#for no reason i feel like?? they look like THIS and everyone idolizes them

[cultlix]

𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬

pair. recovering alcoholic! felix x recovering alcoholic! fem reader | genre. strangers-to-lovers, love lust at first sight, smut, slight angst | warnings. public sex, mutual masturbation, mentions of alcohol and smoke, allusion to depression.

synopsis. He laughs and somehow the air seems less frozen, the night less threatening. But danger still wafts there, undisturbed, engulfing everything like a blanket of smoke, as this desire, unforeseen, illogical, a restless butterfly flying over a minefield.

author's note. hi everyone! this is my first post and i couldn't be more electrified and terrified at the same time. hope you enjoy this story as much as i did while writing it but, otherwise, if you should ever feel upset or uncomfortable, please discontinue reading. thanks in advance for the time you'll decide to dedicate to my work.

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First it was nothingness.

An abstract concept to you, a silent reaper taking others' existences like pulling cards from the deck, mantling minds, slashing souls.

When you stretched out to look at its depths, it felt somehow due, necessary. In the deafening quietness of obedience, been swallowed by its vastness looked almost like a choice, never an aftermath.

Numbness came later. Amber liquids served in crystal glasses tasting like oblivion, like the promise of a ceasefire, an amnesty with your deep-seated urge to acquiesce, to please.

Now those who once idolized you as a monument of integrity are the ones who sew a scarlet letter on your chest. And yet, freefalling into that spiral of rashness was worth the loss of their esteem, their respect. Alcohol was never the main problem, your strict parents were, your demanding professors, and whoever taught you to demonize any form of failure.

But your worst defeat was granting them the power to indoctrinate you with this tenet, to pollute your brain.

You think about it each time you park your car in front of the A.A. meetings building, tonight like any other night, with a cigarette slowly consuming between your cracked lips, when you turn off the tapeplayer and echoes of old tunes still linger in the cabin, like spectres haunting a house, whispering stories you struggle to recognize as your own, recollecting fragments of a past that come and go in flares of rage and regret.

"Do you have a light?"

A guy stands in front of your open window. His skin is gilded like sand sprinkled on hands, ticklish between fingers, smelling like the salty breeze of a beach getaway. His voice is calm, profound, reminding the distant lapping of the waves against the shore.

You hand him your Zippo, the only thing that's left of a long term relationship started in your sophomore year of college. It almost persuaded you to wear a wedding veil but, in hindsight, it might have felt more like a crown of thorns around your head.

"Such a disgusting habit, yeah?" he admits, his big brown eyes sparkling behind long lashes that flutter for the proximity of the flame.

You get out of the car, closing the door and throwing away the cigarette butt. "Absolutely."

"I've tried quitting a million times, but I guess I'm not that good at setting goals."

"If we were, we wouldn't hold this conversation," you remark.

He runs his hand through his long, blond strands, tucking them behind his ear as he inhales avidly the smoke into his lungs. The tip of his tongue tracing the peaks of his Cupid's bow as he ventures locking eyes with you intently.

"And that would be a bummer."

You feel like your moral compass is at the mercy of his gaze, a dreamcatcher in the wind swaying at each violent gust. He smells like havoc and the inclination to chase it at any cost, slithering under your skin like an infection and digging deep in your heart. It blends with his cologne, hints of sage and vetiver, sucker punching your reason, blurring every notion you have of thin lines and boundaries. As most of the things that may lead you to perdition, this one, this beautiful stranger, is impossible to ignore, to decline.

"Felix," he says, waiting for his hand to be shaken.

"Y/N," you answer holding it, as the whole picture becomes clearer, the potential damage more evident. His touch is too casual, too fleeting to leave you so starved, caught in the crossfire between impulse and control, awaking tamed emotions you're not supposed, not allowed to feel.

"How long, Y/N?"

You show him your sobriety coin, now a makeshift keychain. "Three years."

"Same. Is it just me or you also still feel like dancing blindfolded on the edge of a cliff?" Felix takes the cig out of his mouth, watching the rolling paper burning down to the tan filter.

"Uhm, I only dance after a couple of shots, so..."

He laughs and somehow the air seems less frozen, the night less threatening. But danger still wafts there, undisturbed, engulfing everything like a blanket of smoke, as this desire, unforeseen, illogical, a restless butterfly flying over a minefield.

"I've done worst things than dancing, though."

"Ooh, a competion. Go ahead, amaze me," you press him, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, losing my job, distancing friends..."

"Dropping out of college, cancelling a wedding..."

Felix shows his palms as a sign of surrender. "Wow, that's tough, can't beat that."

He nods, then bites the inside of his mouth, pondering. "Fucking random people in a hall because you can't even make it to the doorway of their apartment and not giving a shit about getting caught."

"Who needs to drink for that?" you lean against your car, your eyes studying him, challenging him, betraying that ravenousness swept under the rug, floating in a corner of your mind where fantasies are not dicey sparks caressing the instinct, but deadly weapons.

He gets closer, leisurely, his gaze holding the same magnificence of a midsummer dusk tinged with cerulean and shell-pink shades.

"Not us," he asserts, his voice lowering, his angelic appereance buried under thick layers of brazenness.

"Nuh-uh. That would be a bummer."

"If we did," he continues, moving towards you, careful to detect any sign of reluctance for this outburst of audacity, "we wouldn't hold this conversation."

The sweetest of all menaces, the most sublime descent into the netherworld. Your same recklessness reflected in his eyes, a twin flame still burning unperturbed between dust and wreckages, fed by the mutual, feverish need to find relief in a contact, corporeal, earthly, real.

"You should have quitted smoking," you say under your breath, skimming the faux fur of his collar, feeling his chest resonating with each frantic beat of his heedless heart.

"You should have never looked so beautiful," he replies, emprisoning your frame between his and your car, forcing you to slightly open your legs. You sigh for how big he already is still confined to his clothes, for the friction, intense yet gentle, unexpected.

"So now it's my fault, right?" you try to articulate, waiting for him to grow, to throb, to rub unabashedly against your warmth, but he takes his time, twirling your hair around his fingers, his index sliding from your cheek to your collarbone.

"Oh, poor kitty, why's the world so mean to her?" He pouts playfully, index still tracing your exposed skin, "what a curse being a fucking temptress caged in an angel body. How can she be in any way responsable for that?"

"This is gonna wreck us in ways you can't even imagine..."

"Right now the only thing I can imagine is how I'd like to wreck this lovely mouth of yours," he whispers brushing his thumb against your lips, staring how easily they open at such a delicate pressure, foretasting, asking himself how they would wrap around him, how they would empty him.

You guide his hand on your hip, on the waist band of your jeans, his cold, hesitant fingers unbuttoning them, unzipping them just enough to reach the flimsy fabric of your panties, to sink in the sacredness of the forbidden, to stroke it, to find, under the fragile seams, the incarnation of your yearning, so tangible, implacable, overflowing.

"Shit."

You lead his fingertips against your folds, on your nub, swollen, sensitive, making flutter your eyelids when he starts circling it, limbs and voice shaking in the throes of a sudden, forgotten pleasure, words coming off in syncopated sighs.

"And you? Will you take any responsibility for the mess you've made of me?"

Felix tries to cover you with his coat while he drowns even more deeply, feeling you clutching and then surrendering to his presence, his fingers moving unhurriedly as your smell pervades his lungs, inebriating him. He almost squashes you against the car, his breath uneven, his groans throaty, breaking the stillness of the street when you palm him through his jeans, his hardness quivering underneath your firm touch.

Your hand glides inside his underwear, alabaster white rivulets of lust smear your digits, soften your movements, measured, consuming. He lowers his head, a cascade of golden silk partly draping his expression, half chary, half abandoned, torn between restraint and rapture.

This hankering's devastating, a cancer, seeping between his bones, corroding his discernment. His languid eyes can barely camouflage how it impels him to chase the thrill to tread treacherous grounds, to crash into the vortex.

He kisses you, he tears you to pieces with his teeth, dulls your sense with his tongue, he scratches and heals with the same carelessness of a torturer pointing out his supremacy. It's feral, liberating, the closest thing to defiance, to escape. Just two shadows, two solitudes combining, colliding in a dance of frenzied hands and insatiable bodies, suspended in a seraphic moment of alienation, lost in the illusion of an idyllic annihilation. It culminates in tremors and quavers, sighs overlap at unison, flesh blazing, muscles spasming in complete synergy, as he curls his arts in your cavity for the last time, as your grip strenghtens to prolong the chafing.

The awakening is harsh, cruel for both, like the glacial wind outside. Reality jostles to suffocate you again with its grey torpor.

"It was fun skipping the 'Can I get you a drink?' part for once," you pant.

"Totally," he answers, fastening his belt again.

"Healthier," you comment, absentmindedly.

"Cheaper."

You slap his arm and he chuckles.

"You know what I mean."

"Now comes the part where we pretend we'll see each other again."

Felix zips up your jacket, fixing your hair. "Who needs to pretend?" he states, gently grabbing your chin. "Not us."

"Not us," you echo.

© cultlix, 2024. all rights reserved.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[sydmarch]

is tasya vos actually similar to hannah geist or am I reaching & they're both just cronenberg women

[demaparbat-hp]

Hiya!! 👋🏼😄 How's it going? Your fashion taste for Zuko in a Modern AU seems to be artsy, or maybe "formal" is the word. That shirt he wore when he gave Sokka romantic song advice looked Versace🧐. Anyway, I was wondering how you came up with it, he always struck me more as the type that didn´t care much about fashion, so I'm curious about other´s opinions and heacanons about it. And do you have any other fashion headcanons for the rest of the GAang? Also, their music tastes. How did you come up with them? Especially Katara's! 😍

Hello! As it happens, I have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings™ about this, so I'm leaving these over here, and the rest of my ramblings down below the cut!

Let us begin with the Gaang, shall we?

SUKI always struck me as that Pretty Girl from the Gym. She is so incredibly fit it isn't even funny. She could kick anyone's ass, and we'd all thank her. She has this casual gym style that somehow always looks glorious on her, as it should! Comfy yet fashionable clothes for a nice workout or a day in town.

