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hiddenreamers · 1 month ago

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I was in your music video - f1 drivers x singer!reader

SUMMARY: They say that if a poet loves you, they will write you into immortality. But if you date a musician, they might write you into the Billboard 100. Which is exactly what happens to your driver boyfriend.

Featuring: Lewis Hamilton, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Carlos Sainz Jr, Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, George Russell

Note: Yes, two songs are sung by male artists. Yes, I'm going to ignore that fact and you should, too.

Lewis Hamilton

He's been in the room maybe five times. The space always felt strangely sacred to him - this is where you write, compose and practice songs with your band; this is where the magic, so to speak, happens. Walls are absolutely covered with tour posters, polaroids and printed-out articles. There's a large mirror that seems to be a message board considering all the sticky notes and words written with a marker. The only somewhat de-cluttered space is surrounding the setup. It's an unspoken testament to being a musician in a band.

There's a certain tension inside the driver. You've never asked him to listen to a song before it's finished. Sure, he has listened through your albums before they were officially released but it was always just that - a recording, not a live version. So what's different this time? Why is it vital he hears this song early?

Walking through the room, Lewis has to carefully watch where he's going. He doesn't want to accidentally break something by stepping on a cable or kicking a box with unknown contents. Inside a garage, he knows what not to touch but a recording studio and instruments are pretty much an unknown world to him.

Lewis is standing around a tad awkwardly, hands in pockets, when the bassist pushes a big black box closer to the driver.

"Have a seat." The musician points to the chest.

Lewis frowns. "On the box?" he asks, unsure. "Is that okay?"

"It's the Lucky Chest, Hamilton," the bassist announces. The other band members snicker at the title. "You have to sit on it."

"What's lucky about it?" Lewis inquires. More than the seating choice, he's interested in the reason for laughter.

"The first time we played at a big festival," the guitarist begins, her story slightly interrupted by her tuning the guitar, "we were sitting on it and listening to Green Day's stage, wondering 'how the fuck are we supposed to play after them?'."

"We were doing like a punk-rock tribute thing," adds the drummer. He's adjusting his seat and judging by the constant up-and-down movement, he can't make up his mind. The process is finally over when he reaches to tap the high-hat and nods to himself, content.

"After we finished our set," you take over retelling the story, "Billy Joe Armstrong came up to us and said we did great."

"So now it's the Lucky Chest," concludes the bassist.

Perhaps it's another testament to being a musician in a band when multiple people together tell one story without cutting details or creating chaos. A true harmony, though a joke a little on the nose.

"Well, I'm honoured," Lewis says. An airy giggle escapes him as he's still thinking about how easily teamwork comes to you and your band.

"You should be." The guitarist points her finger at him in a joking but accusatory way. Then she looks over her shoulder. "Whenever you're ready, drummer boy."

Music fills the room and Lewis is instantly captivated by you. He noticed it the first time he saw you on stage, how something inside you changes the moment you hear the instruments playing. Intensity, fire - passion in its most primal form. But this time around, the look in your eyes is different. You're no longer looking at the audience but him specifically; instead of singing a song, you seem to be telling him something.

So he listens.

I'm a desert, you're an ocean It's your motion that I need Without you I am broken, left to thirst out in the heat

And how strange he suddenly feels: all of the sentiments he already knows but now that you've put them into words for the whole world to hear, he can't help but find some revelation in them. For a moment, there's only the two of you and your confession of desire. Every word resonates with him and Lewis feels like he could say all of those things about you, too.

The song is far from over but he has already decided - he will listen to it before every race.

Lando Norris

Nothing seemed different about that day.

Lando is streaming while you're still at the studio. In an hour or so, you will come back, he will end the stream and the two of you will sit down to eat something. You will talk about your day, he will say something silly and both of you will laugh. Just like you always did.

To his credit, Lando couldn't have known about the song because you never told him. Some part of you thought it would be a bit dramatic to announce that you've written a song about him but can't play it yet because it's not finished. It would spoil the fun, wouldn't it? Therefore, you decided to tell Lando only after he listened to the final product. Perhaps you also wanted to seem a lot more nonchalant about the whole thing, planning on giving him just an off-hand comment of "oh, by the way, this one's about you". Life, however, rarely turns out the way we plan and that's exactly what happened that night.

If it was just one or two people calling Lando "honeybee" on the stream, he probably wouldn't even notice. But even he will pay attention when the comments are going on hundreds if not thousands.

He can't help but grow flustered at the pet name born out of his visceral fear of insects.

"Who told you that?!" he yells in a comically angry tone, a poor attempt at hiding embarrassment.

The comments come flooding again, explaining the situation only in variations of your name and the title Espresso. And like a detective following a crime, Lando immediately searches the internet.

"I feel lied to," he speaks up. "She didn't tell me she has a new song coming out. Why am I the last one to know? When I literally live with her? This is so unfair, I'm obviously the biggest fan, I should know first!"

Lando plays the music video. From the first line of "he's thinking about me every night", his bashfulness only gets worse. What starts as an excited smile, grows into a flustered, giggly mess. Although his pride is on the line, he can't deny any of the claims you make in the song. Yes, he couldn't sleep one night thinking about you and texted you about that. Yes, he does call you often even though he hates making phone calls. And yes, Lando Norris is, in fact, wrapped around your finger. What a horse is everyone can see and similarly, everyone can see and define who Lando is when it comes to his girlfriend:

"Simp?" he reads one of the comments. "Look, maybe I am but at the end of the day I'm dating her and you're not so who's the real loser here?"

Lando can only laugh his heart out when the chat gets flooded with identical comments: You.

"Okay, I admit. I'm down bad for my girlfriend and I'm proud of that."

Tomorrow's headlines are bound to be interesting...

Oscar Piastri

Although Oscar has seen you in musicals countless times, this situation feels a lot weirder and more uncomfortable. When he comes to watch your show, he's in the audience and you're on the stage. Now you're sitting side by side on the couch in your shared apartment, about to see your first movie. You're both the audience and the creator, which leaves you unsure how to act.

Unfortunately, your discomfort only grows. Oscar seems to be enjoying the movie but joy is not granted to you on this day. With each minute, you know your big part is coming. Oh God, what is he going to think?

Then, you suddenly pause the film. Oscar looks at you confused.

"There's something you need to know before you watch this scene and listen to the song," you say before he can ask you about your strange actions.

Oscar's frown only deepens. "You're making it sound really serious."

"Because it is. The thing is... " you hang your voice, unsure how to put words together. How do you tell someone this without making things awkward? "This is more embarrassing than I thought it would be but the song you're about to hear, I wrote it thinking about you."

He's trying to smile but the shadow of embarrassment on his face doesn't go unnoticed. You can only hope it's good kind of nervous.

The movie is resumed. As your discomfort is barely tolerable, you're looking away from the TV, fidgeting ever-so-slightly. Once or twice, you glance at Oscar, trying to see his reaction. The problem is, he's sitting unbelievably still. True, Oscar Piastri tends to be on the calmer side but right now it feels off. As if lost deep in thought, he appears to be diligently contemplating the scene in the movie; picking apart the words that came to your mind while thinking about him.

When the song comes to an end, you pause the film once more. A tense silence falls between you and Oscar, both longing to say something and yet neither willing to.

"So?" you begin hesitantly. "What do you think?"

Oscar shifts awkwardly. "Erm... I don't really know what to say."

A nervous giggle escapes your lips. "It's really sappy, I know." You try to downplay the situation, fearing that his reaction is born out of something negative. Does he think you're clingy? Obsessive? Too dramatic to handle?

"It's not that," he quickly denies. "Well, okay, it is kind of sappy but it's good sappy?" Oscar's tone raises slightly, revealing that he's unsure whether it's the right choice of words.

"Good sappy?" you repeat.

It feels as though woe has weaved a nest inside your viscera. "Good sappy" sounds like a lovely, diplomatic euphemism used not to hurt someone's feelings.

"Yeah, it's just..." Oscar doesn't finish his sentence. He runs his hand through his hair, then rubs the back of his neck nervously. Finally, he looks at you but not in a way you're familiar with. There's something ethereal in his gaze, a glint of inexplicable emotion that would escape a less observant eye. "It's really beautiful," he says. "The fact that you feel this way about me?" You could swear there are tears in his eyes as he lets out a flustered giggle. "I can die happy now."

Carlos Sainz

As old tradition entails, the Thursdays before a race weekend are meant for golfing. And who is Carlos Sainz to not give in to the custom?

He's sitting in his car, impatiently ploughing through the traffic of the city centre. Why are people out and about at this time, anyway? Shouldn't they be at work? Wanting to get his mind off of the fact that he's going to be quite late to the game, Carlos turns on the radio. The man is mindlessly skipping through the stations until something catches his attention - the announcer introduces you as today's guest.

"Hello again, pretty girl," Carlos says to himself. A small smile enters his face.

"First of all, I'd like to thank you," the radio host begins. "Unfinished Business is just the album I've been waiting for this year. And not only me! Have you seen Billboard 100 lately?"

Your flustered giggle is just as adorable as always. "Yesterday evening, I think?"

The broadcaster sighs dramatically. "Then you have ancient news. I have the site pulled up now and check it every few minutes. Let me tell you, Unfinished Business has climbed twenty spots since morning."

"Oh, shoot."

"Indeed." The announcer laughs and Carlos does with him. It's such a familiar theme for the driver - you being more humble than you really should be, surprised by the success you entirely deserve.

"Now, to address the elephant in the room or rather on the music charts. Over and Over Again is like a love letter all of us have written but never sent. Tell me all about it!"

"I guess 'love letter' is a pretty good description," you explain. Curious, Carlos turns up the volume. "For some time, I was trying to put my thoughts together and tell someone how I felt but never could quite do it. I can write good songs but in real life, I'm pretty terrible at speaking my mind and talking about feelings. I just don't want people to misunderstand, you know?"

"What are you saying, hermosa?" Carlos asks aloud, although there's no one to answer him.

"At least you can write a song about it! We regular folk are stuck with memes and playlists."

"Thank God, I can!" You laugh and, as embarrassing as it may sound, Carlos feels a sudden warmth spreading through his chest. "I was struggling with saying what I wanted to say to him, so at some point, I just decided I could put those words and feelings into a song. He likes to listen to the radio when he's driving so he might even be listening right now."

Although nothing bad or negative is going on, Carlos feels himself growing tense, nervous. There's no doubt the "he" you keep mentioning is him but what exactly is it you've been trying to tell him? Is there something he's missing?

"Did you tell him you've written a song about him?" the radio host asks.

"It might have slipped my mind," you answer coyly.

The announcer only laughs. "Oh dear, what a way to find out! Without further ado, let's hear your love letter to the mysterious man. I really hope he's listening to us right now. Don't you dare change the station, you lucky guy."

To his own surprise, Carlos recognizes the melody - you've been humming it for weeks now. But as you begin singing, the words leave him in disbelief. Do you really... mean all of that?

Carlos is lost in the song, feeling as though the lyrics aren't just lyrics but your genuine confession; a true love letter, as you have said yourself. He's brought back to reality only when the car behind him honks and Carlos is a hair's breadth away from picking a fight with the other driver. Nothing requires more haste or attention than his girlfriend exclaiming to the whole world that he will always be the one for her and that she will love him over and over again.

Charles Leclerc

You don't hear Charles coming in - you're too lost in your own thing to remember there's an entire world outside of the song and the piano in front of you. On the other hand, Charles doesn't announce his arrival as he doesn't want to disturb you. To be perfectly honest, he's a little too curious to interrupt you. It happens very rarely that you practise outside of the studio and so Charles doesn't really get to hear your more casual singing, not an embellished performance for the audience.

As quietly as he can, he makes his way towards you. Charles casually leans against the doorframe, your back turned to him as you continue playing the piano. He barely bites back the smile that creeps onto his face whenever you effortlessly sing the high notes - they are difficult for professionals and yet you execute them so cleanly, they appear almost too easy.

The lyrics haunt him but in a truly delicious way. A particular note of sincerity in your voice makes the words stick to him like rain does to a reckless passerby. Sure, they will slip away, although not before drenching him; their vital piece will forever lie with him.

When the song comes to an end, Charles (without thinking twice) gives you a hefty applause. The surprise makes you almost fall off the chair.

"Shit, you scared me!" you yell at him. It takes a couple deep breaths and your boyfriend's apologies, to collect yourself. "How much did you hear?"

He shrugs, suddenly realizing that he wasn't supposed to hear even one note of the song. "Pretty much all of it."

Your expression must not be joyful as Charles resumes his apologies and poor attempts at excuses. Suddenly, you cut him off. "How'd you like it?"

For a moment, he only hums and mindlessly knocks at the doorframe, looking for the right words.

"I loved it," he confesses. A strange tension in his voice proves he's telling the truth. "It's a beautiful song."

"Good," you answer absentmindedly. Quietly, you nod to yourself before looking back at Charles, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "It would really suck if you hated a song about yourself, you know?"

His eyes grow wide and Charles seems to forget about blinking for a good minute. Judging by the changes in his expression, you can tell the exact thought process he's experiencing: realizing you've written a song about him, joy caused by that, remembering the lyrics and finally taking them personally.

The more observant fans might notice a new addition to his helmet: "Claire de Lune" written in elegant lettering.

George Russell

Common sense might tell you that a race car driver must have no fear. And that would be correct, although quite imprecise. They must have no fear on track, yes, but daily life is quite different from racing, isn't it? Or maybe George is discovering a range of emotions he has not known before.

Your relationship is fresh but that isn't to say it's not serious. The weight of the connection the two of you share is a major part of the reason why George has been dead set on taking things slow. The other part is him knowing what media circus will play out once the news breaks. It's hard to blame him for wanting to keep at least some aspect of his life private, especially one that means so much to him.

As understanding as you are, George's apprehensiveness is tiring. You perfectly understand his reasoning and to some degree share the sentiment but at the same time, you are just somebody in love - you itch to scream it to the whole world. Or, at the very least, share a picture of the two of you. Both of you haven't been middle-schoolers for quite some time now, so why act like ones?

George, like the supportive boyfriend he is, loves to see you in your element. He watches the music videos, yet, but he much prefers the dance practice videos, where you're visibly enjoying each second of the choreography. Therefore, when you upload a new dance video for your song, he's probably the first person to play it.

It's a catchy tune that makes even the most boring people want to dance a little. With his head moving to the rhythm, George doesn't focus much on the lyrics until something in the second verse catches his attention:

So used to hiding We built our kingdom around The right timing

The lines, understandably, hit a little too close to home to be a pure coincidence. Now suspicious, George replays the video - this time, he's actually listening to the words instead of focusing on your dancing. Any hesitation that he's the true recipient of the song is gone with the first line of "Say you want me". The desperation in your voice is simply too candid to be just an act for the sake of the performance.

With the song loudly playing on a loop, George is scrolling through his phone's gallery in search of the best pictures of the two of you. He can't help but mouth the lyrics along with your singing, only to randomly giggle as the thought once again settles - it's about him.

Your phone can't stop vibrating. The notifications are coming nonstop. What on Earth happened? Upon opening Instagram, the mystery is solved. The internet seemed to be set on fire when George posted a series of pictures of the two of you with a caption that earned a giddy chuckle from you: "Setting us in motion".

Max Verstappen

Max and you both understand how much support can change. Sometimes just knowing that this other person is out there, watching and cheering, can change everything. As such, the two of you try to attend each other's events as much as you can. Unfortunately, the universe isn't always kind and you end up on the opposite ends of the world. The only support you can offer then is watching the live-streamed event - just like Max is doing right now.

He's sitting in his driver's room in Singapore, while you're at an award show in the USA. Quite the distance. There's something unbearably humbling about having to watch your performance like most of the world, when Max is, without a doubt, not most of the world.

In the back of his mind, Max is still thinking about the conversation he had with you earlier. Although he never misses your performances, you made it a point to tell him to watch this one. In your own words, he's supposed to look out for something fun, like a detail that will make this show different from the others. So as though he is a hawk, or more of a vulture, Max is hyperanalizing everything that's happening on the screen. He's not about to miss your little surprise.

The song begins and as much as he wants to enjoy watching you in your element, Max is a missile on a mission. Nothing specific seems to catch his eye but that t-shirt you're wearing...

Max knows it all too well. Theoretically, it's his t-shirt but considering you wear it more often than he does, it's practically yours. Now it's styled to fit the concept and image of your bandmates but the colour, the logo, the number, are all unmistakeable. Considering how much you're touching the article of clothing, compared to other dancers, he's convinced he's found what he was meant to look for.

Before he can wonder why you've chosen to wear his t-shirt for your performance, it's you who gives him the answer through the lyrics:

I feel like for the first time I am not faking Fingers on my buttons and now you're playing Master of anticipation, don't you keep it all to yourself

Max Verstappen doesn't get flustered but if he did, he'd be beyond flustered right now. The realization hits him like a derailed train - the song that everyone has been obsessed with through the summer and that has pretty obvious sexual lyrics is actually about him.

And if he did get flustered, the emotion would be rather short-lived, giving way to pride. After all, the core meaning of the song is that he's a generous lover, right? Clearly, he's been taking good care of his girlfriend.

Now, each sung line of "Just the touch of your love" makes Max all the more frustrated that the two of you are so far apart. He's earned his title of "Master of anticipation" and he intends to keep it.

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strangersteddierthings · 1 year ago

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The Interview

Inspired by this post by @xoxoladyaz. Read on Ao3.

Eddie wakes up to one single missed call from Gareth on his private phone.

No one calls his private phone.

He dials back instantly.

"Hey Eddie," Gareth greets. He sounds tired.

"What's up? What's happened?" Eddie asks, a thousand and one scenarios running through his mind. Gareth is in Indianapolis, and Eddie's thoughts are filled with only his uncle back in Hawkins.

"Nothing's happened that we can't deal with, or rather, that I've already been dealing with. But, uhh, there's an interview you should watch. Let me send you a link-" there's a pause as Gareth does just that "-and just call me back after you've watched it. I know we usually ignore the shit people say about us but this- it's different."

"Okayyyy," Eddie says slowly. "I'll watch it."

They hang up without goodbye because Eddie's just going to call him back after the video. Opening his messages he sees the link, and then Gareth sent a follow up text you need to watch from 12:32 onward.

The video is nearly two weeks old already, and YouTube shows him a face he knows. Robin Buckley looks older but it's definitely her. Her hair isn't styled much differently than she had it in high school, just above her shoulders and a little wild. She's wearing a three piece suit in emerald green, slightly oversized on purpose by the look of it. She's sitting in a chair, cradling a grammy with one arm, as the interviewer sits across from her.

Eddie taps the screen and drags the progress bar closer to the 12-minute mark and listens. He hears the tail end of Robin's response to some question about her album before the interviewer asks what must be the question Gareth wants him to listen to.

'So, I think everyone is dying to know if you and Eddie Munson are friends. You're both from Hawkins, Indiana. Isn't that correct?' the interviewer asks.

Robin's smile slips a bit, 'I- uhh, this is going to be unprofessional of me but I made a promise to someone regarding if I was ever asked about Eddie Munson. So, can I have one minute to make a phone call before I answer your question?'

'Oh. By all means, make your call.'

Eddie watches as Robin is brought her phone by someone who is probably her personal assistant. She wastes no time in unlocking it and finding whoever in her contacts list.

'No time for formalities. I've been asked about Munson. Can I tell the truth?' Robin's mic isn't strong enough to pick up whatever answer she gets on the phone but she shakes her head to whatever answer she's been given. 'I told you, I love you more than this career and I've already got the grammy. I'll handle the fallout. It's not about me. It's about you.' What follows is a few seconds of silence before Robin nods and says goodbye, ending the call and passing the phone back to the PA.

The interviewer's eyebrows are up to her hairline in shock. 'That sounds ominous. You think it's career ending?'

Robin grins and it's almost feral. 'Corroded Coffin's fans have always been ruthless, and perhaps a bit heartless, so what I have to say will certainly set them on the attack. To answer your original question, yes, Eddie Munson and I are from Hawkins. We even shared band class in high school, but that's the end of what connects us. We are not friends, but we once were.'

'Can you elaborate on that?'

'Our friendship ended ten years ago when he ruined my best friend's life for fame and fortune, and Steve's never really known a day of peace since.'

Eyes wide, the interviewer leans closer, 'Steve? As in, Hey Steve, Steve?'

Robin nods, 'Just the one.'

'Are you prepared to talk about how one song ruined your friend's life?'

'That was the purpose of the phone call. Yes, I think people should know the truth. Munson vented his bullshit breakup rage into a song and fucked off out of town. A week after its release, his fans doxxed Steve. He wasn't out to his parents, you see, and Corroded Coffin's fans, Eddie Munson's fans, outed him. They sent hate mail to his house by the ton, it seemed. The fallout from that- the aftermath-' Robin cuts off as her eyes water and she swipes at them, smearing some mascara across her cheek. 'I'm sorry. I almost lost my best friend, the platonic love of my life, that day.

'It's public knowledge, what happened, you can look it up online if you know what to look for. But it is also so incredibly personal. I want to be the one to say this because it's important. What you do in life, it has consequences, and sometimes those consequences are for other people. Whether you think it will, or not. I'd rather people hear it from a human voice, from someone who loves Steve, and not the journalist view. No offense,' Robin shoots the interviewer a sweet smile.

'None taken, please continue.'

'Steve was hospitalized, I won't give the details,' Robin says, in a watery voice as she's clearly trying to not cry at the memory. 'When Steve was finally released from the hospital, there was no one but me to pick him up. And he's going through this while nursing a broken heart. He and Munson had only been broken up for maybe a month before Hey Steve came out.

'In less than two months, Steve had lost his parents, his home, all his belongings, and the man he thought he'd marry one day. And to top it off, that man gets to become rich and famous off a venomous, hate-filled song about their breakup. It talks about Steve like he's coward for not willing to be out, yet, and how... what's the line, about conformity?'

'Conformity holds your leash, baby, so run to the end of your chain and bark,' someone off camera shouts.

'Yes, that, thanks. Accusing Steve of picking 'conformity' over his love. Steve wasn't picking conformity, he was picking safety! And the worst part? The hate mail has never stopped. Steve lived with me and my family for a few months after getting out of the hospital before the hate mail got too much, and someone showed up at my childhood home, looking for him, threatening him. They had a gun. It was traumatic. I was still in my senior year of high school-' Robin cuts off, taking deep breaths.

The interviewer reaches across to place a comforting hand on Robin's, 'I can't even imagine what that must have been like.'

Once Robin has composed herself, she says, 'sorry, this is a lot. I've had ten years to come to terms with it, and I've waited seven for someone to ask me about Munson. I didn't think it would be this hard.

'And it's not- I can't blame Munson, or Corroded Coffin, for everything that happened. He doesn't control his fans. But he's never said anything about the treatment his fans give Steve. And if they're like this towards Steve, are they like this towards all his other ex's? Does Munson not care, or, almost worse, does he not even know?' she stops again, getting a faraway look for a moment before looking at the interviewer again. 'I had to help Steve move again. Just last month. They're still finding him. Sending him hate. Doxxing him.' Now she looks at the camera directly, "Eddie Munson. Call off your fans. Stop playing Hey Steve at concerts. Isn't a decade of hurt enough?'

There isn't a lot that makes Eddie feel anything these days, he'll admit. A decade of fame has made him a bit cynical and callus. However, Robin had said something that made his insides squirm. He swipes across the screen, rewinding the video to hear Robin say Steve had lost his parents, his home, all his belongings, and the man he thought he'd marry one day. Swipe. -ents, his home, all his belongings, and the man he thought he'd marry one day. Swipe. The man he thought he'd marry one day. Swipe. Marry one day.

He pauses the video. That can't be right. That has to be a lie Robin is adding. To garner more sympathy or make Eddie, and therefore Corroded Coffin, look worse. Steve and he had been young and naive when they'd dated. There was no way they'd have ended up married, even if Eddie had stuck around Hawkins longer. Gay marriage wasn't even legal when they broke up in 2013.

Eddie unpauses, skips forward to the end and listens to Robin speak directly to him. Stop playing Hey Steve? The song that rocketed Corroded Coffin into the limelight? No way. And call off his fans? Like they're dogs he's supposed to control or something. The video ends and the YouTube algorithm shows him a number of react videos. Eddie clicks on one and falls down the rabbit hole.

At first the algorithm shows him responses in his favor. Videos made by his fans defending him, or strategically picking apart what Robin had said. Eddie wants to agree with them, he doesn't think he's done anything wrong other than live his life, but then.

Then a video of a guy wearing merch sold during their tour last year plays. He's on the right side of the video while a screen recording is on the left. It takes him less than five minutes to get Steve's past addresses found. And Eddie is... well, he's a little horrified at how long the list is. At the short amount of time Steve's spent in any one place is.

The guy in the video reads out the state, city, and how long Steve lived at each address. The longest one is when Steve made the jump from Florida to Maine, where he lived for 19 months according to the video, and that was years ago.

And then the guy, he fucking starts to speculate about where Steve might have moved to next.

"We can't know for sure, but it looks like he headed back west? You can see from the last 3 addresses he's been just jumping state lines to the next place. I'm guessing Oklahoma, Kansas or Nebraska next. If Steve thinks he can try and ruin Corroded Coffin through Robin Buckley, then it's up to us to prove him wrong," the guy is saying, and Eddie thinks maybe this guy is just exaggerating but the comment section is already filled with other people saying vile shit about what they should send to Steve or what they'd like to do to him physically and-

Eddie clicks off the video, to the next recommended. The more he watches, the angrier they seem to get. He goes to the search bar and looks for new react videos.

He finds that everyone has an opinion. He watches videos where his own fans express their disappointment in him. They talk about how Corroded Coffin runs an antibully campaign and then allows their fans to bully an ex and for not calling out the ones doxxing people, wanting to know which was the reason - does Eddie not know, or does he not care? Eddie didn't know. Truly. But he can't help but wonder if he didn't know because he didn't care.

He'd written all his feelings into a song, and now that he's older, he can see that a lot of what he was feeling is an exaggeration and dramatization of what really happened. But the point is, he'd written out his feelings and moved on.

The man he thought he'd marry one day.

His stomach twists uncomfortably as Robin's voice rings in his mind.

He continues his spiral down YouTube until Gareth calling him again breaks through and he answers.

"How is this the first time I'm hearing about Robin's interview?" Eddie demands.

"You've got a damn good PR team, that's how. I guess you fell down the rabbit hole, then?"

"How'd you-"

"Is been almost 4 hours since we talked. Doesn't take that long to watch a 30 minute video."

"Oh. Alright. So, why did you want me to watch the video? Am I supposed to respond to Robin?"

"No. People don't actually want to hear from you. They want to hear from Steve. And that's why you needed to watch. 'Cause Robin's announced that Steve's finally ready to make a statement. Robin's going to post it on her Twitter. Tonight. So, we've got to be ready. If anything Robin said turns out to be true, we might have a problem on our hands. A slander lawsuit being just the beginning."

"Fuck."

"What a way to sum it up," Gareth chuckles into the phone before his tone becomes serious, "hey, how are you doing, though? With it all?"

He thinks about it, and how he really feels, before answering. "It's been years since I've thought about Steve, y'know? I... I've had that luxury. I didn't know.... Did you?"

"No. Hell no! I'd of said something. I mean, shit man, we run an antibully campaign 'cause high school was shit to us. If I'd known at all we'd have been telling them to fuck off. Harassment's just what they call bullying adults."

Eddie swallows. "Guess we just have to wait and see what Stevie has to say."

"I'd come sit on the couch with you and refresh twitter frantically but, well, Indy's a bit of a ways off. I'll call after Robin's posted, then?"

"Yeah, man. Let's see the damage," Eddie sighed. "Talk to ya later."

"Bye."

Eddie digs out his laptop and pulls up Robin's twitter page. He adds an auto-refresher extension and sets it to refresh every minute before opening his phone and pulling up YouTube again.

#steddie #my fic #based on xoxoladyaz's ficlet #it'll be three parts i think #the interview #Steve's response and the immediate aftermath of that #and eddie meeting up with steve to talk

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hl-obsessed · 2 months ago

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WARNING! it's a long one - 54 fics listed! 🙈💕✨

•°•°•°•°•°•

✨💎 Lend Me Your Broken Parts by @dizzy-pixie17

(M, 2,4k)It's been five years, but when Lottie doesn't know what else to do to console a hysterical Louis, she calls Harry.

And despite everything, Harry comes.

Look How Well I Play the Bare Truth by Missbeautifullywritten17

(NR, 8,7k) When recently single (to the general public, of course) Harry Styles gets nominated to an Oscar for playing a gay policeman in the 1950s he thinks it is the most wonderful and, at the same time, painful thing it could have happened to him. How is he supposed to say how much Tom and Patrick's story means to him without revealing he is being closeted himself? How is he supposed to go on with his life after receiving the most important award there is for simply playing the bare truth? Well, maybe the rainbow dress he is wearing would be enough of an statement...

Or, the one where Holivia stunt ends, dwd flops and My Policeman gets lots of oscar nominations. Now, it is March 2023, Louis can't be there with him even though his bearding relationship with Eleanor and bbg are already done and he is in the process of coming out himself (apparently, coming out was one thing, but them being a couple... that was perjudicial for their careers and shall remain hidden). So what he does instead is a rbb photocall with the one and only Niall Horan while they watch Harry on the TV screen.

Meanwhile, Harry Styles remembers his past and finds himself on stage with an oscar in hand and, perhaps, his only chance to be free.

Cigarettes and Fuckin’ on the Windowsill by carmelstyle

(NR, 2,4k) Harry comes back from Italy after filming “My Policeman” and stunting. Louis isn’t happy about that last bit.

