention now laying completely on the skin of your neck as he began nosing at it, pressing the occasional kiss.

"I think it's better when he's gone, don't you think?", he mumbled between kisses, hands beginning to roam your torso.

"He's fun," you defended half-heartedly, easily giving in to him.

...

find the continuation on patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

[wileys-russo]

Alessia, "I didn't cheat on you, it was just a dream babe!", mad alessia at training

disloyal dreams II a.russo

"-are you going to be like this all day?" you sighed as you tried to start a conversation with the blonde beside you who shrugged, again refusing to give you any sort of verbal response.

"alessia. the silent treatment, really?" you repeated, eyes burning into the side of her head as she shrugged and you dragged your hands down your face exhaling heavily.

"i thought we were good at communication. we've been together for a year and a half!" you reminded, alessia dead silent as her fingers drummed against the steering wheel and she came to a stop at a red light.

"less, babe will you just tell me what i've done wrong? i can't fix it if i don't know what i did!" you groaned frustrated, the blonde only leaning forward and turning up the stereo louder making you wince.

"fine, be like this then." you grumbled with a shake of your head, crossing your arms and staring out the window, knowing her well enough that the striker when warranted could be incredibly stubborn.

though the problem you were having today is you weren't even sure where this grudge she had against you was coming from. you'd gone to bed and things were all fine and normal, the pair of you ordering in and falling asleep cuddled up together watching a movie in the living room as you often did.

you'd woken up first, slowly shaking the taller girl on top of you until she did too and the two of you had stumbled tiredly to bed. her long limbs entrapping you in her hold the moment your backs hit the mattress, eyes heavy and a few sleepy kisses exchanged, all seemed fine.

but then this morning you'd woken up to an empty bed, frowning right away as alessia was almost never the first one awake between you.

in fact over the time you'd been together even before you'd moved in with her whenever you slept over at alessia's you'd learned to set your alarm a half an hour earlier than either of you had to be up because it took that long to coax the sleepy blonde to actually get up.

your confusion only grew further when a quick search of the house showed it to be empty, your calls out for your girlfriend going unanswered both vocal and on the phone, a sense of worry beginning to settle in.

however right before it really hit its peak you heard keys in the front door, racing down the stairs and breathing out in relief when she stepped inside, body coated in a thin sheen of sweat and hair pulled back into a bun.

you tried to speak to her and draw her into a hug, mumbling ut you'd been worried sick and asking why she hadn't at least left a note or sent a text but all you got was a shrug and a grumble she needed a shower.

ever since then the most your girlfriend had said was maybe three words, the rest of her responses all grunts or hums as at first you thought maybe she hadn't slept well and was just tired.

though then it started to feel a lot more personal and as much as you'd asked and asked and asked, she wouldn't tell you just why she was so seemingly upset with you or what you'd done to earn such a stubborn silence.

pulling into the training grounds you tried again to ask if the two of you could talk, trying to angle that it wasn't healthy to go into training if she was in a bad head space but all that resulted in was a door closed in your face and a rap of her knuckles against your window a moment later, wordlessly telling you to hurry up.

despite the fact alessia could be one of the most sweet, kind and downright lovely human beings you'd ever had the pleasure to know let alone fall in love with, she still had her share of off day but normally she was quite good at hiding them from your teammates.

today however she didn't seem to care in the slightest, making no move to disguise the fact she wasn't talking to you and clearly was in a mood, the tension thick and uncomfortable as you stared at her longingly across the change rooms.

"mate. what did you do to that poor girl?" leah flopped herself down in her own cubby beside you as you sighed, alessia not even sparing you a glance as she laced her boots up and stormed out, ignoring both emily and lotte who tried to stop and speak with her clearly sensing she wasn't okay.

"nothing! well at least not that i can work out? i've been given the silent treatment all morning." you huffed with a roll of your eyes, wrestling to undo the tight knots in your boots and sending kyra a venemous glare across the room who was clearly the culprit.

but sensing maybe today was not the day to have pushed your buttons the australian was quick to shrink beneath your murderous stare, taking off out of the room within seconds flat.

"give it here." leah chuckled, having already undone your other boot as you shoved it at her and sunk down into your seat, stroppy look on your face and mouth turned downward into a sour pout.

"did you have an argument?" "no." "did you not do something you said you would?" "I don't think so?" "did you forget an anniversary? birthday? special date?" "definitely not." "did you..." leah trailed off, clearly trying to think of something to say.

"nah i've got nothing. good luck sunshine!" the blonde shrugged, pinching your cheek and handing you the now untangled boot. "leah!" you groaned, hoping for the older girl to at least have had perhaps some wisdom to offer.

throughout the day your confusion only grew when the stony silence continued, the two of you at least kept mostly separate for the majority of training, having grown embarrassed now by your shut down attempts to talk to alessia.

thankfully bar a few ill timed comments from some of your younger peers who hadn't yet learnt how to read a room everyone backed off the teasing you'd been worried about, most of them just as confused as you by the air of frustration and irritation radiating off the blonde striker.

"fucking hell less!" leah swore, barely able to duck out of the way of a poorly timed but incredibly powerful strike which rocketed past her ear and swooshed into the back of the goal.

you however were not so lucky, admittedly quite out of it most of the session as your brain ticked over and you overthought every little action and interaction you'd had with the blonde in the last twenty four hours.

it was this distraction which caused you to have zoned out on the sidelines, staring off into space and triple checking in your head every significant event and date to try and work out just why your girlfriend was so clearly off with you.

but you were grounded right back into reality when suddenly something hit you very hard and very fast right in the face, the unexpected ball knocking you on your ass as you felt something wet drip down your face and you started to feel a little woozy.

you watched as both your teammates and some of the staff crowded around you, seeing their mouths moving but unable to decipher what was being said due to the obnoxious ringing in your head.

the medics eventually arrived, shooing everyone away to give you some space and a collective slightly disgusted groan sounded as suddenly you lurched forward and emptied the contents of your breakfast onto the grass beside you.