Her music tastes are basically any and all power songs from the eighties and nineties. (Eye of the Tiger, anyone?) She also enjoys metal via Toph, and bands like BSB, NSYNC, or Boyz II Men with Katara. My girl has a very eclectic Playlist and we all love her for it.

SOKKA is That Guy™. Loose T-shirts and shorts everywhere he goes, no matter the weather. He's stupidly into fashion but it doesn't show! At all! And everyone teases him about it. His closet is about 90% Cactus Juice merchandise, hence the "it's the quenchiest!" shirt.

His fashion and music tastes are pretty much the same. He loves poetry but isn't really into lyrics. He'll misinterpret just about anything you place in front of him. His Playlist is mostly vibes and tiktok songs he kind of enjoys. He isn't really into music...at least not as much as his sister.

AANG owns exactly one hoodie, one pair of shorts, and one beanie (THE beanie). Oh, and the crocs—don't forget the crocs. Somehow, he's always wearing the exact same outfit. Every. Single. Day. Ancient Gaang lore suggests that the day Aang goes out without his beanie, it's the end of the world.

His Playlist is the poppiest, most bizarre thing ever. Every single song is Happy by Pharrell Williams levels of happy. Yet sometimes, among the bouncy dance-to songs, you'll find the strangest of things... (He does know what Good Day by Twenty One Pilots is about. That's the reason he likes it so much, actually. And it's so weird.)

KATARA is all about sundresses and loose pants. The epitome of comfortable loveliness. Light fabrics in blue shades, careful embroidery, delicate shoes, and little to no accessories—hers is a simple, yet quite adorable, style. She just needs to add more colors to her usual palette...

She is, first and foremost, a Florence + The Machine girl. It's the Dark Goddess of the Sea vibes, to be honest. Florence Welch is her idol and yes, she will fight you about lyrics interpretation, and win. It may not seem like it, but her music tastes are also very varied.

She draws a little from each member of the Gaang, so you'll hear her humming along to Gorillaz (where did you even find out about them, Aang?), The Weeknd (I...don't think this song means what you think it means, Sokka...), and Hozier (Zuko why did you dedicate Talk to me, Zuko WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY THAT).

TOPH...ah, lovely girl. I'll summarise everything about Toph’s fashion sense in two words: comfort and rebellion. Stuffy dresses forced on her by billionaire parents? No thank you! Give her tank tops with loose shirts and short pants. Bandaids shared with Aang, bracelets from Katara, and even piercings she got in tandem with Sokka. Shoes? What even is that?

Something I love about this fandom is our collective agreement that Toph is into the dirtiest, heaviest, most ear-splitting and soul-crushing death metal of all times. Her Playlist is full of the most obscure names to ever exist, and she can and will blast through your walls with the sheer volume of her speaker.

Zuko. ZUKO.

Even in a modern AU my boy must suffer. That being said, I envision Tales from the Couch as—well, exactly what it is: an ATLA modern AU. While there is not a war to fight, and a lot of plot lines are discarded or expanded upon, much about the core story remains the same.

This is my way of saying that Zuko still goes trough his redemption arc, and it reflects on his fashion choices.

The way you described it works perfectly because of one single reason: in this AU, Zuko is an artist. He had to suppress his love for writing and drawing because of his background and the expectations Ozai had for him (taking over the family company), and a very large part of his redemption arc directly affects his relationship with art.

In the Couch equivalent of S1, Zuko has fallen out of Ozai's graces, and is desperate to protect his place in the company and the Kasai household. He's pretending to be someone he isn't and trying to live up to his Father's image of a perfect heir while still being somewhat cut-off financially, and it shows.

He's all about imposing long coats and a semi-formal style, imitating what he knows Azula and Father would respect. He's striking and sharp and dark. But no matter how he dresses or carries himself (that air of cold superiority and arrogance)—it won't help him when he needs it the most.

In S2, Zuko has hit his lowest point. He's officially disinherited and tossed away by his father, and would be out in the streets if it wasn't for Uncle Iroh. He goes from sharp, high-tailored outfits to old second-hand clothes that hang loosely on his frame. He starts smoking and cuts his hair off, forgoing the undercut for the first time in years.

But then...Father accepts him back. When Zuko returns home, it's with respect to his name and a very high position in his father's company. He's finally the perfect Kasai heir, dressed in overly expensive suits and finery, even at home... But Father forbids him from wearing Lu Ten's earring, and Zuko can no longer recognize himself without the familiar glint of gold dancing on his peripheral vision.

When Zuko leaves the Kasai name behind him and goes back to living with Uncle Iroh...he's finally at peace with who he is, and what he wants in this life. The sharp edges aren't gone (they'll always be a part of him, after all), but now they're dulled by looser clothes and softer hairstyles.

He's an artist, and for once in his life, he is determined to pursue his own ambitions. Zuko's outfits may not be designer-made anymore, but he takes what he has and makes himself look like he wants to look, like the person he wants to be.

He doesn't read fashion magazines or keeps up to the latest trends like Azula does. He's just...Zuko. And his newfound confidence makes everything he wears look like it belongs on him.

As for music...well, Ursa raised a literature boy.

He loves lyric-heavy music and natural voices, be they soothing or powerful. Dissecting song meanings and possible interpretations with Katara is one of his favorite parts of the day. They're both very passionate and strong-minded individuals, so it stands to reason that their debates can get quite...heated.

Zuko's Playlist is both incredibly eclectic and somehow very...him. There's a common thread that binds together every song and artist he likes, and he's hilariously unaware of this. To take a look into his Playlist is a higher honor reserved only for those closest to him.

In the wide spectrum of things, it is no wonder that Zuko is, first and foremost, a Hozier man. But though Andrew is his God in all aspects of this life, there's someone else that has had a huge impact on him...

Two someones, actually.

Zuko refuses to tell anyone how he got into Twenty One Pilots, but it's kind of a moot point when the beginning of his obsession is nothing compared to everything that came after. They have just about the right amount of everything that makes Zuko...well, Zuko. The poetic lyrics, the soothing or raging music, the heavy, intensely resonant themes...

Up there, in the second artwork, I placed an album cover behind each period of Zuko's life. The election of these records is intentional, as I feel like their general themes work incredibly well with Zuko's arc and growth.

Blurryface in S1. For the demons within us. For giving a name to our fears and shame.

Trench in S2. For escaping the confined walls of a depression city, and fighting to understand the depths of the map of your mind.

Scaled and Icy in the first half of S3. For returning to places you had left behind. For convincing yourself and everyone around you that you're fine, that you're perfect, even though everything is crumbling inside...

Clancy in S3. For recognizing that you can backslide, that you can have fears and shame and pain—but you're shaping yourself with each step you take. For knowing that seeking help from others is okay. Nobody learns to walk on their own.

(And, in the end, you'll always be better than the person you were yesterday. If only because you're still here. You're still alive. You're still yourself.)

.

Overall, I rambled a bit too much, don't you think?

If you made it all the way down here—thank you so much for reaching out and being interested in this crazy AU! I hope you enjoy these ideas and tell me some of your own ❤️

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐲 | 𝐞.𝐦.

Pairing Eddie Munson x Fem Reader [friends -> lovers]

Summary: You and Eddie ditch the party of the semester to fall into something you both know is meant to be [fluff, 3k]

A/N This is just fun, fluff, and feels. Felt like a vibe while I was writing it. This fic is part 1 of 3.

The music vibrates through the floor so intensely that Eddie can feel it in his bones. Even in the sunroom where he and a few others have settled. The small space gives sight to the backyard, where people mingle as they smoke, illuminated by string lights combating the night’s darkness. Those inside the house with him chatter, sing, and toss their heads back in carefree laughter, feet shuffling against the hardwood as they dance.

The entire scene buzzes with the kind of life only Steve Harrington’s place could ignite on a Friday night. One of these days, he swore he was going to loosen up and allow himself to get swept up in it too. 

For now, he watches. Eyes flitting to various faces, but always returning to you. If you weren’t smiling, you were talking, and the way your lips formed around your words was just as beautiful. The two of you spoke briefly when he first arrived, and he could still feel the delighted hug you’d given him over the fact that he decided to come. He wondered what he’d have to do to make it go away, but good thing he didn’t mind the feeling. It was a reminder of how much he wished your nearness could be all his forever.

Longing was a peculiar thing. Selfish in its occupation of his entire being. 

As Eddie takes another small sip from his drink, something fruity spiked with vodka, The Hair himself saunters up in front of him in a pair of slacks and a Polo sweater. Though rather polished for the occasion, it manages to look fitting on him. His cheeks are a little flushed and the metalhead raises a curious brow as his friend stares down at him with a smirk. 

Rebel Yell starts pulsing through the stereo as Steve offers him a hand off the couch. They end up weaving their way out back. The fall air is cool, but not all of summer’s warmth has vanished. A few people wave and greet them as they head towards a pair of chaise lounge chairs. Billy Idol’s voice is muffled as it continues thrumming from inside. Grooving bodies are visible through the windows as the party carries on. 

Steve pulls out a fancy metal cigarette case before they sit, flipping it open with a soft click. Eddie can’t help but snort as he relaxes into the chair. 

Steve’s brows furrow as he slips out a joint and begins lighting it. “What?” 

Eddie nods to the case in Steve’s lap. “Rich people shit.” 

Steve takes the first couple puffs before passing the joint to Eddie. “Jealous?” 

A smile cracks Eddie's face before he takes a drag. The answer is no, he isn’t. Once upon a time, jealousy was all he burned with, even though he was Hawkin’s poster child for no fucks given and had every reason to be grateful he wasn’t worse off. Grateful for Wayne, that he wasn’t in the pen with his deadbeat father, for finally finding solid friends. He had more than he could ask for, and it took growing up to see it. 

Eddie tips his head back and blows smoke up into the night before giving Steve his turn. What he can’t see is that your eyes have fallen on him from inside the house, sparkling and curious as Robin grins by your side. 

“So did I save you back there or what?” Steve asks as he ashes the joint onto the ground. “Looked like you were zoning in and out, man.” There’s genuine curiosity in his gaze though his tone is playful. 