Or: Sex in front of a window.

Rest in Peace by @stfustucky

(M, 2k) Sometimes, when he looks back on things, there’s a small, angry part of Louis that wishes he’d never met Harry. If he’d just missed that audition, if he’d just stayed in bed, he never would have fallen in love with curly hair and bright green eyes and dimples he’s never gone a day without kissing since. Most times, when he looks back on things, Louis blames himself. The very solar system revolved around Harry and Louis had the closest orbit, flying close enough to feel that warmth in every atom of his body. He should have been paying closer attention, should have opened his eyes and stared into the sun and seen what was happening.

Harry has inoperable brain cancer at the age of 26. Louis watches the love of his life slip away.

guide you home by @nauticalleeds

(G, 0,8k) It’s been a while since Harry’s been able to appreciate the night sky, been a while since his life wasn’t full of hectic schedules and interviews and jet lag. He looks at the sky a little longer, watches the stars blink back at him and thinks about another bright presence he’s been missing.

Taking out his phone from his pocket, he thumbs at his screen to open a new message.

Full moon tonight, he types, and presses send. He keeps the app open, expecting the message to come instantly.

It does.

the peace ring is back in louis' ass? by @greeneyesfriedrice

(E, 1,2k) peace ring adventures with harry and louis! probably not what you expect!

Singing My Name Like Your National Anthem by @letthemusicmoveyou28

(T, 1k) “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Louis just scoffs at that, dismissing Harry quickly yet lovingly in a way that only he has ever seemed to manage. “Good luck getting me to be anywhere else love.”

Harry sighs. “Louis you can’t afford to get sick too. Your album release is next week, you’re booked solid.”

Louis just shrugs. “And if I get sick then we’ll rebook all of it. Or damn it all to Hell for all I care. As much as I want my fans to hear the album, there is nothing more important to me than you.”

✨ Second Time's A Charm by @dizzy-pixie17

(M, 4,7k) “Harry?” Oli Wright said nervously into the phone. “Um… How… how’re you doing?”

Harry’s heart was already picking up speed because there was only one reason Oli ever called him after midnight.

“I’m alright,” Harry answered. “What’s going on? Is it Louis?”

“Uh… yeah,” Oli admitted. “There’s been an accident.”

The one where Harry finds out Louis broke his arm. For the second time in one year.

A Boyfriend for Christmas

(G, 5,5k) Louis' co-worker, Gemma, asks Louis to be her date for Christmas dinner. She needs a fake boyfriend to keep her family from harassing her about her singlehood. Louis adores her, so he doesn't mind helping out--until he meets Gemma's handsome younger brother.

Feeling It Now by @ireallysawanangel

(E, 7k) When Louis hooked up with a hot guy in the bathroom at a music festival, the last thing he was expecting was for that guy to be one of the headlining acts at the festival.

✨ Seal The Deal by @itsnotreal

(NR, 2k) Harry’s been getting Louis Tomlinson’s mail for months, even though he told the mailman that he lived in apartment two and Louis lived in apartment eight.

✨ It's Thursday. Let's Get (un)Dressed by @bananaheathen

(E, 9k) When Louis is peer-pressured into downloading TikTok over the holidays, he fully expects to hate it. And he does hate it. All of it. Well... except for aspiring OOTD influencer, @ harrystyles.

Your Silhouette Over Me by orphan_account

“Alright don’t forget the mission, get Louis laid,” Louis shouted over the music.

“Don’t know who Louis is, but I support it.”

Louis turned towards the contributing voice and saw the bartender leaning in front of him, his elbows resting against the lip of the bar. He had brown hair that fell in loose curls just above his collar bones which were perfectly on show due to the fact that his shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his abdomen. The shirt’s sleeves were cuffed up along his inked bicep and the pattern was something that Louis would expect a dad on vacation to wear, not a young bartender.

“He’s Louis,” Zayn said, jutting his thumb in Louis’ direction.