you winced as a bright light was shone right in your eyes, trying to bat away the hand responsible as someone else grabbed your wrists and stopped you.

blinking a few times as finally the light went away and your hearing returned right in time to hear one word before you were helped to your feet and walked off the pitch.

concussion.

you sighed heavily but nodded as you laid down on one of the padded benches in the medic office, the lights dim and one of the trainee's running you through the concussion protocol you knew like the back of your hand.

with a heavy sigh you felt him squeeze your knee in a silent apology before ducking out to grab some paperwork, an incident report needing to be done as you covered your face with your hands and felt your heartbeat thump in your ears.

when you heard the door open again you assumed he'd returned and you might be cleared to leave, but to your surprise when you looked up there was a different person now looking down on you, your bag slung over her shoulder and car keys in hand.

you didn't expect her to say anything and you didn't have it in you for an argument, so with a grunt you pulled yourself into a seated position, her hands quick to steady you and you hated how good it felt to feel her touch even in such a minimal way.

"you cheated on me."

your head snapped up so fast you felt your neck throb and the headache settling behind your eyes pulse as you sat in a state of shock, sure you'd just heard her incorrectly.

"i-what?" you managed to croak out, the blonde fiddling with the strap of the bag as she nodded. "you cheated on me." she repeated and just like earlier you felt a horrendous sense of nausea settle in.

"i think i'm going to be sick." you began to panic, bile rising in your throat as you looked around desperately for a sick bag of some sort as alessia's hands settled on your cheeks and you tensed up.

"you cheated on me last night." she repeated in a tone so soft you almost didn't hear her, incredibly confused and now wondering just how hard you'd hit your head as you blinked.

"alessia. what? i-baby i would never ever chea-" you couldn't even get the words out until the blonde shook her head, one of her hands coming to cover your mouth, an odd look of guilt now present on her face which had you even more confused.

"in my dream, last night. you cheated on me in my dream, that's why i've been so off with you today..." the blonde bit her bottom lip with a wince as you paused, slowly moving her hands off of you as she shifted nervously.

"i didn't cheat on you." "no." "but you thought i did?" "kind of? i know it was a dream, but it felt really real!"

"alessia..." you trailed off in disbelief, the trainee from earlier taking one step inside as the pair of you looked at him and clearly sensing he might have been interrupting he quickly ducked back out of the room with a mumble you were free to go.

"i still think you should say sorry." the blonde seemed to regain her confidence as your jaw dropped and you looked at her in bewilderment. "for what?" you squeaked out, alessia sighing and shaking her head.

"for cheating on me." "i didn't cheat on you? it was just a dream babe!" you threw your hands up with a scoff and hissed, your head throbbing as your eyes squeezed shut.

"okay. well since you have a concussion, i'll forgive you anyway." alessia decided, stepping forward to stand in between your legs and giving you a smile as if she'd just done you a favour.

"you'll forgive me?" "yes. now baby we should really get you home, i've got your concussion plan and you have to come in tomorrow for a re-assessment." alessia nodded, patting your bag and holding our a hand to help you up as you stared at her with narrowed eyes.

"you'll forgive me. for ignoring me all day and making me feel like i've done the wrong thing? like i'm the the crazy one?" you stuttered out still in shock that this was the reason for her cold shoulder and off put behavior.

"hey! you can't use that." alessia snatched your phone out of your hand and slid it into your bag with a tut. "i need it." you held your hand out expectantly and rolled your eyes as your girlfriend had the audacity to laugh.

"for what?" she questioned as you smacked away her attempted helping hands and she frowned.

"because i need to write a note." "a note?" "yes alessia. a note that when my head isn't absolutely throbbing i am going to yell at you and then give you the silent treatment all day!"

"what! baby why? you cheated on me, and i forgave you?" "i cannot control my actions in a dream alessia, and so i didn't cheat on you!" "baby you shouldn't get so worked up, you'll make your headache worse." "dating you is a headache russo." "...so is now a bad time to ask for that apology?" "it was a dream alessia!"

[ylangelegy]

is it casual now? (teaser) 🫀 seungcheol x reader.

★ seungcheol x makeup artist!f!reader. ★ teaser word count: ~8,000 ★ genre/warnings: mdni. 18+ content. situationship/friends with benefits, light angst, use of pet name ('love'). soft dom!seungcheol, making out, biting/marking, protected sex. let me know if i missed anything! ★ footnotes: this has been on my backburner for months. it's admittedly a full-blown story in need of hard editing, and so i'm posting this in hopes of bullying myself into working on the whole thing. should it come down to it, though, i like to think this can stand on its own. enjoy. <3

Seungcheol has been in the industry long enough to know that everybody had vices.

Trainees, rookies, veterans. It didn't matter. There were dangerous, risky vices. Alcohol, drugs, smoking. There was dating, too, of course. Dating fans, dating fellow idols.

Seungcheol didn't do drugs. He smoked socially, but he would rather not. And he drank, sure, but never to an unhealthy amount. Dating, however—

Did it really count when there was only really ever one person he treated like a vice?

You've been in his life since the group debuted. Nine years, give or take. And then, at one point, he just... tried something with you. And it clicked, fell into place, and now you've been sneaking around for the better half of three years. It's the one place Seungcheol feels like he can breathe, can get away. But it's also the biggest secret he's kept.

You're his makeup artist, after all.

When the two of you started off, you both insisted on nothing serious. To 'keep it casual'.

That worked perfectly for Seungcheol. He likes to think it's still working for him, as he raps at the door of your apartment and waits for you to open up. His wristwatch says that it's midnight, but it doesn't matter. He knocks a little louder, growing a touch impatient.

You open the door, and you're greeted with Seungcheol looking reproachful. "Yah," he chides. "Why haven't you been answering my texts?"