Growing up with parents like his, Steve had gotten good at reading people. They vacationed a lot, but still managed to walk around with arc reactors in their chests whenever they were home. Bound to detonate in the wake of the most trivial inconveniences. Sometimes he wished he could shut everyone and their feelings out, but he wouldn’t quite be himself then. 

Eddie runs his ringed fingers through his hair. “Just a bit overwhelmed.” 

Steve takes a thoughtful look around. “These kinda things can be a lot.” 

Not even half the faces outside belong to close friends. There was a magic to it, nevertheless. For a few hours, everyone could throw their worries to the wind as Hawkins, Indiana began to feel less like a nowhere town and more like the top of the world. Lord knows Steve didn’t mind the distraction. 

“Not my scene,” Eddie settles on saying. The joint has found its way back into his hand. 

“Everyone’s got their escape,” Steve says. “You’re just too evolved for this one.” 

Eddie snorts. “Shut up.” 

“Yet here you are in the flesh,” Steve continues, thinking as Eddie smokes. “You should tell her how you feel.” 

Eddie coughs, lowering the joint from between his lips. “Dude. Fuck.” 

Steve bites back a smirk as Eddie recovers, extending his hand for the joint. Eddie refuses, taking another drag out of spite, for himself or Steve he isn’t sure. A distant swell of giggles makes multiple heads turn towards the back door, where you and Robin file outside. There’s an immediate flutter in Eddie's gut as he takes you in, your skirt flowing at your thighs. It takes him a second to realize you two are headed their way. 

By the time you make it over, Eddie has straightened up. Meanwhile Steve remains unphased. “Ladies,” Steve greets.  

Robin wrinkles her glittery nose at him. “Why weren’t we invited out here?” 

Chuckling, he makes room for her on his chair and she plops down beside him. “‘Cause you hate the way weed makes you feel like you’re going insane.” He leans into her with each word until she pushes him away with a helpless laugh.

“It’s the principle,” she counters. 

Eddie motions for you to join him and you smile as you take a seat beside him, bumping your shoulder against his in a gentle hello. When he offers you the joint, you shake your head. Steve reaches for it yet again, but Eddie pretends not to notice, taking another drag. A small smile pulls at your lips. 

“Actually, I think I will take a hit.” Eddie doesn’t hesitate passing it to you. 

Rather than indulging, you hand it to Steve, who laughs in victory. Eddie shakes his head, feigning betrayal in a way that earns a laugh out of you. It’s a sweet, melodic sound. He tries to ignore the way your thigh feels pressed against his, but it’s in vain. Even the vanilla notes of your perfume manage to cloud his mind in the softest way. No matter where he was, if you were near, he would always be painfully aware of your presence. 

It was your invitation that had driven him to this party in the first place. Although Steve’s invite came first, your insistence made him change his mind and say yes. Sweaty bodies and blaring music wasn’t your ideal scene either, but you gave in from time to time and looked good doing so. Earlier that night, Eddie almost hadn’t made it through Dancing In the Dark as you and Robin swayed and jumped around like you were alone in your room. There was something about the freeness of the way you moved that made it hard to look away. 

“Munson’s been meaning to tell you something,” Steve announces, looking straight at you.

Eddie’s heart drops into his stomach as he glares at Steve. Robin glances between the two of them, brows furrowed as amusement plays on her lips. You hug your arms as a cool breeze rolls through, but you’re more interested in what Eddie has to say than escaping the chill. In meeting your gaze, however, he silently begs you not to entertain the claim. It only piques your curiosity all the more. 

“Are you gonna spill or what?” Robin prompts.

“There’s nothing to spill,” Eddie insists, looking down to twist his skull ring. 

Reaching over into his lap, you gingerly take his hand into yours to slip off that very ring. He doesn’t pull away or argue, just watches as a helplessly warm feeling melts down his ribcage. His lips twitch upwards when you put it on your thumb because it’s the only finger big enough. It’s warm from being against his own skin for so long. Robin and Steve share a brief, knowing look.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.” There’s hope woven within the lilt of your voice. Eddie chuckles, and you commit the breathy sound to memory as if you’ll need it one day more than you do now. 

Robin slaps her hands against her knees. “Well, it’s getting kinda chilly out here so I’m gonna head back inside,” she says, rubbing her arms as she stands. 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” you tease. 

“I’ll stick to something tame like snooping around in Harrington’s room,” she says as she turns to leave. Steve rolls his eyes.

A comfortable silence settles between the three of you. However, his brows eventually pinch together as he reconsiders Robin’s words. Taking one last drag, he passes the joint back to Eddie.   

“She was joking, Steve,” you assure him, chuckling. 

“No she wasn’t,” he worries as he stands to jog back into the house. Eddie snickers. 

With a soft sigh, you lean back onto your hands, looking towards the sky as silence falls again. There are a few clouds visible in the light of the crescent moon, but the stars are everywhere. Like tiny shining freckles peppered against the face of the night. Part of you wonders if he’ll talk now. 

“What if the stars have been watching us back our entire lives?” you murmur. 

Eddie’s brows pinch together as he looks over at you, chest rattling with a startled laugh. “That’s something to think about.” His eyes are a bit glossier now. “Don’t think I’d mind if that were true.” 

You tilt your head, a smile budding on your face. “You wouldn’t mind billions of little eyes observing your day-to-day life?” you ask. “That’s a pretty big audience.” 

A grin eases across his face, half playful, half cocky. “I’m a pretty interesting guy.”

You lift a teasing shoulder, feigning indifference. “You’re alright.” 

Eddie laughs, but a weighted look flickers in his eyes as he studies you, catching the fondness you hadn’t tried all that hard to hide. Even with the pleasant buzz beneath his skin and somewhat of a looser mind, he can see it clearly. 

“Hey,” you speak up again. There’s a new softness to your voice, something mischievous dancing around the edges. “Wanna get outta here?” 

Eddie blinks like he can’t quite believe you’ve asked, but finds himself saying yes anyways.

••• 

Sitting in the passenger seat in his van, you realize you didn’t think much further than this. The air smells like him in all the best ways. Pinewood and faint cigarette smoke. As the engine rumbles to life, you shift in your seat and peek over at him, your confidence a distant memory. The radio bursts to life as well, but he quickly reaches out to turn it down. You bite back a smile at the fact that his skull ring is missing from his finger because it’s on yours. Eddie settles in with a sigh, turning to you. 

“So,” he says, eyes sparkling and a little red under the glow of the street lights. 

There’s an intensity to the warmth of his gaze. It drives you to hide your face in your hands. Which does nothing to make him disappear, if the way he exhales a chuckle is any indicator. “Stop looking at me, I didn’t think this far ahead.” There’s no real distress in your voice, only giddiness mixed with nerves. 

“Now I feel like an idiot,” you whine. 

“Well, you’re not.” He sounds more sincere than the moment calls for. “And I don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop looking at you, so I guess we’re both in a pickle.” 

“A pickle?” You snort, lowering your hands to meet his gaze. More laughter escapes you. Maybe it’s your body's way of not having to address the implication of his words. 

There’s a flutter in his gut as he watches you. It’s like old times, back when you were freshmen who stayed up too late laughing over the most ridiculous things. Except now, you were more than the girl who sat beside him in Biology because you thought it was cool he had a tattoo. You’d grown into a friend, perhaps even more. As composure finds its way back to you, that truth weighs heavy in the small distance between you.  

Eddie clears his throat. “We could hang at mine for a bit. Wayne’s at work.” When you don’t say anything, he bites the inside of his cheek. “It’s up to you.”  

“Sorry, yeah, that sounds good,” you breathe. 

Eddie gears the van into drive, only to put it back in park with a heavy exhale. You blink when angles himself to look at you, opening his mouth a few times before speaking. 

“There is something I need to tell you,” he admits. “No way in hell did I ever think we’d be friends, but you’re the raddest person I’ve ever met.” A lump forms in your throat as his words wash over you. “And you’re so pretty that sometimes I wonder how every guy in the world isn’t giving you whatever you want all the time.” 

You can hear your heart in your ears as you say, “Maybe that’s ‘cause there’s only one guy I want in the world.” 

•••

A small sound of surprise rises up your throat when Eddie backs you against his bedroom door. His apology is hushed against your lips as he continues kissing you, hands gentle where they grip at your waist, feeling along your sides. You’re warm all over as if you’re laid out before the sun, arms hooked around his neck. It hadn’t occurred to him how much he wanted to kiss you until you looked at his alarm clock and realized that it’d probably be best if he drove you home. It was well past midnight. Time had escaped you as you talked and laughed. 

When he does pull away, he studies your face like he’s looking for something. A few seconds pass, and he still doesn’t know what for. Perhaps your smile as it shyly appears. You move your hands to cup his face, thumbs stroking his flushed cheeks. You’ve never been close enough to notice he has the faintest freckles over the bridge of his nose. It almost feels like you’re getting a glimpse at sacred markings you’re not supposed to see. 

Eddie remembers to breathe when you peck his lips again, running your fingers through his hair. His breath is startled out of him, more like. It’s a wonder his knees haven’t buckled beneath him. He wants to kiss you again to see if that’ll finally knock him back down to earth, but instead he exhales the softest sigh over your lips, squeezing your hips to confirm you’re real. He’s not expecting the sense of guilt that creeps up on him. 

Your brows pinch together. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. I just… I haven’t taken you on a date or bought you flowers.” He swallows. “I swear you’re worth all that, swear I’m gonna.” 

You gently scratch his scalp. “That’s nothing to worry yourself over.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “Don’t want you to feel like I’m just trying to come onto you,” he says. “I like you a lot—”  

“If it’s any consolation, I’ve been wanting to kiss you forever too.” Your voice sounds braver than you feel. 

A smile breaks across his face as he rests his forehead against yours. “Well, that’s maddening news.” 

Humming, you kiss him again, delicately running your tongue along his lips so he shivers. “Where are we gonna go?” you breathe, clarifying when he makes a soft, confused sound, “For our first date.” With the way you continue kissing him, he assumes you don’t really want an answer, that you’re trying to drive him crazy on purpose. 