The bartender nodded approvingly, “then I definitely support it.”

~~~~~~

Or the one where Louis went out one night after work, wanting to get laid, and then ended up meeting a bartender named Harry Styles.

you drive me wild (you know you do) by @missandrogyny

(E, 6,6k) Their management informs them that they have an interview right before the ARIAs, and it isn't until he's in a suit, seated on a couch between Liam and Zayn, that he gets the idea.

The interviewer, Angus, smiles at them, right before the cameras roll on, and a metaphorical light bulb goes off inside Louis' head. He's perfect. Well, not as perfect as Harry, but enough. He's attractive, attractive enough to drive Harry crazy, and he doesn't even think of the consequences of his actions, just decides right then. It's all Harry's fault anyway. Louis should be allowed to have a little fun.

(or: Louis flirts with the Australian interviewers and Harry gets possessive.)

Love In Conversation by @hellolovers13

(T, 4,9k) King Arthur Baking Hotline.

Your bread fell flat. Your cookies crumbled. Who do you turn to? The King Arthur Baker’s Hotline.

Louis has a severe baking breakdown.

Thankfully, he gets help from baking-hotline operator Harry.

✨💎 i've secretly always wanted to be yours (and for you to be mine) by @bottomhaztoplou

(M, 1,6k) Harry has just presented. Louis needs to know that he's okay.

Only you by @germericangirl

(E, 4k) Harry comes home from filming a particularly intimate scene for My Policeman. Louis is jealous, Harry doesn’t understand why. They talk it out, more or less…

✨ Whoever, However by @brooklyn-babylon / @twopoppies

(E, 8,9k) Louis could feel his heart rate pick up as he positioned the camera and Harry slowly stood up. They both knew what came next –– it had been clearly outlined in the advert Harry answered. The studio Louis worked for was filming a new series of camboy videos. Louis’ job was to make it look like amateur porn –– sweaty, sensual, dirty –– but well lit and edited. He was an artist, thank you very much.

—-

Or: Louis has a much better day at work than he’d expected.

home at last by @greeneyesfriedrice

(E, 1,9k) Harry turns, a wide smile on his face. Louis stands in the doorway to their shared bedroom, his right arm held close to his body and in a makeshift sling.

He makes sure not to fully ram into his husband, but it’s been almost one month, so sue him if he’s excited.

Everything by @tommokat

(E, 4,3k) He’s got a job he loves, fans he adores, friends to call on and family to claim. He’s traveled the world, broken records, set new ones. He’s 13 years into a relationship with the love of his life, the man he can’t wait to start a family with. He’s a three-time Grammy award winner getting railed by his husband in the back of a SUV in the middle of LA traffic. He’s got everything. What more could he want?

Post Grammy’s SUV Celebration Sex

Devil in my brain, whispering my name @lunarheslwt

(E, 9k) Or, Louis, a demon, shows Harry, an angel, just how good it can feel to give in to temptation and sin.

Only You, Always by @larryficwriter

(NR, 5,5k) “Hey Haz,” Louis says, tensing because he can tell that something is wrong. Out of the corner of his eye, Louis sees Liam hurriedly busying himself with the Xbox.

Harry walks over to Louis, eerily calm. Louis’ gulp is so loud he’s almost sure that Niall and Zayn could have heard it. He leans down, his breath tickling at Louis’ ear. Honestly, Louis can’t help the shiver that runs down his spine

“Bedroom.” Harry practically growls into Louis’ ear and then he walks away, just as calm.

For a second Louis is frozen. Just the tone of Harry’s voice has Louis twitching in his trousers. Louis knows what’s about to happen, he can just tell. And it is a far cry from the fight that he had been expecting. Louis gulps again, looking over to Liam. The tips of Liam’s ears are flaming and Louis’ about seventy-three percent sure that Liam had heard what Harry had whispered. Liam is specifically avoiding Louis’ gaze. And then it hits him that he should be up; he should be moving.

or how Harry reacted to the "Lilo Kiss" incident

Won't You Please Come Around by @allwaswell16

(M, 5,8k) Harry has lived in London for a month, and so far the only friend he's made is his sister's cat, Mr. Whiskers. When the lock on the window breaks, Mr. Whiskers begins exploring his new neighbourhood a bit too thoroughly and brings back mementos of his escapes.

Or a Valentine's Day story where Harry has a really fit neighbour, and his cat is a thief.

I Hope You Choke (on those words) by @imogenleewriter

(E, 3k) Harry Styles had been head of security for concert venues for over eight years.

Never in his career had he seen a musician as reckless when it came to personal safety as Louis Tomlinson.

After making his job a living nightmare, Harry decided he needs to talk some sense into Louis.

If only there were some way to shut him up.

You Could Give That Aspirin the Headache of Its Life by @letthemusicmoveyou28

(M, 3,6k) Louis had once heard that the chances of being struck by lightning are 1 in 700,000. He wonders now, how those odds compare to randomly being seated next to your ex boyfriend on a 10 hour flight.

Honestly, if the universe is going to insist on ruining his life, he really would have preferred the lightning thing.

(Or the one where Louis is a football player who gets stuck on a flight with his ex-boyfriend Harry. The universe might be conspiring against him, or is it?)

You Can See It with the Lights Out by @larryatendoftheday

(M, 8,6k) In a universe where you know as soon as you meet your soulmate, Harry's been shaking hands his whole career, waiting for the one.

Things Unsaid by @londonfoginacup

(G, 4,4k) Or, where you have a tattoo of the first thought your soulmate has when they see you.

✨ If the world was ending, you'd come over, right? by @enchantedlandcoffee

(T, 6,3k) "Is Harry with you?" Louis blurted out, his free hand tapping anxiously against his knee.

"Louis?"

"Yeah. Is Harry with you?"

On any other occasion, Louis knew Niall would have yelled at him for calling in the middle of the night. But Niall must've sensed the urgency in his tone, his voice immediately taking on a lighter touch.

"Yeah. Yeah, he's been staying in the spare room. Why? Do you want me to get him for you?"

"No!" Louis panicked. "Just- check on him please? Make sure he's breathing and everything?"

✨ My Arm Might Be Broken, But I Won't Be Broken Down by @boosbabycakes28

(T, 2,4k) Louis broke his arm for the second time and he is bored out of his mind. He has nothing better to do than mess with his husband.

✨ Together We're the Greatest by @hellolovers13

(E, 4,6k) “How the fuck does this always happen to you?” Louis huffed, pulling Harry's limp body into the half fallen apart car he'd borrowed for this. Well, he didn't intend to give it back, really, but insurance covered theft, did it not? And this thing was basically held together with duct tape and good faith, so really, the former owners should thank him for taking it off their hands.

It's not the first time Louis has to stitch Harry back together, but Louis will make sure it is the last

With the Bomb Lighting by @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 4k) “Hey mate, sorry for the delay. Pop divas I swear…”

Harry’s eyes jolt open with record speed and he notes in horror that the man that had been filling his fantasies mere seconds ago is now filling his laptop screen.

“Holy shit, is that your dick?”

(Or the one where Harry is doing Zoom interviews to promote his new album, but his time management skills are lacking. Louis is the writer interviewing Harry for Rolling Stone when he accidentally gets an eye full. They figure it out).

the sweetness of your words knows no bounds in making my heart leap by @bottomhaztoplou

(M, 1,4k) At the end of his heat, Harry writes a letter.

At the beginning of his rut, Louis writes one back.

Meant To Be (Arse First) by BayouSexual

(T, 4,8k) Zayn groans in response, and Louis can hear the slow rustle of his bed sheets in the background. “Is it another ‘you woke up in the back parking lot of a Tesco’s with no pants and I need to come get you before the cops do’ panic or more of a 'I can stay in my bed and lend you an ear’ kind of panic, because I drank a lot more than you did last night, Lou.”

“Uhh,” Louis replies eloquently, “more like an 'I have two giant, blood red handprints on my naked arse, and no, they aren't from a good shag’ kind of panic.”

------

Or the one where your soulmate mark appears on your body where they first touch you and stays there until they touch you for the first time.

Aka the one where Louis's soulmate must like bums.

Makes Me Feel Alive by @itsnotreal

(E, 8,3k) Louis hated when people came in to get tattooed and couldn’t sit still�� bunch of fucking squares is what they were. If only that had been the issue for his newest client.

Completely Oblivious by @itsnotreal

(G, 1k) “Are we dating?” Harry looked very confused.

Louis huffed, “That’s what I’m asking you!”

Or an interaction with a stranger helps these two finally figure their shit out.

✨💎 Your secret's safe with me by @lightwoodsmagic

(M, 7,4k) He knew almost everything about Haz, considered him his best friend. He knew his favourite movies and books, how he liked his coffee, knew how many pets he had and what he was most afraid of. Louis knew how to calm him down when he was panicking, and that he’d lost his virginity to his ex-boyfriend when he was 17. He knew that Haz had curly hair, green eyes, that he was tall and considered himself slightly awkward. He knew his Instagram account that only had aesthetic pictures or ridiculous jokes, but in the all the time that Louis had known him, he’d never learnt, or been allowed to know, Haz’s full name, what he sounded like, or what he looked like.

Louis didn't care.

Or, when Louis' favourite singer comes back and announces he's performing again, him and the rest of his group chat decide to go. When Haz, the man Louis' fallen in love with without meeting him, says that he can't, Louis tries his best to convince him with a drunken phone call, hearing his voice for the first time. It's not until he's at Royal Variety that he swears he can hear it again.

✨ Let The Ocean Worry About Being Blue by @greenblueish

(E, 5,6k) In a society where young adults go through the so-called Colour Test which determines their affiliation to a Colour - Blue, Yellow, Red or Green - and thus where they'll live, work and socialise for the rest of their lives, Harry is finally about to take the Test. Born and raised in Yellow, he met his boyfriend when he was still a teenager - against the government's recommendation. Louis, however, changed from Yellow to Blue two years ago. The problem: Harry needs to receive a Blue Test result as well, because a relationship between two people who live in different Colours is forbidden.

The Touch of Your Hand by @larry-hiatus

(E, 8,2k) Louis has decided to bite the bullet and get himself a dick piercing. He knows it’s going to hurt, but what he doesn’t know is how to calm down when he finds himself on the brink of a panic attack in front of the incredibly attractive piercer, Harry. Luckily, Harry is really sweet and offers to help ease his nerves.

You Don’t Have to Be Lonely Tonight by @neondiamond

(G, 2k) Louis is stuck working the Christmas day shift at the coffee shop. Harry is the sad stranger who comes in to spend the day there.

✨ In Jest by @londonfoginacup

(T, 4,8k) Louis, who smiles at Harry as he reclines in his chair. Louis, whose soulmark is visible thanks to his low-cut top.

Louis, Harry’s soulmate, who seems to either be blissfully ignorant of that fact or maliciously ignoring it.

Harry would really like to know which.

✨ you give me feelings that i adore by @alwaysxlarrie

(T, 7,6k) Harry doesn’t mean to fall in love with Louis’ scent when they first meet after the Alpha joins Harry's study group, but after Harry leaves a sweater behind by accident and it comes back smelling like Louis, he can’t really help it. Nor can he really help continuing to leave his things behind in hopes that Louis will take them home and drench them in his wonderful, mouth-watering scent. He just has to hope Louis will play along.

Or, 5 times Louis scents Harry's things and the 1 time Harry returns the gesture.

We All Scream for Ice Cream by @wishingforloushair

(M, 3,1k) Harry snatched the flyer back off the noticeboard, waving it at Liam. “BJ in your PJs?” he repeated.

“What? I’m not giving you a blowjob, Harry,” Liam said, looking slightly affronted.

“See?” Harry rounded on Niall. “No one thinks of Ben and Jerry’s when they read BJ.”

“Well, they should,” Niall said, snatching the flyer back. “Not everyone is a disgusting heathen like you two.”

“It says BJ in your PJs?” Liam asked, sounding aghast. “On all the flyers?”

“You told me it was catchy!”

When Resident Advisor Liam left his boyfriend Niall, and Niall's roommate Harry in charge of advertising the end of semester ice cream celebration for their hall residents, he should've expected it to end in disaster. Niall created an entirely inappropriate flyer, offering a very different experience than what they were planning to offer. When distributing the flyers, Harry meets Louis, an older student studying Drama, who is far more interested in BJs that doesn't involve Ben and Jerry's.

AKA crack/fluff with a bit of smut, based off of that one viral poster 'BJs in your PJs'

✨💎 Odds Are That We Will Probably Be... by @lululawrence

(NR, 0,6k) From the moment Louis learned no one would survive past the evening, the only thing he knew was that he had to get to Harry.

✨ I Knew From the First Time by @lululawrence

(NR, 6,1k) Or the one where Harry definitely doesn't take a sneaky pic of Louis on the Tube. Absolutely not. (Except maybe he does.)

All You Want's Under Your Nose by @wishingforloushair

(E, 3,5k) Louis decides to treat himself to a new sex toy, but is perplexed when he sees a man in the shop placing each vibrator against the tip of his nose and sneezing. Curiosity gets the better of him, and it turns out the man, Harry, is a sex-god who knows far too much about sex toys and promises Louis that if a vibrator makes him sneeze it will definitely make him come. Of course there's only one way to find out for sure...

On Love's Doorstep by @hellolovers13

(T, 1,6k) Harry Styles: a day in the life

☑ Stuck in a dress

☑ Abandoned by his best friend

☑ Date with hot neighbour

All in all, not the worst day ever

If Life Is a Photograph by @allwaswell16

(T, 2k) Harry gets plucked out of the crowd to take Louis’ crew pic on stage in Guadalajara.

It Was Electric Touch by @allwaswell16

(E, 2,2k) Harry, assistant to The Snuts' manager, has been indulging in fantasies about the headliner and founder of the Away From Home Festival, Louis Tomlinson. He gets the chance to indulge in the real thing at the after party.

Just Two Stars Passing By by QuickedWeen

(E, 5,1k) Harry blew up on TikTok and became a fashion commentator during the pandemic. Now, all of a sudden, big channels are asking him to cover their red carpets and premieres. Somehow he ends up covering arrival fashion for the 2024 Euros, and somehow Louis Tomlinson already knows his name.

A Late Summer Day by @gettingaphdinmomo

(NR, 0,5k) Today

I realized

you are home.

I almost told you

I love you.

Figure This Out by @haztobegood

(E, 2,4k) Louis is everything Harry could have imagined when he’d typed “silver fox enthusiast” into his Grindr profile. Too bad he's probably scared Louis off by giving him too many expensive gifts.

✨ Booked and Busy by @insightfulinsomniac

(E, 9,2k) Booking the Away from Home Festival is the biggest opportunity of Harry’s up-and-coming career to date. It’s just an added bonus that the festival is hosted and headlined by his longtime celebrity crush, world-renowned rockstar Louis Tomlinson.

Despite his excitement, doesn’t expect Louis to watch his set. Or to visit his dressing room ahead of his show to wish him good luck.

Or to flirt with him.

But seeing as this is the most monumental night of Harry’s life to date, he might as well make the most of it.

***

A fluffy, smutty PWP where Harry performs at AFH 2024 and gets a lot more than he bargained for.

.🌸🌸🌸.

✨ you gave me a ring, lad! by @theeliampayne

(G, 0,2k, Liam & Louis) In which Liam visits Louis at a concert and "give me a ring, lad!" is taken more literally than Louis intended.

like air to me by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

(M, 5,3k, Louis/Zayn) Five times Louis’ smoke break brings back memories of Zayn and one time it brings him back to Zayn’s doorstep.

.🌸🌸🌸.

🌿 part 1 (+50k) 🌿 part 2 (30-50k) 🌿 part 3 (10-30k) 🌿

#my fic recs #28th appreciation #larry fic #larry fics #hlficlibrary #larry stylinson fic #larry stylinson fanfic #larry fanfic #fic rec #HAPPY 28TH!!!

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xeeljii · 3 months ago

Text

STEP ON ME

You're free to have everything you can see All that you want from me

WARNING! Explicit RPF!

Summary: You meet a beautiful stranger on a night out and find yourself in his apartment where the night seems to be filled with endless possibilities

Word count: 5.2k

CW: 18+, f! reader, meet-cute /j, alcohol, dry humping, masturbation, no specific body descriptions.

This is a prequel to SHE'S MY COLLAR but can be read as stand alone, you don't need context but you can check that afterwards.

The night had started at some dimly lit bar for cheap shots and was now ending at some exclusive event one of your friends had been invited to. As soon as you walk in your whole group disperses but you are happy enough to dance on your own. The music fills you with energy, you down shots like it is water and dance wildly without a care of who is watching. Unbeknownst to you out of the corner of his eye you catch Joost’s attention, you are pretty in a way that makes it hard not to stare and he doesn’t want to be a creep but he notices you seem to be on your own and he is not a fool either so decides to try his luck tonight. He lets the magnetic pull of your presence bring him closer to you, he finds himself a couple steps from you, ready to ask if he can buy you a drink, rehearsed line on his mouth as he closes in the distance. But all of a sudden a song you seem to really love comes on and you throw your arms high up in the air as you take a step back, and without meaning to you bump into his chest spilling a little bit of your drink down his shirt. You turn around startled only to be met with the prettiest blue eyes you have ever seen.

“Sorry.” you both blurt out at the same time before breaking into laughter.

The stranger before you is tall and pretty dimples adorn his face as he smiles down at you, he bends down to speak right in your ear so you will hear him better over the loud music. “My name’s Joost”.

“Joost” You reply back, the name feels beautiful in your mouth and it sounds heavenly to his ears coming from you, you give him your name and he also tries rolling it out on his tongue, tasting it in his mouth.

You stay standing on the dance floor without saying anything just holding each others' gazes, electricity filling the small space between the two of you without moving, neither of you wanting to break the spell.

“Let me buy you another drink, since my shirt got in your way.” He speaks again pointing at the now half empty glass in your hand.

You snort muttering again a little sorry before looking up at him again. “Sure, thanks.” You say leading the way to the bar counter.

Between drinks and dancing you learn he is a musician, that he is here for a release party or an album recording or something of the sort, he is from the Netherlands and he has the cutest smile you have seen. He is fun to be with, he smells heavenly, he is a great dancer and he can’t take his eyes off you either. You dance for hours, down shots together and then start pushing them into each others mouths happily, you laugh until your cheeks hurt and the sound of his laughter is resounding in your ears. His hands keep lingering on the small of your back as you dance and yours keep running up to his nape, holding on his strong arms, and playing with the long strands of hair at the back of his head. You feel yourself lost to the concept of time as you stare into his pretty blue eyes. Deep into the night or the early morning, you have no idea what time it is, you hear his voice whisper dangerously close to your ear sending a nice wave of chills down your spine.

“Do you wanna come over to my place?” He says it without malice or bad intentions behind it, or perhaps any intentions, he just can’t bear the thought of ending this so soon and never seeing you again.

You grab hold of his hand and look up. “Lead the way.”

He leads you through dark empty streets illuminated only by street lamps as you keep chattering away about anything and everything. He tells you about his travels, the places he has visited, the ones he enjoyed the most, you tell him about yourself, your friends and job he seems genuinely interested, asks little questions here and there so you will clarify the specifics, it makes your heart beat in excitement. You don’t know what you want or expect from this night but if it includes him it is guaranteed to be a delight either way.

Half way through you start lagging behind, your feet are tired, your dress feels too tight, too short, and the amount of drinks you had is making you wobbly. “Are we still long from there?” You ask a little concerned. He looks back at you still holding your hand.

“Not much.” He replies, he sees your worried little face.

He takes a step towards you, lets go of your hand, shucks his jacket off quickly, and ties it around your waist without a word. You can’t quite understand what is going on then you see him turn around and go on one knee in front of you.

With his back towards you he speaks over his shoulder with a sweet grin. “Hop on, your ride is here.”

You break into laughter that makes you double over, it takes you a bit to compose yourself before you start climbing on his back. When he feels your arms secure around his shoulders he grabs at the back of your thighs with his strong hands and pulls you closer standing up. Your tight dress rides high, you are thankful for the jacket protecting your lower half from the cold wind night, you press yourself even closer to him greedily chasing after his body heat. You feel the warm expanses of the muscle on his back, feel the grip of his hand on your thighs, it is all too much, it make you want to dissolve into him.

He starts walking, treats you as if you are weightless. He is saying something about this one trip he took to Japan you can’t quiet be sure, you feel his soft scent so deeply that you can barely register that words are coming out of his mouth, it is such a delicious comforting smell like aftershave and tobacco rolled into one but somehow sweeter, you can’t stop yourself in your intoxicated mind you pull closer to the neckline of his shirt and sniff lightly. He feels it as it tickles his skin, he giggles then asks bemused.

“Did you just sniff me?”

You pull yourself away quickly pushing your hands against his shoulders to create some distance. “No I didn’t.” You say almost too loud, no confidence in your answer. You almost fall backwards from how hard you pushed but he holds tightly at your legs.

“Wow, easy there.” He giggles not even bothering to pretend he believed you. “Well do I smell good?” If you could see how widely he is smiling you would be mortified, completely caught red handed.

“Agh! Please let me off the hook for this one, I’m drunk” You whine dropping your head in the crook of his neck and resting your forehead on his shoulder completely defeated.

“Okay, okay.” he says laughing still.

After a few more minutes announces. “We are here.”

He softly puts you down on the ground while he looks for his keys on his jean pockets, you untie his jacket from your waist and put it over your shoulders, fix your dress back in place, the cold of the night bitting at your exposed skin making you tremble slightly. When he turns around and sees you wrapped yourself in his far too big jacket, your hair flying all around you wildly with the wind and your cheeks kissed red by the cold of the night, he thinks he is in love. You are a heavenly sight, he must have gotten drunk and fallen somewhere, hit his head so hard he died and now there is an angel right in front of him. He wants to warm you up by kissing everywhere but he settles for reaching his palm out to you so you will follow him.

You make your way up the stairs to his apartment quickly as you hold hands. It is a nice studio, it is a little messy, way more cans of Monster than should be advisable but you live off coffee half the time so you are in no position to judge.

“Sorry for the mess.” He says sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck, you shake your head and smile up at him.

“You should see mine.” And he would like that, he really would.

But right now he has you here and when he turns on a few lamps the warm light illuminates you more beautifully than before, the dimness of the club made your alluring features no justice, he feels his heart beat rapidly in his chest. You take his jacket off and put it on the hanger before walking up to him. Your face still has a nice rosy tint, the dress fits you beautifully but he can see goosebumps in your arms.

“Do you want me to get you something to change into?” He says as he is caressing softly at your exposed skin in a small attempt to warm you up, you nod.

He goes into the bedroom and you follow right behind, he grabs one of his shirts and a pair of boxers and hands them to you, you hold the clothes close to your chest. The air is filled with tension and you are holding heavy eye contact, neither of you wanting to look away. After a long pause he finally speaks again.

“I’ll wait outside.” His voice sounds labored and deeper almost dripping with need.

You want to tell him to stay, that he can watch but you haven’t even kissed yet and it feels like a little too much, so you just nod silently before turning around.

In the couch of the living room he takes a seat, he wants to take a peak but he is not a pervert so he starts smoking anxiously to calm himself. He turns on the thermostat and raises it a couple degrees to warm you up faster. Inside his bedroom you take off your clothes quickly and change into his, it feels nice, the fabric is soft and worn out, it smells like him it makes you feel like you are fully wrapped in his presence, it makes you tingle.

You walk out into the living room again, you see him splayed on the couch smoking and exhaling out of window he cracked open just a little bit. You go to sit next to him.

“It is a nice place.” You say looking around.

“Thanks, I didn’t decorate anything. I’m just renting it for a bit.”

You break into a giggle, he loves that sound. “Well there goes my compliment, no matter. You should see me sober I’m much more charming, trust me.” You wink up at him his cheeks heat up instantly.

He looks at you stunned, you look even more beautiful in his baggy clothes, like you belong here, like this is normal, like you are his. The idea excites him terribly.

“Do you smoke?” He asks, you reach out a hand and take the cigarette from between his fingers.

“Only when I drink.” You put the cigarette between your lips and inhale lightly, you don’t really like smoking but right here, right now, you just want to have it inside your mouth as it was just between his lips.

The taste is stronger than you expect and it has you coughing up embarrassingly. He takes the cigarette away from you and goes to rub soothing circles at your back which would be sweet if he wasn’t also laughing so hard right in your face. Your eyes water and you try to hit lightly at his chest.

“Don’t laugh at me.” The words come out garbled and hard in between little coughs as you try to compose yourself.

“Sorry, sorry.” He says still in between laughter, his palm is so big and warm, you can feel it through the thin material of the fabric, he continues rubbing calmly until you can breath normally again. With his other hand he wipes the stray tears away from your face. “So I'm guessing you don’t drink often.” He says big smile in his face.

“Oh please leave me alone.” You roll your eyes at him still a little embarrassed, you cover your red face with your hands, but he pulls them away before speaking.

“Come here.” Joost grabs at your chin gently pulling you closer. He takes a long deep drag of the cigarette, lets it fill his lungs, he gently puts pressure on your jaw with his fingers so you will open your mouth and you do. He is half a breath away from your mouth, you can feels his heat, his lips fall open slightly and he pushes the smoke into your mouth softly, slowly, you can feel his lips ghost over yours. You inhale, so relaxed under his touch, it feels so good, you want to close your eyes and melt into his hand right now but you also want to stare at his beautiful face, the way his eyes seem impossibly blue and the alluring almost white eyelashes that adorn them, all made more enticing by the small cloud of smoke that covers both of you.

Up close you see the beauty mark right under his lip, it decorates his face perfectly, you become hyper focused on it and before you can stop yourself you are crashing lips first right into it. You place a soft peck on it, he feels his heart stop then you move upwards to actually reach his lips. He feels perfect, he tastes perfect, it is better than you could have imagined.

You chase after his touch, he moves his hand to your waist to hold you closer, you feel him breathing in an out, chests almost touching, it is addicting. Your lips move in uncoordinated harmony but it feels so good. The kiss lasts too little before you have to pull away slightly to catch your breath, you see a string of spit connecting your lips it makes you blush even deeper if that is possible, somewhere in the middle of it all you had climbed onto his lap and he had let you. You are looking down at him, stunned with how gorgeous he looks, lips slightly red from the kissings and shiny from your own lipgloss.

He puts the cigarette out on an ashtray nearby, now both his hands are at your waist, thumbs caressing softly waiting on your next move. You go back for more, feeling bolder now seeing the hunger in his eyes that you imagine matches the one in yours. His lips are soft and a little chapped, they taste distantly like Bacardi and something sweet, the cigarette is there for sure but more than anything it taste like him. You chase after it, push your tongue in his mouth desperate for it, he is just as far gone as you sucks lightly at the wet muscle and you moan in response, his hands go to the small of your back and then to your ass to pull you closer, he feels the fat there so delicious under his fingers when he kneads his hands into the soft muscle. You mewl into his mouth, this feels so fast and like time has stopped.

You keep kissing, moaning into each others mouths, sucking at each others tongues in reckless abandon. Your hips started humping against his at some point, you feel heat building up in your core and keep chasing after it with soft little movements, he smiles against your kiss, feels your teeth knock together. You are so drunk, he wonders if you would be embarrassed to know what you are up to, he is now almost lying against the side of the couch, it digs on his back uncomfortably but he can’t be bothered by it when he has such a beautiful woman losing herself on top of him.

He grabs harder at your ass and pulls you up towards his stomach so you will stop torturing him a little with your grinding right on his uncomfortably hard cock. Your little whimpers sound so delicious, you are so lost on it, you keep kissing at his lips at his jaw down towards his neck, feeling his pulse right under your tongue. He keeps moving your head to reach your lips, seems to be wanting to eat you alive, you open your eyes and you see his pretty face full of desire, full of need, for you. There is a hunger inside you rapidly growing and soon it has you feeling famished. He can feel you trashing against the planes of his stomach looking for more friction, he can’t really tell if you are unaware or so unashamed in your state that you can’t stop yourself. But you are so desperate for him and he feels like a boiling pot about to explode so he uses the last of his self restrain to tell you, almost beg you.

“Have some mercy on me schat, you are driving me crazy.”

His deep voice brings you back to reality, you feel your soul enter your body again for a second and realize your hips are pathetically grinding against his soft belly, your face goes up in flames but you are so needy so hungry you don’t want to stop at all, the thought of it terrifies you. With your hands rested on his chest you uselessly try to pull him closer by his shirt and fail, but maybe your pretty mouth can get you what you so desire.

“Joost please… I need you.” Your voice is so airy full of want, he can’t ever imagine saying no to you much less when you look so beautiful, in the couch of his living room, wearing his clothes. He nods dumbly before speaking.

“Ok liefde.” He whispers back against your mouth.

He moves you swiftly placing your core right on the muscle of his thigh and planting his foot heavily against the hardwood floor so you will feel more of his tightened muscle. You knew deep within yourself, somewhere in your brain that he wanted you, that it is why he brought you back to his place, you expected to have a fun memory at most but didn’t realize he wanted you this much to let you do with him as you pleased, to get yourself off using his body.

You rub yourself against his thigh exploratory at first but then bolder, more vigorously, you are so wet, you wonder if you will stain his jeans, the delicious friction of the fabric on your cunt helping you get damper, more needy, he feels how hot you are through the fabric, wishes he could feel it directly on his skin, the throbbing of your cunt right on the muscle of his thigh as you make a mess of him. He is grabbing at your ass kneading softly and kissing at the column of your throat while you work yourself freely on his thigh, he is leaving big open mouthed kisses on trail until he reaches your mouth, you are so preoccupied chasing your high you can barley kiss back but it is okay, he does all the work for you softly exploring your mouth feeling your sweet wet tongue on his, the way your hips stutter when he sucks on it, how your hands hold tighter on his shoulders when he pushes his tongue deep into your mouth.

He is painfully hard under you, but doesn’t mind as he keeps his eyes trained on your beautiful face breaking out in pleasure. You feel yourself coming undone far too quick you don’t want this to end, you still want to see how much he fills you up.

“Take me to bed.” You whimper.

He lifts you with his hands below your ass in a swift motion and does as he is told before his brain can really catch up, he didn't bring you here for this, he doesn’t know why he brought you here really, he just wanted more time, more of you. But you are too drunk, he is also very drunk, but somehow feels more in control, it doesn't feel entirely right. He likes you, honestly, he wants to take you on a proper date if you would let him and he wants to meet you when you are sober, you are so funny and smart like this, he imagines he will be head over heels when he actually gets the version of you who can coordinate all her limbs.

He sits in bed with you on his lap, but then you raise from his warm embrace urgently, you grab at his jeans and unbutton them as you start pulling down, he goes to stop you.

“I wanna feel you closer.” You explain like this is all supposed to make perfect sense, and it does to him, right now if you told him the moon was made of cheese he would probably belive you.

You sit back on his lap, his jeans rest at his ankles. You start moving again desperate against his body, he rests his hands on your hips helping you chase your orgasm. You keep grinding wildly back and forth on his lap, hands closed into fists at his shoulders holding onto his shirt painfully thigh, you feel the familiar sensation start to bubble inside you as your sensitive bundle of nerves keeps catching on the tip of his clothed erection every time you move. Your moaning is so beautiful, he is so thankful there are no other noises and he can concentrate only on what you sound like as you are coming undone. You feel your climax crush into you rapidly, feel your hole gush and your pussy uselessly clenching against the air.

“Joost!” You scream pulling him closer, he pushes his lips against yours and swallows your sweet sounds with his mouth, he loves it but his neighbors will kill him for it and he doesn’t want anyone interrupting right now.

Your body throws itself back in ecstasy but he catches you while you continue to softly ride your high all over him.

“It is okay baby, I got you, I got you.” He caresses your back, sweetly whispering against your hair, placing soft kisses on your exposed shoulder from where his shirt is too big on you.

You come down from you high, heavy breathing on top on him, your hips still stuttering softly on his, your head is hanging low forehand pressed on his shoulder, he is holding you in place softly scratching at the tender skin of your nape, you swallow hardly trying to regain a little composure.

That felt so good and yet you want more, if you can only have this night you want everything. Your head feels so heavy, the room is slightly spinning around you, you try to focus your gaze on him, he thinks you look adorable. He is not much better off, his pupils are blown wide, he helps you out, grabs hold of your face delicately letting you rest you head against his palm. You raise your hips slightly, make move to pull the boxers he gave you down your legs, you feel you must have soaked right through them but you can’t care, he watches hypnotized with his breath caught on his throat, he see how wet you are, your pussy lips sticky with cum glistening with the light coming from the window. There is something so erotic about having you cum on his own boxers, he doesn’t think he will ever wash them again.

You move quickly and far more coordinated than you should with how many drinks you downed and sit right on his erection, melting again on his heat, the warmth wetness of your cunt grinding directly on the tip of his still clothed cock, a loud deep moan escapes him without meaning to, but he doesn’t let you go further. In a quick motion he has you on your back against his mattress, there is a soft thud, he holds himself right above you caging your hands with his, gently but sternly. His face wears an expression between exasperation and love, you want to reach out and touch him so bad but under his strength you can barely move. He shakes his head lightly when he sees you jostling under him, stupidly trying to reach your hips up to his and wrap you legs around him to pull him closer.

“No, we are not doing that.” He says more to himself than to you, trying so hard to stay sane. “I am not gonna fuck you when you are drunk.” He looks for your eyes looking up at him pleading for more, he kisses a little trail from the high of your cheeks until he stumbles on your mouth and steals one last long kiss trying to commit the softness of your tongue to memory.

Then he raises quickly, leaves you dumbfounded and so lonely in the middle of his bed, you feel weightless and like you can’t move at all at the same time you want to reach for him, pull him back down to your body, you feel so cold without him on top of you. You strain your neck to try to find him in the dark of the room.

“Come back.” You want to sound sexy, too good to ignore but it comes garbled with the awkward position your head is in.

“Not going anywhere.” You can see him next to you at the side of the bed standing over you looking so fondly at your needy expression. He bends down quickly, kisses at your forehead so sweetly it makes your heart ache. “Give me 10, no 5.” He whispers before he moves far too quick for your eyes to catch, in a second he has crossed the room to the bathroom. He doesn’t bother closing the door you can see faintly the shadow of his body from the back, barely past the threshold of the doorframe. You can’t focus on much, your eyes are foggy, you can barely keep them open, everything is so dark you still feel dizzy but so pent up, one time wasn’t enough at all.

At first there is a profound silence, you can only hear the blood pumping in your ears and then a small sound escapes the bathroom, it is so faint you fear you might have imagined it. The sound of skin on skin, you stop breathing trying to catch it again. You can see now a faint movement, his hand moving in repetitive motions, up and down. It sounds sleek like he is wet, you wonder if he is using spit or if it is his own precum, that thought makes your clit twitch, to imagine he is so desperate to fuck you but can’t do it, rather doesn’t want to do it when you are so vulnerable makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside, but all the more needy.

Your hand travels south, finds itself between your thighs, you are still soaked wet, you starts tracing exploratory fingers up and down your slit, you don’t want to make a sound, solely getting off on his sounds. You can hear the smallest whimpers, the softest groans, the drowned curses coming from where he is. You start toying with your clit, you reach your other hand under his shirt that you are wearing and pull it up exposing your chest to the warm air of the apartment, you twist and pull at your nipples hungrily imagining how he would touch you, you scratch lightly with your nails at the sensitive bud and wish he would bite down on you.