When you rub your eyes with the back of your hands and look over your shoulder to glimpse at your wall clock, Seungcheol almost feels apologetic. Almost. “Cheol,” you say exasperatedly, slowly. “It’s the middle of the night.” 

"So you were sleeping then, hmm?" Seungcheol says. The corner of his lips tilt up, just slightly. He leans against the doorframe, taking a brief amount of time to glance you over. As he does, a small wave of tiredness finally washes over him— just how late had he kept himself up working on new music? "I sent you texts hours ago."

"You didn't even read them." He reaches up, tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. He sighs, the sound almost exaggerated. "How cruel of you."

You let out a low hum at Seungcheol’s fingers brushing against your skin. “Mmm, I fell asleep with my phone in my hand,” you admit, the words coming out more like a soft sigh than anything else.

You seem to finally drag yourself out of your sleepy state to give Seungcheol a once-over. He knows it shows all over— the exhaustion in his eyes, his stance. He’s tired, and you can tell. You’ve always been able to tell. 

You step aside a bit and he takes that as his cue. Seungcheol moves past you, a small hum in the back of his throat. He toes off his shoes and shuts the door behind him with a soft click. In spite of himself, the moment he's inside, he reaches for you. 

One arm is loosely slung over your shoulders, pulling you in close. He rests his chin on your shoulder, the tip of his nose against your neck.

"You fell asleep..." he gripes. "Do you know how many texts I sent you? I sent five.” 

“Five”” you repeat as you bear Seungcheol’s weight. Your hand instinctively raises to stroke the base of his hair behind his neck, and he thinks he could melt then and there— your soothing touch, your light tone. “Oh, how ever will you live?”

Seungcheol huffs into the crook of your neck. The feel of your fingers in his hair does wonders to combat the tired, stressed part of himself. Slowly, his shoulders relax, and he sighs, the sound long and deep.

"Don't get snarky with me," he mutters. But there's no bite to it at all, just a quiet sense of contentment in his voice. "You could've at the very least read the messages." He moves, presses a kiss to your neck. "Would've taken ten seconds."

“I was asleep,” you protest, but— whether or not you notice— your head is tilting around a bit to press a lingering kiss on to the side of his face.Seungcheol's stomach flutters. You're sweet like that. Always have been, always will be. He hums under his breath at the kiss, his hand that's on your shoulder moves up to cup your cheek.

“That’s my penance,” you say drowsily. 

"One kiss isn't nearly enough," he tells you. 

He pulls back from your shoulder to look at you, now. The eye contact, the way he regards you, has a more focused weight. He takes a moment to look you over again— hair mussed, face still flushed faintly from sleep. "Two,” he says in a tone that brokers no argument. 

“Greedy,” you mumble, but both of you know it doesn’t matter. 

Not when your free hand finds purchase at his side and you use your fingers in his hair to pull him down so you don't have to stand on your tiptoes. Not when you press your lips together into a kiss that's soft and sweet, almost sleepy.

All it takes is the sound of your voice for Seungcheol to be pulled in— when you tug at his hair, he follows, his chest against yours. He bends down, his own hands coming up to the sides of your face.

He melts against your mouth, his eyes closing in an instant. But it’s done as quickly as it started. You pull away, your face still inches away from Seungcheol’s, as you smilingly mumble to him, “There. Two kisses.” 

His eyes open again once you pull away, his grip on your face tightening just slightly. "Three," he mutters back, and then he leans back in. 

You hum against his mouth, the sound breaking free from the back of your throat. You’re both so tired from your respective work and it shows in the kiss. No heat, no fire. Your tongue swiping over his lip makes Seungcheol hum, quiet and low in his throat. He's usually so used to being the one who takes control, making the first move, but here with you, in the early hours of the morning— there's something else to it.

He pulls you closer against him, his hands moving down to your hips. Against your mouth, he murmurs, "Four," before his tongue slips in, just to get a taste. Just to linger, just to savor, but not take over.

“Cheol,” you huff, though your reprimand is tempered by the way Seungcheol is intent on keeping the kiss going. “You’re— mmph— being greedy—” 

"Five—" he sighs against your mouth. "Let me be greedy a second more."

One of his hands moves to the back of your head, fingers tangling up in your hair. This is what he likes, this is what he always comes to you for. Something that's simple. This, he can deal with. This, he can handle.

It’s never a second more with Seungcheol. He’s always out the door when he can go, when he has to. He’s never been a glutton for time, and so it’s enough for you to sense that something is wrong. 

You break away from him. 

Seungcheol has to resist a whine when you pull back, his eyes fluttering open in a daze. Your hand has moved to his face and you’re looking up at him with a small frown and a quiet query. “Long week?” 

He lets your question hang in the air for a moment, the hand in your hair loosening its grip, fingers just idly combing through the strands.

He glances at your face— the furrow of your brow, the hint of concern in your eyes— and it makes him sigh. He turns his head to press a soft, quick kiss to your palm.

"Long year," he corrects.

You look like you want to say more. Seungcheol almost begs you not to. This— whatever the two of you have— it’s an outlet that won’t break him, won't ruin him, won't tarnish him or the group's name. He just wants— he needs—

You know exactly what he needs, even if he doesn’t always know himself. “How do you want your fifth kiss?” you ask instead of commenting on his obvious fatigue. 

Your question makes Seungcheol's head empty out in an instant.

It takes him a moment to think, to consider. His mind, hazy and tired as it is, struggles to come up with an adequate answer. All he knows is that he's comfortable, that he's tired, that you're here. And that's all he really needs, in the end.

He lets his hand fall from your hair, to the nape of your neck. "... Soft," he murmurs. "Soft and easy."

You’re back up on your tiptoes to give him what he asked for. A sweet, slow press of your lips against his. It’s a kiss that lovers give each other, even though you’re the furthest from that. 

It's easy, easy, easy for him to fall into the kiss just like that, a shudder running down his spine when your tongue doesn't invade him. It's sweet, it's chaste, it's simple. It's exactly the kind of kiss he needs after a week of work.