His mind changes when you gently push his chest so he knows to pull away. He listens immediately, eyes dazed. 

“Maybe the arcade,” you supply, toying with the hem of his shirt. “Or a picnic by the lake.” Your hands slip under his shirt, gracing the skin of his lower stomach, your touch sending a rush of heat through him faster than any high ever could. 

You’re not trying to be suggestive, it’s more exploratory. A shared thrill in finally being able to touch him how you’ve wanted for so long. Eddie’s hands remain at your waist, grounding him even as he feels his resolve starting to slip. 

As much as he wants to indulge a step further, maybe even several, he holds himself back. It might be old-fashioned, but he wants to do this right, do a bit of course correction. He can almost hear Uncle Wayne’s voice from those lazy afternoons of his younger years, talking about life and how to treat a lady. 

“Next Friday,” he says, staring into your eyes intently. “It’ll be nice. I’ll surprise you,” he promises, taking your hands in his, relishing their softness, their warmth. His skull ring is still on your thumb. 

“Really?” Your smile is unabashed. 

He nods, a grin creeping onto his face. “It’s a date.” 

-

Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think. 

Turn on notifications for @taleseverlasting so you don’t miss the next one.

NEXT PART (18+)

MORE

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

weirdness

OKAY

Why’s Skully’s idea of the ideal Halloween so jank??? Bro wants:

No candy (he says it’s frivolous and therefore unnecessary; Trey and Riddle argue for candy, RIDDLE defends CANDY)

No decorations (he calls for modesty and simplicity)

No color (just rooms painted entirely black with a single lit pumpkin; Vil and even Malleus, who often wears mostly black, areagainst this idea)

No music, no dancing (only silence; he says music and dancing is inappropriate even after the mermen talk about the importance of music)

To beat back (bad) ghosts (even though this holiday is meant to honor them all and their temporary return to the land of the living; Leona, Sebek, and Jamil are appalled at the suggestion, calling it discourteous)

Very odd how his entire concept of Halloween contradicts his idol’s vision for it?? Especially since Skully claims he and his entire village supposedly worship Jack Skellington as the founder of the holiday. In fact, Skully seems to be experiencing cognitive dissonance when Jack proposes a Halloween with all the things Skully disapproves of, but agrees to help with Jack’s vision anyway. What kind of twisted version of history do they have in his hometown…? Are Jack and Halloween as a whole just super dull there???

AND TO TOP IT ALL OFF, Skully js disappointed when you disagree with him… There’s also a very strange personality shift between Skully’s upbeat, gentlemanly self and the Skully that makes that deranged expression, speaks ill of dissenters, and gets gloomy when his ideas are rejected. His wording is also very odd???? He says things like he’ll teach everyone what a “proper” Halloween is, which is very reminiscent of how controlling Riddle was back in book 1. Skully also talks about LOT about reflection and atonement. He also mentions it is his duty/reason why he was brought to this world/book… to show everyone what Halloween truly is.

HOW IS SKULLY JUST AS CONSERVATIVE AND VAGUELY RELIGIOUS AS ROLLO???????? 😭 Look, it’s okay to have a different perspective on Halloween and want to celebrate it differently than the modern and more commercialized version of it, but there’s no need to be upset about it when you get outvoted??? (Not the NRC students were the most polite when they told Skully off, but still…) Really not sure how to feel about this.

Starting to think your classmates were right about you being WEIRD, Skully 💀 I didn’t buy the “he’s a cultist” or “he’s old/dead” or “he’s Rollo’s dead brother” theories but now I’m really eyeballin’ him suspiciously… (Not that I believe the theories now, but something is definitely up with him.)

[bangtanintotheroom]

Make Me Water (M)

Can you blow my mind?

Set off my whole body

If I give you my time

Can you snatch my soul from me?

🔊 water - tyla; make me - britney spears, g-eazy; the look - ali gatie, kehlani; meeting in my bedroom - silk; tonight - dxvn., daniel di angelo; slidin' - kai and more... 🔊

• Pairing: Seonghwa x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Friends to Lovers, Smut, Fluff

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 14.4k

• Summary: The most unexpected topic comes up during a drinking session with your friends, leading to one of them making a rather bold claim. You declare that they’re full of shit and unintentionally make them determined to prove you wrong.

• Warnings/themes: drinking, swearing, explicit sexual content, discussion about inappropriate topics, Seonghwa and his bedroom eyes 😶, Y/N is in for the ride of her life, bickering, making out, body worship, teasing, edging, praise, fingering, squirting (it’s gon be real wet up in here 🗣️💦), dirty talk, oral (f. and m. receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, multiple positions, unprotected sex (dooon’t do this), aftercare

• Notes: She's heeeeere~ I feel like I've been through the wringer working on this one, so I hope it was worth the wait! Thank you to @wooahaeproductions for beta'ing! 💖

“Alright, alright, it’s my turn now!”

Wooyoung’s exclamation made you and a couple of others look around with apprehension; nothing good came from his drunken mouth ninety percent of the time. But you humored him nonetheless by encouraging, “Go on, Woo.”

You and your group of friends had gathered at your place for the weekly hang out that involved food, drinks and conversations that could either start debates or leave everyone on the floor dying of laughter. Tonight was no exception as empty bottles of soju and beer laid across the coffee table, along with plates that once housed food that everyone brought.

Now that stomachs were full and inhibitions were lessened, in came the inappropriate discussions.

Wooyoung straightened his posture, looking like the Cheshire cat as he crowed, “What’s something you’ve always wanted to try in bed that you haven’t yet?”

Reactions varied. Some immediately looked up as they searched for an answer while others took a sudden interest in their drinking glasses. You were of the former as you scanned your brain, only for Mingi to step up to the plate first.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to have sex while driving.”

Sakura quipped over her glass with, “Like road head or full on sex?”

“Road head, I guess. Not trying to wreck my car.”

Jongho couldn’t help but scoff, “Like you would have less of a chance of crashing from that.”

Mingi waved the younger man off, clearly not wanting his fantasy to be ruined.

“Whatever. Ningning, you go now.”

“Huh?! Why me?”

“Because you’re sitting next to me, we’re going around in a circle.”

Ningning didn’t seem too pleased with his reasoning, elbowing him sharply before gathering her thoughts.

“Uh…I guess—” Her pretty face scrunched up. “—I wouldn’t mind getting tied up.”

Everyone lit up with curiosity, but it was overshadowed from Jongho nearly choking on his beer all of a sudden. Seonghwa was quick to lean over and pat his back to help out.

“Easy there.”

“I’m—” A cough. “—fine, hyung, thanks.”

Wooyoung leaned forward, eyes scrunched as he stared down Ningning.

“Eh? Bondage? Our little Ningning is into that?”

“Okay, one, don’t call me little or I’ll throw something at you. Two, I haven’t tried it yet.”

“But you want to one day.”

Knives might as well have gone into Wooyoung with the way she glared him down.

“Isn’t that the point of this game? Dumbass.”

You were quick to jump in with, “Ning, I think we need to keep you away from the soju, even though Woo deserves every word you’re hurling at him.”

“Hey!”

Ningning huffed, crossing her arms before leaning back against the couch. “Whatever. Jongho, are you alright? Sorry if I scared you.”

Jongho was under control now, although his cheeks had a slight flush to them.

“Y-Yes, Ningning…you didn’t scare me, just took me off-guard.”

She giggled, doing a complete one-eighty from her interaction with Wooyoung.

“Did I? I’ll try not to do it again, ‘kay?”

Whatever Jongho was about to reply with dwindled into a sheepish chuckle when her hand patted his.

“O-Okay.”

“Anyways—” The attention was back on Wooyoung again, thanks to his obnoxious call. “—since you’re back in action, it’s your turn now.”

“Huh?! Oh…”

The way the poor kid deflated had you about to pipe up to defend him, only for Seonghwa to beat you to it.

“Wooyoung, take it down a notch, will you?”

The offender placed a hand on his chest as if he was falsely accused of a crime. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was around a bunch of wet blankets. Look, if he wants to skip, fine. Don’t need him choking to death.”

Just as Seonghwa was about to scold again, Jongho waved a hand to ease the tension.

“Hyung, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure? Don’t let him pressure you.”

The younger man gave his elder a toothy grin in reassurance.

“Yes.”

“You heard him, mom, let him answer!”

Seonghwa sighed in defeat, shaking his head as he got comfortable in his spot next to you again. You leaned in to whisper, “There’s no winning against Woo when he’s drunk, I thought you knew that by now.”

Your friend chuckled lowly, bumping your thigh with his hand.

“Thank you for the reminder. Say it a little earlier next time, yes?”

A giggle escaped, from both his quip and the light touch.

“Yes, Hwa.”

Remembering that Jongho was about to answer now, you tuned out of your brief conversation with the man beside you and back to the group.

“I always…”

Hesitation spread over Jongho’s face as he trailed off; whatever he wanted to say must have been too much for his introverted self to admit. But Wooyoung was quick to encourage him by saying, “Come on, Jongho, spit it out! This is a no judgment zone.”

The younger man gave his friend a look of gratitude before taking a deep breath. “Okay, okay. Um…I’ve always been curious about…”

With his teeth coming on full display and his full cheeks reddening further, he unloaded.

“Squirting?”

Between Mingi spitting out his beer, Wooyoung screeching in surprise at the mess that landed on him, Sakura and Ningning gasping and your jaw dropping, the room went in an uproar.

“Yah, you got beer on me!”

“Serves you right for starting this in the first place.”

“Huh?! Jongho, are you for real?”

“Yes! What’s wrong, i-is it too much?”

Sakura waved her hands in placation, continuing, “No, it’s not! I’m just surprised to hear that from you, of all people.”

He was quick to straighten up, eyes narrowing in defense. “What is that supposed to mean?!”

“You seem so…clean-cut?”

“Yeah, not like someone who wants their mattress turned into a water bed.”

Jongho snapped at Mingi’s confusion with, “I’m not talking about a whole geyser, that’s fake! Just a little bit, you know?”

The tall man still looked unconvinced, full lips pursed.

“Okay, but, is it even possible?”