“Fuck.” You hear him mumble distantly but it feels like he is right by your side, caging you under his weight, saying it against your ear as he comes deeply inside you. Your reach your second peak using imagination alone, remembering the way he kissed you, his smell on the collar of the shirt he gave you as you inhale deeply, the way his hands held at your hips so tightly, you feel your cunt start twitching as you release whimpering softly his name over and over.

You feel his presence faintly back in the room before you open your eyes, still trying to calm down form your second high, you wonder how much he saw. Your neck is twisted in an awkward angle, your make up must be all smudged and you don’t even want to imagine what your hair looks like but to him you are the most beautiful sight he has ever laid eyes on.

He brushes your hair away from your pretty face, moves his hand to caress at your cheek and rests his thumb lovingly near your lips, you can’t help yourself and you take it in your mouth sucking lightly, you hope it is the hand he used to get off. You try uselessly to feel his taste on your tongue before he pulls away, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You are really too much.” He says fondly like he is pumped full of love. He takes the last of his clothing as you struggle to keep your eyes open to drink in his beautiful body.

“You are strange.” You say still feeling like this all was a dream, you smile at him with eyes closed.

“You have a really pretty smile.” He says as he pulls your, actually his, shirt back down, you break into uncontrollable giggles, something like shame threatening to wash over you for what you just did but his loving eyes keep it at bay. “And a pretty laugh.” He pulls you up so you are resting on the pillows, he gets in after you and pulls the thick comforter over both of your tired bodies. He pulls you so your head is resting on his chest but first steals one last sweet kiss from your lips, you smile against him. “And very pretty lips.” It is the last thing you hear before you fall into heavy rewarding sleep finally melting into the heat of his body.

He hopes you don’t disappear before he wakes up, pulls you tightly against his chest, can’t wait to meet the you in the morning, see if she is embarrassed or if she is just delighted to be on his bed, he falls asleep quickly with the warmth of your body between his arms, hoping with everything he has that it is the second one.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

SEQUEL: SHE'S MY COLLAR ₊˚⊹♡ MASTERLIST *ੈ✩‧₊˚ A/N: also if u r one of the day ones maybe you realized this one is also referenced in DOGTOOTH … IT IS ALL CONNECTED!! well not all all but u get it Hehehe anyways I hope you liked it let me know your thoughts! <3

#joost klein #joost klein smut #joost klein x reader #joost x reader #joost x you #joost #joost smut #joost fanfic #joost klein fanfiction

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01zfan · 5 months ago

Text

bambi | j. sc

rapper!sungchan x stalker!reader | 10k words

FIRST INSTALLMENT OF MY SERIEZ WHO CHEERED? anyways THIS is the darkest thing i’ve ever written. like this bitch is crazy omg! sungchan in this universe makes music like the album Nowhere by DUCKWRTH featuring The Kickdrums. i specifically listened to indica la roux on that album while writing this.

contains: stalking, references to a toxic relationship, physical violence (reader gets into a brief altercation with someone), jealousy, angry/rough sex, sungchan is disgusted by the reader a little bit!

rock the house masterlist | ko-fi

we are in the city of love and you won’t even look at me.

you barely had enough light to write on the top line of your notebook. you had to uncomfortably slouch in your booth seat to bring your face as close to the paper of the journal as possible. the single candle burning in the center of your table and the dim wall light barely gave you enough vision. you never understood the point of restaurants barely having any lighting. how were you supposed to properly enjoy your food if you couldn’t see it? you despised the fact that places of his choosing lately only seemed to be dimly lit establishments.

once you were done writing on the top line of your notebook you closed it and bound it shut with the leather band. you leaned back against the vinyl seats of the booth, looking at the gentle flame in front of you. you focused on the wicker, how it was burning closer and closer to its end. right as you shifted your eyes to look towards the almost empty bar, the monsieur clad in white came into your line of sight.

all he seemed to be doing tonight was get in your way. when you were standing outside of the restaurant, letting your breath vaporize in the cold air as you looked through the window the monsieur came out and asked you if it was a party for one. you only meant to pass by, to not be seen because he had come to the restaurant before you expected him to. but the monsieur’s voice drew attention to you, forcing you to quickly nod your head and confirm that you were eating alone.

you had your revenge by occupying a booth seat meant for two and only ordering wine. this was the monsieur’s third time coming around with the bottle in his hand and the menu in the other in an effort to get you to order actual food. each time you would only nod towards your empty glass, silently asking him to fill you up again, and each time the monsieur wordlessly filled your empty glass with deep crimson red that almost looked black in the lighting of the restaurant. each time without fail the smell of cherries hit your nose and you would grimace. you covered up your disgust quickly with a sniffle and then a nod of appreciation.

“anything else, madame?” the monsieur moved the menu in his hand towards you. “an hors d'oeuvre, perhaps?” he suggested.

you looked away from the person sitting at the bar to look the monsieur in the eyes. you smiled and shook your head, motioning to the full glass of wine.

“just this. merci.” you said.

the server nodded but didn’t try to hide his annoyance. he walked away from your table with the wine bottle in his hand, getting ready to tend to the people in the restaurant who actually planned on ordering food. you gave your own look of annoyance to his back and rolled your eyes before you picked up the glass of wine.

instantly the sickly sweet smell flooded your senses again, so much to the point you almost gagged. but even if the wine tasted like cheap juice, you still took a big gulp after a moment of hesitation. your taste when it came to wine was insignificant in moments like this. it didn’t matter if you hated it because he loved it.

you knew his lack of taste for alcohol made him impartial to the ones that sounded sweet. the only time the man sitting alone at the bar would get alcohol was if he was eating dinner with someone else and they wanted it. he would look at the drink menu pretending like he knew what body or mineral meant in regards to wine while taking quick peaks at the person sitting across from him. he would only order what the girl wanted, you remember hearing the phrase that’s what i was going to get! and feeling sick to your stomach watching him lie.

you were happy that you made sure people speaking for sungchan wouldn’t be an issue a long time ago.

you found out quickly that girls were spooked entirely too easy these days. all you had to do was send a message from an account without a profile picture and they would cancel on him without a second thought. most of them ghosted him wordlessly, like they were a figment of you and sungchan’s collective imagination. you could never bring yourself to feel pity for threatening the girls, the only thing you felt was confusion. how could they cancel so easily on him? how come none of them wanted to fight for him? you were far from scary, how come they never stood up to you?

the only time a girl remotely put up a fight was because she was desperate and horny from the alcohol in her system. you remember stumbling after her into the bathroom of a stuffy crowded club and slurring a warning under your breath. the girl only looked to you and scoffed as she touched up her makeup in the long mirror. you silently staggered to each of the stalls to see if you two were alone as she told you that there was no way she wasn’t leaving without the tall attractive man whose songs were on her playlist. but even she gave in easily after you pushed her face into the glass of the mirror, seething into her ear as you repeated your warning. you didn’t let up until she had tears in her eyes and was gripping the edge of the sink so hard her knuckles turned white and her fingernails began to bend. you remember the excitement you felt for initiating an altercation fizzling to boredom at her submitting so easily. you might’ve let her have her fun if she tried fighting back. but she scurried off with her tail between her legs and her hands cradling her face and you never saw her again.

you never understood why nobody ever wanted to stick around sungchan, and he seemed to wonder the same thing. without fail, he would end up at the restaurant or the park or the club alone, looking around for the reason why. he would check his phone countless times, texting and sometimes calling to see where the person had went. where are you? is everything alright? was the latest text in all of his recent conversations, and his call log showed countless attempts to reach someone who was suddenly unreachable. any pity you felt for those girls turned into pity for him, how he was so confused no one wanted to spend time him.

you also felt pity for sungchan because you knew it wasn’t his fault that his reputation preceded him. despite sungchan’s insightful lyrics in his songs he wasn’t very perceptive. he was unaware that something hung over him like a dark cloud swelling with rain. he was unaware that because of this everyone in the world was scared to get too close to him. you were the boogeyman to some, a whisper of phrases through the grapevine that ran through sungchan’s social circle without ever actually reaching him. you were called a crazy ex-girlfriend, an obsessed fan, a stalker, even a hitman—but that was all wrong. what you really are is his protector. the tribulations and the extent you would go to protect sungchan’s peace was something only you and your journal would know. you weren’t the dark cloud, you were the person behind him holding the umbrella over his head. you could admit in some aspects you were the boogeyman. you were the thing lurking in the shadows and hiding underneath the beds of anyone who doesn’t love or appreciate sungchan the way you do. someone had to be that person, someone had to have the tough job of protecting him. sungchan’s cardinal sin was that he was too trusting, his bambi eyes instantly softened to everyone, welcoming them in even if they intended to bring harm.

that’s why you were so drawn to him in the first place. you remember first seeing him, how his eyes welcomed you in so fast without hesitation. sungchan had no idea that you knew who he was, and you had no idea how close he was to you. he was too trusting that’s why you were able to become a part of his life so easily. before he became too famous to go outside you were there as the supportive person that was too complicated to be labeled as his friend. you were the one that convinced sungchan to go by bambi and to make a career off of being vulgar. you encouraged him to make songs about cursing even though you only heard him do it once and you helped him write about drinking and smoking because he couldn’t handle the taste of liquor and he coughed uncontrollably at even being in the presence of a cigarette.

many would’ve called sungchan a poser if they knew about him in real life. his lack of a presence on social media helped add to his allure and certified his persona. you remember sungchan often thought called himself a poser due to making songs about a lifestyle he didn’t lead at all. you believed that he didn’t get it—that he didn’t understand the artistry or the irony of bambi. a character created made to be the complete opposite of the big innocent eyes everyone always told him about.

you think that he felt disdain for the persona you helped create and he hated that his persona got him famous. you blame that for the reason he forcibly removed you from his life—all the other things he told you while you packed your things were simply just lies. you forgave him easily for what he said about you, that was water under the bridge a long time ago. loving and protecting sungchan forever was your part of the deal, and you planned on fulfilling your promise until the end.

that’s why you were here in paris, one of the places he always talked about taking you to as you stared at his back. he had just played a sold out show, there was no way you could let him celebrate alone. so as he drank his celebratory glass of wine you took another sip yourself, even raising it in the air slightly as if you were cheering him on.

the monsieur finished his rounds with sungchan, approaching him from behind to top him off. sungchan was slightly caught of guard, and you felt the thrill when he turned slightly in your direction. you instinctively moved your face to the side, trying to conceal your identity in the dimly lit corner of the restaurant where you resided. another couple left the restaurant as the monsieur filled sungchan’s glass the same way he did yours. you saw sungchan shake his head and wave off the monsieur after he leaned in close. you imagined it was the same question he asked you, maybe he tacked on a has your guest arrived yet, sir?

when you were three glasses of wine deep and it was just you, sungchan, a couple, and an old man left in the restaurant you started getting sloppy. this always happened when you were drunk and thinking of sungchan. you started clearing your throat a little louder than usual, staring at his back a little harder, and writing in your journal a little faster. the sound of your pen running over the pages filled the space you occupied. the old man looked towards you a couple times when you would let your gaze wonder around the rest of the restaurant. he sat on the other side, a pasta dish half eaten as he observed you carefully. you couldn’t be bothered to care about his gaze, if he was curious or silently judging you. you only continued to drink and write in your journal as you entertained your wine drunk ramblings.

you had made it to a new page of your journal when the last couple left the restaurant. you wrote about his show, how you were overwhelmed seeing so many people in the crowd from the balcony. you wrote about looking around the venue hearing the lyrics of a song sung back to him onstage. they don’t know the song was about me. you wrote about being in the studio with sungchan, just you, him, and a song about your body playing in his studio headphones. you wrote about what you did to him then and what you would do to him now as your hand began to lose it’s precise coordination. when you recalled sungchan lighting up the back of the venue and seeing him narrow his eyes as he looked in your general direction the end of your e’s trailed off the page. your pen to abruptly cut off at the end. your face started to feel hot to the touch and you looked to your empty glass.

you had lost count a long time ago and you realized you lost your perception of time when you looked to the bar again to find that sungchan was no longer there. you quickly looked around the nearly empty restaurant, scanning the tables and the area behind you as you tried to find him. when no one emerged from the bathroom you realized you had missed him. you looked down to your journal, noticing that your handwriting had devolved and you somehow made it to the bottom of another page. you leaned back against the vinyl of your seat again, rubbing out the tension in your shoulder from slouching for a long period of time. you entertained a thought of getting another glass to loosen yourself up but you decided against it—you had an unfamiliar transit system to navigate once you left. you instead moved the wine around in tiny circles, watching the small amount you had left coat the inside of your glass before settling again at the bottom.

you continued to mindlessly stare at your wine glass as the old man left the restaurant. when he bid an au revoir more waitstaff clad in white started coming through the swinging doors from the back of house into the main dining area. when they started shooting you annoyed glances and folding silverware in the booths surrounding yours you finally got the check. you imagined that sungchan was already in his hotel room, trying to contact another date that had stood him up. you imagined him pacing around the room begging for an answer to an empty mailbox as to why she bailed without saying a single word. you briefly thought about going to see him, or the chance of running into him on the way to your hotel but you let those thoughts melt away by the time you signed the bottom of the receipt.

while you pulled your jacket from the booth beside and slid your journal into your bag you stared at the barstool sungchan sat at. his empty wine glass and the bottle still sat there. if you were alone in the dining area you would’ve made an attempt to steal it. you could’ve concealed the wine bottle into the deep pocket of your coat, maybe even steal the glass to compensate for not sitting by him. at the very least you should’ve sent sungchan a bottle, just to see his eyes get big as he scanned the restaurant looking for the person who knows him so well. but you settled for wishing once again as you left the left the booth and walked around the circular tables to the exit.

in the cold paris night even underneath the fur coat that went all the way down to your calfs you were freezing. after the restaurant door was shut and locked behind you your arms instinctually came together, rubbing up and down the expanse to try and create warmth. you looked from side to side even though you knew where you were going, trying to compose yourself enough for the walk to the station. when you still felt cold you inwardly laughed to yourself about how the animals you were wearing died for nothing. you took an experimental step in your heels, and when you could walk balanced you turned right to head towards the train station.

you were distracted by trying to get home as fast as possible. you were too focused on your heels clicking on the brick roads making sure you were walking in a straight and composed line. you prioritized closing your body in on itself to try and generate more heat instead of taking in your surroundings. you were distracted by your vaporized breath and thinking about the weather back home that you didn’t notice the long strides coming up behind you.

for a moment, it was scary. you were looking down the small alley when you felt the hairs raise on the back of your neck. you turned away to look over your shoulder just to be pulled by your arm towards the space between two buildings that previously gave you a sick feeling. the force of the pull caught you off balance, when you tipped back on your heels another hand had to keep you upright. you couldn’t scream, you were so surprised and desperate to regain balance that you didn’t make a single sound. adrenaline and fear coursed through your veins as you were quickly turned around and pushed against the brick side of the building.

sungchan catching you off guard when you dedicated your life to watching him was ironic. the fact that you didn’t know it was him instantly was almost comical. when you understood it was him you couldn’t stop yourself from smirking. maybe it was the wine coursing through your veins that made you start to laugh. your cackles ricocheted between the two building and the blood rushing in your ears you didn’t hear what sungchan said at first. you only stopped laughed when he pushed you up the wall by his grip on your arms until your feet dangled uselessly in the air.

sungchan finally looked you in a dark secluded alleyway of paris, his narrowed down to slits before he realized who you were. his eyes became saucers, the whites of his eyes becoming more and more exposed and his grip on your arms faltered to the point that the tips of your feet brushed the ground.

“i fucking knew it.” he said quietly.

the smell of cherries and smoke fanned across your face. instead of grimacing you embraced it, breathing in so deeply your chest lifted. sungchan still had his hands on your arms and you were still pressed to the harsh wall. you felt a dull throb on the back of your head as the adrenaline of being caught like prey wore off.

you didn’t fight against his grip, you only bent your arms at the elbow as far as they could reach. you caressed the sleeves of sungchan’s winter coat and pinched the rough gray tweed between your fingers. he looked from your face down to your hands and with a disgusted look he let you go.

as sungchan backed into the brick wall of the alleyway opposite of you, you had a moment to compose yourself. silently he watched you run a fast hand down the sleeves of your fur coat to wipe off the dust. you backed away from the wall and straightened your sleeves, and quickly patted your jostled hair. when you were put together you leaned against the wall relaxed, trying to control the excitement you had been chasing after for so long.

“what are you doing here?” sungchan asked.

“you know i’ve always wanted to come to par—”

“bullshit.” your eyes widened at how natural curses seemed to roll off his tongue now. ”what are you doing here?”

sungchan looked at you from the other side of the alley like he didn’t already know. you were here because he was here. you could see the pieces slowly coming together in his mind, maybe he was more perceptive than you thought. when it finally all clicks you see him roll his eyes up to the sky, nodding his head as he speaks.

“i fucking knew it.” he repeats.

you still lean against the wall, the severity of the situation hasn’t set in for you yet. your inability to take sungchan as a threat even when he’s the angriest you’ve ever seen him is your biggest character flaw. your mind is only replaying the split second he brought you fear, the small moment of all your terrorizing on his life came back to you.

“how did you know?” you ask while wedging your hands between yourself and the wall. you only hope to provoke sungchan more by being relaxed, calmly asking questions while he actively loses his mind.

you see him look down from the sky to stare you down. you return his hard gaze with an innocent curiosity and cross your legs to balance on one heel.

“i swore i saw you in the crowd last night, and shotaro thought he saw you at the club months ago. i didn’t want to believe it but—” when sungchan saw you fail to hide a smile his eyes showed indignation. he stopped leaning against the brick wall to try and make himself seem bigger “you find this funny? i should call the cops.” he said.

you felt the sick thrill and adrenaline course through your veins again.

“so do it.” you said.

sungchan tilted his head at the sincerity in your words. he recognized your blown out bedroom eyes and the way you were getting excited. he shook his head in disgust again, but didn’t turn away from you.

“you’re disgusting.” sungchan seethed.

“i know, you wrote a song about it.” you looked down the alleyway, looking past the blue dumpster to the other side of the road. you smirked to yourself before leaning your head against the brick wall again. you playfully touched your chin like you were trying to recall something. “i think then though you used the word nasty.” you said.

you were playing with sungchan and he knew it. you both knew even if he cussed now, he still wasn’t someone who could call the cops on anybody. you both still remembered when he lived in the cheap apartments that he would hear illegal activity all night and turn a blind eye to it.

sungchan also hated to admit that he still had a piece of him that was protective of you. to be fair, he only recently noticed you lurking in the corners of his life. when he ended the relationship he thought it was a clean break, that you were holding up your end of the no contact agreement. when he came into fame he couldn’t help but think of you, and the sightings of you in the crowd of the shows he thought were projections of his mind made him miss you. when you slightly lost your balance on your heel the muscle memory of his body almost made him clear the distance between your bodies. he had to cross his arms to occupy his hands but it was too late—you looked at him with a knowing smirk as you went back to standing on your two feet.

he hated himself for the fact that he couldn’t pull away from you. sungchan recalled being in this position with you before—after a show, him looking down at your body leaned against the wall as you looked up at him with stars in your eyes. so much has changed in your relationship since then but sungchan felt the butterflies all the same. the stars in your eyes caused by the street lamps practically sparkled over your glassy pupils. he shouldn’t have had that last glass of wine. he found it harder and harder to be scared of you when you looked so welcoming and familiar opposite of him. you looked so warm in the fur coat he bought you with his first paycheck and suddenly shivered.

“your show was really good by the way.” you said, bringing your jacket closer to your body.

sungchan’s first step was small. his feet barely brought him away from the wall he was up against, but when he took the step forward you stopped leaning. every hair on your body stood on end, and for the first time in god knows how long sungchan felt unfamiliar. you spent so much time observing him that you forgot what it felt like to be the center of his attention. his second step was daunting, it made you straighten your posture against the wall and bring your hands from behind you to rest them at your sides.

the closer sungchan got the more you realized how big he had gotten. from the other side of the alley he was the same height as you, and from afar in his baggy attire he seemed small. but when he stood in front of you it left you craning your neck upwards to see him. he looked down at you with a look of disgust that shouldn’t have evoked anticipation shooting up your spine.

when he brought his hands up from his sides you stiffened. his hard gaze did not falter in the slightest as he gripped your arms the same way he did before. you winced from the pain, he was pressing directly onto the forming bruises. when he saw your face flash in pain he didn’t let up, he only squeezed tighter until you parted your lips to groan. puffs of air in exasperation floated between your two bodies before dissipating into the night sky. you noticed sungchan’s breaths coming out deep and heavy as you both held eye contact. you felt his hands wrap around the circumference of your upper arm, pulsing his grip to remind you how strong he was—that he was in control.

“you’re sick.” sungchan seethed.

you wordlessly nodded your head.

“you’re pathetic.” sungchan said.

you swallowed thickly and brought your hands to grasp at the sleeves of his shirt. instead of caressing the fabric your clutched it in your hands desperately and held on so tight you thought you were shaking. when you didn’t back down from sungchan’s degradation his look softened.

“what do you want from me?” sungchan asked.

your eyes grew even wider at his question. you had been chasing temporary fulfillment for so long you never stopped to consider what your end goal was. you knew what sungchan truly meant by his question, he wanted to know what it would take for you to leave his life and never come back. you truly didn’t know what it would take, what circumstance would make you leave sungchan alone? maybe he would have to be happy in the tiny world you handmade for him. maybe you had to be a part of his life in any capacity. maybe you had to die or be behind bars. what you wanted from him was insurmountable and was everlasting.

sungchan squeezed your arms hard. the pain made you audibly hiss and clutched at the sleeves of his coat even more. when you focused again on sungchan his eyes had gotten bigger and even more impatient waiting for your answer. he shook your arms for emphasis, and you shook your head.

“everything.” you said quickly.

“you want everything from me?” he asked.

sungchan spoke like he was giving you a chance to change your answer. he wanted you to turn into a babbling apologetic mess crying just let me go and i’ll never bother you again. he wanted you to seem apologetic, but the only thing you seemed sorry about was that this didn’t happen sooner.

you doubled down on your answer, nodding your head as sungchan loomed over you. you weren’t scared of him, when he let go of you for the second time your body leaned towards his touch.

“give me everything and maybe you’ll never hear from me again.” you reiterated.

sungchan looked down at you again and scoffed. who were you to demand anything from him? why was he considering to give it to you? he was in the city of love for the first time in his life arguing with someone who was ruining his life. sungchan was disgusted with himself for almost finding it romantic. how long had you been following him before he found out? how much of your savings did you spend to follow him out here? did you go to every single one of his shows? he knew you were a looming presence in his life, but he was moved by your devotion. when he’d hear your voice over his shoulder in the studio while recording. did he need you the same way you needed him? was there a world where your roles were reversed? where you were the famous one and he was the one following you around the world? in some sick way he understood you, sometimes the thought of you becoming someone else’s problem made his stomach sink.

sungchan tried his best to hide his thoughts behind a stone cold resolve but you still looked up at him smiling like you knew everything. your smirk disgusted him, the way you still reached for him made his stomach turn. he doesn’t know why he gripped your bare wrist and yanked you from the alley to flag down a taxi.

your feet lagged behind the rest of your body again at sungchan’s abrupt strength. you nearly lost your footing as you stumbled towards the road. you looked at the back of sungchan’s head, his black strands of hair that peaked from underneath his beanie. you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling at the sight of his hand wrapped around your wrist. you had forgotten what his touch felt like on your bare skin.

you were still off balance when sungchan opened the back of the taxi cab and guided you in first by your wrist. you stumbled into the seat ungracefully, bringing the attention from the driver to you. he looked in the rearview mirror, and you did your best to ignore him as you scooted to the other end of the taxi to make room for sungchan. he came into the back of the cab calmly, sitting down and buckling himself in.

“where to?” the driver said once sungchan closed the door.

the driver was still looking to you in the rearview mirror, cutting nervously to the man sitting on the opposite side of you. there was no way the driver didn’t see sungchan pull you from the alley and roughly usher you into the car. the act of being seen quickly became your goal instead of something you were actively trying to avoid. you hoped that everyone in the ninth arrondissement of paris saw sungchan dragging you around. with the drivers eye still on you, you looked to sungchan expecting him to tell the driver where to go.

sungchan only returned your confused gaze, even tilting his head to the side when you said nothing.

“you know where i’m staying right?” he said harshly.

you nodded and swallowed thickly before telling the driver where to go in an embarrassingly meek voice. when you were done you watched the driver hesitate for a moment before starting the meter and shifting the gears.

the ride back to sungchan’s hotel he kept his eyes trained outside the car. he looked at the passing lights and businesses that were closing down for the night. you didn’t bother to look at anything but him. occasionally you would twist your wrist that was still in his hold just to feel his hand tighten around it in warning. you uselessly pawed at his arm, baiting sungchan into displaying his strength again and again. if you were lucky it would leave a bruise.

the only time you looked away from sungchan was when the taxi crossed over the bridge. the whole city was lit up but the lights on the eiffel tower stole your attention. you looked out sungchan’s video to get a view of it, how everything seemed so small next to it. sungchan looked at you from his peripheral vision and a beat later he leaned back in his seat to give you a better view. you ignored it for his sake and flexed your hand in his grip again.

he didn’t let go of your wrist until you were in front of the hotel. he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door, not bothering to look back at you.

you clambered over the seats while sungchan paid, and when he was done he grabbed your wrist again and pulled you out of the car. you were used to the yanking and the force behind his pulls now, you were no longer stumbling on the ground and you kept up with him.

your clicking heels sounded on the brick walkway and the marble flooring of the lobby. you clicked behind his long strides and you basked in the stare of the hotel concierge as she looked up from her desk to watch sungchan pull you through the lobby. an elevator was waiting for you two when he pressed the up button, the metal doors opened to an empty car. just like with the cab sungchan led you in first by the grip he had on your wrist. you instinctually went to the corner of the elevator, watching him press the button to the eighth floor before repeatedly pressing the close button.

when the elevator doors closed sungchan only focused straight ahead. you were silent in the corner of the elevator, picking up his subtle hints that he needed you to be still.

the doors opened to the eighth floor and sungchan looked both ways before heading left. you followed behind him silently, trying to be mindful of your heels on the carpet of the hallway. you had no concept of what time it was now, but you could only imagine it was late. the roads were empty and it seemed like in all of paris only you and sungchan were awake.

when sungchan pulled his keycard from his back pocket you pulled in a breath. it was the loudest you had been since talking to him in the alley. sungchan tapped the keycard against the doorknob and you saw the red light flash green before he pushed it open.

you couldn’t even make it through the door before he pushed you against the wall. you realized in that moment that he was being gentle with you in the alleyway. your back hit the wall, and sungchan didn’t give you space to move as he came close to you.

instead of gripping your arms sungchan ghosted his hand over your neck, and instead of letting you tip your own head up to look at him he did it by pulling your hair. he got close to you, watching how you were completely at his mercy in this position. you should’ve been scared, both of you knew it. sungchan was capable of squeezing the life out of you then and there, some would argue he had the right to. but when sungchan looked into your eyes he didn’t see fear. what he saw was desperation that was so palpable he could taste it. you looked at him pitifully with eyes of want instead of terror, and you leaned into his threatening touch instead of pulling away.

sungchan wanted to see if he could scare you, maybe if he got a little closer you could see the anger in his eyes and if he squeezed around your soft neck your eyes would widen in shock. but as he got closer you only preened your lips closer to his and parted your lips when his nose pressed into yours. sungchan watched you press your hands flat against the wall, trying to lift yourself up to get closer to him. his lips were inches away and you shut your eyes and tilted your head in anticipation. sungchan watched you shake and get on your tiptoes to try and close the distance. he couldn’t take it anymore when he saw your tongue poke past your lips to wet them with spit. the habit you always had before kissing him made his reservations crumble. his hand left your neck and went to your jaw instead, closing the distance so fast your teeth bumped against his.

sungchan’s lips were soft against yours but his actions were rough. immediately he stuck his tongue into your mouth, laving your teeth and the sides of your mouth an an excess amount of spit. anytime you leaned or tilted your head the way he didn’t want he would tug at your hair. when you brought your hand from your side to try and paw at him sungchan let go of your jaw to press your wrist against the wall. you were still, essentially a puppet in his hands that only moved its lips in the way he wanted. when he leaned his body against yours to keep you against the wall you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning into his mouth.

sungchan pulled away completely at the vibration. both of your chests were rising and falling, and sungchan’s heavy breaths through his nose fanned your dewy skin. your coats that kept you warm in the paris winter only made sweat line the planes of your skin in the thick air of the room. you felt sweat forming in the small of your back and your hands were clammy and shaking as you experimentally reached towards the buttons of sungchan’s coat. when he didn’t snatch your wrist again you started pushing the buttons through the tiny slits of fabric.

sungchan’s hands clasped over your shoulders before he started working your fur coat off of you. your shivered under his touch and your hands started working quicker, sometimes fumbling with a button. sungchan was still slow, not bothering to push the coat down your arms until they were back at your side. he looked down at you as your thick coat fell to the floor, pooling at your feet.

when you were out, the air seemed to stand still. you heard the air conditioner kick back on somewhere in the room but it didn’t cool anything between you and him. you only shivered when sungchan ran a feather light touch up your arms until he got to the sleeve of your dress. he pinched the velvet fabric between his fingers. you shamelessly reached across to sungchan’s torso and started pressing your fingers against his stomach to feel the definition of his abs.

“you don’t wanna be seen but you wear this?” he asked while doing a once over of your body.

sungchan was unfazed as your hands became greedier. you pulled his tucked in shirt from his jeans and slipped your hands underneath. you shuddered again at being able to feel his warm and hard skin under your fingertips again.

while you were pawing at sungchan’s torso and pulling at his back he was calm and collected. he ran his hand over the top of your dress, following the square neckline that left your collarbones on full display. he trailed his hand to the center of your chest and pulled the fabric down. neither of you cared about the stretch or the chance your dress might tear. you only raised your chest, trying to put yourself on display for him as quick as possible.

the fabric of your dress stretched first before you heard the tear. you didn’t know where it was, all you knew was that your chest was exposed. sungchan’s hand left your hair to squeeze your flesh. he gripped so hard you felt the blunt tips of his fingernails dig into your skin. you squirmed from his harsh hold, pressing your head against the wall as you tried to not make a sound. sungchan looked from your chest to your eyes and let go to harshly pinch your nipple. from that you let out a whine of pain, your nails scratched the wall as you kept them pressed there.

“show me what you want.” sungchan said it directly in your ear, cherries and his cologne fanning the side of your face. “so i never have to see you again.” he whispered.

you pulled your shaky hand from the wall and guided his other hand to your chest. you pressed flat against his hand, hoping he remembered your silent cue that you needed him to touch you more. sungchan obliged, kneaded your skin the way he used to. you reached your hand to wrap behind his shoulder. it pulled him closer to you, and you arched your back until your chest pressed into his. you strained against the fabric of your dress, and you heard more tearing as you tried finding more room.

before you could reach behind your body to unzip the back sungchan’s hands left your tits and went to your legs. before you could whine from loss of contact he lifted you up. when you wrapped your legs around his waist, you were taller than him. you had forgotten what he looked like from up here, he couldn’t hide anything. the lamp showed his blown out eyes clearly, and caught on his glossy lips. you placed your hand on his cheek while you used the other to slowly pull his beanie off. you had been here before—the image of sungchan’s mussed hair and his needy eyes played in your mind like a movie. you brought your lips down to his hastily and he held your body just like he always used to.

you were so invested in the kiss, you slouched into him the same way you did to your journal, and you poured your all into him too. your hand that was placed gently on his cheek became desperate and clutched his face in a way that caused his lips to part and pucker. you stuck your tongue in sungchan’s mouth this time, subjecting yourself to the god awful wine and cigarettes that he apparently smoked now. one of sungchan’s hands left your thigh to press into your back. you couldn’t stop yourself from sighing contently feeling him respond to you.