His hand on your neck moves to your cheek, his thumb brushing over the skin there. He breaks away for a mere second, a fraction of a beat, to catch his own breath, but he kisses you right back after. 

"Six," he whispers desperately. "Again."

This time, you laugh against his mouth— a slightly muffled sound, not any less amused— but you give in, still. When you separate for air again, one of your hands rests on his chest to keep him away. “You have to let me breathe, Cheol,” you huff. 

Seungcheol has to resist groaning outright when your palm on his chest keeps him from coming in for another kiss. You're adorable like this, in the middle of the night, with sleep in your eyes and annoyance in your voice.

He knows he's being needy, taking advantage, but at the same time? It's all he seems to be able to do. Greedy, he hears you call him, and it's true.

"I'll let you breathe when I get my seventh kiss, then," he grumbles.

He can see the annoyance blooming on your expression, but he’s saved by one thing and one thing alone: The fact that you can get pretty greedy sometimes, too, especially when Seungcheol was involved. 

"Fine," you say haughtily, feigning annoyance. "Just one more kiss."

Seungcheol's eyes glimmer with something akin to mischief. His hands move to your face again, his own lips curving up in a smirk. You give him an inch, he wants a mile. It's his style. "One more kiss. That I can work with."

He brushes a thumb over your cheek again, his grip in your hair loosening only to brush some stray strands away from your face. "Only fair that I get to pick the way, then," he says, his tone low.

He's going to make the most of this opportunity, and you're letting him.

His tongue darts out briefly to lick over his bottom lip. "Open your mouth."

When you let out a noncommittal hom and oblige, parting your lips, he knows he’s gone. Seeing the obedience in your face makes Seungcheol's stomach do a little bit of an excited flip. You're like this, this, even when you're tired, when you're barely awake.

It's a little addicting.

"Good," he says softly. It's all the warning you get before he's got his mouth on yours again.

He kisses you— devours you, his tongue parting your lips, sliding into your mouth, taking. The kiss is almost bruising and seems to throw you off balance, but you quickly recover by pressing flush against Seungcheol and holding the sides of his arms. If he were a better person, Seungcheol would let this be the last one. Would let this kiss end and call it a night. 

But then the smallest of sounds escape you. A whimper, a soft noise that only makes all sense fly right out of Seungcheol's head. It's not fair, he thinks, that you still have a hold on him even in the middle of the night.

All it makes him do is pull you closer— press you up against the wall with his entire body, his hands still gripping your face as he kisses you deep. Harder than he usually would, rougher than he normally did.

He swallows the sound, his tongue still in your mouth.

Your fingernails are pressing into his biceps now. Your tongue is sinking into his lower lip; not quite biting, but enough to drag his focus away for a moment. "Seung," you sigh, and it’s like music to his goddamn ears. 

He was Choi or Seungcheol when he was in your makeup chair. Cheol, when it was just the two of you. But Seung was something different entirely. 

A small moan, low and quiet, gets caught in Seungcheol's throat when you bite into his lip, when you whine out his name like that. He knows what it means when you call him like that— knows what he's in for.

He relishes in it. In moments like these when he gets to be like this. When he doesn't have to be responsible, when he doesn't have to be a leader. He gets to be just Seung.

There isn't a single part of his body that's not on fire right now, not when he's got you pinned against the wall, not when you're all satin and soft against him. His grip on your face tightens, and now his lips are no longer on your mouth, but on your jaw, moving down to your neck, your throat.

A quiet, needy little ah falls out your lips when he nips at that spot on your pulse point, and there, there is exactly when he knows that he's got you exactly where he wants you. Pinned by his body, shaking and shivering like he's touching you for the first time.

If he was feeling a little less riled up, a little less needy, he'd keep up the teasing. But he can't, not now. His hands move from your face to your hips, moving under the satin of your pajamas. It's not enough, never enough.

Every sound that leaves your mouth, every little please, just, already sets a fire in his brain. Every part of his mind turns to static, white noise, as he keeps his lips on your throat, your neck, biting and nipping at your skin.

“Seung,” you hiss, your hands flying to his shoulders as you press your back on to the entryway wall, willing yourself not to crumple. “I’m going to get a noise complaint again—”

“I'll pay the fine,” he murmurs against your skin, his lips against your collarbone now, his hands still on your hips. His brain is starting to grow fuzzy, his thoughts less coherent, but this was the goal.

To get you like this. Soft and shaking and desperate. To make you his for the night, for just a little while. To hold some sort of control over something in his life.

“You can't just keep paying for— ah— the fines,” you’re babbling. “They're going— t-to kick me— Seung, fuck!"

Whatever you’re trying to say dies out when Seungcheol nips at your warm skin. The rational part of him, somewhere deep, deep inside, knows that you're right. He can't keep paying your fines for complaints of loud music and loud sex.

The part of him that's currently working on painting a bruise on your collarbone doesn't seem to care all that much.

"I'll pay," he repeats, between leaving a few more marks on your skin for good measure. "As many times as I have to—"

“Jesus Christ,” you cuss, your chest heaving as Seungcheol’s hand moves higher and higher up your shirt. “My neighbors are so fucking sick of me, and it’s all your fault.”

“My fault?” Even through the haze in his head, Seungcheol can't help the low scoff that he lets out. He wants to say that he couldn't care less about your neighbors— wants to say that your pretty mouth makes up for the noise, but something else catches his attention. The brush of his fingers on bare skin. 

His eyes go wide, his brain suddenly clearing.

"You're not wearing anything underneath your pajamas," he deadpans, his voice coming out in a low drawl.

Of course, that adds up. You hadn’t been expecting Seungcheol, after all, so he can’t blame you for foregoing the underclothes. Still, it only stokes the growing flame in the base of his stomach. Especially when you move your head back against the wall so you’re looking right up at Seungcheol, the ghost of a smirk on your face. 

“Wanna check for yourself?” you taunt. 