“Yeah, I heard it’s not easy to do—” Wooyoung had the nerve to wiggle his fingers in the air. “—gotta have the magic touch.”

Of course, the troublemaker himself glanced at you, Sakura and Ningning before questioning, “Unless either of you lovely ladies have experience in that area?”

Ningning shook her head swiftly. “Never.”

Sakura lifted her chin. “Nope.”

Which left you to end the interrogation with, “No, and it won’t ever happen.”

Wooyoung backed off, humming in curiosity. Just when it seemed that he was going to move on to the next victim, a voice next to you spoke.

“I’ve seen it happen before.”

Every eye in the room landed on Seonghwa, looking as casual as ever despite his controversial statement.

“Eh? What do you mean?”

He looked at Jongho casually while lifting his glass to his lips. “I’ve made someone squirt before.”

Sheer chaos erupted all at once. While everyone else talked over each other, you gawked at your friend. You did not expect something like that to come out of Seonghwa, of all people.

Seonghwa, who kept a close eye on your group during every outing.

Seonghwa, who stayed up until 3 AM playing Animal Crossing.

Prim, proper and pretty Seonghwa, who just admitted to causing an obscene act in the bedroom.

“How?!”

“Patience and knowing what they like. You also have to make sure they’re comfortable or you won’t get anywhere.”

It was ironic to see how fixated Wooyoung was on the topic, seeing as he was the one who started this game out of sheer debauchery, inquiring, “Was it planned? Or did it just happen out of nowhere?”

“It was unexpected but intriguing. We were just doing the usual and I could feel something different. Before I realized it, there was a huge mess.”

You could have sworn you heard a hint of smugness in his tone.

“Damn…from fingering or fucking?”

A tilt of his lips.

“Both.”

Wooyoung sat back, looking more than impressed at his friend’s prowess. But you weren’t on board like the others were. Squirting always seemed like something that was exaggerated by people who didn’t have much to brag about in the bedroom. Therefore, you couldn’t help but interrupt the questioning.

“You sure they didn’t pee on you?”

Seonghwa turned his head, looking unimpressed with your snark. “I’m pretty sure.”

Your brow lifted.

“It only happened that one time?”

“Yes.”

You shrugged your shoulders.

“Maybe you just got lucky.”

The ‘oooh’ echoing from your friends only amplified the taken aback expression on Seonghwa’s face.

“I think she’s calling you bad in bed, Hwa.”

“No, I’m not! I’m just skeptical, is all. Anyways—” You shot a placating smile to everyone. “—why don’t we move on to the next victim?”

Wooyoung cackled, “Now you’re speaking my language, Y/N! Sakura, you better answer with something to upstage hyung!”

“Wooyoung-ah, don’t put so much pressure on me!”

Following her whine, the group focused their full attention on the young woman, especially you as you pushed the previous topic to the back of your head. But while you were laser-focused on every single person who went next, you were unaware of the constant glances Seonghwa would shoot at the side of your head, something brewing deep in his dark eyes.

After the tumultuous discussions finally dimmed, you retreated into the kitchen to begin washing the pile of dishes from dinner. Despite the multiple offers of help, you turned them down. You could use some peace and quiet for a moment.

The dull thrum of conversation in the background was all the noise you needed as you began working on whatever was in the sink. But then you felt someone coming up to stand to your right once you got two plates in.

You didn’t even need to look up to know who was butting in.

“Do you not know the meaning of relax?”

Seonghwa hummed playfully, reaching for one of the soaped-up dishes in your sink. “No, not really.”

A huff left as you allowed him to help. No point wasting energy in saying no.

You scrubbed each one as well as you could before passing them off to your friend to rinse. Even though you knew he should have been kicking back in the living room with the others, his assistance was appreciated. You greatly underestimated how hard dried tteokbokki sauce was to get off.

“So what are they talking about now? How to recreate positions from porn?”

Seonghwa chuckled at your quip. “No, they’re laser-focused on the game.”

“Good. I still can’t believe we even had that conversation earlier.”

“You know how Wooyoung and the others get when they drink.” A pause came before he spoke lowly, “They didn’t make you feel uncomfortable, did they?”

The way concern painted his tone made you look up, seeing his face expressing the same emotion. Leave it to him to always look out for you.

“Not at all. I was taken off-guard—” You gave a reassuring smile. “—but it definitely livened up the night.”

He smiled with relief, taking another bowl from you to rinse off and dry.

“Although I have to admit, you caught me by surprise.”

“What, because of what I said?”

You hummed as you put your muscles into scrubbing a stubborn stain, “Mhm. Doesn’t seem like your kind of thing.”

Seonghwa huffed playfully, “Well, you never expressed any interest in my intimate life, so I didn’t have a reason to inform you.”

His remark made your eyes roll.

“I mean that it doesn’t seem like something your prim and proper self would be into.”

“You say that like sex isn’t meant to be the opposite of that.”

You shrugged. “I stand by what I said. Besides, you probably just got lucky with whoever she was.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Seonghwa turning his head to lift a defined brow. “What makes you say that?”

Wanting to emphasize your opinion, you paused your hands to give your friend a matter-of-fact expression.

“Because a lot of women can’t squirt. I don’t care what ‘experts’ say, it’s damn near impossible.”

To your surprise, he frowned. “Y/N, do you really think I’m lying?”

“Not lying, just taking an inch and making a mile out of it—” You went back to giving the dirty dishes attention. “—maybe if I saw it in person, it’d be a different story.”

After that, it was silent, save for the faint cheers of your friends in the living room. You figured that was the end of that conversation.

“Why bother telling you when I could just show you?”

Your fingers seemed to lose their grip on the plate, clattering into the sink loudly.

What? He did not just say that.

You turned to gawk at Seonghwa before stuttering, “H-Huh?”

He was nonplussed as he met your eyes, repeating, “I could just prove you wrong. Actions speak louder than words, no?”

Was he fucking serious? Seonghwa offering to show you how he could make you squirt?

“Hwa, you…you’re joking, right?”

“I’m not.”

Judging by the look on his face, he really wasn’t.

Feeling a heat begin to creep up the back of your neck, you tore your gaze away to grab the plate, picking it up and checking to see if it suffered any damage from your slip-up.

“Come on, be for real right now. I can’t do that.”

“You can’t let me touch you or you can’t squirt?”

You almost threw the abused dish back down as your head whipped up to fix him a flustered glare.

“Both! One, we’re friends. Two, I’ve never squirted and I never will.”

Seonghwa gave you an equally stern look, firing back, “We’re both single and it would just be between the two of us. And have you ever even tried?”

“N-No, but—”

“So how would you know?”

You pursed your lips, feeling a wave of frustration mixed with defeat overcoming you. It wasn’t fun to admit, but he had a point.

He could probably tell by the look on your face that you knew this, yet he didn’t gloat or prod you further. Seonghwa just kept watching and waiting for your next defense to come out. But it didn’t come for a while as your mind raced with thoughts, coming up with one that took you for a spin.

Would it really be so bad to say yes?

If you had to be honest, a part of you always entertained escaping the friend zone with Seonghwa. Yes, he was an incredibly good-looking man, but that could only get you so far. It was his personality that made your mind wander, as well.

There was always something so incredibly attractive about someone who looked out for you and your best interests. It wasn’t just with you, but with others as well. The amount of times he had jumped in to assist (especially with Jongho and Wooyoung) with getting them out of messes was too frequent.

But this was your friend. And friends and sex mixed together could either end up turning into something beautiful or an absolute disaster.

“Seonghwa.”

“Hm?”

You peered up at him with confusion. “Why me?”

For a moment, your friend said nothing while keeping his stare on you. But then the gentlest of smiles stretched his lips before he explained, “Why not?”

Flabbergasted. Flustered. Any word to match your current feeling was necessary.

His reason was as simple as that?

“Hwa, the TV is acting up again, can you help us?”

Sakura’s sudden shout made the two of you jump, Seonghwa turning his head to call out, “Give me a second!”

You couldn’t help but freeze when his dark eyes landed on you again, steady as if you two didn’t have an inappropriate conversation just now.

“No pressure, Y/N. Excuse me.”

And then he left you alone in the kitchen, reeling and staring at the spot he was previously in.

What the hell?

Desperate to distract yourself from what occurred, you turned to face the sink again. Cleaning up was considerably slower this time, thanks to your hands trembling. When you dropped the same butter knife for the third time, you swore under your breath and placed your palms on the edge of the counter, holding on tight. It was to try and get your nerves under control, but alas, you ended up pondering Seonghwa's offer in the meantime.

You sighed heavily, hanging your head for a moment as you reminded yourself to grab a shot before heading back to the others.

The rest of the night went smoothly with spikes of excitement, courtesy of Jongho and Ningning’s impromptu duet and Mingi’s long-winded explanation of how ants were the most useless bugs in existence. You tried your damnedest to focus on them and give your own input, but it was difficult thanks to the source of your troubles sitting right next to you.

You tried to play it cool, even though you kept stealing glances at Seonghwa, acting as nonplussed as ever. It didn’t help at all when he decided to perch his head on your lap, humming as he looked ready to fall asleep at any moment.

Bastard.

Mercy was granted when everyone decided to head out later on. You saw them out with hugs and promises to make plans for next week’s hangout, save for Seonghwa who decided to stay behind to help with the last bit of cleaning. You cursed his consideration, still feeling too shaken to be able to stay alone in the same room as him. As long as you avoided his eyes, you were okay.

When he finally decided to leave, you felt an odd mix of relief and disappointment. His offer hadn’t been brought up again since earlier, leaving you to wonder if he was fully serious or just taking the piss out of you.

“Are you alright?”

You broke out of your thoughts, seeing Seonghwa observing you with concern.

“Yeah, Hwa…I think I’m just ready for bed, that's all.”

“You do look tired. Let me get out of your hair, then.”

And so you walked him to your front door, the feeling still lingering inside your chest. You tried your best to stifle it as you unlocked the door, giving your friend a smile.

“Thanks for the help, Hwa.”

He gave you one of his gorgeous, toothy grins, making your gut flip in protest. “Of course, Y/N.”