you left sungchan meander around the room holding you up as you explored his mouth like it was the first time again. you were messier than him, letting your tongue swipe over the perimeter of his mouth before sucking on his bottom lip. sungchan let you, and he closed his eyes as he reached out a blind hand to find a surface to set you down on.

he settled for the area right night to the television. when sungchan’s hand found the surface he carelessly swiped his hand over the top, causing whatever rested on it to fall to the ground. both of you heard things from your bag thud against the carpet, but neither of you could be bothered. you were worried about getting sungchan undressed. while he slotted himself between your legs you pushed his long tweed coat off his shoulders. you were impatiently reaching for the bottom of his shirt before it could even hit the ground. sungchan pulled at the collar of his shirt before pulling it off completely. you let out another heavy sigh at his toned body.

you tried to block out the images of him flaunting his body around onstage just to hear the shrill cries of his audiences. none of them had the luxury to see sungchan like you did. you let your nails graze up his abs, but before you could reach his chest sungchan clasped a single hand over both of your wrists. you winced from the pain and let out a tiny sound from the shock. he was unfazed ass he kept both of your hands restricted to once side of your body.

sungchan didn’t respond to your furrowed eyebrows or your pouting lips. he only continued staring at you as his other hand creeped up your leg. you stopped trying to fight against his grip and spread your legs further when he made it to your underwear. he watched your eyebrows furrow even more as you subconsciously brought your lip between your teeth. he could tell you wanted him to draw out the pleasure, to tease you and maybe eat you out like he always used to. but sungchan was slowly getting used to treating you the way you deserved, even while giving you what you wanted. so instead of drawing shapes on your thigh or getting down on his knees he pushed past your underwear and stuck two fingers into your clenching hole. the sudden intrusion made you mewl and arch your back further. you felt sungchan stiffen from your abrupt and loud sound.

“be quiet.” he said sternly.

he pushed out an okay by plunging a third finger into your pussy. sungchan crooked his fingers and hit that spot you had been trying to reach for years. you had to bite your lip to keep quiet, the only chance you got to make a sound was when you leaned your head into sungchan’s chest. you let tiny sounds out against his skin, drowned out by the lewd sound of sungchan’s fingers interacting with your slick. when he picked up the pace the sound only got louder. you had to grip the edges of the surface you sat on to offset the sounds you so badly wanted to make.

“such a mess already,” sungchan’s hand tightened around your wrists as he focused bending his fingers inside of you. “how long were you waiting for this?” he asked sarcastically.

“so long.” you whined against his chest.

you were pathetically squirming from the pleasure as you continued to take it. you couldn’t bring yourself from sungchan’s chest to look him in the eyes, you were nowhere near strong enough. you could only press your face deeper into his solid chest as drool slipped past your lips.

“you gonna cum?” sungchan asked.

when you felt yourself hurtling towards an orgasm you started shaking your head against his chest quickly. sungchan first thought you were asking for more and started using the bottom of his palm to rub into your clit. he realized quickly that was too much, and you started pushing away from his hand by scooting backwards.

“what’s wrong?” sungchan asked.

his eyebrows were knitted in confusion as you weakly brought your head up from his chest. you sniffled and fought against his grip on you again. sungchan let you go as you tried composing yourself. he watched your shaky hands reach behind your back to pull the zipper of your dress down. you looked behind sungchan and he followed your gaze to his neatly made bed.

when he looked back at you you had the top half of your dress pulled down and your bra laying crumpled next to you. you got down from your temporary perch and let your dress fall to your feet. left in just your underwear and all of your glory you looked up to him.

“i need everything.”

sungchan wasted no time heeding your request. you were off the ground again in seconds, only this time you were thrown on the bed. you were a rag doll on top of the bed for a moment, your limbs still loose from the relief sungchan was giving you moments prior.

you only sat up slightly as sungchan stalked towards you, hands on the belt of his jeans as he stared you up and down. he pulled off his pants first, and you could hear the clatter of his belt buckle as he lifted his feet from the denim. he walked to the edge of the bed, looking down at your body already becoming littered with incoming bruises. how you managed to look like the victim was equal parts enticing and maddening. sungchan remembered the way the cab driver looked at you, silently asking if you were alright. sungchan quelled his frustrations by palming the back of your head and pushing your face towards his clothed dick. he was disgusted that you didn’t resist, in fact you only pressed your face further into the fabric of sungchans’ boxers. he felt his hair stand on end when he you took in a deep breath and close your eyes contently. he didn’t bother hiding his disgust when you opened your eyes to look at him.

“this is everything?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

you nodded quickly, moving towards the center of the bed to situate yourself on the white sheets. once you found your spot you slowly shimmied out of your panties while you looked to sungchan’s boxers expectantly.

slowly his hands went underneath the waistband of his pants and started working them down. he was slow, following down his small happy trail before stopping completely. this seemed to be the only torturing you responded to, because a whiny noise slipped past your swollen lips once sungchan stopped. you realized you made a mistake and bit your lip immediately afterwards, trying to find a calm expression that matched his.

sungchan continued dragging his boxers down, letting his dick catch on the elastic of the waistband so it bobbed after being freed. his dick was heavy and already leaking with precum. sungchan felt himself harden and twitch at your burning stare.

“flip over.” sungchan put his knee on the bed. “on your stomach.”

still looking at his dick you laid down and got on your stomach in one smooth motion. you perked your ass as far as it would go when you felt sungchan’s body weight cause a dip in the bed on both sides of your legs. he propped himself up by his hands on either side of your shoulder and you felt his heavy dick rest on the swell of your ass. you gasped from the feeling and found a deeper arch in attempt to chase the warmth. sungchan moved a hand to your ass to get you in place, and you sighed once before following the order of his hand.

you felt the same hand go to grab the base of his dick and slapped it on the same place his hand was previously. you pressed your face into the mattress, trying to calm your heart that was thudding in your chest. sungchan guided his dick lower and lower, letting his tip prod your entrance. you drew in a breath, feeling like you might suffocate yourself against the duvet of sungchan’s hotel bed. you heard a light you leave his lips, cut off by a sudden intake of breath. your heart swelled at the thought of sungchans’ instinct of wanting to check up on you, and it erupted across your body when he slid in all the way.

you lifted your head from the mattress, a pathetic sound caused by the stretch and pleasure leaving your lips. you rocked back against sungchan when he pulled out, messing up his rhythm from your impatience. he left out a curse as he pushed your body into the mattress. one of your hands found sungchan’s wrist as he lowered his body down to yours. you felt the air get pushed out of you for a moment while sungchan experimented with how much of his body weight to lean on you. you wanted him to give you all of it, you wanted to feel the crush and the air get squeezed out of your lungs because of him. you decided you asked for enough when you felt sungchan deep in your stomach again.

“this is everything, right?” sungchan asked, punctuating each word with a thrust.

“right.” you said while nodding.

you pressed the side of your face into the pillow to try and see him. the momentum fucked your body further into the mattress, and you dug your nails into sungchan’s wrist that you held onto for stability. when sungchan finally registered the pain he pulled wrist from your grasp. when you pathetically searched for something to grab sungchan clasped his hand it over the back of yours. his hold was bone crushing. your fingers were poking out straight between the gaps in his fist.

“don’t touch me.” sungchan pressed his body closer to yours, the sweat keeping his chest glued to your back. “just cum for me already.” he said.

anytime you tried to speak, sungchan would grind his hips against your ass. the pressure of his bodyweight was almost suffocating, and each thrust pushed out a gasp of breath from you. sungchan settled even further into you, propping his other arm on his elbow next to your body.

first it was only you slightly moving your face towards his hand. you told yourself you were trying to find a better angle underneath sungchan’s thrusts and to get a better view of him. you tried to follow sungchan’s order of not touching him, you really did—but seeing his fist press in the mattress with his veins bulging from the exertion right next to your face made you reach out to him. you kissed the butt of his palm first, and waited for his reaction. sungchan faltered for a moment, his hips pulling away from you completely. you followed his hips and whined, pulsing around the part of his dick that stayed inside of you.

sungchan pushed your body back down to the mattress with a hard thrust. his skin slapped against yours and you cried out. you were forced to moan and babble around his fingers as he pushed two of his digits in past your parted lips. sungchan rested his face against the back of your head, letting his heavy pants out against your hair and scalp. your hand that wasn’t being held by his fisted the sheets. after sungchan pulled away from your head you could hear him above you laugh.

“you look so pathetic right now.” he sneered.

you continued to suck on his fingers by hallowing your cheeks and moaning. he pressed his fingers deeper into your mouth almost making you gag.

“following me across the world just to get fucked is a new low.” sungchan’s clear words devolved into grunts as he started thrusting into you at a faster pace.

your whole body reacted to sungchan’s jabs. your walls started erratically seizing around his dick and your hand began clawing at the sheets to ground yourself. you even tried clenching your fist that sungchan still held onto. you felt your whole body getting higher and higher, but your peak seemed just out of reach. you needed more, you were missing the final piece to having everything.

you couldn’t put it into words but only through body language. when you felt sungchan looking down at you and his quick grunts fanned your check you started weakly preening the side of your face to his lips.

“please.” you whimpered around his fingers.

you heard him let out a tiny moan above you when he realized what you were asking for. he covered it up with another taunting laugh. he ghosted his lips above the apples of your cheeks and pulled away just to hear you mewl again. your head fell back back down to the mattress.

as the last bit of strength left your body, sungchan’s power increased tenfold. when the last bit of your arch crumbled sungchan took it in stride, bending his legs so yours were pushed up further.

the new angle made you cry out, and you lifted your front off the bed to press your back into sungchan’s chest. you felt his smirk against your neck before he pressed his lips to your clammy skin. his ruts against you were becoming sporadic, and from the tiny bit of affection you felt yourself coming undone. sungchan trailed sloppy kisses from your neck to your cheek, occasionally sucking on your skin and leaving a trail of spit behind. you started pushing your hips back and sucking harder on sungchan’s fingers. in the last moment he pulled them from your mouth and replaced it with his lips. you had to crane your neck uncomfortably and sungchan had to sacrifice fucking into you the way he wanted but it was the last thing you needed.

your body ascended and you started shaking underneath sungchan, he pushed into you one last time before a shudder took over his full body and he let out a shaky moan into your mouth. you were whining in between his kisses, barely able to reciprocate as he kept going.

for a moment you had everything. you were sated and content, you finally felt full and warm after your everlasting hunger. but as you were basking in the glory sungchan abruptly let go of your hand and stopped your jerking hips. he took away the pleasure, and ignored your whine from lose of contact. sungchan’s breath was labored but he still pulled out of you, his dick softening after his orgasm. you wanted him to stay inside like he used to before, and caress your cheeks while telling you how good you felt. you had none of that, sungchan separated his hot body from yours and got up from the bed completely.

you were left in the crater on the mattress while sungchan took groggy steps towards the bathroom.

when the water started running, you realized how nasty you felt. you were still sweaty, your hair felt out of place and everything was sticky. warmth spilled out from between your thighs and you felt the sungchan’s spit dry on your skin. you waited there still, trying to will your worked limbs to move.

sungchan came from the bathroom with a towel around his waist. he had a toothbrush in his mouth and worked vigorously in between him grabbing your clothes and throwing them next to your body. you were cold at the lack of tenderness in his movements. his refusal to look at you made you silent and you finally moved from your place on the mattress to reach for your dress.

sungchan watched you quietly put your clothes back on from his spot beside the bed. he said nothing when you needed him to the most. he didn’t apologize for breaking up with you, he didn’t thank you for nurturing his career, he didn’t ask you to stay. he only looked at you, impatience coming off of him in waves. when you took too long he tapped on his phone to wake it up.

“your cab is waiting outside.” he said evenly.

now it was you who refused to look at sungchan. you started getting dressed faster and climbed off the bed, ignoring the stiffness in your joints. you walked to your coat and put it on quickly, adjusting the way it laid on your body but lifting your shoulders. when you felt sungchan still staring you quickly stuffed your bra and underwear into the pockets and started making your way towards the door.

for the second time that night, sungchan followed closely behind you until you made it to the door. he reached his arm behind you, pulling the door open.

the hallway in front of you was cold and the night waiting for you outside seemed even colder. you hesitated in the entryway of sungchan’s hotel room, praying that he would change his mind and let you back in. his hand on the small of your back didn’t comfort you as he slowly pushed you further out the door.

when in the hallway, you turned around to look back at him. you had to blink to stop the tears from bracketing your vision, but seeing sungchan’s stoic expression caused a single tear to flow freely.

he reached his hand forward, and you thought for a moment sungchan would comfort you. you thought about him squeezing your hand or rubbing the raw skin of your wrist. he only reached forward to the pocket of your jacket and fished around until he felt your balled up underwear. your eyes widened but sungchan still remained stoic as he fisted the fabric and pulled it from your pocket. he leaned on the door and lowered his head until he was eye level with you.

“you better pray i never see you again.”

sungchan slammed the door shut so hard that the momentum made you lean your body back.

you walked down the hallway in shock. your feet dragged behind you, the threat in sungchan’s words rung in your ear. you stared at the pattern of the carpet underneath your feet as you walked towards the elevator. you felt the empty pit in your stomach open up again. in the reflection of the elevators metal doors you watched an uncontrollable smile spread across your face.

#seriez: rock the house #01zfan: sungchan #sungchan smut #riize smut

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kanmom51 · 4 months ago

Text

WHO JM

This is going to be a bit of a ramble of thoughts on my part. It took me around 24 hrs. to take it all in.

Before I start talking about everything, I do want to thank my good friends, you know who you are, with which we had these discussions and back and forth trying to figure it out. Said it once and will say it again: Love you guys!!!

And on that note, let's get to it.

I'm still trying to wrap my head around everything we got with Who, not to mention the whole Muse concept, the configuration of the album, the order of the songs.

Unlike Face this is less of a autobiographical album. This is more about a concept. We have the connecting thread from Face to Muse through Rebirth (Oh, I'm gonna talk about that song for sure). Then we go into Interlude: Showtime, leading into SGMB and then Slow dance, Be mine, Who and Closer than this in that order. Interlude showtime being the switch from personal (ME) to showtime/performance (US) perhaps. A show themed around love. And an interesting thing happens when you look at the placement of the songs. First of all, Who, the only song JM isn't credited for writing, is last. Then, and this to me is the interesting part of it, the songs go from SGMB having that love, being sure of it, wanting even to help others find it as the first song you hear all the way back to searching for that unattainable love (Who). Starting the story from the end, when love is found, rather than from the beginning when love is being searched for. Starting from the happy ending. And if you do want to link it to his own story (not sure it is, but for funsies) then it's basically going back chronologically. SGMB is the now JM, the happy one who found love, while Who is the JM who didn't even know what he was looking for, or more so Who he was looking for. And if we are already going in that direction than basically going full circle with Face in the sense of Face being in chronological order of things and Muse mirroring it in the sense of going present to past rather than past to present (yes, I definitley did not major in arts and it shows, lol).

Let's talk about Who now.

First thing first, once again, and thank you for that amazing post, I'm going to link to @andy-wm's post right here. Because basically it says most of what I wanted to convey, and as usual, written so so well.

You would think this is all about a guy looking for a girl, right?

NOT.

More so a guy looking for love, thinking that it's in a girl's image. "HER". @andy-wm explained it beautifully. I am going to emphasise a couple of points and/or add to them.

No. It's not just you. Although I do admit, it took me several reads and re-reads to have that eureka moment. When you take in the full picture. It's there.

JM is looking for someone. In his head he thinks it's meant to be a girl. That's what society has told him. That's what is expected of him. That's what makes sense to him. Again, in his head.

And yet, his heart, it's still searching.

And he continues to search but he isn't finding 'her'.

First the use of "think" again. The mind thinking versus the heart finding.

And pay attention to the lyrics: "If every day I think about her..."

Not "Every day I think about her..."

The way I see it, this is again about challenging society's expectations of him. If he's doing it right, if he's thinking about finding 'her' every day of his life, then why hasn't he found her? And the emphasis is on the question why, repeated multiple times.

He's asking why not how. And why do I think that means something?

Think about it for a second.

If he's looking for her every day, thinking about her all the time, wouldn't the question be "how is it that I haven't I found her?" But by asking "why haven't I found her", it feels more so like "am I doing something wrong here? Why isn't this working?" Perhaps because the Who he's looking for, the Who his heart is looking for, is not a "her"?

And this kind of disconnect between what his mind thinks he is looking for - "her", and what his heart is looking for "who", continues throughout the song.

Another thing I noticed, and I don't know if it means anything, is the repeat of the number five in the song.

That second one hit me the first time I heard the song. Why? Why count to five? So random. And yes, I know it could mean absolutely nothing, and yet, it is curious why we get these two fives.

So I went looking what the number five could mean, cause we know numbers do mean something to them.

On my search I found this:

And this is about this piece of art:

The name of that piece of that famous piece of art: "Sun, Moon and Five Peaks".

And this:

The sun and moon are incarnations of yin and yang and symbols of brightness. The five peaks represent the center of the Earth and correspond to the sky and the seat of the king, who is the Son of Heaven. The number five is significant, as it is the midpoint of the decimal system.

Another coincidence?

Then there is what the number 5 symbolises spiritually (not specific to Korean culture):

Was this on purpose? This is one of those things I really don't know. And yet...

But again, we have to remember that this is the only song on JM's album that he isn't credited for being part of the lyrics writing.

And yet, we know that he did sit with John Belian telling him what the story was he wanted him to tell.

We don't know just how much of it is JM and what he wanted to convey, at least with the lyrics. We don't know just how much say JM had in the direction the MV went in, but it does feel like at least some of these things we are seeing are not pure coincidence and are intentional, for example the next thing I want to talk about.

Let's talk about the falling billboard screen for a sec.

The timing of it falling, the WHO without the question mark, the why...

JM is singing, dancing, the storm is brewing, wind blowing, he sings about "her" and then asks: "who is my heart waiting for?"

The dancers split up, and he starts walking towards us and this falls from the sky:

"Who is my heart waiting for?"

It has a blue frame that breaks apart (perhaps symbolising how this love is framed differently or that the barrier that was there between them now broke - yes, pure drivel on my part, but let me have this, I'm really enjoying it, lol).

This is who, is what the screen is screaming out!!!

"keep going" it tells him, as he's walking in it's direction.

But the screen, it's facing us. We can see it, but he can't see it yet.

He is walking in it's direction but still oblivious to what it's showing him.

Another thing I noticed there is that the screen falls from the sky but doesn't collapse or break or topple over. It stands there, strong and stable. Just as strong and stable that love is. The Real love he talks about in Rebirth. And then we cut to the next scene. We don't see what happens when JM comes closer in. Does he see it? Does he see Who?

Thank you @theendiswherewestarted for sending me the next couple of links I want to address.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by 🌞La_93🌜 (@jikook_la93)

instagram

This one I noticed myself - the colours of that fire stood out to me, seeing as they were different from other fires on screen.

The Yellow purple that we also got in the poster question mark.

The way the signs are basically around him (the fire, the screen), but he passed them by unnoticed, perhaps because of how he perceives his love is meant to look like. It's a she, not a he, and even if it is on fire or on a neon sign, something he should be noticing, he just doesn't.

The second is this:

I have seen some that noticed this and I admit, it took me a very long time to see the face (some saw a face in smoke in the teaser as well), but I have to admit, it does look like a face. Could it be JK? Idk. Is this intentional? Well, it doesn't look like the actual smoke, it does look like a projection or add-on, so... I guess this one I'm going to leave as a question mark. A possibility.

But this one, I'm feeling the need to go back to this one because this is just WOW...

I am aware there are those that claim it to be another member. All I will say that they are wrong.

Also want to thank @lastride1981 for your ask.

And then the MV ends with this:

You know, if we didn't get the message just yet (which I can assure you many didn't), then let's end it with rainbows. Yes, that is who your heart is waiting for!!!

Nothing JM does is not thought about, is not intentional.

And that rainbow at the end is again one more of those things!!

As I said, not everything is intentional. But a. saying not everything is intentional inherently means some of it is. and b. this is JM we are talking of. The master of layering his art.

This is art. Intended for us to ponder about. It's up for interpretation. Even a song with rather simple lyrics like Who, especially with a MV attached to it and JM being the artist behind the two.

So this here is how I see it. My interpretations. Sharing them with you.

#JM Muse #JM Who #PJM2 #JM Who MV #Jikook #Kookmin #Minkook #Jungkook #Jimin #JM #JK #Instagram

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watermelonsugacry · 1 year ago

Note

Could you do a blurb showing how Harry and 1dbandmate!yn reacted over the years when asked in interviews if they were a couple?? please 🙏

Always Asked

A/N: been in a writing funk lately but i'm happy i got this one done since i miss writing and posting to you all!! 💚

SUMMARY: Snippets of interviews over the years from when YN and Harry were asked if they were dating. (3.4k)

GENRE: 1dbandmate!yn, famous!yn

SINCE 2010 masterlist

2011:

Never in a million years did YN ever think her dream career would start so soon. It’s only been a year since she auditioned for the XFactor and now she’s sitting at a table next to her bandmates as hundreds of fans go down the line to get a copy of their freshly signed album.

With copious amounts of screaming comes along an abundance of questions thrown at the teenagers. Most of the time, it’s YN giving the screaming fans a beautiful smile, asking them how they are, and thanking them for their kind words before passing the signed CD case to Harry. With all the excitement in the air, she feels like she’s truly living the pop star lifestyle she’d seen many others live out.

“Hiya, love,” YN smiles at the preteen girl who’s practically vibrating with excitement at seeing the famous band. She also gives a polite greeting to the supportive dad of the young girl who has his hands on his daughter’s shoulders. “How are you? I love your shirt.”

She compliments, smiling at seeing the young girl wearing a shirt with YN’s face on it.

“My dad got it for me for my birthday!” The little fan beams.

“Did he?” YN animatedly gasps with a smile. “Well, it was nice of him to take you over here, yeah?”

She signs the CD case with a heart over her name before sliding it over to Harry. His fingers brush over hers and the two of them catch each other’s gaze. A smile tugs on their lips before looking away just as quickly.

“Are you two dating?” The young girl practically screams out, her eyes bouncing back and forth excitedly between YN and Harry.

The two teenagers tense up, thrown off by the question in such a crowded place. Their management team is still media-training them and while they’ve learned so much already, they’re still getting used to taking what they’ve learned out into the field.

YN and Harry give each other a look, already knowing the answer but searching in one another’s eyes for maybe a smidge of something more.

“Lilly!” The dad scolds before letting out a chuckle. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” YN shakes her head with a smile, hoping it's convincing enough to not cause any suspicion. “Sorry Lilly, but Harry and I aren’t dating because quite frankly—” She beckons the little fan closer, cupping her mouth but still being loud so her bandmate can hear, “—he has cooties.”

Harry’s immediately furrowing his brows together and lets out a long and playful, “Hey!”

“Ew!” Lilly laughs, seeming satisfied with that answer before waving goodbye and walking towards the rest of the band.

Before they can dwell on what just happened, thankfully the next fan shuffles over for their own interaction and signed copy.

2012:

The band is at their first Brits Awards show and needless to say, they all got a little tipsy after their win. Their team didn’t even have time to give them a snack or water bottle to help sober them up a little bit before their backstage press interviews.

“Harry, how will you guys be celebrating tonight?” A journalist asks from the crowd.

“Erm,” Harry giggles to himself and it makes YN tipsily follow from her spot next to him. The hand that isn't gripping onto their award goes to cover her smile. “I think we’re just gonna hang out and stuff.”

“YN? Is there any lucky man whom you will be celebrating with?” Another voice in the sea of reporters asks.

“Nope,” YN raises her eyes with a tipsy smile and a slow shake of her head. She shakes her thumb towards her boys with a click of her tongue. “Just these lads.”

“Any lucky lad in particular? Perhaps a curly-headed one standing next to you?”

Almost as if it was planned, the two teenagers comically look beside each other, cranking their necks in playful search of who the intrusive lady was referring to.

“Me?” Harry dramatically questions, pointing to his chest with a bright, open-mouthed, dimpled smile gracing his face.

“Well, I mean he is part of the band, is he not?” YN sassily purses her lips together, her media-training to retain her “good girl” image slipping out of her alcohol induced brain.

Thankfully, before anything could be escalated further by the tipsy girl, the intrusive press, or the snickering boys, a member from their management team instructs the audience to move onto another person.

2013:

“You guys have known each other for what seems like forever now and your bond with the rest of the guys is so strong...”

YN reaches forward for a sip from her glass of water on the panel table in her seat in between Harry and Niall. It’s been a long week for the band as they do press for their new movie, This Is Us. They’ve been thrown left and right with interviews that YN can’t help but already be done with the repetitiveness of some of the questions.

“So then we’re all clearly curious to know if you and Harry are dating?”

“Nope,” YN pops the ‘P’ and shakes her head as if her actions were automatically programmed to respond in that way. She casually waves her finger between the two boys beside her, “But him and Niall are though.”

The crowd of press people laugh and chuckle as they see Naill gasp and Harry raise his eyebrows in playful shock.

“I mean, you kinda pointed it out,” YN puts on her media-trained smile good enough to win an Oscar. “These lads are like my brothers and our bond is so strong because we see each other more like family than anything else. I see them more as annoying than someone I'd rather date, to be honest,” she forces out a light laugh.

“Plus, as YN so kindly pointed out,” Harry leans on his elbows on the table as he looks to his crush next to him. YN can see his dimple dig into his cheek as he fights off a smirk. “M’happily in a committed relationship with Niall.”

Harry doesn’t take his eyes off of his bandmate as he leans back into his seat. He watches as she tucks her chin into her chest, her fingers rubbing over her lips to cover her giggle as the rest of the room breaks out in commotion.

2014:

“Can we assume that the rock on your finger is from a certain curly-headed lad?” The woman who’s interviewing them for the band’s new book Who We Are excitedly asks.

The band are all sat on an L-shaped couch as they discuss the contents of the hard cover book. Sat in between Zayn and Niall, YN purposely avoids her gaze from Harry as she answers.

“No,” YN lets out a forced chuckle as she looks down to fidget with the diamond ring on her finger. Anyone who has looked at more than three pictures of YN can tell that her favorite pieces of jewelry are her assortment of rings along her fingers. But only true fans know that part of her liking to the small jewelry is to help her fidget with them when she has anxiety. It’s an odd feeling however that the newly gifted one has been the cause of her increase in nerves. “It’s um, from me boyfriend—well, fiancé now—Matthew. Harry is like a brother to me so that would be quite weird.”

“Of course! I was only teasing, love.” The woman laughs with an over-exaggerated smile, clearly disappointed in the answer she was given. “Congratulations to you both.”

“Thank you,” YN forces a smile, still twisting at the shiny ring that sticks out like a sore thumb.

2015:

“YN.”

“James.” She says with the same amount of playful seriousness, the audience in front of them laughs along. As the date of the band’s long-awaited hiatus comes closer and closer, their good friend James Corden interviews them in the same location where they filmed the music video for Story of My Life.

“Harold,” the host directs his attention to the band member sitting next to her.

The fans in the crowd only giggle in giddiness even further as Harry playfully throws a hand up in confusion with what the fans call his ‘frog’ smile.

“Now, we are all truly devastated when we heard the news that you and your long-time partner had called it quits a couple of weeks ago.” The audience laughs when James comically shakes his head no. YN even lets out a laugh when she sees the fans in the audience cheer at the news of her new relationship status. Despite the support she feels from the fans, it doesn’t necessarily calm the nerves at why the host brought the topic up in the first place. “Now we’re also all wondering if this may have possibly opened up, I don’t know, an opportunity for you to seek something with another lad?”

“Um,” YN lazily holds her microphone to her lips as she gives James the news that will hopefully shut down the conversation. “I think m’gonna just focus on myself for a bit. Yeh know, take a break from dating and all that.”

The room breaks out into chuckles when the host makes noises like he doesn’t believe her. He wags his interview cards in the air as he says, "I mean, both of your writing credits on some love songs tell me otherwise..."

Truthfully, the two friends can't deny that logic. They've either individually or co-wrote a plethora of love songs...that may or may not have been about each other. But will they ever admit that to a room full of their fans who have been shipping them since their XFactor days? Hello no.

“Well, the beauty that YN and I see in music is that songs are always up for interpretation," Harry interjects. "They can mean anything you want them to be, in any sort of scenario.”

“Yeah, like, lyrics don’t always necessarily have to come from a place of experience,” YN adds on, professionally keeping her voice from wavering in nervousness. “It certainly helps but that’s not always the case. Especially now.”

She can’t help but laugh along with the rest of the crowd as James holds an expression like he doesn’t believe a word they said.

“Okay, fine. Deny it all you want,” James puts his hands up defensively. “I just...I don’t know, I just think that this could really be Something Great.”

The room of fans (and die hard ynrry shippers) squeal and scream out in a mixture of excitement and disbelief from his use of the One Direction songs that are heavily speculated to be about YN and Harry.

“Whatever, it’s your guy’s decision at the End of the Day,” James continues nonchalantly, trying to hide the smile that shows that he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Fans’ eyes bounce back and forth between the two band members in question. They see as YN has her hands clasped together on her crossed legs, biting the inside of her cheek to keep her witty comments to herself. Harry, on the other hand, leans his elbow on his knee with his index finger over his smirk. He tries to cover up his chuckle with a cough to his fist before pushing back his long curls.

“All we want is for you guys to live Happily ever after, is all.”

2017:

“Now, both of you little sneaky sneaks went to Jamaica together to make his album. Come on, tell me I’m wrong,” Nick Grimshaw teases, wiggling his fingers in a beckoning motion.

The two were currently on BBC Radio with their good friend that they’ve known since their days in the band. Dropping their first solo albums in the same week caused their fan bases to go into a frantic frenzy. The two have a full day ahead of them as their record labels and management teams paired the two up for a day jam-packed with press and interviews together.

“You are not wrong,” Harry laughs, adjusting the chunky headphones over his ears. He’s already rolled up his white button-up sleeves and discarded his picnic table-looking blazer to lay on the back of his chair.

“Sneaky sneaks?” YN chuckles next to him, leaning her elbows on the counter and moving her hips to rotate her swiveling seat from side to side.

“Well, I only say that because you guys are obviously dating now, right?”

“Do girl and guy best friends always have to be dating?” YN easily swerves the question back to the radio host.

“Well,” Grimmy tilts his head from side to side. “Not necessarily, but wouldn’t that be a good story? For your future kiddos perhaps?”

YN and Harry bark out a laugh.

“Sorry, m’getting ahead of myself. Maybe you lads would want to save that for your wedding day instead.”

“Can I swear on the radio?” YN playfully yet genuinely asks the host which makes Harry giggle.

“But I mean, what are your fans—and quite frankly, the rest of the world—supposed to think when a good majority of the songs on his album are about you, Miss Two Ghosts?” Nick teases with a wiggle of his eyebrow.

YN’s jaw humorously drops, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as a nervous laugh threatens to escape. The two knew that they would get poked and pried with questions and accusations like this since their trip to Jamaica. There’s no use in trying to deny their close relationship with one another, spending more time with one another than any of their fellow band members since the start of the hiatus.

Unable to quickly come up with an explanation, being so caught off guard, she turns to the only other person she can trust.

“Jenny?” YN playfully calls for her manager who’s behind the glass window of the radio studio, leaning forward to look at her despite Harry in the way.

“Help me, Jeffery,” Harry playfully pleads to his manager as well.

“No, no Jeffery. Jenny, get back in your chair, young lady.” Nick points out for the listeners who can’t see what’s currently happening. “Alright, I’ll stop, I’ll stop,” The host waves his hands, seeing the two visually calm down at the news. “Now, I’ll just play the one Harry wrote about YN. This is Two Ghosts!”

Harry playfully yells out an “Oh, no!” as he pushes himself away from the desk. YN lets out a humored scream at the same time, taking off her chunky radio headphones and tossing them onto the desk.

2020:

“Okay, a big question that I’ve been getting on Twitter since it was announced that the two of you would be on here today,” Roman Kemp waves a hand in front of him at the Capital FM Breakfast Radio headquarters as he looks onto the two pop stars in front of him on the Zoom call. The couple can be seen in two separate rooms: Harry in a naturally lit room while YN sits against one of the brick walls in her bedroom.

Harry has his purple robe on that his girlfriend gifted him a couple of years ago, looking as comfy as ever since he doesn’t have to get dressed up to go outside for anything lately due to being on lockdown.

YN on the other hand, didn’t want to miss the opportunity to get dolled up. Well, at least from the waist up. She wears one of her silk button-up blouses with her last name embroidered on the left chest, her hair neatly done up in a slick ponytail and her make-up nicely done. When she got complimented on her look, she clumsily lifted her leg up to show off her heart-decorated, fluffy pajama pants.

“And I feel like both of your fan bases combined would come out of quarantine to quite literally murder me if I don’t ask you guys this...” YN and Harry keep a mutual face on as they wait to hear what the host has to say. “We all know that you guys are an official couple now, but are you guys physically staying together at the moment? Like, are you guys living together or at the same house or...?”

The couple takes a second to process the intimate question. As Harry parts his lips to answer, he’s interrupted by his girlfriend speaking first.

“Y’know, we’re kind of tired of getting questions like this. I don’t think it’s really appropriate for other people to know about that kind of stuff,” The crease between YN’s eyebrows becomes more apparent and her shoulders move sharply after letting out a deep sigh.