A low groan falls out of Seungcheol's mouth as soon as you ask that. Like clockwork, his hands go to the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric up slightly. Just a little bit, just to see if you're really not wearing anything beneath.

"You always like to tease," he says, his voice low. That hint of a smirk on your face is only serving to drive him that much crazier. "Go on, then. Show me, since you want to act all cocky."

You give him half an eye roll that’s more affectionate than anything else before reaching over to the back of your pajama collar. You pull the top over your head in one deft, swift movement. Seungcheol's eyes go wide for just a moment, taking in the sight of you, undressed, in front of him. It never stops shocking him, never stops making his heart thump a little harder, his breath coming out a little more labored.

“Happy?” you half-joke, your voice low. 

He looks at you, up and down, before his eyes go back to your face. His hands move from your hips to your waist, fingers tracing over the sides of your chest as he shakes his head.

"Not yet," he says. "But I will be."

His hands keep tracing over your skin, his touch light— almost feathery, as he keeps his eyes fixed on your face. There's something about seeing you so exposed like this that's driving him absolutely insane, something about you being entirely at his mercy that's making his eyes grow dark.

He leans in, bringing his lips just past your ear. "Turn around," he murmurs, almost like a command.

He sees how you swallow hard, how you take in the familiar darkness in Seungcheol’s gaze. You know him, have known him for years, and that comes with trust. Unflinchingly, you twist around in his arms to press your chest against the wall. 

He has you practically trapped, all against his chest and the wall. His eyes look at you up and down, taking in your bare shoulders and back, the way you've submitted to him so perfectly.

His hands go to your hips again, and his eyes look over your back, following the line of your bare spine. "What do you say we find a use for this wall besides me just pushing you up against it," he murmurs. "Hm?"

“Yes, please,” you whimper, and as soon as you agree, Seungcheol's hands tighten on your hips, his grip almost bruising as he pulls you a little closer to him. You're not going anywhere, not when he's got you like this.

He leans in, his body practically pressing up against your back, his chest against your skin. He bites down on your shoulder, pulling a strangled whine out from somewhere deep in your throat. "You look so goddamn pretty like this, love," he murmurs against your skin.

His hands move from your hips to your chest, tracing the skin there before he brings them up to your throat. He presses his fingers against your pulse point, feeling the thump thump thump of your heartbeat.

He can feel your heart thrumming against his hand, can practically hear you shaking. It's driving him absolutely insane— you, underneath him, trembling for him. The knowledge that he's got you like this, the fact that you're letting him take control, letting him do whatever he wants.

He moves his mouth to that spot on your neck again, the skin that's so sensitive that it makes you whimper and shiver. He always finds it so easy to tease those sounds out of you, and always relishes in doing it.

His hands stay at your neck, his fingers still pressed against your pulse point. This had always been one of Seungcheol's little habits— a single finger on your pulse point, as if he liked seeing which actions would make your heart rate spike, which words would have it hammering.

Seungcheol presses his lips on your skin again. "You're so loud."

He marvels at the way you ball your hands into fists, the way you shake all over with poorly concealed want and need as he keeps nipping and marking. "‘M not," you gasp, lurching forward against the wall. "‘M perfectly— hng!"

Everything is working in his favor.

You're shaking, and your heart is racing, and every noise you make is just more fodder for him. God, he loves it. Loves being the one to make you absolutely tremble and shiver like this. Loves the fact that he's the only one to make you feel like this.

"You're mine," he says again, bringing his mouth closer to your ear. He bites the shell of it, hard, before letting out a low hum.

This is his favorite place in the entire world— right against your back, feeling your body heat against his chest, his tongue running over your skin. He loves how reactive you are to him, how sensitive you are, how your body just melts under his touch.

"Say it," he mutters against your skin. "Who's in control?"

There it is. The million won question.

The whole reason you started these rendezvouses in the first place. He had been spinning out of control, and you had been lonely, and you clicked into place like magnets. 

You give in, like you always do. The words are a soft whimper, almost a shout in your otherwise empty apartment. "You. You're in control, Seung."

That's all he wants to hear.

He digs his fingers into your jaw and wrenches your head so it's turned to look at him, his lips inches from yours. Even if there's a little pain, nothing in him is stopping. "Good," he mutters, his breath hot against your lips. "Good girl."

The kiss that follows is absolutely messy, the kind of kiss where it's just tongue and teeth and raw need. It's worlds different from the soft and easy kisses that Seungcheol asked for earlier, when he first came in complaining about five unanswered texts.

"Seung," you groan as you pull away for air. "Please—" 

When you moan his name, it's like something snaps.

He growls low, his fingers slipping into the waistband of your shorts, gripping the fabric hard enough that there's a very real chance of them ripping. "Please what?" he mumbles against your neck. "You need to tell me what you need, love. Use your words."

"I hate you," you whine, and Seungcheol nearly smiles. He knows you’re not fond of begging, but he needs to hear it from you. At least, he wants to. 

"You know what I—" you’re saying, but dammit, his control is already razor thin as is. He rips off the last fabric of clothing on you until you’re completely bare, pressed entirely up between the wall and him. 

Somehow, your mind still has some shrivel of coherence to complain, "I liked this set, asshole!"

He grins against your skin at your words, chuckling at your whine, at the way you're just reacting to him. You can act annoyed, you can act like you don't need him, but he knows. "I'll buy you a new one," he hums, finally letting go of your shorts and letting them fall to the floor in tatters. "One for me to rip to shreds all over again."

That thought alone makes his blood sing.

It takes you a great effort to turn around, but somehow you manage. Seungcheol is still fully clothed and so your bare chest presses against the front of his shirt. The sight of you, naked, his hands at your hips, pressed right up against him, against his chest like this— he's gone.

And then you’re asking him, low and sweet as he has you caged in, "Where are you going to fuck me tonight, Seung?"

He can't even manage a word for a moment, his hands holding you so tight that he's definitely going to leave marks on your skin, his eyes fixed on your face.

He swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry at the question. "You want me to say it out loud, hm?"

You go to steal the upper hand for a minute or so, and you do it so effectively. Your hand rises almost lazily to his neck, your finger instinctively finding his pulse point. He feels his heart rate speed up as he watches, just watches, you do it. You stand on your tiptoes to raise your lips directly to his ear. 

All he can feel is the thunder of his heart racing against your hand. You seem to notice it, too, if the smile on your face is any indication. 

"How about you just show me instead?" you say, and he’s convinced he’ll pass out then and there. 

"You're a brat," he mutters through gritted teeth, his hand moving up from your hips and up your spine. "A brat who needs to be taught a lesson."

He takes a shuddering breath, almost completely lost in your little game, before he snaps back to himself. Seungcheol's hand leaves your hip and goes to your hand, gripping your wrist hard. "On the sofa," he says, and it’s nothing short of a command. 

He practically drags you on to the piece of furniture, watching intently as you fall back with a small oomph. Seungcheol stands on the edge of the couch as you prop yourself up by the elbows to watch him right back. 

The sight of you underneath him— your hair splayed against the cushions, your eyes half-lidded and fixed on him? It's absolutely perfect. It's the kind of thing that he wants to keep in his mind forever, the sight he wants to always be able to remember.

He lets out a noise under his breath as he undoes the button of his jeans, the sound of the zipper going down obscenely loud in the quiet room. "Gorgeous,” he breathes. 

He gets his jeans undone and kicked off, his shirt following them not long after, and then he's on top of you, caging you in, his hands either side of your head, staring down at you.

The look in his eyes isn't something he really gets to show often— that raw need, that want, how desperate he is for you. He wants you, God, he wants you so badly, and you're letting him have you.

He dips his head to your neck, his lips against your skin, his breath hot against your pulse point, still absolutely obsessed with that spot. His hands find your wrists, pinning them back against the couch, while his knee finds its way between your thighs, pressing up against you.

You arch and squirm underneath him, visibly distressed with the facsimile of friction that you’re getting from his knee. “Seung,” you pant, grinding your dripping core against his knee. It sends a jolt of electricity through him. “Please— don’t wanna wait any more—”

“Where’s all that snark now, hm?” he teases, his teeth running over the skin on your neck. But he’s not any better off, his own self-control slipping through his very fingers as his hips grind down against you desperately. 

"Been driving me insane, love," he whispers, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the line of your neck. "Been dreaming about this for days. Missing you—” 

A low keen escapes you, and he can only echo it as you tug at the last piece of material separating you. “Can we get this off already, please?” you huff as you hook your fingers at the waistband of his boxer shorts. 

He groans against your skin, his teeth finally letting go when he lifts his head to look down at you, the expression on his face looking like he's fighting for control. "God, yes," he groans, lifting his hips just enough for you to tug them off him.

He kicks them off once you’ve yanked them down, and his hand— which has instinctively gravitated to your pulse point— feels how the beat absolutely skyrockets. One of your arms goes around his shoulder and the other, surprisingly, clutches his jaw.

You’re looking right at him as you say, "Fast and hard, Seung."

"Yeah?" he says, just the slightest hint of a surprise in his voice. "You want me to be rough with you, love?"

Seungcheol was usually a sweet lover. He liked taking his time, liked being gentle and responsible even in bed.

But there were particularly rough weeks, terrible days, where he just needed a means to an end. Where the sex was an outlet, where the best thing you could be for him was his. 

He waits for your permission, because he still always remembers to ask no matter how far deep you’re in. The agreement comes in the form of the best three words. 

"Ruin me, Seung."

You know him too well. You know how he works, you know how he thinks, and you know him better than anyone.

He groans in response to your words, his head dipping down to drag his teeth gently over your collarbone. He's trying to hang on to his control, he is, but it's a losing effort.

"I will, love." His breath is hot against your skin, his hands finding your hips. "Just give me a minute—"

He shifts, just for a moment, to find the condom in his jean pocket. He goes through the motions until he's back on top of you again, one hand coming up to grip your hip again, the other coming up to rest against your throat. He looks down at you, his eyes almost glowing. 

"You trust me?" he mutters. His hand at your hip tightens; his hand at your throat barely clenches around your pulse point, his eyes never leaving yours.

You can feel it, see it. The way the little threads are beginning to unravel and fray. The way this was no longer Seungcheol of SEVENTEEN; not the leader, not the idol. This was something different entirely, someone else completely.

"I do," you whisper back, your eyes so full of adoration for him that he has to bite back the urge to scream. "I trust you, Seungcheol."

His full name is what really does it for him, because then he's pushing in, and you’re gasping, whimpering, trying to adjust around him and the fact that you’re practically clenching him on the get-go. Seungcheol eases in, nice and slow, because you’re too tightly coiled for him to do more than carefully bottom out. You’re both heaving, your breaths coming out as gasps; your own breaths are sharp, harsh, because Seungcheol is still choking you a little. 

His head dips down to your shoulder because he needs something to hold on to, anything, while his mind spins. His head is dizzy feeling you like this, feeling you around him so tightly. He's trembling, his thighs shaking, but he's holding himself back as long as he can.

When Seungcheol gets as far in as he can possibly get, you let out twin groans. He’s completely sheathed inside of you and you’re fluttering around him in a way that’s dangerous. 

“Y’can move, Seung,” you reassure him after a moment, the words coming out strained with desire. “As fast and hard as you want.” 

You sound strangled, just like he feels, and it's taking him a mammoth amount of control to hold himself back. He groans against your shoulder at the sound of your voice, the words you say. He wants to move, to thrust, but he's trying to have some semblance of composure. 

"Love," he says, his voice wrecked. "I—"

His voice breaks. It breaks, because there is only so much he can take, and he's beyond that point now. There's a tremor in his thighs, his hands clenching in the cushion below you.