And like always, he reached his arms out, waiting until you stepped into them to receive a tight hug.

A hug that made you a little giddy at times yet hit ten times harder tonight.

“Have a good night.”

Why did he have to whisper it like that? And so close to your head?

“You too. Get home safe.”

Reluctantly, you let him go, watching as he stepped over the threshold. But as soon as both feet passed, that ball of tension inside crawled up and out of your mouth.

“Seonghwa.”

You almost didn’t recognize your voice, trying not to mull over it too much as said man turned to look at you. Hesitation wracked you before you were able to muster a necessary question.

“Are you free this weekend?”

“I am. Why?”

Would you regret what you were about to do? Or would you be unlocking the door to something new and exciting?

There was no point in analyzing further as you gathered up every last one of your nerves to look him in the eye.

“I have a challenge for you.”

You were a fool. A horny, little fool who let her pussy take over her mind.

As badly as you wanted to blame Seonghwa for even putting this crazy idea into your head, it was absurd to try. You were the one who accepted his offer and you were the one currently driving over to his place to see if he could put his money where his mouth was.

Just the curious thoughts you had about what he might do had you gripping the steering wheel tighter.

They came to a halt when you parked and began making your way up to his apartment, trying not to look too jumpy to the doorman who always greeted you. You were no stranger to visiting, but a silly part of you became paranoid that he’d see right through and decipher the naughty reason that you were really here. But your facade remained steady until you made your way off the elevator and headed straight for one of the doors in the hallway.

You took in a deep breath, soothing your nerves a mite before ringing the doorbell. Whatever composure you mustered dwindled when Seonghwa answered a few seconds later, looking effortlessly gorgeous as ever. Yes, even in a plain white tee and gray sweats.

Damn. You probably looked basic as fuck with your simple cami and leggings on.

“Y/N.”

The pleasant smile he gave reflected on your own face as you brought a mildly shaky hand up to give a short wave.

“I made it.”

“I can see that. Come in.”

As soon as he stepped aside, you entered, sliding your shoes off as he shut the door.

“Busy day today?”

You shrugged as you pushed your footwear to the side of the welcome mat. “Busy enough. I took it easy, honestly.”

“Saving your energy for tonight?”

The tips of your ears heated up at the ever so subtle upturn of his lips. Leave it to him to be direct.

“Maybe.”

Seonghwa chuckled as you looked anywhere but at him, leaning his shoulder against the door and folding his arms across his chest. “No need to be so awkward, Y/N.”

You groaned and looked up at the ceiling before griping, “Hwa, I just came over to your apartment to see if you could get me to squirt. How can I not be awkward?”

Your friend’s humorous smile grew into a reassuring one as he returned to his full height, reaching one of his hands out to hold yours.

“You shouldn’t feel awkward because it’s just between the two of us and we’re going to have a good time.”

The touch and reassurance from him eased your nerves a little, but…

“But what if I don’t end up doing it?”

Seonghwa’s expression became a bit serious now. 

“Then we’ll figure it out, if we hit that wall. Either way, no pressure—” His thumb rubbed the back of your hand. “—I just want you to enjoy yourself.”

Your heart couldn’t help but warm. Despite the fact that he brought this up in the first place, he gave you the choice to tap out whenever you wanted. But there was a bud growing inside you now. A bud that was determined to at least attempt to see his claim through.

“Thank you, Seonghwa. I, um, hope I don’t disappoint you.”

He grinned lightly, giving your palm a careful squeeze.

“I’m sure you won’t. Do you need anything right now?”

Considering that you did all your grooming and usual sex prep at home, you were ready to get straight to business.

“No, I’m good.”

Seonghwa nodded at your answer, letting go of your hand. “Alright. Just head to my room and get comfortable, I have to grab a few things first.”

Although you raised your eyebrow at whatever ‘a few things’ was, you let it slide and turned to walk towards his bedroom. Out of all the times you had been in there, heading past the door had you overcome with a different emotion this time. Well, three.

You were nervous, cautious and excited at the same time. Maybe there was a name for that somewhere out there, but you deemed it unimportant at the moment as you sat on the foot of his bed. 

His room was familiar, so you couldn’t distract yourself by looking around. For now, you clasped your hands and twiddled your thumbs, watching them with mild interest. The sound of Seonghwa finally entering brought your attention away from your appendages, only for your brows to nearly raise into your hairline with the things your friend had bundled in his arms.

Two water bottles.

A bath towel.

A portable speaker.

“You’re really turning this into a whole experience, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I want to make sure you’re as relaxed as possible.”

Something clicked and you made a noise of realization. “Is that why you asked me to send you a bedroom playlist over?”

“Mhm.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly and shake your head.

“Seonghwa…it almost feels like you’re trying to seduce me.”

He giggled at the accusation, setting the stuff down on the bed before grinning mischievously.

“Is it working?”

In all honesty, it wouldn’t have taken much on his end to seduce you, but there was no way in hell you were going to say that out loud.

“I’ll give you an A for effort.”

“Hmph, good enough.”

With that, Seonghwa grabbed the speaker to start setting it up with his phone.

“Oh, I forgot to mention—” He paused and turned his head to look at you. “—you might want to use the bathroom before we start.”

His suggestion made your face scrunch in confusion. “I don’t really have to go, though…”

“Even if you don’t, it’ll give you peace of mind. Just so you know that you don’t have to go during. Trust me.”

Well, you weren’t going to keep fighting the supposed squirting expert, so you shrugged and stood up to head to the bathroom. After doing the little bit of business you had and cleaning up, you returned to Seonghwa’s room, only to be greeted by a few different things.

Familiar music entered your ears and your eyes noticed the large bath towel spread out in the middle of his bed, the dark terrycloth contrasting with the light blue comforter. Seonghwa had his back turned to you, too occupied in fussing with something at his nightstand to notice your appearance. You cleared your throat after a few seconds, capturing his attention as he looked over his shoulder.

“All done?”

You gave a nod as you walked up to him.

“Are you all put together now?”

He chuckled a little, returning your nod. “As much as I can be, yes.”

Despite his answer, there was a bout of silence between the two of you afterward. It seemed that neither of you didn’t know how to continue. Thankfully, he stepped up to the plate.

“Should we sit?”

His motioning to the foot of the bed forced you to swallow the sudden jump of nerves, moving forward to sit down, the other following suit. Your eyes remained on the carpet, tapping your bare feet on it as you came to terms with what was about to happen. It was a miracle that you could hear the music over the hammering of your heartbeat.

“You look nervous.”

You brought your eyes up to see Seonghwa giving you a sympathetic smile. It only made you clear your throat and look away with timidity.

“Can you blame me? This is an…unexpected development in our relationship.”

A quiet hum. “It definitely is.”

Both of you stayed silent, breaking when you heard him whisper, “I wasn’t sure if you’d say yes.”

You whipped your head back around, blinking at his change in tone.

“I was expecting you to curse me out completely for even bringing something like this up.”

You assumed that you were the only one internally freaking out about this, but it was clear by the way Seonghwa kept tapping his bouncing leg that he was struggling to adjust too. Endeared and relieved by his behavior, you carefully bumped your leg into his.

“Well, you seemed so sincere in your offer and knowing you, you wouldn’t risk it if you knew I was gonna flip, right?”

Your mild teasing paired with encouragement made his demeanor brighten, teeth flashing.

“Right.”

Both of you giggled, feeling a little more at ease now. It led to Seonghwa taking your hand in his now, the touch comforting as he gazed into your eyes with a seriousness.

“There’s still a chance for you to back out, Y/N. It’s your call.”

Seonghwa’s body language was pretty clear in what answer he really wanted to hear. The way he continuously brushed his thumb over your knuckles and looked deep into your eyes let you know how much he was looking forward to this experience.

And yet he still gave you full control over it.

A grateful smile couldn’t help but stretch over your lips as you completely made up your mind. Your palm turned over to still his wandering thumb, scooting closer until your knee touched his own.

Leaning in, you whispered into his ear, “Show me what you can do.”

As soon as you pulled back, you could see the shift in Seonghwa’s expression, one that was new to you but brought a thrill down your spine. With a firm nod, he brought up his free hand to hold your jaw with caution. His head came in, tilting before you closed your eyes. A second later, you felt his lips claiming yours for a kiss.

A kiss that was everything you thought of and everything you never anticipated.

You always expected him to be an expert at this. Which was probably dumb of you to assume, considering you never got anything more than a hug out of your friend, but what was the harm in wishful thinking? At least he proved you right with the way he let passion slowly drip into it and kept his hands touching you.

Your body slowly crept up in temperature as the minutes went by. By now, you were giving back as much as you could in the kiss, one of your own hands holding onto his t-shirt. The urge to venture underneath kept striking, yet you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself without asking. You reluctantly pulled your lips off of Seonghwa’s, only enough to whisper, “Can I take your shirt off, Hwa?”

He was quick to give a nod of approval, sitting back before taking your hand and moving it to brush against the hem. Before you could lose your nerve, you took hold with both hands, waiting for your friend to lift his arms and sliding the fabric up carefully. You tossed it to the floor as soon as it was off, breath catching at what was in front of you now.

This wasn’t the first time you had seen Seonghwa shirtless, but the current circumstances made the sight more tantalizing than usual. Although you had noticed the light definition of his lean torso prior to today, knowing that you were about to have free reign made the urge to touch him even stronger. With a burst of want, your fingers began exploring his warm skin, watching and listening as he reacted to your touch.

The barely audible hums and sighs falling from his lips were eventually silenced when he leaned in for another kiss, the intensity turned up a notch this time. Feeling your friend groan into your mouth whenever you brushed a sensitive spot was a privilege you never thought you would get.

And one you didn’t want to give up any time soon.

But then Seonghwa was pulling away, making you nearly choke on the whine you had to hold back. Your disappointment was swiftly alleviated when you saw his hands go for the bottom of your shirt now. His brow raised as he questioned softly, “May I?”

Your response was an encouraging nod. Repeating his motions from earlier as the roles were reversed, you tried to ignore the anxious, little voice in your head as your clothing came off and ended up on the bedroom floor. It was also a result of spending nearly an hour deciding on what underwear to don, which in the grand scheme of things, was stupid. But you wanted to at least leave him with a good impression.