“Oh, I-I’m so sorry if I offended you guys—” The radio host quickly begins to retract.

“M’sorry but I think m’actually gonna log off now. Erm, thank you for having us.” YN curtly nods before the host and Harry’s faces fill the screen, both with wide eyes at the unexpected reaction from the go-happy pop star.

“Wait, did that really just happen?” Roman and the other two interviewers are deers in headlights, his eyes bouncing around the screen to make sure what just took place.

“I think so,” Harry sighs. “It’s just a sensitive topic for us, y’know. I can’t really blame her for what she did,” He professionally hides his smile as he hears the quick pad of footsteps coming down her spiral staircase.

“I really meant no harm, it’s just—”

“It’s just really hard to keep our private life private, you know?” Harry drags on with a deep sigh. “And it's just really hard for us to have to answer things like this. Like, we don’t really know what you guys expect us to do when...” Harry’s dimples dig into his cheeks, a boyish giggle comes tumbling past his lips when YN peaks her head sideways in front of his laptop camera.

“YN!” Romans scolds with a bright smile, infinitely relieved he didn’t just make enemies with the world’s favorite female pop star. He dramatically throws a hand over his heart.

“Sorry, I’m sorry! It was just too good and Ro, I think you’re the only one that would be able to handle a joke like that.” YN laughs as she slides in close to her comfy-looking boyfriend.

“So I’m assuming this confirms my previous question?” The host asks excitedly.

“Yeah,” Harry smiles fondly at his love, discreetly wrapping an arm around her waist that’s low enough to not be shown on camera. “We’ve been living at YN’s place in LA for a couple of weeks now. And yeah, it’s been fun.”

2022:

In a full black suit, Harry is escorted to the next interviewer on the red carpet for the premiere of My Policeman. After a couple of initial questions, the eager woman asks, “Last thing before you get whisked away, on behalf of the fandom and everyone else on this planet, we just want to send a massive amount of love to you and YN.”

“Thank you very much,” He nods, putting a hand over his heart and trying his hardest to keep the growing smile on his face at bay.

“And we are all just dying to know,” She takes a quick, excited glance back to the camera. “If you’re going to drop the big question soon?”

Harry can’t help but huff out a laugh, the kind where his dimples dig into his cheeks and the crows feet appear next to his eyes. If they only knew that YN kept the ring he gave her—the ring that signifies their promise to become husband and wife on their anniversary—at home for the sake of privacy and for this very reason.

“Um,” He looks up in fake contemplation before giving her a cheeky shrug. “I dunno. Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows?”

“Well, best of luck to you both.”

After being escorted away, the camera doesn’t stop filming Harry as he goes over to stand next to his fiancée on the red carpet. Although the camera can’t pick up what YN says to Emma Corin that makes the actress laugh, her beaming smile turns to Harry when she feels his hand on her back. He can’t hold back from planting a loving peck on her cheek before the two are escorted to their next section on the red carpet.

2023:

On a show in Cardiff, Harry adjusts a flag on his shoulder as he walks around the catwalk on stage. As he begins to sing Satellite, he makes a stop to sing to a group by the barricade.

It’s nothing new to YN and Harry’s respective shows when fans bring signs with something on it to get the artists’ attention. Honestly, it’s become one of the parts of the show they look forward to the most.

So when Harry’s eyes move over to a newly raised sign that says ‘shag?’ on it, he breaks out into a smirk. Part of the fun of when fans bring signs is that there’s always a handful that asks these sorts of questions: Are you single? Can I have your number? Are you dating?

It’s not so much the content written on the signs that makes the interaction so enjoyable; it’s the response that he gives.

Because all Harry does is break out into that dimpled, love sick smile that YN can’t get enough of and happily points to his wedding band.

Taglist:

@ashtongivesmebutterflies @cacapeepee

(let me know if you want to be added to the taglist 💚)

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shirakow · 8 months ago

Text

˗ˏˋ꒰ summary ꒱ ; he wanted to practice kissing with you .

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍇 pair ⋅ ˚✮ ; Rody Lamoree x GN!reader . College AU pre dp

. . . words ; 1.2k+

WARNINGS ! semi-nsfw, like one mention of addiction, whiney rody, and also no genitals or gendered terms used !

⁺ ⛧ ; i made this instead of continuing to make my reviewer for like 5 tests tomorrow. Someone wish me luck and maybe I'll pop out another vincent x reader by saturday ^3^ love you guys endlessly . Also made this while listening to the an evening with silk sonic album. Def worked for motivation

"Please?" Rody begged on his knees in front of you, his eyes pleading you for help as he clasped his hands together in a praying manner like you were his God.

You could only sigh and shake your head, "Fine. I'll practice kissing you." You murmured a bit shyly. Despite being incredibly against the idea —not that you would mind—you were just nervous because Rody was literally asking you to kiss him.

Actually, the term he used was make out but that's too embarrassing to think about.

It hit you in the wrong way because you were best friends, that's all you've ever thought of him. Sure you were glad he was comfortable enough to ask you for tips on this, but hands on teaching? Consider yourself fucked!

Perhaps there were lingering feelings in the back of your head that you never paid any mind to as you were never this nervous for a damn kiss.

Rody's eyes immediately lit up at the agreement, even if a bit hesitant. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," he tackled you into a hug, pushing you down on the couch with his full weight flush against yours.

You smacked the back of his head multiple times to get him off before he could crush you, which he did thankfully. The two of you sat faced to face, the way Rody twiddled with his fingers did not go unnoticed by your keen eyes.

"If you're nervous, you could just back out now while we still haven't done anything." Who were you kidding? By the looks of it you were even more nervous than him! By the way your feet couldn't help but bounce itself on the ground whilst you anxiously waited for his answer.

"I'm not nervous! I'm just embarrassed..."

"Same thing you nut job." You quipped with a sigh.

"Just, come on." If he wasn't gonna initiate it, then you'll do it. You could tell how much this meant to Rody, or else he wouldn't have asked you in the first place.

Because if there was one thing that Rody hated in the world aside from cleaning: it was to burden others. Besides, he's done so much for you in the past, it's only right you pay him back even if with a mere peck on the lips.

You scooted closer to Rody, your knees brushing against one another as you placed your hands on his chest. He looked down at you with his blush growing more prominent, yet you only did nothing but stare at him. "W-What're you looking at?" The almighty Rody Lamoree stuttered.

"Backing out?" You teased with a small chuckle. A grumbled curse erupted from his throat and before you knew it, his lips were against yours.

Well that was surprising.

They were soft, tentative, and more importantly: incredibly gentle. It was like he was trying to learn for his own gain but prioritizing your comfort at the same time, which was quite lovely if you do say so yourself.

Your hands on his chest moved up to caress his jaw, then his neck, then his cheek, and finally his hair which earned an unexpected whine from Rody. You fought back a smile that threatened to form on your face at the sound, and he could easily tell as your lips were connected after all.

Rody mumbled a quiet 'shut up' that was immediately drowned out when he kissed you deeper. But you noticed it was too sloppy. This caused you to pull away slightly, leaving only an inch between your lips that Rody fought to keep closed by the way he chased after you.

You put a finger against his plush lips which in turn earned another whine from the male in front of you. "Calm down big guy... Don't rush, or else you'll chase away the person you're pining for." You whispered breathlessly, and Rody pursed his bottom lip out like a pleading dog.

"I'll... I'll try..." He grumbled as you put your hand back down to his shoulder. Rody pressed his lips against yours once more, starting off slow, and gradually growing deeper like you instructed him to.

He grazed his teeth against your bottom lip, the feeling making your breath hitch. Noticing your reaction, Rody decided to tread the waters and gently bit your lip, before pulling on it while maintaining hazy eye contact.

"Sorry... Just wanted you to open your eyes and look at me while I kiss you..." Rody said in a raspy voice as his blush deepened. You hadn't even noticed that you closed your eyes, you were too busy feeling him to feel your own sight go away for just a split second.

He was starting to get the hang of it, that's for sure.

Rody's calloused hands finally found somewhere to put themselves on and that being your hips, which he then pulled onto his lap as he leaned back on the couch; his thumbs gently caressing and rubbing circles under your shirt.

You just let him do what he want, this was all just for practice anyway, right?

"Can I..." Rody trailed off as he pulled away, his face flush and mouth agape—gasping for breath. You could only imagine what you looked like right now if he was this disheveled already. "... Can I french kiss you?" Rody bit his bottom lip as he thumbed at yours.

"Wouldn't this already be considered a french kiss?" You chuckled at your pun.

Rody rolled his eyes and let out a breath that you could only guess resembled a laugh. "Yes or no is all I wanna hear... Please?" He quietly begged you, staring up at you with his pretty green eyes that were lidded from all the kissing.

"That's all you wanna hear?" Another groan from him. "You're insufferable..." He used his hand to part your lips as he stuck the tip of his tongue out, before suddenly pulling you down and shoved his tongue inside your mouth.

It made you gasp against his lips, but you leaned into it invitingly. You placed your hands on his shoulders for support as he explored every inch of you.

For someone claiming he hasn't made out with someone for the duration of his entire life: this sure didn't feel like it. Your fingers threaded through his hair and grabbed a fistful of his dirty orange locks, making him moan into the kiss, albeit a bit too loudly.

Rody made you grind against him, his hands gripping onto your hips for dear life. "Mmmm...~ feel good... keep going... please..." He whispered as he pulled away for air, before pulling you back down for another round of tongue kissing.

It was messy, but you started not to care a few minutes ago. You were completely drunk on Rody's taste, and by the looks of it—he was already long gone. "Y-You'll help me out, right?" Rody panted while throwing his head back, helping you grind on his groin.

"P-Pretty please?"

And who were you to decline such a pretty face begging for more?

Safe to say the day after that was far from normal, because now he's completely addicted to kissing you.

#rody lamoree #rody lamoree x reader #dead plate #dead plate rody #dead plate rody lamoree #x reader #dead plate x reader #gender neutral #rody lamoree x you #rody lamoree x male reader #rody lamoree x fem reader #rody x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #x male reader #x fem reader #. . . 𝘀𝗵𝗶.𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁��𝘀 ?

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spade-riddles · 29 days ago

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The dominoes cascaded in a line, 'cause baby WE are the New Romantics

It has begun. Welcome to the beginning of the end.

We hang back, it's all in the timing. Every bait and switch was a work of art. The waiting and waiting and waiting for a signal that could only be sent after a decade of history ran its course.

The patience of so many tortured souls as the tick tick ticking of the clock grew closer and closer to the great escape. A wise poet once said, "the best people in life are free." And free, she shall set them.

On the 10 year anniversary of the album that dared to shout the whispers of their forbidden club, the signal was sent, washing them clean.

An underground secret garden uprooted in an instant for all to see. The key to the gate once buried deep, now dug up and simply left under a door mat.

Those afflicted by their scarlet letters have started and will continue to dress in black in unity, attending their own funerals. The death of self, for the greater rebirth of one's truth.

The model muse is already foreshadowing this approaching change for herself as she not only posted dressed in all black yesterday with a black and white filter, a black emoji heart, and a overall somber tone, but she also included a throwback of herself from 2014. 10 years ago. The origin of 1989 New Romantics. And she did it all on the day of the initial step into daylight.

The first domino has fell. Going anon sent the warning shot.

"Spade, still going, going, going? 🫵👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏼🤷🏼‍♀️"

For this was more than merely a surprise song, but instead a hint at the first to tip the scale. Call it what you want, Shawn.

The Mountain: "You can say I like girls or boys; So call it what you want, call it what you want".

The Lover remix feature, who notably played his part as the stand in for Karlie Kloss, became the first of many to "Speak Now".

Dressed in black right on cue, addressing his unreleased song The Mountain,

"The real truth about my life and my sexuality is that I’m just figuring it out like everyone. It feels really scary because we live in a society that has a lot to say about that. And I’m trying to be really brave and just allow myself to be a human and feel things."

Headlines. Headlines. Headlines. An all too familiar publicist is most definitely behind its fast travel in the news.

But why Shawn first you may ask? The Lover remix came out Nov 13th, on a different special anniversary. The one in which the mastermind and model danced in a snowglobe round and round. The Lover house, to no coincidence, is shown to be inside a snowglobe in the Music Video. Shawn's next tour date since his speech? Nov 13th...

The ground work has been laid, and just like clockwork, all will soon fall in line.

Perhaps the one said to be on the rollercoaster will get to share her story in due time. It certainly is a bumpy ride going going going down. 🎢

😳

Karlie’s post:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Karlie Kloss (@karliekloss)

instagram

#wow!#what an ask #you seem to know things #going anon

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pullhisteeth · 1 year ago

Text

worry lines | eddie munson

requested here -`♡´- your ex turns up and Eddie gets jealous. idiots in love! 4.7k

cw !!! for a borderline abusive (ex-)boyfriend. 18+ please and thank you x

contains hurt/comfort, fluff, jealous!Eddie, fem!reader, conflict, shitty ex-boyfriend. everyone’s in their early 20s

He was cruel, Eddie knows that much. Cruel enough that it took weeks and lots of gentle handling to coax it out of you.

You were a shell of yourself until you weren’t. Eddie doesn’t know the details, because who would he be to make you relive it if you didn’t want to? But he knows enough to sear a tar-black scorch mark in his gut, a branding, a fury reserved only for him.

And he’s perhaps a little oblivious to it, but Eddie’s patience never went unnoticed by you. The two of you might be like parallel lines - apparently doomed to just miss one another forever - but you’re still filled to the brim with giddy love for him. The fact he stuck around through it all only adds fuel to the fire. Something unruly burns behind your eyes every time you think about him.

“What about this one?”

You hold up a record and show him the front while you peer at the back. Eddie looks up from the stack he’s been flipping through for the past three minutes.

“Garbage,” he mutters, eyes back on his busy fingers.

“What?!” you exclaim, mouth wide and attempting to hide a grin. You’re fighting him for fun, really; you’re already putting the record back where you found it. “It came out, like, a month ago! How’ve you heard it already?”

“Gareth’s mom got it for him for his birthday,” he tells you without looking at you, side stepping only slightly to move onto the next box of albums. He’s close enough now that you could lean over and bump his shoulder with your own. You don’t.

You sigh, though it’s bright with amusement. You go back to your own shelf, eyeing up the scarce new releases stock that Trax only manages to update every few months.

“No shit,” you whisper, grabbing with greedy hands at the record you’ve spotted. You catch Eddie’s attention, his own hands stopping as he looks over. “I’ve been looking for this everywhere!”

He smiles, not because he likes the album - it’s The Cure, and they’re far too British, even for him - but because he likes your smile. Sometimes you make a face, with your mouth twisted to the right, because you’re holding it back. You told him once that you don’t like your smile very much, that it’s too wide, too toothy. He couldn’t disagree more, and when he catches you in these moments, the ones just before you realise you’re grinning and close your mouth, he cherishes it.

“You want it?” he asks, tone nothing but genuine.

“Fuck off, Eds,” you say anyway, still smiling. He’s lapping it up. “I can buy it myself now, don’t need your filthy drug money.”

He elbows you softly with an expression of faux offence. “Hey, y’didn’t mind my filthy money all those times it got you food at Benny’s.”

This makes you giggle, and Eddie is on cloud nine.

You tear your eyes away from the cover to meet his and he damn near keels over; it’s like a mallet on his temple, a slap across the cheek. He could look at your eyes forever and it’d never not hurt.

“Can I buy you one?” you ask him, adding “please?” when he gives you a look like he’s about to tell you no.

“Absolutely not,” he says, still grinning.

“But you’ve bought me so many!” You’re closer now, toe to toe with him, beaming back at him and gripping the record between clenched fingers. “I make my own money now. Consider it me payin’ you back, or at least starting to.”

“You don’t have to pay me back,” he mutters, “I like buyin’ you records. At least it meant you listened to somethin’ other than this shit.” He bumps the bottom of the cardboard sleeve with his fist.

“Hey,” you bite, pulling it out of his reach. “I like The Cure.”

“I know y’do, that’s the problem.”

You look at him for a beat, one so brief he only just gets a chance to take in your pensive face - adorable - before you scrunch your eyes and stick your tongue out at him.

“Suit yourself,” you say, turning on your heels and marching down the aisle, heading for the cash register.

He watches you cross the store, the way your walk shifts from comical to confident. This walk is familiar to him; it’s your I’m-nervous-because-I’m-in-public walk.

His eyes are still on you when you take your change from the girl behind the desk. He watches you pocket it, and catches your self-satisfied smile as you turn. And then he watches as it falters, and your face drains of colour, and he feels himself walking over to you before he has time to think about it.

You’re looking at the door, where the bell’s just chimed, and the bottom of your stomach’s fallen away. Heart in your throat, you stare blankly at the man who just walked in.

“Oh, hey,” he says, though he may as well be on the other side of the glass for the way he sounds so distant. He shakes snow off his hair and you feel the ghost of it between your fingers. “Fancy seein’ you here.”

You feel Eddie before you can muster up a response. He stands behind you, just close enough that, if you wanted to, you could reach behind and take his hand.

“Hey,” he says lowly, just by your ear, words for you alone. “Who’s this?”

There’s something simmering in his voice, something defensive. He knows.

“Uh, hi,” you squeak, fingers clutching the plastic bag you’re holding to keep them from shaking. “Hi- uh, Eds, this is, uh-”

“Tom,” the man says, sticking a gloved hand out to Eddie. You feel him shift slowly behind you; his eyes move between the back of your head and the man in front of you a few times before he returns the gesture.

He’s handsome, Eddie thinks. Better looking than he is, anyway. Cleaner, softer; none of the hard edges Eddie harbours that he doesn’t know you think are soft as anything.

“We used to go out,” you say quickly, before Tom tries to explain it himself and makes you feel smaller than you already do. You hope Eddie gets the hint.

He does. The burning in his gut flares and his hands clench into fists without him meaning them to.

“Eddie,” he states, sharp and blunt.

“We were just, uh- We’re headed out,” you say, and the way you’ve come over all nervous and quiet is almost enough to make Eddie’s heart split right down the middle. He hovers a hand over the small of your back and steps around you, around Tom, until you follow him.

“Well, see you around,” he says as the bell chimes again and Eddie damn near pulls you out into the snow.

The cold, damp flakes that land on your flushed cheeks are a sweet relief. So are Eddie’s hands, which wrap around yours to take the bag from you. He doesn’t miss how they shake.

“Fuck,” you breathe. The air escapes your lungs and doesn’t return for a second, long enough that you have to think to inhale. Eddie looks you over, desperate to pat you, fawn over you, kiss the snowflake off the bridge of your nose.

He opts for something safer. “You alright?”

The busy Indianapolis sidewalk doesn’t allow for too much fussing, and you’re quietly grateful for the bustling Saturday afternoon crowd pushing the two of you along and away from Trax.

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, breathless again, trudging through stomped-over snow. “Just took me by surprise.”

“Yeah, no shit. When’d you last see him?”

“When I picked up my stuff from his place.”

“Shit.”

You walk aimlessly around the corner, until Eddie begins to lead the way. Wordlessly you follow him for six blocks, and think to yourself that maybe he’s getting you as far away as he can.

He knows a coffee place, apparently, one so much better than any of the ones around Trax that you know are just as good. He ushers you into the warmth and buys three pastries - one each and one to share - and you eat until you’re not thinking about Tom anymore.

Robin sidles into the booth beside you, the familiar shape of her slotting into your side without care. She nudges her hip into yours, a wordless signal for you to move around and make more space.

The six of you squeeze around the tiny table as Eddie and Steve place drinks down across it. Pints of beer, far too big glasses of wine and six sickly coloured shots decorate it and all of a sudden you’re counting to five and banging a tiny glass on the varnished wood.

It tastes of sour apple and coats your lips with a shiny, sugary lacquer. Eddie sits opposite you harbouring a fiery urge to lean over and kiss you clean.

You grin at him, missing the flicker of affection in his tipsy eyes, and lean into Robin, who takes a swig from one of the pint glasses.

“Rob!” Steve shouts, reaching over and grasping at the glass. “You asshole, that’s mine-”

“What’s yours is mine, dingus,” she slurs, her dopey smile met not by something frosty but by Steve’s own grin. The tenderness inside your stomach is just as sickly as the shot; you’re drunk on sugary liquor and an unbridled love for your friends.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The bickering stops as Eddie raises his glass from the table.

“A toast,” he says, “to the newly-weds.”

You grasp your own pint and raise it too, along with everyone else, as Nancy and Jonathan beam back at you. They’re the picture of happiness, her rosy cheeks blooming from joy and champagne, his smile so wide you’re scared he might split in two. Nancy’s so pretty in a simple, short dress, Mrs Wheeler’s pearls around her neck, and Jonathan looks so smart in his suit, fresh from the dry cleaners courtesy of Joyce. A long day of family celebrations ends here, in this bar on the east end of Indianapolis, four walls that have seen the six of you grow up and into yourselves.

Nancy and Jonathan thank everybody, and Steve disappears without a single one of you noticing, reappearing with a new round of shots. Robin takes your hand in hers and squeezes, which tells you that she’s putting off crying. You’ve already covered the shoulder of her new shirt in tears. Happy tears.

If some benevolent force happened to be looking down and caught a glimpse of your happy little table, they’d find that your mind and Eddie’s look very much alike right now. Dizzy daydreams of a future neither of you are confident in, that neither of you think the other would ever even dare to consider.

The distant call of your name pulls you up off Robin’s shoulder. You hear it again, and the voice it’s called in sends your blood running cold. Regardless it beckons you and you turn to look, seeing him approaching like a fucking stalking lion.

“Oh,” you breathe, “hi.”

His unwelcome hands spread over the back of the booth, his fingers brushing the back of your neck. You bristle.

He grins down at you and then looks up and around at everybody else. “Hey, guys. I guess these are your friends?”

All you can do is look up at him. Eddie can see you recoiling and his stomach churns.

“Oh, hi again,” Tom says, spotting Eddie. This is your nightmare situation, frankly, and you’re afraid of where Tom might take it.

“Hey, man,” Steve says. His words are lopsided because he’s three pints and four shots in and too giddy to recognise this for what it is.

“Steve, right?” Tom asks. His knuckles whiten as he grips harder.

“Mm-hm,” Steve hums, leaning just enough to the left that Eddie has to push him upright. In the brief moment he’s preoccupied with his untrustworthy friend, he doesn’t see the way Tom dips his head to meet yours, or the attempt at a kiss on the cheek that you dodge, or even the quick words whispered in your ear. He does see you flush, your face, already warmed by wine, becoming even brighter. Before he can ask what’s happening, Robin’s scooting out to let you stand, and Tom’s hand’s on your waist and you’re off to the bar together.

Nancy shifts uncomfortably beside Jonathan, her hands on the table. “Is that…”

“Yeah,” Eddie says.

“Fuck,” Jonathan breathes.

“No way,” Robin barks, almost loud enough for Eddie to chastise her; you’re only twenty feet away.

Despite the stretch of time separating this moment from your last one with him, Tom’s hands haven’t become any less curious. They paw at you, never settling but instead trying each possessive spot he loved to frequent before you left him. Your waist was his favourite, but you’ve felt the unwelcome impression of his palm on each arm, your shoulder, the small of your back, and when he goes for your hip you twist just enough that he’s forced to drop it.

He’s telling you about his promotion. When you left, he’d been clamouring for it, doing everything he’d once confessed to hating: sucking up to his boss, shmoozing, working late. It pays well, apparently; well enough that he’s got his own place. It’s a five minute cab ride away. Want to come see it?

“Why would I want to do that?” you ask him, emboldened by the fiery rage his wandering hands are reigniting within you.

“Oh, c’mon,” he says, cooing your name with a sincerity so false that you taste the saccharine flavour of it on your gums, “you’re not telling me you haven’t missed me, huh?”

“No,” you tell him honestly, “I haven’t.”

“What, you with that metalhead or something?”

“Eddie is just a friend”, you bite.

“Yeah, right,” Tom scoffs, slamming his glass on the bar. He’s leaning closer, crowding you, and there are too many people behind him and all of a sudden you’ve lost sight of your table. “Knew I was right to put a stop to that.”

“Fuck you, Tom,” you spit, trying desperately to wriggle free. “I want to get back to my friends now, please.”

“Had his fuckin’ hands all over you the other day,” he continues, ignoring you. “Bet he tried it on when we were together, didn’t he?”

“No, he- Fuck, Tom, will you please just let me out-”

Eddie catches glimpses of you between passing bodies. He sees the way Tom’s crowding you and how you’re squirming and, honestly, he wants to walk into the sea.

Tom was never introduced to your friends. It was mostly his own choice, but Eddie and Robin and everyone else saw it for what it was. You just managed to get out before he cut you off from them all completely.

Now, in the low light of the bar, he’s not so certain that you’re done with him. Sure, you seemed unnerved when you bumped into him at the record store, but he begins to wonder if maybe you’d just been caught off guard, and if you’d thought about him since then. Had you called him?

“Hey,” Robin mutters, leaning over the table to Eddie with her eyes on you, “I think- I don’t know, she looks annoyed.”

Finally, there’s a gap in the crowd, and he sees it too. The pinch of your brow, and the squirming that isn’t squirming. You’re scared.

He stands so quickly that his head spins. He sees Nancy in his peripheral vision standing too, though she’s penned in by Jonathan and Steve. Eddie’s heavy footsteps take too long, he’s too slow; Tom’s hand is around your arm and he’s leaving, taking you with him, willingly or not.

He follows the silhouette of Tom, dark against the brash streetlamp light coming in through the glass doors. He can see the top of your head and feels himself pulled to you like a fish on a line.

He catches up just as Tom pushes the door open and stumbles into the snow, blinded by the fluorescent bulb in the lamp above. You feel the inebriation seep out of you with every second spent in the cold, your bare arms covered in goosebumps.

“Tom, what the fuck?” you spit, finally separating yourself from him. You feel the burn left by his tough grip on your upper arm. He’s still close, close enough that he can take your head in one firm hand.

“Just wanted to see your pretty face,” he says, his voice suddenly softer, his breath too hot on your face, “couldn’t see you properly in-”

“Hey.”

You turn just as Tom does to find Eddie in the doorway. His fists are clenched again and so is his jaw; you know him well enough to see your own anger reflected back at you.

“You okay?” he asks, looking at you, tender as always and it does something to dampen the fiery rage you’re keeping at bay. You nod as Tom drops his hand and scoffs.

“See,” he spits, “loverboy won’t leave you the fuck alone.”

You take three steps back. Eddie comes closer.

“Go home,” he says to Tom as you reach out and take his fist into both hands. He relaxes, and you wind your fingers together.

“Oh, c’mon,” Tom says, “you can’t be serious? Look at him, babe, he’s…”

“Can we go back in?” you whisper to Eddie, whose stern face is beginning to worry you. He says nothing but tugs on your hand and, to your relief, Tom seems to back away around the corner as you retreat indoors.

The door shuts and Eddie turns, but before he can say anything you throw your arms around him and push your face into his neck. He’s startled, but not so much that he can’t return it, his own arms around your back, the pressure a welcome thing.

“Hey,” he coos, “are you sure you’re okay?”

“Thank you,” you say, muffled by his shirt. “Thank you.”

He pulls back, too worried to care to hug you any longer. Instead he lets himself fuss over you, a tentative hand at your jaw as he looks you in the eye.

“I’m okay,” you finally say, sighing. “I hate him.”

Eddie can’t help but laugh. “I do too.”

“Thank you for not hitting him,” you murmur.

His fingers hover by your ear and just as you think he’s going to touch you, he lowers his hand.

“It’s okay,” he says. “I knew you’d hate that.”

He takes your hand again, a gesture which sends both of you independently loopy, and returns with you to the table, where Nancy nearly falls over Robin to get to you. As you reassure her and take your seat again, sandwiched between the two girls, Eddie takes a long swig of beer.

“Hey,” Steve slurs, leaning over to you. “Did y’know Eddie’s ears go red when he’s jealous?”

You look back at him with wide eyes as Eddie gives him a swift thwack to the arm, telling him to fuck off.

“It’s true!” Steve assures you. “I saw it with my own eyes! Like, five minutes ago, I-”

He’s stopped by more of Eddie’s playful hitting.

Quietly, just to you, Nancy says, “It’s true.”

You turn to look at her. She’s got that sparkle in her eye. It appears when she’s got a plan, or an idea, or knows something.

“For a minute, it looked like you were enjoying it,” she continues. “I bet he could’ve burned this place to the ground with how jealous he was getting.”

She nods to her left, where Eddie is dealing with a still restless Steve. He senses you looking and meets your eye, and the pretty pink blush that covers his cheeks is enough to make you look away.

The coffee machine pings just as the doorbell goes.

You jump, startled by both noises. Leaving the coffee to stew you pad through the apartment and open the door slowly, making sure to hide behind it to save the postman seeing you in your pyjama shorts.

When you pull it back, you’re surprised by the sight of your best friend, standing at your door in his own pyjamas.

“Morning,” he says, chuckling lowly.

“What are you doing here?” you ask as you let him inside. “Did you- Did you walk here in that?”

“God no,” he says, “have you seen it out there?”

Truthfully, you haven’t dared pull the curtains back yet. “No,” you admit, locking the door again and wishing you’d had the sense even in your drunken stupor to put your good pyjamas on. You pat the front of the crinkled cotton at the top of your thighs, smoothing it down to no avail.

“There’s coffee in the kitchen,” you tell him as you step over to the living room window and pull back the blind to reveal what can only be described as a blizzard.

Eddie comes in behind you with two steaming mugs. “Slept on Steve’s fucking couch,” he says, laughing again. “Dimwit couldn’t get himself into bed and then the weather got too bad for me to get a cab home.”

Steve lives two floors above you, in an apartment much the same as your own. His couch is small. Eddie’s back must hurt.

“How is he?”

“Steve?”

“Hm.”

“He’ll be fine,” Eddie sighs, throwing himself onto your couch and kicking his feet up, socked toes just missing the side of your bare thigh. “Probably regrets the fourth round of shots, but at least he had fun.”

“Did you have fun?” you ask softly.

“Yeah, I mean- Of course.” He reaches over to pick up your coffee and leans over to pass it to you. “Didn’t you?”

You take it from him and sit back, sighing. “Yeah, yeah, just…”

Your throat is suddenly too thick to drink the coffee. You stare at it, the deep mahogany liquid pouring steam into the tepid room.

“How does he still manage to ruin everything?” you ask, the question more an abstract frustration than anything aimed directly at Eddie.

He stiffens on the other end of the couch. He knows you don’t mean Steve, that your mind is elsewhere, on the impatient hands that couldn’t keep themselves from pressing painfully into your arm or the coddling of his hot breath on your face out in the snow.

“Hey,” Eddie coos, softening when he notices your hands shaking. He takes the mug, his own hands gentle on you to save from startling you, and replaces it on the table. “Here, c’mere-”

You lean into him, pushing your face into the softness of Steve’s sweater that he’s wearing. You keep apologising - variations of I’m sorry spat out between quiet sobs - and he keeps telling you it’s okay. One hand holds your elbow while the other smooths up and down your back, his cheek pressed to the top of your head.

“Thank you for saving me,” you say, and he exhales when he hears the smile in your words.

“Y’don’t have to thank me again,” he says. You lean back and the two of you sit as mirror images of one another, one knee up on the couch and the other foot on the floor. You wipe your eye with the back of your wrist. Eddie yearns to knock your hand away and do it himself, to clean you up and kiss you when he’s done. He keeps his hands to himself instead.

“I dunno what I’d have done,” you whisper, “I mean, I don’t think he’d have done anything, but I still don’t wanna think about it.”

“I don’t either,” Eddie agrees before he can stop himself.

You look at him. There are deepening shadows beneath his eyes that you’re sure the couch is to blame for, and his hair’s unruly, matted from what you can only imagine was an useless night’s sleep, but your favourite thing - the mellow brown of his eyes - is just as pretty as ever. So’s his skin, pale and imperfect where he’s inked the left side of his neck and you can see the very top of the scar that stretches over his collarbone. He broke it when you were both ten, and he still teases you about how quick you were to run from him when you saw the bone and the broken flesh. You’re desperate to know if it’d be warm under your fingertips, your lips, your tongue.

“Do your ears really get red when you’re jealous?” you ask him. You see him stiffen at the question, his eyes narrowing just so, as his hands flex over his knees.

“Steve’s an asshole,” Eddie says.

“I know-”

“But yeah,” he says, the corner of his mouth breaking loose into a smile, “He’s right. It’s stupid.”

You kick his foot with your own softly and laugh.

“Why were you jealous?”

“Oh, seriously?”

“Yes! Why were you jealous?!” you repeat, grinning.

“You’re really gonna make me say it?”

“Yes.”

He sighs, all dramatic and silly and you laugh until his restless hand lands on your knee instead of his own.

“I thought you were glad to see him,” he admits.

“I don’t know how you got that impression,” you say. You’re trying to ignore the soft rumbling in your chest, lest it take your breath away.

“Dunno,” he says, and suddenly he reminds you of sixteen-year-old Eddie, awkward and goofy, the boy you fell for.

“Well,” you say, “I’m very glad you came to my rescue.”

“I didn’t rescue you, you’re perfectly capable of doing that yourself,” he says, laughing. His knee knocks yours and his fingers spread until the tips of them are meeting the middle of your thigh.

“Still, it was a nice thing to do.”

He hums and you inhale as you place your hand on his. He looks up at you and the contact seems to provide some courage.

He says your name, and it’s softer than ever in the quiet of your living room. As far as the two of you are aware, there’s nothing beyond here; no blizzard, no hungover Steve two floors up, no shitty ex-boyfriends. Just you and Eddie and the string of starlight pulling you together.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks in a whisper, leaning in, already resting more weight on the hand on your thigh. Somehow, it feels like the most natural question in the world.

You nod. “Yeah, please.”

He closes the gap with his forehead to yours, tilting his head enough that his nose slots beside yours as he kisses you. You expected a peck, something nervous, but that’s impossible when there’s a decade of want behind it. He’s firm and certain as his hands finally take grateful handfuls of your hips, and your mouth burns as you kiss him back. He worries he’s being too handsy, especially after last night, but when you feel him retreating you take his larger hands in yours and keep them there.

This morning, as his tongue moves past yours, Eddie tastes like spearmint, coffee and tobacco. You miss the taste as soon as his lips paint tender kisses at the corner of your mouth and over the hill of your jaw, but you keen at the sensation anyway, arching into him.

“This okay?” he asks in a pant, pulling back and hiding a smile as he hears you whine.

“Yeah,” you breathe. You use shaky fingers to push curls back so you can see his face and, holding him in both hands, kiss the swell of his cheek followed by the other. “Thank you.”

“Stop thanking me,” he says, chuckling.

“What do we do now?” you ask him.

He looks back at you, feeling more whole than ever, and notices the creeping worry lines between your brows. Pushing against your hold, he leans forward and kisses you there. The satisfaction of feeling you relax is enough to keep him going for a thousand years.

“Well,” he whispers, and his breath isn’t too hot like Tom’s. It’s warm and friendly where it blooms over your closed eyes. “Go take care of Steve, probably.”

“Kiss me again?”

He does, wordlessly, softer than before, once on your mouth and another on your forehead. You wind your arms around his back, and with cheek resting on the top of your head, he says those fateful words into your hair:

“Love you.”

You squeeze without thinking, smiling into his chest.

“Love you too.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie imagine #eddie fanfic #eddie fic #eddie #eddie munson angst #stranger things au

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jmdbjk · 11 months ago

Text

They take up a lot of space in my head sometimes...

I didn't want to dwell on this in the documentary posts but I know you guys will indulge me as I ramble a little bit.

I want to elaborate on some thoughts I had while watching the second half of Episode 7 when Jungkook went over to Jimin's.