You drag him right back down, with the sound that you let out that’s halfway a whine and a sigh. One of your hands goes to rest in the space between Seungcheol’s shoulder blades, as if to steady the two of you. 

Your voice is surprisingly firm when you speak. "Let go," you command. And then, softer, "I need you."

Your words, your voice— it's in complete conflict with the situation you're currently in. And yet, it works. He lets out a sound, one that's somewhere between a growl and a whimper, his breath hot against your skin. And then he's moving and he's holding nothing back.

He's hard, brutal, and he's taking. His teeth on your shoulder; his breath against your neck; his nails digging into you.

It's a relentless, dizzying pace. Seungcheol bullies into your weeping cunt, fast and hard, and it draws out the most obscene sounds from you. Gasps, whines, an occasional scream when he hits a particularly sensitive spot. What has him seeing stars is the fact that you can't seem to settle on a name to moan. "Seung— Seungcheol— Cheol—"

Yes, you're saying, yes.

Seungcheol loses himself, utterly and completely, in you. You're on the edge, he can hear it; he can feel it, and God, he wants to hear you say his name. Every single one of them. 

It almost sounds like a mantra, your voice, as he takes and takes and takes, his breathing harsh, ragged.

You go through all of the names you have for him, breathless and wrecked, until you can't even say anything because his hips are snapping into you with a ferocity that's rare but not unwelcome. Your pornographic moans reverberate in your otherwise empty apartment, and Seungcheol thinks he might go insane. 

"'M close," you choke out. "Cheollie, baby, I'm— ah, fuck— Seung—"

His breath catches at your words, his eyes closing for a moment as he groans. You, you, in all your perfect, glorious, undone state. It’s a sight he wishes he could capture, freeze in time.

He lets out a whimper, his words almost slurred when he responds. "Love— I—"

He's never been this rough, never this intense. You're the only one, the only person he's ever let himself go like this with. The only person who he's ever let see everything, take everything.

He's on the edge, he's there, he's—

"C'mon," he whines, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand clenching hard around your hip. "With me, love, please."

It's a miracle that you can even nod, can even find your voice as Seungcheol keeps on going with his erratic, stuttering thrusts. "With you," you gasp. 

He snaps into you, then, and you arch up with a scream of his name. There’s the familiar white-hot flash of pleasure; the impossibly tight clench of your walls around him.

He stays buried in you for several long moments, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his heart pounding so hard he can feel it in his ears. He has never felt so utterly spent in his entire life, never been so completely, utterly drained of energy. He's weak against you. He’s weak because of you. 

"God," he finally manages to mutter.

He lifts his head, just enough to be able to look at you, but he can't even muster a grin. He's spent and he knows you know that.

His hand comes up slightly, to brush the hair off of your forehead. "I think..." he says, his voice thick and hoarse, "I think I ruined you, love."

You let out a breathless laugh, one that you have to push out of your heaving chest. "You—" you try to say, but the words don't form, not at first. You take a few moments to take in some air, to gulp past the lump in your throat. "You're a fool."

His lips twitch into a tired but genuine smile at the sound of your laugh. It’s a soft sound that he's always thought sounds beautiful, especially coming from you.

A hoarse, broken laugh of his own escapes; his hand coming up to rest at your jawline, his thumb gently tracing over the warm skin there. He's still catching his breath, but he's slowly gathering himself.

"Am I a fool?" he asks quietly, leaning his forehead against yours. "What does that make you, then?"

You’re a fool, too, he thinks to himself. For letting me have this. 

Instead of answering him, you press a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. It’s the only answer he’s going to get from you for now, it seems. 

He lets out a soft huff, moving his head back just slightly, his eyes closing. "You're beautiful, you know that?" he says quietly, his voice still rough with fatigue.

"Every time," you respond. Your own voice is strained, almost tired, but there's a hint of amused exasperation. "You say that every time, Cheol."

His eyes opened once again to look at you.

"Because it's true," he says simply, his voice soft and sincere, the hand resting at your jaw moving to brush your hair back from your face. "It's always true, love."

He lets out a soft sigh, his eyes tracing over your face, taking in every inch of you. His eyes pause at your lips for a moment, his tongue gently wetting his own, his gaze finally moving back up to meet your eyes.

You thread your shaking fingers through the back of his hair and answer his unspoken question. "Kiss me soft and easy, Cheol," you whisper.

The moment the words leave your mouth, he's in action.

He leans forward without a second thought, the hand not buried in your hair going to rest on your hip, his lips meeting yours in a soft, gentle kiss.

There's no heat in it, no want or need. Just a soft press of his lips against yours, gentle and slow. 

It's languid and unhurried. Like there's nowhere either of you have to be after this. For a moment, you can pretend that this is normal— that Seungcheol will not have to leave, and that you’ll not have to change into new pajamas because he'd broken yours, and that you can be... well, something, anything aside from what you are now.

But it's wishful thinking, you both know, so all Seungcheol can do is kiss you. He lets out a soft sound, almost a sigh, as his tongue slides into your mouth, his hand on your hip tightening slightly. His other hand is in your hair still, his fingers gently tracing over your scalp, his body almost melting against yours.

He will have to leave. He always does. But for now, he's here, with you, and you feel perfect, and—

Five minutes, he bargains. Five more minutes.

And then things end, not really by your own accord.

The sharp, shrill sound of Seungcheol's phone ringing breaks through your haze. You pull away, a bit jolted at the foreign sound— at something other than your words, your breathing, reverberating in the room. It takes you a beat too long to realize someone is calling him— his phone in his discarded jeans— in the godawful middle of the night. 

He lets out a loud groan, the sound tired and drawn out, and he can't help but rest his forehead against your shoulder once again, letting out a resigned sigh.

"God, save me," he mutters, his voice rough. "What time is it?"

You chuckle lightly. "Go on," you urge softly, not because you want to but because you have to. "Answer."

Seungcheol lets out another loud, drawn out sigh, his shoulders slumping in obvious defeat. He reluctantly lifts his head from your shoulder with a grumble, but he can't quite stop himself from pressing a kiss to your cheek just before he shifts up and off of the couch.