Which may be what you’re getting, judging by the smallest tilt of his mouth as he looked you over.

“What?”

“Would I sound arrogant if I asked if this was for me?”

Your nerves eased as you giggled and gave his leg a light kick.

“You would…but I’d let it slide.”

“Would you?”

“Mhm—” The attention made you push your chest out a bit. “—figured I’d wear my good stuff for a special occasion.”

Seonghwa chuckled lowly, glancing at the motion before returning to your face. “Well, I feel very grateful right now.”

His words solidified that you made an excellent choice today. 

While you were mentally patting yourself on the back, he began leaning in again, only for his lips to land on your jawline. The sensation brought a pleasant shiver down your spine, increasing when he started moving lower. Brushing over your pulse point made it come stronger this time.

You tipped your head back to give your friend more room to work with, getting lost in the sensations. The feelings gave way to a gentle warmth that crept up on you the longer Seonghwa kept kissing, spiking into a small fire every time he hit a sensitive spot or threw a bit of teeth into the mix. When the heat needed an escape, you’d let out gentle noises to let him know how he was making you feel. He’d show his gratitude with a hum on your skin or the softest of chuckles.

“You know—” A scrape along your jugular. “—I always thought you were gorgeous.”

Whoa. The sudden words made you fall out of your haze a bit as you stammered, “R-Really?”

“Mhm—“ Another kiss on your neck. “—so pretty.”

An unmistakable heat built up in your cheeks, taking his compliment to heart. To have someone that looked like Seonghwa saying that would have your ego riding a high for the next few days.

But for now, you’d focus on the way his lips started carefully trailing down to the swells of your breasts, occasionally brushing against the lace hiding the rest of them. You couldn’t help but watch the top of his head, ebony bangs swaying and tickling your sensitive skin as he continued with his kisses. Soon enough, the desire for more came.

“Hwa.”

The soft call made him stop and bring his head up to give you his attention. With a slight push of your chest, you encouraged, “Take it off.”

Seonghwa gave your bra a quick glance before returning his gaze to give a nod, sitting up to reach around your torso. You felt his hand fumble for a moment until the band around your ribs loosened. He went for your straps now, sliding the garment down delicately, eyes fixated on your skin as it was exposed.

The way he was staring had you feeling a mix of self-consciousness and assurance. Having one of your close friends seeing you in such a state was nerve-wracking, but the budding heat in his expression let you know that he liked what he saw. And if you were unsure about that, he was quick to remedy it by leaning down to pull a nipple into his mouth.

A small hiss left your lips at the sensation, head tipping back as Seonghwa began carefully sucking. Just when you were really enjoying it, he pulled off to ask, “Did you like that?”

It took a second to gain your voice before answering, “I did.”

Your friend’s mouth quirked at your affirmation, pleased to find something else that made you tick. He dove back in, returning his attention to the stiff bud with more pressure. A few sighs escaped as your eyes fluttered closed to enjoy it further. How quickly Seonghwa caught on to your body was mind-boggling. Whenever you were about to ask for more, he’d bring a hand up to tweak and play with the neglected side.

He continued to play with your breasts a little longer, leaving no inch untouched before he pulled off. The loss of the touch had your fingers tightening on the comforter, only easing up when he spoke, “We should get more comfortable.”

With a motion of his hand towards the head of the bed, you turned and crawled up to rest your head on the pillows. Seonghwa was quick to follow, watching as he ended up on top of you. He stopped when he was level with your chest, planting a few kisses before slowly trailing them down your torso. That and the little nips he’d throw in between made you melt into the comforter.

You couldn’t help but want to watch him in action at one point. Your stare must have been heavy as he eventually caught you.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just…I’m surprised at how thorough you’re being.”

He let out an amused huff before sitting up between your legs.

“The buildup is part of it, Y/N. It’s not just about how you feel here—” He pointed between your hips before tapping your forehead. “—it’s about what’s going on up here too.”

Wow. Never did you imagine hearing that out of anyone you were about to be intimate with. His thought process relaxed you further, giving him a nod to show that you understood.

Seonghwa looked pleased with your reaction, leaning in to give you a short but sweet kiss. He pulled back to direct his eyes on your panties before peering back up to raise a thick brow.

“Should we take these off?”

The suggestion forced your bottom lip under your teeth in anticipation, lifting your hips to let him know that you were completely on board. He took a hold of the waistband and pulled down carefully until your underwear came off your legs and ended up on the floor. The new exposure had you keeping them as close together as possible (which wasn’t much, thanks to Seonghwa sitting in between). Your friend didn’t give you the chance to feel more shy, his hands laying next to your knees to gradually slide up and towards your inner thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

With a light push, he spread your legs further apart, revealing more of your most intimate area. Your stomach flipped at the way his eyes seemed to drink you in, feeling a thumb come up to brush the apex of your thigh.

“Pretty.”

His murmur made you want to grab a pillow and hide your face from the sudden heat washing over it. But Seonghwa interrupted your modesty by hooking his hands underneath your knees to push them back all of a sudden.

“Hwa!”

“Hold these for me.”

You couldn’t tell if it was a command or a suggestion; either way, you were quick to hold the back of your knees and keep yourself spread open. All you could do was lay there and wiggle your toes as you tried not to overthink on how exposed you were to Seonghwa now.

“Y/N.”

You peered up at him, only to be greeted with a question that you never expected to leave his mouth.

“Do you like being eaten out?”

A tremble slipped through your fingers while the grip on your legs tightened. You nodded slowly while whispering, “I do.”

Seonghwa pulled in his bottom lip before biting, focusing his gaze between your legs again.

“May I?”

God yes. Which was short for ‘god yes, eat me the fuck out like you haven’t had a meal in days’, but your nerves dwindled it down to a mini smile paired with a slow nod. It seemed to be more than enough for your friend as he grinned lightly before carefully slinking down until his face hovered in front of your dripping folds.

A conflict of emotions occurred at the view. A thrill went through you at the thought of having Seonghwa put his mouth on you, yet you were also incredibly vulnerable to him now. Did you taste alright? Did you clean up enough and—

“Oh—”

Whatever worries you were going to stew on were interrupted, thanks to the tongue delicately running up your slit. The motion had your body stiffening at first, gaping down at the head between your thighs. For a moment, your brain couldn’t comprehend that it was Seonghwa who did that, but it was quick to realize when he went and did it again, making a light sound come out.

Your friend peered up at you through his bangs, deep brown eyes watching you like a hawk.

“Too much or more?”

“It…felt nice. Just, um, build it up?”

Why did you say that as if you didn’t know how you liked to be eaten out? Now Seonghwa cocked his head, looking a little cautious.

“You don’t sound very confident about that, Y/N. Don’t be afraid to tell me what you like.”

Right. Right. This was Seonghwa, not some person who was doing this out of obligation for the end goal. How would he know how to please you if you didn’t communicate?

Taking a deep breath, you informed him, “That was fine. Just…switch between that and my clit.”

He nodded, looking more satisfied with your answer.

“Okay. Just tell me if I need to do anything different, yes?”

Your mouth curled at his consideration. “Yes, Hwa.”

Seonghwa gave your inner thigh a gentle peck before going back to what he was doing. Now you could enjoy the feeling fully, less hesitant than before. By the third lick, a moan began building up at the base of your throat, releasing when you felt the lightest of pressures on your clit.

“Mnh—”

“Is that good?”

Your legs spread further. “You can do it a little harder.”

He wasted no time in following your suggestion, circling the bud with more strength to make your back arch slightly and your nails dig into your skin.

“Yeah, just like that—”

Seonghwa continued, egged on by your words. He seemed to develop a strategy when it came to pleasuring you, leaving your eyes to flutter shut as you enjoyed the bliss.

The only time your fog was interrupted was when you heard his voice husking from below, “Knew you’d always taste so good.”

A shiver wracked your body from the mixture of praise and the light flick he gave your clit. You sat back and enjoyed the feeling of your friend’s mouth as he worked you over. When you felt something prodding your entrance, your eyes flew open, head lifting to see Seonghwa meeting you with apprehension on his beautiful face. Only when you looked closer did you see that the tip of his index finger was what pressed against you.

“Can I put it in?”

Your nod was all he needed before sliding inside, your teeth clenching at the welcome spreading. He began thrusting slowly, lighting a different kind of spark inside at the added friction. You tipped your head back again, sighing pleasantly in enjoyment.

“You sound so fucking wet—”

You squeezed involuntarily around his digit, finding that he wasn’t exaggerating. Listening close, you could hear a light squelching, your ears burning from the noise.

Seonghwa continued moving against your walls, stimulating you to the point where you instructed him to add another finger in. With a bite of his lip, he obliged, carefully adding a second one that made you moan even louder than before. How you managed to still keep a hold of your legs was impressive in its own right. But you nearly let go when you felt a brush against your G-spot.

“Ah—”

“Y/N?”

You were swift in alleviating his concern with a, “Right there, Hwa—”

He was clued into what he did, starting to rub and press in that area with more pressure. To give you something else to make your head spin, you felt him start to lap and swirl around your clit again. The two sensations intertwined seamlessly, leading to a familiar knot to start forming in your gut.

Shit. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine Seonghwa, your close friend, would make you about to come.

But just when you were about to allow the moment to take over, he removed his tongue and stilled his fingers, making your head throw back in frustration as you groaned.

“Damn—”

Seonghwa was quick to placate you, “I’m sorry, Y/N, but it’s necessary.”

You brought your head up to shoot a large pout to let him know you didn’t see eye to eye. He gave you a chuckle in return, his free hand coming up to give your tense stomach a pat.

“Believe me, I’d love nothing more than to watch you come, but I made a promise.”

His admission, followed by the peck on the back of your thigh, made your toes curl in anticipation of what he had planned. You took some time to collect yourself, trying to ignore the pang that came from denying yourself an orgasm. Once you were ready, you let Seonghwa know.

It was like a rinse and repeat cycle, the way he kept edging you, only to stop when sweet bliss was about to arrive. Thankfully, after the third time of this, he sat up in front of you.