I watched it several times. I made sure to watch it once with a very critical and skeptical eye to keep myself from straying too far...nothing serious but possibly delulu...

This part of the documentary inside Jimin's apartment was filmed on March 13, 2022 following the last PTD Seoul concert.

This was BEFORE PTD Las Vegas where Jimin has told us he talked to the members about his troubles and that's when he embarked on writing the songs that would end up on his album FACE which was released A YEAR after this interview.

It seems Jimin answers his phone in the car after the concert. Tells whoever to get ready and come over and asks what kind of chicken to order. The documentary camera person is already in the car with Jimin... who is he speaking to on the phone? When we eventually see Jungkook coming over later on in this episode, it's natural to assume he was speaking to Jungkook on the phone, who was probably in another car on his way home to his own apartment after the concert, or perhaps already home since his apartment is much closer to Jamsil Olympic Stadium where PTD Seoul was held.

Inside Jimin's residence, he talks about what he does there, basically not a whole lot: eats, sleeps, drinks, has friends over, plays on the computer, and from what we've seen since, he's not much of a decorator.

He wonders if he's revealed too much. I think this was a legitimate question for him, since idols typically do not divulge this sort of thing to the fans. It's plausible to me that Jimin has to unlearn all these preconceived ideas he's had about being an idol in order to forge ahead.

Delivery fried chicken arrives and he runs to get it and runs back to the dining table. Literally runs. The door chimes as it closes. I do love watching him eat. He surely loves his food. A man after my heart.

He talks about how it naturally came about that they needed to have their own spaces. They were maturing young men, they needed their own places even though they'd lived together for so many years. He said their place in Gangnam was so small they put up temporary walls. I believe he was speaking about the house that is now a cafe, Hyuga? He says it was scary living on his own, it was so quiet.

When Jungkook arrives, the door chime sound we hear was different from what it sounded like when Jimin went to the door to get the delivery chicken.

From this footage, we can't know if Jungkook punched in the code and let himself in. Maybe he did, but this footage does not show that. Unless someone is familiar with how that particular door chime sounds when it is unlocked, when it is locked, when it opens and when it closes, we can't know what that chime meant.

We see Jungkook after he's already inside the apartment. He was followed by a camera person. I am certain the camera-person does not have Jimin's apartment's door code. Make of that what you will...perhaps Jungkook came alone and they re-enacted him entering once he got there because it'd be weird if he was just there all of a sudden... we can't know.

Incidentally (fun fact) this is the same jacket Jungkook wore in the video of receiving the President's Award during his university graduation earlier that month (Mar. 2, 2022)... yes, Jeon Jungkook is a university graduate too. He wore a jacket with "QUIT YOUR JOB" across the back of it, to accept a graduation award.... 💀

Anyway back to my delulu...

Jimin and Jungkook are chatting at the table while eating and drinking and get on the topic of their sleeping habits when Jungkook says normally he would take a bath, drink a couple beers and go to sleep and even adds now he goes to sleep earlier. Such a grown up.

Jimin says he falls asleep at 1 a.m. so he must be getting old but it doesn't matter if he falls asleep at 1 a.m. or 6-7 a.m., he sleeps until 4 o'clock in the afternoon.

Jungkook says he decided not to live like that anymore... this the man who in early 2023 was staying up all night to do live broadcasts with us from his living room and waking up his neighbors belting out Unholy, etc... such a grown up.

And then Jungkook says 'oops, I sounded like Yoongi just then, never mind, live how what you want' and whoever that is off-camera wheezing... HAHAHAHAHAHA. Anyway. That whole exchange was... what is it with them? They ride the edge of smart-assy sarcasm and inside jokery with each other constantly. And this time at the expense of Yoongi! HAHAHAHA.

Jimin and Tae sometimes act similarly with each other but it is more role play and nothing like the long-running inside joke Jimin and Jungkook do all the time.

The vibe between them was identical to the one when they were sitting at the dining table that first night of In The Soop 2.

As episode 7 goes on, they show Jimin and Jungkook again, Jungkook is chopping mushrooms and Jimin says "You are doing so well on your own" and "Be careful" and the translation says Jungkook said "okay" but it sounds more to me like a "ayyy stop nagging" sound he made.

Jimin runs behind Jungkook again. Why does Jimin run so much? He's like a nervous, excited little mouse.

They're terrible Youtubers:

The ship wars and solo wars and stupid-things-you-could-ask-during-a-live wars over whether or not Jimin ever ate Jungkook's ramen... FINALLY, after posting all those recipes last year and Jimin saying he wants Jungkook to cook that for him, we see JUNGKOOK HAS COOKED RAMEN FOR JIMIN! Cooked it for him way before any of these wars began too... what a waste of energy.

No, Jimin didn't go over to Jungkook's to eat it, Jungkook came to Jimin and cooked it for him.

Ok, but this is the part that made me need to pause and rewind and write this long-ass post:

Jimin tells us that a friend of his helped him realize he needed to explore the possibility he was depressed.

He recounts the story as they were at Jimin's apartment drinking and they had a small argument. The next morning Jimin wakes up, has totally forgotten the argument and goes over to the friend's to help begin moving. They apologized to each other and the friend came over again that night and the friend said "I think you are severely depressed. You act like you aren't, but you've been acting strange. If you're having a hard time, tell me." Jimin said he didn't think he was having a hard time and the friend told Jimin to take some time to think about it. Jimin says a lot changed after that.

This moment when Jimin is retelling this story, "yet you act like you aren't, but you've been acting strange. If you're having a hard time, tell me." Jimin reaches over and actually touches Jungkook. Look at the way they are looking at each other?

The way Jungkook sat there, looking straight at Jimin while Jimin recounted that conversation/day/moment, chewing on his bottom lip as is his habit, Jungkook nodding during certain points that Jimin was retelling... very very brief moments where body language reveals a lot.

Maybe the "friend" Jimin was supposed to help move, the one who told Jimin he seemed severely depressed... was Jungkook?

You can call me delulu if you want. I see what I see and I hear what I hear.

They have not shown this type of closeness amongst the other members in this entire documentary. And here is Jungkook sitting in Jimin's home, while Jimin tells us this very intimate detail about himself.

If Jungkook was the one... it's plausible, the one who came over to drink, just like they were doing this evening... the one who was moving and Jimin was going to help him. The one who he can look in the eyes and recount this story and his friend can look him straight back in the eye and nod in agreement.

Why retell this story with Jungkook sitting next to him? There were other moments when we know Jungkook is there, he could have been off camera while Jimin told the staff about this intimate moment with his friend. No. He said it while they sat next to each other looking at each other.

It's possible. If not, it seems possible that Jungkook has already heard this story.

Jimin shares more than we've ever heard from him: that he falls into a labyrinth the moment he starts to ponder about what happiness is. He says of course their work and many other things require attention to detail but it's ok if there is vagueness (or imperfection) too. If you get too caught up in the meaning of things (in the importance of things), you feel like you have to risk it all to accomplish them and its ok to let some of it go, enjoy the simplicity of things and not get emotional over everything ... this sounds like Jimin has matured and has tried to push away perfectionism.

He believes he is in a very healthy place mentally right now (at the time of that interview, March 13, 2022) but can't say the same about his body, but he wants to stay healthy as he grows older together with the fans. And Jungkook is still there, but off camera.

This interview was almost two years ago. And now their first solo career endeavors have been accomplished and these two are doing their military obligation together. They've come a long way. We will see them again next year. It won't be as long as it feels.

Anyway, going back to my delulu cave now. Carry on.

#i cried my eyes out #jimin and jungkook #jikook #kookmin #the more i think about the 'friend' the more dots connect #i could also be totally wrong #jungkook does know though #nothing will change the fact they are tight tight

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inkmonster21 · 6 days ago

Text

Short n’ Sweet💋

Hugh Jackman x Fem!Sister!Reynolds!Reader

Warnings: none

Part 14

Series Masterlist

I Leave Quite An Impression

💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋

Your album quickly became a record-breaking success, surpassing all expectations and soaring to new heights. It skyrocketed up the charts, quickly climbing to the top and dominating the music scene. Fans from around the world praised the album, mesmerized by the unique sound and captivating lyrics.

The achievement was a testament to your talent and hard work, a validation of the countless hours you had poured into creating the album. With each passing day, the album continued to solidify its place in the music industry, marking a significant milestone in your career.

Just as you were contemplating a well-deserved break, Hugh sprung a question upon you, catching you off guard. You looked at him, curious and a tad bit apprehensive.

“Do you want to go on the press tour?” As Hugh posed the question to you, your gaze remained fixed on his, a mix of surprise and interest filling your eyes. "Press tour?" you echoed, the words dancing on your lips. The prospect of embarking on a promotional tour had not been on your immediate agenda, but Hugh's suggestion sparked a flicker of curiosity within you. "You mean, like interviews, events, and all that?" you inquired, seeking clarification on what exactly he had in mind.

Hugh nodded in affirmation, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "Yeah, exactly. A press tour," he confirmed, his voice tinged with excitement. "Interviews, meet and greets, promotional events, the whole works." The possibilities seemed endless, the idea of connecting with your fans and promoting your album in a more personal way was both thrilling and slightly intimidating.

You chuckled, a hint of self-deprecating humor in your voice as you said, “I’m only in the movie for like 30 minutes. I doubt anyone wants the inside scoop on my terrible acting performance.” You downplayed your role, brushing off the idea that your brief screen time would generate much interest. The thought of being the center of attention during a press tour seemed comical given your limited acting skills.

Hugh leaned in closer, a playful smile on his face as he traced a finger down your cheek. "What if I want the inside scoop?" he teased, his gaze fixed on yours. The simple gesture sent a shiver down your spine, his touch both gentle and electrifying. Your laughter subsided as you met his gaze, the earnestness in his eyes making your heart flutter.

Your mumbled words against his lips were a sweet, almost bashful admission. "You get every inside scoop," you confessed, the words tinged with vulnerability and just a touch of hesitation. There was a depth to the statement, an implication that he had access to parts of you that no one else did - both on and off camera, both personal and professional.

Hugh's laughter brought a warmth to your heart, his words genuine and sincere. "But really," he insisted, his voice carrying a hint of tenderness, "I want you there." The simple phrase held a multitude of meanings, a mix of desire for your presence, support for your career, and a perhaps a hint of possessiveness.

You feigned reluctance, offering a playful protest before ultimately giving in. "Fine, but when this blows up in my face, I'm blaming you. I suck at interviews," you said, trying to maintain a facade of nonchalance while your heart skipped a beat. The thought of facing the press and navigating interviews was daunting, a stark departure from the comfortable anonymity you had grown used to.

Hugh chuckled, clearly pleased with your agreement. "That's the spirit," he teased, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Just keep blaming me. I'll gladly take the heat." His confidence was infectious, and a part of you found comfort in his willingness to shoulder the blame. Yet, under the surface, a flicker of doubt and anxiety remained, reminding you of the challenging journey ahead.

You sat in the makeup chair, watching as skilled hands transformed your already-lovely face into a work of art. Your hair was styled to perfection, and the final touches were added to your makeup, accentuating your features and readying you for the first interview. As the team finished up their work, you took a moment to steal a glance at yourself in the mirror, admiring the result. The process was intense but necessary, and it left you feeling both glamorous and a bit anxious.

Your excitement grew as you approached the interview, particularly because you were about to participate in the iconic Vanity Fair Lie Detector test. You had heard stories about celebrities taking the challenge, and now it was your turn. The prospect of facing the test, being under the intense spotlight, and answering difficult questions left you buzzing with a mix of anticipation and nerves.

Ryan's voice rang out in surprised disbelief. "What the fuck are you doing here?" his words echoed through the room, a mix of surprise and confusion evident in his tone. You paused, turning to face him, a bit startled by his unexpected appearance.

You sauntered over to Hugh, a mischievous smirk playing on your lips. Without hesitation, you wrapped an arm around him, your body molding perfectly against his. Responding to Ryan's question, you declared, "My boyfriend invited me." The words rolled off your tongue with ease, a possessive yet lighthearted claim on Hugh.

Ryan's reaction was immediate, his scoff betraying his skepticism. "Oh I'm gonna grill your ass on that lie detector," he retorted, a challenge evident in his voice. There was a glimmer of mischief in his eyes as if he was ready to expose any secrets you tried to keep hidden.

You met Ryan's smirk with one of your own, your tone playful and confident. "Go for it," you said, your voice dripping with a hint of sass, "the only secret I had was that I was fucking your best friend." The words hung in the air, a clear declaration of your intimate connection with Hugh. Ryan looked taken aback, his expression a mixture of surprise and disbelief. “Oh, my god. This is going to be amazing.”

“Who’s going first?” The air was tense as the question hung in the air, the atmosphere charged with anticipation. Hugh, you, and Ryan all looked at each other, waiting to see who would go first. The choice seemed to carry a subtle challenge: who was brave enough to subject themselves to the scrutiny of the lie detector test first?

After a brief moment of silence, you spoke up with a confident smile, "Why don't you have a go, Ryan?" Your words suggested a sense of sportsmanship, encouraging him to take the first step.

Ryan, who was never one to back down from a challenge, smirked back at you, his eyes locked on yours. "Sure," he agreed, a hint of competitiveness in his tone. He stepped forward, signaling that he would indeed take the first turn in the hot seat.

Ryan settled into the chair, his body taut with anticipation. The polygraph machine was connected to him, its probes and wires snaking across his body, recording every subtle shift in physiological response. The room was deathly silent, the only sound coming from the quiet hum of the machinery.

Hugh, attempting to maintain his composure, began the questioning process, his voice steady despite the hint of amusement in his eyes. "Now Ryan," he started, barely holding back a laugh, "I'm going to ask you some straightforward questions to calibrate the machine." He paused, fighting the urge to let out a chuckle, and then continued, "Are you comfortable and not under any kind of influence?"

Ryan's remark drew a laugh from his own lips, his response laced with a hint of sarcasm and self-deprecation. "Oh I wish I was under the influence," he joked, the words a mix of playfulness and genuine desire to escape the intensity of the moment. The room filled with laughter, a brief but much-needed release of tension.

Louis, the man operating the lie detector test, acknowledged Ryan's statement with a nod, confirming the machine's response. "Truthful," he confirmed, his professional tone breaking the brief moment of levity in the room. The serious atmosphere quickly returned, the gravity of the situation once again palpable.

Hugh resumed the questioning, his voice more serious now, as he asked the next question. "Is your full name Ryan Rhondy Reynolds?" The question seemed straightforward, but the machine's reading was crucial for establishing the test's accuracy. The room fell silent once more, all eyes on Ryan as he awaited his response.

Ryan let out a mock sigh, his response dripping with self-deprecating humor. "Unfortunately, yes," he confirmed, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. The room chuckled at his response, the momentary lightheartedness breaking the tension once more.

Hugh continued with the next question, a curious smile on his face. "You previously talked about failing a high school drama class," he brought up, "Does this explain your limited range?" The question was a mild jab, gently mocking Ryan's acting skills. The room waited in anticipation for his response, eager to see how he would take the playful ridicule.

As Ryan broke out into laughter, his response laced with humor and self-awareness. "It's probably one of the many reasons," he acknowledged, "I just don't think anyone wants to see me as a Dutch impressionist painter, right?" He directed the question to Louis, the man operating the machine, who confirmed his statement with a nod. "True," Louis replied, his tone remaining professional despite the casual banter in the room.

Hugh's smile indicated his next move, and he turned to Ryan, seeking his permission. "Now I'm going to have your sister join me," he said, a hint of anticipation in his eyes. "Would that be okay?" The room felt the shift in the conversation, the introduction of Ryan's sister adding an unexpected dynamic to the already charged atmosphere.

Ryan's smirk betrayed a hint of nervousness, his attempt to mask his emotions failing as he responded to Hugh's request. "Yeah, love that sister of mine," he replied, his voice a mix of feigned nonchalance and genuine worry about what was to come. The room tensed up in anticipation, everyone waiting for his sister's entrance.

Louis, the lie detector operator, looked up at the machine before announcing his conclusion. "Deceptive," he stated, his professional tone belying the significance of the word. The room fell silent once more as the implication of his statement sunk in. Ryan's smirk faded, replaced by a flicker of concern, as he turned to Hugh, awaiting his next question.

You made your way into the room, taking your place beside Hugh, a stack of cards in your hands. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation as all eyes fell on you. Hugh looked at you briefly, a hint of reassurance in his eyes, before turning back to Ryan, preparing for the next question.

You asked the question, addressing Ryan directly. "Ryan," you said, a hint of curiosity in your tone, "when mom's glass angel broke, did do it and you blame me?" The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for Ryan's response and the verdict of the lie detector. All eyes were on him as he prepared to answer the question.

Ryan's response came, his voice steady despite the hint of tension in the air. "No, of course not," he said, his words firm and resolute. The room was silent as everyone waited for Louis to confirm the truth or deception of Ryan's answer, the lie detector the final judge in the matter.

Louis, the lie detector operator, looked up from the machine and confirmed the result. "Deceptive," he stated, his tone neutral. The room remained silent for a moment, the verdict hanging in the air. Ryan's eyes flicked to you, a mix of surprise and resignation in his gaze.

You reacted with mock outrage, pointing a finger at Ryan with feigned shock. "I was 12!" you exclaimed, emphasizing the innocence and vulnerability of your young age. The room chuckled at the display, the humor in the situation providing a momentary respite from the tension.

Ryan admitted to the blame, his smirk betraying a hint of guilt despite the lighthearted tone. "And the easiest one to blame! Sorry!" he acknowledged with a shrug, his attempt at an apology seeming more playful than sincere. The room chuckled again, the exchange between you both creating a humorous moment amidst the serious atmosphere.

You and Hugh alternated asking Ryan questions, the interaction taking on a playful bantering vibe in the room. You asked your questions with wit and humor, while Hugh, being closer to Ryan, posed his questions with a mix of seriousness and banter. The room filled with laughter and banter, the lie detector's responses adding suspense to every answer.

You posed the final question to Ryan, a smirk on your lips. "Can you listen to my new song 'Juno' without thinking about Hugh?" you asked, half-teasing and half-curious about the answer. The room fell silent, anticipating Ryan's response and the lie detector's verdict.

Ryan's response was quick, a mix of sarcasm and genuine annoyance. "Ugh fuck, I can't even listen to it at all," he remarked. The room broke out in laughter, the bluntness of his answer adding to the humor of the moment.

Louis, the lie detector operator, confirmed the truth of Ryan's response with a nod. "Truthful," he said, his tone neutral despite the light-hearted banter in the room.

You all broke out into laughter again, the room filling with mirth and amusement. The tension of the lie detector test seemed to lift as you all shared a moment of genuine laughter, the lighthearted banter easing the earlier seriousness.

Hugh took his turn in the hot seat, preparing himself as Ryan and you looked on, ready to take turns asking him questions. The atmosphere in the room shifted slightly, the focus turning to Hugh and the questions that were about to be asked.

Ryan greeted his friend with a mischievous smirk, his voice filled with playful mockery. "Hello, Hugh," he said, clearly enjoying the role reversal. The room chuckled, anticipating the questions that were about to follow.

Ryan, still sporting that smirk, nodded, "Just gonna ask you a few simple questions to calibrate the machine, okay?" he confirmed, his tone friendly but with a hint of mischief. The room went quiet, the anticipation building as everyone waited for Hugh's response, and what it would reveal about the lie detector's accuracy.

Ryan began the questioning with a straightforward question, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Is it true that your full name is Hugh Michael Jackman?" The room waited in anticipation for Hugh's response, the lie detector recording his reaction to every word.

Hugh, composed and unfazed, responded candidly. "Yes," he affirmed, his voice steady. The room chuckled, the simplicity of the question and Hugh's straightforward answer creating a lighthearted moment.

Ryan continued with the questioning, another straightforward question. "Are you from Sydney, Australia?"

Hugh confirmed the truth of the statement with a nod and a soft smile. "Yes," he answered, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. The room remained quiet, awaiting the verdict of the lie detector test.

Ryan's smirk grew wider as he asked the next question, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "Is it true that you sugar daddy my little sister?" The room chuckled, the tension from the earlier questions replaced with amusement at the absurdity of the question and Ryan's choice of words.

Hugh's laugh echoed through the room, his response quick and firm. "No!" he asserted, his tone playful but unwavering. The room chuckled again, the lie detector's response providing evidence against Ryan's exaggerated question.

Louis, the lie detector operator, looked up from the machine and announced the result. "Deceptive," he stated, his tone neutral but leaving a brief moment of silence in its wake. The room seemed to hold its breath as they all processed the unexpected outcome.

Hugh laughs, “I just treat her well! You can’t base that as being a sugar daddy!” Hugh looks to you for help, “darling?” You couldn’t help but chuckle at Hugh’s defense, amused by his denial and the unexpected turn of events. "Sorry babe," you teased, feigning sympathy, "seems like the machine says otherwise." The room chuckled, enjoying the lighthearted banter and the unexpected twist.

You smiled and tapped your postcard, shifting gears with your question. "Now, is it true that you've been trying to meet me for the past three years?" The room seemed to hold its breath as everyone waited for Hugh's response, curious to hear if his efforts had truly gone unnoticed for so long.

Hugh's immediate answer filled the room with confirmation. "Absolutely true, probably longer," he admitted, his tone carrying a mix of sincerity and a touch of sheepishness. The room chuckled at the revelation, the truth of his statement creating a lighthearted moment despite the underlying tension.

Louis, the lie detector operator, nodded in agreement. "Truthful," he confirmed, the lie detector's verdict adding fuel to the fire. The room chuckled again, the unexpected twist in the questioning adding an element of excitement to the test.

Hugh continued, a smirk directed at Ryan as he spoke. "And Ryan just wouldn't make it happen!" The room laughed, the blame subtly placed on Ryan for the delayed meeting. Ryan mock-protested, feigning innocence with a dramatic hand gesture.

Ryan responded with a playful eye-roll and a sarcastic retort. "Well excuse me," he said mockingly, "I didn't want my little sister exposed to such 'filth'" at an early age. The room chuckled at the exchange between friends, the jab adding a lighter tone to the serious atmosphere.

Hugh retorted, a hint of sass in his voice. "Mate, you think I'm the filthy one? Think again." The room chuckled, enjoying the friendly banter between Hugh and Ryan. Even you couldn't help but smile at the playful back and forth.

Louis, the lie detector operator, confirmed the truth of Hugh's response with a nod. "Truthful," he stated, his tone professional yet casual, adding another affirmation to the machine's verdict. The room chuckled again, the lie detector's accurate assessment further fueling the banter and lighthearted mood.

You fan yourself dramatically, a playful smile on your face. "It's getting hot in here," you teased, adding a touch of levity to the room. The room chuckled, the cheeky remark causing Hugh to raise an eyebrow and Ryan to roll his eyes, playing along with the theatrics.

Ryan made a show of gagging, an exaggerated expression of disgust on his face. "Oh my God," he exclaimed, "I'm in my personal hell." He then turned to the camera, addressing the audience directly with a sarcastic remark. "Enjoying this, Vanity Fair?"

You took the hot seat, the wires of the lie detector secured properly and the machine calibrated. Both Hugh and Ryan sat across from you, their eyes fixed on you as they prepared to take turns asking the questions.

“Just to start this off, (y/n), you’re the younger sister of famous actor, Ryan Reynolds.” You nodded, confirming the statement. "Yes, that's correct," you acknowledged, your tone matter-of-fact. The lie detector's sensors were already measuring your body's response, capturing even the subtlest reactions.

“You recently released your album Short n’ Sweet. How many copies did you pawn off to the homeless shelter?” You chuckled at Ryan's sarcastic question, his playful jab adding a touch of humor to the serious atmosphere. "Oh, you know," you responded sarcastically, "I just made sure every homeless person in the city had a copy." The room laughed, caught off guard by the audacity of the question and your witty response.

Ryan continued with the banter, teasing you with reference to your lyrics. "Do you think you really leave quite an impression?" he questioned, a smirk on his face as he alluded to certain lines in your songs. The room chuckled, amused by the ribbing and the unexpected callback to your own lyrics.

You responded with a coy shrug and a flirty grin, exuding confidence in your response. "I do," you affirmed, your words laced with a hint of playfulness. The room chuckled at your unapologetic response, the interaction adding a lighthearted moment to the otherwise serious lie detector test.

Louis, the lie detector operator, confirmed the truth of your response with a small nod. "Truthful," he stated, the machine's sensors recording your body's reaction to the question. The room chuckled at the affirmation, the lie detector's verdict adding a layer of credibility to your confident response.

Hugh's question shifted the tone of conversation, moving on from the playful banter to something more relevant to your career. "You starred in both Deadpool and Wolverine, and there are rumors your character will be back for further installments of the Marvel Universe. Is this true?" he asked, his question carrying a hint of curiosity. The room quieted, anticipating your response and the verdict of the lie detector.

You widened your eyes, attempting to feign ignorance, as you answered, "No, I don't know of any future projects right now." The room held its breath, the tension palpable as the lie detector's sensors recorded your response. If the question was true, the machine would detect any deception in your speech.

Louis, the lie detector operator, looked up from the screen, his gaze steady as he announced the result. "Deceptive," he affirmed, his professional tone adding a gravity to the outcome. The room remained quiet, processing the unexpected result and bracing for the reactions of Hugh and Ryan.

Ryan, clearly enjoying the situation, chimed in with a smirk on his face. "You heard it here first," he joked, "Deadpool's other best friend, Sabrina will be retiring. Maybe in a witchy fashion?" The room chuckled at the playful banter and Ryan's witty response, the light moment providing a reprieve from the serious atmosphere.

You rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance at Ryan's comment. "You're going to get me fired before I even get a chance," you retorted, the room laughing at your sarcastic reply. The lie detector's sensors continued to measure your reactions, monitoring your body language for any indication of dishonesty.

Ryan continued with his questions, his smirk growing wider as he continued to tease you. "Now, in your song 'Espresso,' you state, 'Too bad your ex couldn't do it for you.' Are you in fact referring to someone's divorced wife?" He playfully nodded towards Hugh, adding a layer of mischief to his question. The room chuckled, the tension mounting as they waited for your response and the lie detector's verdict.

Your cheeks flushed pink and your mouth gaped open as you quickly tried to defend yourself. "No! That's... it's just a song. Come on," you protested, your voice just a bit higher pitched. The room chuckled at your flustered response, the lie detector's sensors noting any changes in your body language and voice.

Louis, the lie detector operator, looked up from the machine and announced the result. "Deceptive," he stated, confirming the machine's assessment of your response. The room chuckled at the unexpected outcome, the lie detector's verdict adding fuel to the playful questioning.

Hugh chuckled, clearly amused by the unexpected turn of events. "Looks like the machine disagrees with you, love." His smile grew wider as he teased you, enjoying the lighthearted banter and the surprising results of the lie detector test.

The room chuckled at Hugh's comment, the playful tone adding a sense of mischief to the atmosphere. Ryan, not one to miss an opportunity, chimed in with a smirk. "Oh, it's definitely disagreeing with you," he quipped, clearly relishing in the unexpected revelation.

Ryan chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered state, but he obliged, moving on to the next question. "Alright, alright," he said, still grinning. "Next question." Hugh lets out a chuckle, he continues with his next question, tilting his head as he gazes at you.

Hugh shifted his gaze towards you, his head tilted slightly as he posed the question, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Alright, then," he began, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Have you ever secretly taken a picture of me when I wasn't looking?" The room went quiet, all attention focused on your response and the lie detector's verdict.

You smirk, “maybe.”

The room waited in anticipation as the lie detector operator, Louis, looked up from the machine. "Deceptive." He stated, the verdict adding a new twist to the game. The room chuckled again, the unexpected results of the test creating a sense of unpredictability and entertainment.

Hugh playfully pointed a finger at you, his tone light and teasing. "You should know better than to lie on this thing!" he scolded, a smirk on his face. "Go on, confess," he prompted, clearly enjoying the moment. The room chuckled at Hugh's remark, the light-hearted exchange adding a touch of humor to the ongoing game.

“Okay yeah, I have a few 100 photos of you I’ve taken without your knowledge.” The room erupted in laughter, the unexpected revelation adding a comical twist to the situation. Hugh raised an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and amusement on his face, while Ryan chuckled, clearly finding the moment humorous.

Ryan chuckled, clearly intrigued. "Ohh, can I see?" he asked, a playful gleam in his eye. Your quick response of "no" only fueled his curiosity, and the room chuckled at the playful exchange. Hugh smirked, clearly entertained by the situation, while Ryan persisted in his request.

Ryan's question was direct, "Why not? Are they x-rated? Wolverine after dark?" he inquired, a hint of mischief in his tone. The room chuckled at the unexpected implication, the question adding a layer of humor to the lighthearted moment. You quickly shook your head, denying the accusation, while Hugh chuckled, clearly amused by the banter.

You explained your reasoning, "No! I'm just a private person. I don't need you snooping in my phone," you responded with a firm tone, while the room chuckled at your honest response. Ryan huffed in mock disappointment, clearly teasing you, while Hugh chuckled, enjoying the lighthearted banter.

The room erupted in laughter once again as Louis, the lie detector operator, announced the result. "Deceptive," he stated, his professional tone contrasted with the playful atmosphere. Hugh smirked, clearly enjoying the unexpected outcome as Ryan chuckled, thoroughly entertained by the ongoing game.

You laughed, covering your face in mock embarrassment, and looked at the camera, addressing your statement to the audience. "The Tumblr girls know what I'm talking about," you joked, referencing an inside joke or reference known to his fanbase. The room chuckled at your remark, appreciating the playful banter and the acknowledgment of his dedicated followers.

Hugh smiled, enjoying the moment, and Ryan chuckled, clearly entertained by the playful interaction. The lie detector's sensors continued to monitor your reaction, capturing every detail for the test. The camera remained focused on you, capturing the light-hearted exchange for the Vanity Fair audience.

Ryan's question broke the laughter with a more personal query. He shifted his attention towards you and asked, "Would you say you're your mom's favorite?" The room quieted down, the lighthearted banter giving way to a slightly more serious tone as they waited for your response. The lie detector's sensors prepared to capture any change in your body language or voice.

You smiled, a sense of confidence in your voice as you affirmed, "Oh, definitely." The room chuckled lightly, appreciating your self-assurance, while Hugh and Ryan exchanged glances, intrigued by your unabashed response. The lie detector continued to monitor your body's response, silently recording your confidence.

Louis, the lie detector operator, once again confirmed the truth of your response. "Truthful," he stated, his professional tone adding a sense of authority to the verdict. Hugh laughed, clearly enjoying your confidence, while Ryan smirked.

Ryan chuckled as he disagreed with your answer, his playful banter continuing. "Love the confidence, but you're not," he stated, a smirk on his face, clearly enjoying the exchange. The room chuckled along with Ryan, appreciating the friendly banter, while you remained steadfast in your claim. The lie detector continued to monitor your body's response, capturing every nuance of your interaction.

You teased back confidently, "I'm bringing Hugh Jackman home for Christmas, of course I'm her favorite.” The room burst into laughter at your bold statement, the lighthearted banter adding a touch of humor to the moment. Hugh chuckled at your remark, enjoying the playful exchange, while Ryan shook his head, amused by your self-assured claim. The lie detector buzzed as it registered your response.

Louis, the lie detector operator, confirmed the truth of your statement with a simple statement. "Truthful," he announced, the machine's sensors having detected no signs of deceit in your voice or body language. The room chuckled at the result, clearly entertained by the game, while Hugh and Ryan exchanged grins, amused by your unwavering confidence.

The topic shifted to a classic debate in the Marvel fandom, "Now, comparing superhero’s. Are the MCU movies better than the men movies?" The room waited in anticipation, knowing that this was a question with divided opinions. Hugh chuckled, clearly enjoying the debate starter, while Ryan smirked, already knowing your stance on the matter. The lie detector's sensors monitored your response, ready to reveal any unconscious bias in your answer.

You smiled at the camera, fully embracing your role as a Marvel ambassador. "They are now. Go see Deadpool and Wolverine in your theaters when it releases," you stated confidently. The room chuckled at your plug for the upcoming film, Hugh and Ryan sharing amused glances. The lie detector's sensors noted your enthusiastic response, the machine confirming your truthfulness while capturing your confident endorsement for the movie.

Louis, the lie detector operator, once again confirmed the truth of your response, his professional tone adding authority to the verdict. "Truthful," he stated, the machine's sensors having detected no signs of deception in your statement. The room chuckled at the result, clearly entertained by the ongoing game, while Hugh and Ryan exchanged grins, appreciating your unwavering truthfulness.

The Vanity Fair staff wrapped up the photo shoot session, signaling the end of the promotional event. You were finally free to leave, and you exhaled a sigh of relief. Hugh and Ryan were talking to the staff, while you stood nearby, waiting for your cue to leave. The crew began to pack up the lie detector equipment, preparing to wrap up the day's work.

A member of the Vanity Fair staff approached you, sporting a sheepish smile. He greeted you timidly, "Hi, sorry. I'm such a big fan. I had to say hello." The staff member's shy demeanor betrayed his excitement at meeting you, his fanboy enthusiasm evident. You smiled warmly at his greeting, appreciating his kind words despite his obvious fangirling.

You reassured him with a kind smile, "No need to be sorry. It's nice to meet you." The staff member beamed at your friendly response, his nervousness gradually fading away. He fidgeted slightly, clearly trying to control his excitement, but was clearly overjoyed to have a chance to meet you.

The staff member continued to shower you with compliments, his cheeks flushing slightly as he spoke. "You're so funny, and pretty," he mumbled, his fanboy admiration clear. The comment tugged at your heartstrings, and you couldn’t help but smile at his sweet words.

Hugh, who had been in conversation with the staff, turned his attention towards you and the crew member. He observed the interaction from a short distance, his eyes narrowing slightly as he saw the staff member complimenting you. Despite your apparent disinterest, Hugh couldn't help the pang of jealousy that crept into his heart. He turned back to his conversation, discreetly glancing over his shoulder every now and then, monitoring the interaction between you and the staff member.

You chuckled as you watched the flustered fan walk away, clearly smitten after meeting you and getting your autograph on his phone case. Hugh, who had watched the whole interaction, walked over to you, his expression a mix of curiosity and jealousy. He approached you, trying to hide his feelings but failing slightly.