Once he’s reached down to grab his phone from where it's stuffed in the pocket of his jeans, he answers without looking at the caller ID. "Yeah?"

"Hyung!"

It's Soonyoung— of course it's Soonyoung— calling.

"Are you still at the company?" the younger member asks. "I think I forgot my headset in one of the practice rooms, and Minghao said you didn't go home with them."

"It's midnight, Soonyoung." 

You shit over on the couch, careful not to make any sound. Not to give Soonyoung any suspicion that Seungcheol might be somewhere where he shouldn't be. You press a small, reassuring kiss to Seungcheol's hip as Soonyoung goes on to whine, "Yeah, yeah, I know. But it's the expensive headset, hyung. If you're still there, could you check? Please?"

Seungcheol lets out a huff— a mixture of resigned affection and irritation— at the feeling of your lips against his skin. He can feel the exhaustion deep within his bones now, and all he wants to do is go back to snuggling into you for the night.

But he can't say no to Soonyoung, especially not at this time of night.

"Fine," he grumbles, letting out a huff. "Which practice room?"

You can hear the moment Soonyoung practically brightens with triumph.

"Third floor!" he says happily, and you bury your face into Seungcheol's side to keep yourself from laughing. "You're the best, hyung! I'll buy you a meal tomorrow for the trouble!"

He reaches down with the hand not holding his phone, pressing his palm to the top of your head, pushing lightly down. A warning of don't laugh. "Just be thankful I'm your hyung, kid," Seungcheol grouses.

Soonyoung ends the call soon enough, saying some things about sending Seungcheol a photo of his headset so he knows exactly which one is missing. When it's back to just the two of you again, you tilt your head up to look at Seungcheol. 

"You're really going back for it tonight?" you ask, even though you already know the answer. 

The corner of his lip twitches into a half smile at the way you look up at him. His eyes takein the sight of you— his hand on the back of your head, his fingers gently twisting strands of your hair.

"Of course I am," he sighs. "I can't say no to him, love."

You shift upward so you can sit side by side with Seungcheol. Both of you have yet to put on any clothes, but you’ve at least gathered your bearings enough to form coherent words now.

"You can't say 'no' to any of them," you tease as you press a gentle kiss to his cheek. There's an almost blinding affection in your tone as you say, "You and your goddamn boys."

Seungcheol reaches out, wrapping an arm around your waist to tug you closer to him. Briefly, he presses his lips against your hair. His eyes are almost tender as he speaks.

"They're my boys," he says, his voice soft.

You let the words hang there for just a moment. It’s an admission, one that both of you have known for the longest time, but it's also a reminder. It’s the reason why you and Seungcheol can never be more than this—because he has his boys, and he would never do anything to jeopardize them.

You press your face against the column of his neck for just one more precious moment. You’ve never been selfish about Seungcheol, but there were nights when you thought about it. Just… thought about it.

The thought never wins.

"Let’s clean up, get dressed," you whisper into his skin. "So you can head to the company sooner."

He lets out a soft, almost painful exhale. He knows what you're thinking, what you're feeling; he's thought about it himself, as well. He hates having to leave you, hates having to say that he has to leave you. But his boys are his boys, and one day all this will be over, and then...

He can't think about it right now, though.

Instead, he nods, pressing a light kiss to your temple. "Yeah."

It takes about ten minutes or so for you both to gather everything together. Seungcheol still looks tired, though for different reasons now. He’s essentially traded one exhaustion for another.

As he puts on the shoes he left in your entryway, you lean against your doorway with your arms crossed over your chest. "I’ll be holding you accountable for my pajama set," you warn him. "And for tomorrow’s noise complaint."

"Yeah, yeah," he huffs, taking a step toward you. "Don't worry, I haven't forgotten."

His face softens as he reaches you, his hands coming up to grab your elbows, gently pulling you closer to him. "Sorry," he says. "Again."

 "You’re not sorry, " you sigh pointedly, more out of spite than anything. It’s the truth—he’s not really that apologetic about losing control every now and then, about your neighbors knowing you’re being pulled close every so often.

When you bury your face into his chest, he lets out a low, gruff chuckle, his chin resting gently against the top of your head. His arms wrap around you, holding you tightly against him, just like every single time before.

"You’re right," he murmurs. A quiet, affectionate admission. “Not sorry. Not even a little.”

He holds you there against him, his eyes fluttering shut as he allows himself just a few more moments before he has to leave. You both stay there, allowing yourselves that moment, until the tension in Seungcheol’s shoulders fades and your annoyance at your torn pajamas ebbs. It could’ve been five minutes, maybe less, but then Seungcheol’s phone pings with a text—surely Soonyoung asking if he’s found his headset.

You’re the one who takes the step back, putting some distance between you. "Drive safe," you tell Seungcheol. "Text me when you’re there."

Resigned. That’s the only way to describe the smile that tugs at his lips. "Yeah," he says. "I will."

True to his word, Seungcheol does indeed send you a text about an hour or so after he'd arrived at the company, informing you that he was there and had found Soonyoung’s headset.

He's still exhausted, and all he wants is to be back. Back inside of you, back with you. But he can't do any of that. At least, not right now. Not at this point.

I miss you already, is the only other thing he adds to his text.

Your text comes in only moments later, like you had been waiting by your phone. 

you're a fool. head home. take care.

A soft sigh escapes him the moment he reads your text, his eyes flickering over the words you'd typed, the harshness of it. It's another layer of protection for the both of you, but it's still not easy to read.

He's about to respond with something snarky, some light-hearted joke to tease you a bit, but he stops himself at the last moment. He knows that you're right.

He needs to head home. He needs to take care.

And he’s an absolute goddamn fool, in more ways than one. 

[dozen-reasons-in-this-gun]

To Pimp a Butterfly is the best album ever fucking created there is literally no other competition