Hugh cleared his throat, "Making friends over here, are we?" he asked casually, a hint of sarcasm lacing his tone. He tried to keep his emotions in check, but his slight possessive nature was evident in his words.

You wrap your arms around him, “I’m known to be friendly.” Hugh melted into your embrace, his jealousy fading slightly as he felt the warmth of your arms around him. He wrapped his own arms around you, drawing you closer to him as he responded, "Indeed, quite the social butterfly." Despite his earlier jealousy, he couldn’t help but find comfort in your touch.

You broke the silence with a simple question, "Dinner?" You casually suggested, your fingers intertwined with his as you both began to make your way out of the building. Hugh smiled at you, feeling incredibly fortunate to have you in his life. He nodded in agreement, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of love and awe.

💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋

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#hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman series #hugh jackman fic #hugh jackman #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine #logan wolverine #logan howlett

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staylovesmiley · 6 months ago

Text

Collision— Chapter 2

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Pairing; Stray Kids x afab!reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩Summary; You’ve known him for years but you never would have guessed the charming guy you’ve been online gaming with has been an idol this whole time. (masterlist here)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩Warnings; implied afab reader (only they/them pronouns used for reader), mild angst?, pls I haven’t written fanfics since 2018 patience and kindness is appreciated

Today was finally the day, well more like finally the night as the hour was late and the sun had begun setting as the plane landed at its destination.

Over the past month Star had been eagerly messaging back and forth with Felix about recommendations for things to do, places to eat, help with knowing what the weather is predicted to be so they knew what to pack. At first the Aussie was nervous, but the closer it got to time he felt more at ease that his identity was protected if even a little bit bitter that they had no clue they would be indirectly meeting through the crowd of his now sold out show. He had learned they hadn’t been a stay for very long, only having discovered them during their maniac tour and being just a casual fan until seeing the comparisons of Chan to Wriothesley (who happened to be one of their favorite characters in Genshin since his model was leaked). Felix had to bite back the amusement tinted with a small twinge of jealousy hearing them gush about how handsome his fellow Aussie was. Other than that they chose to not talk much about Stray Kids or the concert, preferring to talk about the trip as a whole and even asking the blonde to be somewhat of a virtual guide. Starlight never suggested trying to meet up, most likely assuming it an off limits topic considering how protective he was with his identity. Felix couldn’t help but hope they would bring it up, ask to meet up face to face since they would be so close to one another.

It was silly, he knew, feeling a strong want to reveal himself to them. The two gamers had been somewhat close before, even with never having seen what each other looks like or knowing each others names.

While he himself kept most details about himself a secret, Star was rather open about their personal life and, with consent of course, had often vented and rambled to Felix about their life whether it be work issues or that one time they had called him from the laundromat because it was so late and there was a rather creepy individual lingering near by as they waited for the dryer to finish and wanted to be on the phone with someone to try and deter the individual.

He had learned they didn’t have many friends in the city they lived in, being mostly introverted they kept to themself and found it hard to make connections due to their more nerdy hobbies and interests.

Felix battled with himself internally if he should say something, open up more to them even before he found out they were going to be coming to Korea. They were kind, and from what he could tell pretty trustworthy. Even after finding out they were stay, Star seemed so chill about it all he felt like it wouldn’t turn out too bad if they found out who he was. Perhaps it was the chaotic part of his brain wanting to see how they would react knowing this whole time they had been talking and gaming with the Lee Felix of Stray kids, the very group they planned to see in concert and had bought albums of. Maybe a larger part of it was wanting to strengthen this connection that extended past his idol life.

Though he hadn’t shared much about himself, he felt seen by Star. Not by the artificial surface level stuff most idols are watered down to, But for himself, as an individual.

Felix had talked to the others about them, multiple times now. First it was in passing, never even giving them a name as he just referred to them in general as a “gaming buddy” but over the past month, while getting to know them even more as he helped them prepare and plan their trip, he began opening up about his desire to be more honest with them as well as sharing more about them with the others.

Changbin and Hyunjin eagerly asked what they looked like, much to their dismay upon learning he didn’t know himself. Seungmin teased him, claiming he had a little schoolboy crush on the somewhat mysterious gamer (he argued that with how much of a yapper they tended to be, affectionately, he was more of the mysterious gamer then they were). Jisung and Jeongin showed their curiosity more subtly in asking about what they liked and suggesting things he could mention to them about places to go and sights to see on their trip. Minho seemed uninterested though he diligently listened to the younger vent about his inner battle over whether or not to reveal his identity.

Chan was surprising, when he first told him about Star he teased the other. The older poked at his cheek with a goofy smile on his face as he sing-songed about Felix having a little crush just as Seungmin had. But once he had opened up about possibly wanting to meet up with them, he expected Chris to get serious and scold him. To tell him that was a reckless idea and could potentially hurt the group should something go wrong. Instead, the older Aussie smirked slightly and shrugged his shoulders. “Do you feel like you can trust them?” Was what eventually left his lips as he turned in his studio chair to look at the younger who sat perched on the couch behind him, pillow hugged tightly to his chest with how anxious he was bringing up the topic with their leader.

Felix stared at him with eyes so wide it made the other burst out into laughter, almost falling out of his seat. “Listen, it’s risky, yes- but mate you’ve been talking about them nonstop for a whole month.” The younger blushed slightly and looked away. “I know the fans usually talk about them for a different reason but we have NDAs for situations like this….”

Felix gawked at him for a moment, blinking a bit as he stared at the older male. “I never- thought of that…but how would I go about asking them to sign something like that?” Chan shrugged, turning back to the soundboard to continue working. “You could ask them to meet up once they are here, then send over the paperwork and explain it’s for your safety. If they are a good friend like you claim, and they already respect how you’ve had to be secretive in the past, then they should understand.” Felix took in the words he was saying, letting them fully absorb as he took in what this meant. But was it really that simple? He thought on it for a few days, and just 48 hours before they were set to hop on a flight to Incheon International, he sent them a message asking if they would meet him once they arrived.

That brings you to this moment, waiting at baggage claim as you eagerly look over the messages in your discord app about where to meet your mysterious online friend after checking into your hotel.

This was absolutely insane, you knew. Meeting up with someone who after years of not even knowing his name or what he looks like, drops the bomb that he is “somewhat a celebrity” and wanted to actually meet in person after all but needed you to sign a bunch of documents stating you wouldn’t leak any of his personal information after knowing who he was. After signing and sending over the paperwork you should have demanded to know who he was, to video call before hand just to make sure you weren’t walking into anything dangerous. But you were a rather impulsive individual and the excitement of finally meeting your friend outweighed the rational part of your brain. It wasn’t even that they were a celebrity that had you so excited. Whoever your friend was, you were just happy to finally meet someone who you considered yourself rather close with even if it was somewhat one sided. Sure, he may have not shared any personal information about himself with you but as far as things like his likes and dislikes, his personality, his kindness, that you were familiar with. It didn’t matter that you didn’t have a real name or face to put to your friend or that you didn’t know what his line of work was, you knew him...at least you hoped you did.

Once you had gotten checked into your hotel you took some time to freshen up after your long flight before sending a message to your friend to let him know you had landed and were ready to head out to the meeting spot whenever he was. He had let you know today was a day off for himself, before an extremely busy schedule the next two days.

You were dressed simply in a pair of distressed baggy jeans and a slightly oversized long sleeve for the comfort of the flight and because you did tend to get chilly often. You were just planning to meet up near the Han River before going to get a bite to eat, so there was no need to change your clothes for something so casual. You heard your phone signal that you had received a message back, giving you the go ahead to start making your way to the park. Here goes nothing-

The spring air was crisp, wind blowing gently causing the baby hairs at the back of his neck to tickle the skin lightly with his hair pulled up in a messy bun he had recently learned with how long his hair has been getting lately. He was dressed in a pair of black sweat pants and a dark blue hoodie, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible lest he attract too much attention from the public.

Anxiously he paced back and forth at the spot he had asked you to meet him.

It was dark by the time you arrived, catching a glimpse of the man from behind a small smile appeared on your face as your footsteps picked up with the eagerness to finally meet your longtime friend.

As you approached him he had turned so he was facing you, though his gaze was pointed at the ground as he was deep in thought it seemed, and it dawned on you as the color slowly drained from your face and realization settled in. Oh no, oh this was embarrassing. You silently thanked yourself for not speaking to him much about your admiration and interest in his group, seeing now that your longtime friend was none other than Lee Felix of Stray Kids. You groaned internally, remembering the slight fangirling you had done to him in the beginning over his group and a specific leader, cursing yourself mentally as you took a a deep breath and made your way to him while his back was once again turned to you. You tapped gently on his shoulder. “Um- Hi?” You spoke softly, suddenly very nervous and not because his identity and status was now known to you but because of your aforementioned introverted nature.

Felix whipped around so fast his neck hurt slightly, looking down (only slightly, we all know this man ain’t that tall) he smiled nervously. Woah, they were so cute, he thought to himself before shaking the thought from his mind. “Star?” He asked, biting his lip slightly as for a moment he feared maybe this wasn’t his friend but could be a stay (and not his stay- wait his stay? Oops-) that happened to spot him and come to say hi.

You giggled lightly, nodding a bit. “It’s uh- my name is y/n, actually…” you said with a smile, offering your hand out to him in greeting. “But you can keep calling me Star if you like- I actually like that nickname.”

He blushed slightly, glad for it to be dark out so it was less noticeable. “You have a lovely name…I know this is probably a useless introduction for you but I’m Felix.” He chuckled and shook your hand before rubbing the back of his neck, eyes down cast. “It’s not useless at all! I know I’m well…a stay and all but I’m your friend first. I actually was your friend first technically speaking.” You rambled slightly, catching yourself before you went on for too long and got off track. “It’s nice to meet you, Felix.” He felt his chest lighten and flutter a bit at your words, knowing in that moment it was the right decision to trust you like this.

You spent some time talking, catching up on little things about each other (mostly Felix) that you never shared due to not knowing each other fully until now. You made your way to a small building with a restaurant upstairs that Felix swore had the best food for late nights after a long flight. He pulled your seat out for you before taking his own. “So I’m guessing those next two days you’re gonna be busy is actually because of the concert the day after tomorrow?” You questioned, looking over the menu and being grateful for the pictures with numbers corresponding to the items listed so it was easier to understand what each dish was as your Korean wasn’t the best. “Ah yeah- it is…are you still looking forward to the show?” He was slightly nervous. What if now after meeting him you felt awkward going to the show. His other friends and family had gone to shows before but perhaps this was different? He was in somewhat uncharted territory with you and since you hadn’t talked much about the concert even before knowing his identity he was nervous to ask but was dying to know at the same time.

“Oh my god are you kidding? So excited! Not to completely gush and make a fool of myself but you guys are incredibly talented. Besides- now I have a whole new reason to be excited.” Felix raised an eyebrow at this, his question showing on his features before he asked it. “And what is that?” You grinned cheekily and reached over to poke at his chest. “I’ll be cheering on my friend, silly!“ you laughed, only quieting down when the waitress arrived to take their order.

Once the order was placed and they were once again left to themselves, you turned to Felix slightly sheepishly. “So uh- I guess now is probably as good a time as any to mention I may not have been completely honest about the true nature of my trip here…” Felix‘s eyes widened a bit as that trademark confused look appeared on his face. Suddenly feeling his heart rate pick up his mind began to race with where this was going. Oh no- were you a sasaeng who actually knew who he was this whole time and had been stalking him until this inevitable moment? No. There is no way- it couldn’t be that, could it?

“I applied for a student visa and well- for the foreseeable future this is where I’ll be living!” The Aussie breathed a mental sigh of relief but then tilted his head as more confusion flooded his expression. “Oh? Why didn’t you say that earlier-“ You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck before taking a sip of the water in front of you. “Well I was worried you might feel pressured in some way that I would want to meet up and I knew how much you wanted privacy….I was afraid you would think I’d expect to become irl friends since I’d be living in the same city…” at this information, Felix felt his heart warm and his chest flutter again at your consideration for him and his boundaries. “Star- that’s….you’re so sweet. But moving here? That’s so exciting! Im glad we did meet after all. You don’t know anyone else here, do you?” You shook your head, feeling slightly embarrassed as the nerves over the move and leaving everyone you had ever known behind to come to a foreign country alone. “Just you, yeah…thank you for trusting me enough to meet up. I’m glad to have you as a friend.” You both wore a matching blush at this, looking away from each other just as the food was delivered to the table.

After a few moments of silence, besides the quiet sounds of you both digging into your respective dishes, the blonde man spoke up. “So a student huh? Are you going anywhere specifically?” You looked up at him, halfway through slurping up some of your noodles causing him to laugh softly at the sight. Quickly you finished chewing and swallowed your bite of food before answering his question. “I’ll be taking Korean lessons, actually, as a way to get my visa. What better way to learn the language than living here, right? I’ll take classes once a week and the rest of the time well- I’ll figure that out but my job was able to let me work remotely so thankfully I won’t have to worry about looking for a job while I’m here.” Felix smiled and nodded, taking in the information. “That’s so cool I didn’t know you could get a student visa to come here and learn Korean- do you know where you’ll be staying long term?” “Not yet. For now I’m at a hotel nearby but as soon as I can I’m going to start looking for an apartment.” You sighed, the stress of your lack of a living situation evidently weighing on you. “If you need any help just let me know, yeah? I’ll try my best. You don’t have to do it all alone..” he offered warmly, placing his hand on top of yours where it rested by your bowl. You smiled, cheeks almost sore from how much this man truly was the ray of sunshine the fans and members called him by.

You both couldn’t help but hold matching smiles on your faces as the night went on. The more Felix got to know his long time friend face to face, the more he felt at ease. It also helped how gorgeous you were. The blonde caught himself staring on more than one occasion and had to pull his eyes away before he was found out by the gamer across from him. The more you got to know him you felt butterflies erupt through your chest at how kind and charming he truly was, a true princely type it seemed.

You discovered you were the same age, though you were a few months older (your birthday closer to Hyunjin’s). You talked about anything and everything as you ate your meal, eventually being politely kicked out so the establishment could close for the evening.

Felix walked you back to your hotel, your hands brushing against each other occasionally from how close you were as you were deep in conversation. “So I’ll see you the day after tomorrow…” he said as you reached the front entrance of the hotel. “Well- yeah I mean if you can see that far into the crowd.” You laughed, tucking some hair behind your ear. “I mean uh- well if you wanted to I could arrange for you to come backstage afterwards and maybe come with us to get dinner after?” Your eyes widened in disbelief as you stared at him like he just handed you a million dollars.

“Really?! A-are you sure? I don’t wanna impose-“ you stuttered a bit as the excitement and nerves took you over.

Felix laughed and nodded his head. “I’ll talk it over with staff and the guys but I’m sure they won’t mind. I’ve uh, kinda been telling them about you a lot since I heard you were coming to visit and they have been super curious to meet you as well-“ now you blushed, looking away. “Um- yeah I mean sure I’d love to!” “Great! I’ll let you know the details when it’s all settled. Oh-“

Felix held out his phone, rubbing the back of his neck. “If you wanna put in your number? It might be easier than communicating through discord alone…” You smiled and nodded as you took the device from his hands and quickly put in the international number you were given for your time there as well as adding in your normal number into the additional contact information just in case. “Well this was so nice, Felix. Im really glad I was finally able to meet you.” He felt the warm and excited smile stretch across his features causing his eyes to turn to crescents and before he could think twice, he pulled you into a tight embrace. You squeaked a bit at the action, but quickly melted into his touch and rested your head against his shoulder while his rested against the side of your head. “Let me know when you get back safe.” You muttered to him as you let go, smiling at his nod of acknowledgment before you both shared your goodbyes and went your separate ways.

Between the time you had met up and the day of the concert you and Felix had been talking nonstop. He kept you up to date while they practiced for the show, even going as far as to send a couple selfies and pictures of himself and the members, including the cutest picture of a sleepy Jeongin and Hyunjin cuddled up on the couch at the back of their practice room that you will cherish forever.

You were currently in the process of getting ready for the show yourself, placing the final touches on your makeup and hair before standing up from where you had sat in front of the floor length mirror in your hotel room and stepped back to take in the full look.

You had taken it upon yourself to dress up to match their latest comeback, wearing a pleated denim miniskirt with a cream colored cropped tank top and a light blue biker jacket you had thrifted sometime ago on top. You finished off the look with some knit leg warmers in a matching color to your top and a few different silver chain necklaces, one dainty with star charms along the length of it and another just a thicker plain chain, and a couple of matching bracelets and rings.

Looking over your appearance once more, you nodded at yourself before slipping on your black docs to finish it all off.

Once you arrived at the venue everything was a blur until you were at your seat, this being your first ever kpop concert let alone in a foreign country. You smiled friendly to the stays around you who greeted you politely and made some small talk which you were happy didn’t get too deep since you were still so new to the language and a bit self conscious about your pronunciation of most words. Before you knew it the show was starting and you couldn’t help but cheer loudly for your friend and his members.

Felix had tried to insist on changing your seat to something closer to the stage but you had refused, saying that you’d get to see him afterwards and that you could still have fun from your seat practically in the nose bleeds and have fun you did. Thank god for modern technology as you were able to snap some photos of Felix mid dance that had you howling with laughter and would most definitely be used to tease him later on.

As the show came to an end your nerves started to bubble back up to the surface, realizing that soon you’d be face to face with all eight members of a group you’ve been a fan of for a couple years at that point. Again you were reminded of the things you had told Felix about one Bangchan and blushed with embarrassment at the thought that maybe he had said something to the older Aussie about your supposed attraction to him based on your love for a certain fictional character he bore resemblance to. As the lights began turning on and fans began leaving the venue you were greeted by a member of staff who lead you to the backstage area through a series of corridors and heavy double doors.

On your way to the green room you happened to run into the members in the hall, spotting Felix your eyes lit up and you called out to him. “Felix! Hey!” You shouted, laughing when his eyes locked on you and he took off run towards your figure down the hall.

Matching his energy you also took off in a sprint towards the Aussie and squealed with glee when instead of stopping upon reaching you the other wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you almost effortlessly and spun you around. “Star! Gosh I’m so glad you are here- how was it? Did we put on a good show for stay?” You giggled as he set you down but noticed how his arms stayed holding you in his embrace. “It was incredible, as always! Well- I mean from what I’ve seen via YouTube videos…” You both laughed, staring at each other as you took in his appearance and he yours. “You look incredible, to match our performance I guess.” You rolled your eyes a bit at his attempt at a joke, but took the compliment nonetheless. “Thank you! You guys inspired me I guess-“ you fired back, catching the seven other pairs of eyes on you from over his shoulder and suddenly felt anxious nerves flood over you.

“Uh, hyung- are you gonna introduce us to your friend?” Jeongin spoke up first, going as far as stepping up and tapping the older on the shoulder. You stepped back from your friend and looked at the others like a deer caught in the headlights. You never realized how large of a group they looked like until you were standing in front of them.

Your poor introverted soul screamed at you to run and hide but you forced yourself to bow at the waist politely to them and introduce yourself to them. “Hi! I’m y/n but you can all call me Star- well uh that’s what Felix calls me and what I go by with my friends…”

You slowly rose to standing straight again when you heard a few of them let out chuckles before they introduced themselves as well. “Star, yeah? Cute.” Lee know said with a smirk. “Cute is right! Felix why did you hide them from us for so lonnngg-“ Changbin whined and clung to the younger while the others laughed or rolled their eyes affectionately at his antics. “Hey I just found out what they looked like myself not that long ago-“ Felix pouted at him as he tried to pry the older off of him. “Ya! You could have shown us a picture or something??” You giggled, hiding your mouth behind your hand shyly before feeling extra bashful being talked about like you weren’t in the room. “Guys, you’re being kind of rude…sorry for them.” Chan spoke up, stepping up and nodding to the green room. “We’ve gotta go get changed but you can come have a seat while you wait? We won’t be long and I’m sure you don’t want to stand out here while you wait- though I warn you it can get kinda loud in there.” He said, glancing back at the others causing them all to prove his point by shouting their protests. “Thank you, that sounds nice.” And with that you followed them into the room to wait for them to all get changed.

As you waited on the couch in the green room for the members to get back into their civilian clothes as you’ve decided to nickname them, you tried not to be too obvious about how your eyes wandered around the room curiously to watch as the staff cleaned up after the show. Stylists grabbing clothing from the outstretched arms of the members from the closed off changing rooms to put them into the proper garment bags and hung on the clothing wracks to be wheeled off and stored away in some vehicle to be brought somewhere at JYPE perhaps, makeup artists cleaning their stations and packing away their supplies, other various staff members going around picking up trash left behind by either themselves or the members. You felt a bit anxious sitting down while everyone else was tidying up around you until you felt the soft leather of the sofa dip beside you. “Hi.”

Looking to your right you were met with Bangchans dimpled face grinning at you. “Oh uh- hi!” Your voice came out a lot higher pitched than you meant it to and you quickly scrambled to compose yourself while Chan laughed at your reaction to his presence. “Hey, deep breaths yeah? It’s just me.” You nodded along, taking a deep breath. “Yeah that’s kinda the problem- I know I’m not the first one to tell you this but you are like hella intimidating…” He responded with more laughter as you gave him a pout. “Sorry ‘bout that, not like I’m really trying to come off that way…quite the opposite really.”

Taking in his appearance you gave him a soft smile. He still had traces of makeup left behind that a quick remover wipe didn’t quite get rid of, dressed in a pair of loose fitting black shorts and a matching black hoodie. “Comfy?” Is the question that slipped out as he sat beside you, full on man spreading. The Aussie’s eyes widened before you were graced with his beautiful laugh once more and you were starting to think you could get used to the sound. “Yeah, I’d say so sitting next to someone as pretty as yourself.” This caused a dark blush to spread over your cheeks and to the tips of your ears as you quickly hid behind your hands. “Oh my god you can’t just say stuff like that-“ you groaned though laughter quickly followed to try and cover your bashfulness. Pulling your hands away you began to fan your face as another one of the boys made your way over to sit on the opposite side of you.

“Oh no, has our poor leader said something to upset you?” Came Lee Minho’s teasing tone as he leaned in close to take a look at the blush still dusting your features. You gasped a bit at the close proximity and struggled to find the words to respond. “Guys can you give them some space, please? They aren’t used to you yet-“ Felix seemed to rush from where he had been changing and attempted to shove Leeknow out of the way. “If they want some space they can speak for themselves, right?” The elder dancer hummed after his question, staring at you expecting an answer. “Well I uh- it’s fine, Lix I’m okay.” The blonde stopped his attempt short and looked between the three of you before huffing a bit. “Well alright if you’re okay….just tell me if they are bothering you, yeah?” You nodded to him, giving the young Aussie a warm smile as Chan made himself more comfortable by draping an arm over your shoulder, thus effectively grabbing your attention. “So, Star- Lix says you’re going to join us for dinner, yeah?” You nod eagerly and flash him the same smile you had just given Felix. “Mhm! If you guys will have me, that is.” From across the room Hyunjin muttered under his breath. “Oh we’ll definitely be having you-“ which caused Han to give him a sharp elbow to the chest and Jeongin a look to say “knock it off” without actually speaking it. Thankfully for the group you didn’t catch the tallest innuendo and continued to chat with Chan and Minho about the show, your favorite foods, and somehow the topic landed on your semi-permanent stay in Korea.

“Wait wait wait- so you’re going to be here for a couple of years to study? That’s fantastic!” Bangchan said with his dimples on full display for you. You fought the urge to reach out and poke them, thankfully winning against the impulse lest you embarrass yourself. “Yup! I still can’t believe it but I’m sure the reality of it will hit once I get settled in a place and start classes.” Minho raised an eyebrow and tilted his head like a curious cat. “Hold on you don’t have a place to live yet?” You shook your head in response and gave him a shrug. “I mean I’m staying at a hotel right now so it’s not like I’m out on the streets or anything.” Now Jisung made his way over, sitting on the other side of Minho and practically gluing himself to the older’s back to get closer to you. “But that’s no way to live! I’m sure it’s not all that comfortable I mean I’ve stayed in many a hotel with this career and it’s just- never as good as having your own bed.” You looked around the see the others nodding or vocalizing their agreement with the rapper. “Well no it’s not ideal but I haven’t exactly had time to find a place yet…” Felix spoke up moving from his spot where he had been leaning against the wall to sit beside Chan. “I offered to help them find somewhere since we’ve got some free time this week now that the concert is over.”

Chan smiled at his fellow Aussie then turned to meet your eyes. “That’s a great idea! We can all help if you want, too. The more the merrier, right?” You nodded, looking over to Felix to gauge his reaction and make sure it wasn’t imposing if he had wanted to spend the time alone with you and to your delight he seemed completely on board with the idea. “Yeah I would really appreciate that, than you Chan.” “Chris. Please-“ You blushed again, giggling a little as you nodded towards him. “Chris.” You responded, feeling brave enough to send him a wink which had the older blushing in return and quickly turning away from you to cough into his elbow. So much for being able to handle what he dished out.

“This is nice, chatting with everyone and getting to know you Star, but I can actually feel my stomach yelling at me to feed it so can we please get going to dinner?” Jeongin whined, clutching his stomach and leaning dramatically onto Changbin who started to complain of hunger himself. With laughter and words of agreement they all decided to load up into two cars split by dorms to head to the restaurant. You found yourself nestled in the cuties car between Felix and Jeongin, talking enthusiastically to Felix about updates coming to your beloved genshin while Jeongin zoned out beside you with headphones on deep into whatever he was doing on his phone. After a while the conversation died down and you felt someone tapping on your shoulder. Turning to look behind you, Seungmin flashed you a soft smile. “Do you plan on coming back to the dorm with us after dinner? We were gonna have some drinks and play Mario Kart since we have the day off tomorrow.” You turned to look at Felix, once again checking to make sure it was okay. Just a few days ago he didn’t even want to show you his face and now it seemed like you were being intertwined deeper within his life with every passing minute. The blonde looked nothing if not eager for you to agree, nodding to you with a bright and sunny smile on his face. “Please? I can show you my pc set up too oh my god I can’t wait for you to see it!” At that you couldn’t really say no, not that you wanted to. “Oh- okay sure I’d love to! I can’t wait to see it either I know you’ve talked about how much work you put into it for months!” Seungmin patted the freckled man on the shoulder and gave him a knowing look before he was met with a playful glare. You looked between them curiously but decided not to question it as you turned back to face forward as the van pulled into the parking lot for the restaurant.

After a somewhat eventual dinner where most of it was spent being practically fed food by all the members, eyes lit up at watching you try everything for the first time. Choruses of “oh try this, it’s my favorite!” and “you’re gonna love this, here take a bite” rang around you for nearly two hours as you all ate your full and chatted throughout.

Once you all arrived back at the dorms you were bid a goodnight by 3racha and their ferret, being ushered into the cuties dorm by an eager Felix as he practically pushed you through the living room before Minho shouted at the two of you to remove your shoes first. Giggling amongst yourself you did as told and then ran off to go see Felix’s set up.

Once your eyes landed on it you gasped, covering your mouth with both hands. “Lix, it’s beautiful-“ you said breathlessly as you slowly made your way to the desk in awe. Felix beamed proudly and leaned in the doorway. “I know, right? It’s almost perfect! There are still a few things here and there I wanna get before I’ll be truly happy with it but for now I’m content.” You looked back at him with astonishment before turning back to his pc. “Truly this is a masterpiece-“ he smiled at your words, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. It felt comfortable like this, almost familiar though you knew it shouldn’t considering this is only the second time you’ve been face to face with each other. Still, you found yourself relaxing into his embrace, leaning against him as he swayed the two of you lightly and rested his head on top of your own.

You would have been content to stay like that had it not been for one Kim Seungmin barging in and letting you two know that the drinks and game had been set up and they were just waiting on you.

You blushed, pulling away from Felix to head to the living room but not before grabbing hold of his hand to pull him with you. Felix was a bit sad at the loss of you from his arms but quickly cheered up once your fingers interlocked with one another.

Several rounds of Mario Kart and a few too many drinks later and here you were head in your hands as you faced yet another defeat to Minho as he high fived second place jeongin who then turned around to stick a tongue out at the three of you remaining. “This is why I despise this game-“ you groaned, taking another shot of soju while Felix sat and stared at the screen in disbelief. “I was so close to winning until SOMEONE shot me with a damn blue shell!” He glared at Minho who shrugged, mimicking Jeongin by sticking out his tongue at the younger dancer. “Alls fair in love and racing.” He then winked, heading off to his room. “Losers clean up! I’m going to bed.”

The maknae followed his lead, still laughing a bit at the disappointment on your faces before shutting the door to his room behind him. “I demand a rematch soon!” You shouted at their backs, huffing a bit before laughing as well at how ridiculous it all was.

You, Seungmin, and Felix began cleaning up before you grabbed your phone and started to order a ride back to your hotel. “Woah hey, what are you doing?” Your friend questioned as he came up to you after taking out the trash. “Uh, going home? Well- to my hotel I mean..” he shook his head, taking your phone out of your grasp. “You can stay here.”

You gave him a look as if you thought he was being funny but the man just looked back at you with seriousness. “Are you…sure? I don’t exactly have a change of clothes or anything-“ “you can borrow some!” He responded as if it was the simplest conclusion. At your unsure expression he sighed, canceling the ride on your phone before handing it back to you. “I’m sure. You can take my bed and I’ll take the couch.”

Shaking your head furiously you gawked at him. “Uh no way am I kicking you out of your own bed when I could just leave-“ before you could even finish your sentence he was shutting you down again. “Well I don’t mind sharing a bed with you but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” At that you gave him a funny look before rolling your eyes, though a soft blush painted your cheeks. “Lee Felix I don’t think you could ever or would ever for that matter make me uncomfortable.” He laughed a bit at the exasperated tone you used, pulling you towards his room. “I’m taking that as a yes to a sleepover! I’ll get you something to sleep in-“ and with that he began rummaging around through his drawers.

Once you were dressed in a pair of his sweatpants and an old tshirt, Felix lent you a makeup wipe and after cleaning up your faces you both settled under the sheets of his bed, facing each other in the dark. “I haven’t had a sleepover since I was in middle school…” You giggled, snuggling deep under the comforter. “Me either- I’m so excited! Maybe in the morning we can convince Minho to make us breakfast if he isn’t too hungover.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “Or I could make breakfast since you let me stay over?” You suggested, giving him a smile. “But you’re a guest! I couldn’t do that-“ He gasped, shaking his head at the proposal. “Please? I want to. We could do it together it would be a bonding experience.” It was his turn to raise an eyebrow at you. “Have you seen any videos of me attempting to cook? Are you sure?” You laughed, giving his shoulder a light shove. “Have more faith in your abilities, and mine to keep things under control! We help each other out in games how much different could helping each other cook be?” He scoffed a bit, pretending to be hurt by your weak push to his shoulder.

“Hey uh….would it be okay if we- um…if we cuddled?” The blonde asked, voice just above a whisper. You beamed, choosing to snuggle up to him in lieu of an answer. Felix sighed in relief and pulled you closer. That familiar feeling bubbling up again as you began drifting off to sleep after such an eventful day.

“Goodnight, Starlight…” “Goodnight, Felix.”

author’s note; oh my goodness that was a long one compared to the first chapter- I’m sorry if any of the ending bits with all the boys seemed rushed ૮꒰ “ . . ꒱�� my editor (aka my partner lol) was taking too long and I’m too impatient and wanted to go ahead and post for you all! Thank you guys so much for the support already on this series! It really means a lot to me I can’t wait to see how you all like the story as it continues on~ please feel free to ask questions or give feedback I love to hear from you all truly it makes my day so bright as I hope my writing does for you all! Also you’ll notice below I’ve started a tag list for this series if you would like to be added just lmk and I’d be more than happy to do so (if not that’s completely fine I still appreciate you checking the story out!) I also quickly wanna say I am not sure if I’ll have a concrete posting schedule- I work full time and my job can be mentally draining at times so whereas some days (like today) I can spend all my free time writing updates (and then get too excited and post them right away) and others I may not have the energy or mental capacity. I do apologize in advance but you should never have to go more than a week without an update at the very most~ anyways I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and are looking forward to what may come next ᕱᕱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

tag list; @softkisshyunjin @coastinglove @palindrome969 @amara-mars

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