“I think you’re ready now.”

Mouth popping open in intrigue, you inquired, “So what should I do?”

“Just go along with it until you feel like you’re going to come. It’s going to feel like you have to pee also, but don’t fight it. Just push, okay?”

Hm. Simple enough.

“Okay.”

Seonghwa smiled at your compliance, giving your thigh a gentle rub before continuing to move the hand that made your pussy its new home. It might as well have, with the way it effortlessly slid and stroked all the spots that made you quiver. A sneaky part of your brain mused on why you never thought about getting intimate with your friend sooner.

But then you were struck with a feeling that sent an unexpected shock throughout your entire system.

What was that?

And then it happened again, only to come with an unwelcome weight below your belly button.

Fuck. Was this what he was talking about?

The longer he kept going, the more that pressure became overwhelming. It was a battle to fight with your brain to let it know that you weren’t going to have an accident. But once you got it to settle down, the feeling was so close.

You had to tell him. But your first attempt at speaking was useless, mouth parting only to let out yet another moan. With the most of your strength, you strained your vocal cords to choke out, “Seonghwa—!”

“Push.”

The desire to make the intense pressure go away was only stoked by his deep command, making something in you snap. With a strained cry, your hands flew down to tug at the sheets as bolts of lightning raced up and down your body. You faintly notice the tension in your lower belly dissipating a mite as you shook underneath Seonghwa. Remembering his instructions, you push your lower muscles as much as possible, feeling a sudden heat wash down your thighs.

You wanted to look and see if anything was happening down there, but the pleasure was overwhelming, forcing you to ride it out until your senses started to return. After what felt like eons, your body calmed down a little, although your hips would occasionally jerk.

Only when Seonghwa spoke did you become aware of your surroundings again.

“You did it.”

Those three words, teeming with pride, brought your heavy head up from the pillow. You looked up to see a pleased grin on his handsome face.

“D-Did I?”

His smile only grew wider, motioning you to take a peek between your legs. There was a delay from your brain to your body, but you managed to prop yourself up on your elbows. When you caught a glimpse, your mouth couldn’t help but pop open in shock.

The sight of your friend’s fingers stuffed in your pussy was already something to behold, but the extra details surrounding it only made it better. His hand glistened in the dim light of the room, along with your inner thighs. You had to look a little harder to notice the small wet spot on the towel, though.

“I did it…”

A swell of satisfaction built up in your chest as you gazed up at Seonghwa with amazement.

“I told you you could.”

Gratification and a hint of cockiness graced his tone, making a breathless giggle escape you.

“Wow…”

Your friend hummed pleasantly, his free hand coming up to give your hip a gentle rub.

“Did it feel good?”

Good? Good?

“It felt fucking amazing.”

Seonghwa laughed at your impassioned response. “Wonderful. I wasn’t going to take anything less.”

You matched his laugh, flopping back down onto the bed as you continued to get your bearings. As the shocks slowly wore off, your brain began racing. The feeling you had experienced just now was intense yet addicting. It seemed that your body wanted more of what your friend gave you, not helped by the fact that he still had his digits inside.

Feeling a little more prepared this time, you brought your head up.

“Seonghwa.”

He lifted a brow at your call, followed by a wiggle of your hips.

“I want to do it again.”

His face relaxed into one of understanding immediately. He waited for you to get comfortable before starting to move his fingers at a steady pace. It took less time for the heat to start building back up, making your mouth part to let consistent moans out again. The sensation built up faster than before, assisted by the suggestive words Seonghwa would throw in in between. When that urge hit again, you didn’t hesitate to speak.

“H-Hwa, I’m gonna—“

Seonghwa’s jaw tightened at your warning, clearly ready to bring you to that high point again. But rather than let you lay back like before, his other hand shot up behind your neck, cupping it with a firm grip. You were lost about his intentions until he lifted, enough to have you looking down and getting an eyeful of his fingers thrusting in and out of your cunt.

Just the sight alone pushed you even closer to the edge.

“Watch yourself make a mess, Y/N.”

And your friend’s harsh words tossed you over that cliff in no time.

You moaned loudly, making sure to keep your eyes peeled despite the urge to close them again. You’re able to push a little harder this time, getting a clear view of the small stream coming out between your legs.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby—”

Your head was unable to throw back at the pleasure coursing through your body, thanks to Seonghwa’s hold. The control he had on you was unexpected yet thrilling. You somehow managed to watch his face now, your gut flipping at the way he fixated on what was happening below. His thick brows were knitted and his lips pursed in concentration while he continued to drive his fingers back and forth.

But then he glanced up at your face, directing that heat onto you with little shame.

“Good girl. Let it all out.”

Thank God he decided to let your neck go then, because his praise made whatever control you had on yourself disappear, causing you to splay out on the bed. All you could do was lay back and let him continue to work you over and over again.

At one point, you could feel his fingers slip out and cover you, rubbing back and forth to make your mess spread out. Had this been earlier, you would have been embarrassed at the way it was getting everywhere, but the fog of the strong orgasms erased your worries. Only when one of your hands flew down to grab his wrist did Seonghwa stop, leaving you to deal with the aftershocks.

Holy fuck, your thighs could not stop shaking. And you could feel every muscle below your waist twitching.

Once a sense of relief washed over you, your fingers unwrapped from Seonghwa before your arms laid next to your head. You panted harshly as you tried to get your bearings and calm your lower half (you came this close to kicking your friend in the leg). His warm hand came up and rested on your hip, rubbing with care as he soothed you with words.

“That’s it, Y/N. You did well.”

You lulled into a sense of security, eyes lidding until your lashes brushed against each other. The temptation to drift off into sleep was incredibly strong right—

“Here.”

But then one of the water bottles appeared in front of your face, making you realize how thirsty you were all of a sudden. You gave Seonghwa a raspy ‘thank you’ before taking it, sitting up and wasting no time in drinking.

“Trust me, you’ll need it if you want to keep going.”

You chuckled around your bottle, bringing it down once you were halfway finished.

“I appreciate it, the last thing I want is dehydration.”

Your friend grinned in humor, taking a moment before questioning, “How are you feeling right now?”

An answer didn’t come right away because there were too many. But for now—

“Fan-fucking-tastic.”

Seonghwa laughed, the hand still on your thigh giving a gentle squeeze. “I created a monster, didn’t I?”

“Hey, you’re the one who offered to show me. If anything, you have to take responsibility.”

“Don’t worry, I will…once you’re back in order.”

You batted pathetically at his quip, only to rest your hand on your stomach as you continued to relax. The typical post-orgasm bliss crept up, although you ignored the desire to take a nap. Especially once you noticed the state your friend was left in.

The dim light gave you a clear view of how he strained against the fabric of his sweats, washing you over with a sense of pride.

“That seems like a problem.”

Seonghwa followed your stare, only to chuckle modestly and scratch the back of his neck.

“I’ll be fine.”

Your brow furrowed at his avoidance. “You sure?”

He was quick to shoot you a grin.

“Positive. This isn’t about me, remember?”

Oh Seonghwa. Sweet, considerate Seonghwa whose actions carried over to the bedroom as well. He probably thought you were only offering out of accountability, not knowing that it was far from that. You wanted to make him feel something tonight.

“I know, but—” You propped yourself up on your elbows. “—are you not interested?”

A wary glance. “…in?”

Time to let it out.

“In me…touching you.”

As you predicted, your friend was caught off-guard, surprise on his gorgeous face. He looked away a couple of times before he could finally meet your eyes. You nearly missed him whispering lowly, “I wouldn’t say that.”

A giddiness overtook at his answer. It gave you the nerve to say something you never imagined would leave the comfort of your mind.

“Would it be bad if I admit I want to suck you off?”

The way Seonghwa jolted visibly and hitched his breath at your blunt remark was a clear enough response.

“Y/N…”

“What? It gets me going. Besides, I want to at least give you something for making me feel so good.”

You weren’t given a verbal answer for a while, Seonghwa poking his tongue in his cheek while looking at you with contemplation.

“Are you sure?”

His question was met with a cheeky smile and a nod from you. They eased his expression into something more agreeable.

“Okay. Where do you want me?”

You sat up and scooted over, moving the towel’s wet portion before pointing at your previous spot.

“Lay down.”

Seonghwa was quick to follow your order, head resting on the pillows as he watched you reach for the last bits of fabric that was holding him back from being bare. Your fingers curled under the elastic of his pants and underwear and with a glance up and a lift of his narrow hips, you began sliding the waistbands down to reveal the effects of what had been going on.

Just the sight of his flushed and stiff cock had you letting out a low yet audible ‘fuck’, ripping his clothing off his long legs before taking your spot between them. Leaning your head in towards him, you were halted when one of his hands landed and gave the back of your neck a gentle grasp. Your eyes darted up to see him shake his head.

“Sit over here.”

Seonghwa patted the space to the left of his torso, prompting you to crawl back over him to follow his instructions. You kept your legs folded underneath your body, only to feel his hand cup your ass before lifting so you were on your knees now. As if he could hear your questioning thoughts, he muttered, “I want to keep touching you.”

All it took was his fingertips brushing your inner thighs before you leaned back down to get to work. Because of the angle, you had to wrap your fingers around him in order to reach with your mouth. Channeling all of the late night thoughts you’ve had about Seonghwa, you slipped your tongue out to run along his cock, soaking in the low groan heard from above. Turning your head, you peered at him.

“Good?”

Seonghwa blew out a short breath as he nodded, grunting, “Yes…keep going.”

Feeling more confident thanks to that, you did as he wished, making sure not to miss an inch of him. Up and down strokes turned into swirls and flicks, especially whenever you were near his tip (the sound he made from being in that area had you squirming). As soon as you heard your friend quietly begging for more, you parted your lips and began sinking down, the hand still gripping your ass digging in with a fierceness that made you jump.

“Shit, Y/N.”

But you didn’t let that deter you, stopping just when he was about to hit the back of your mouth before beginning to bob. You earned more of those beautiful noises from Seonghwa, along with fingers seeking out your soaked core, stroking and rubbing to have you vibrating around his dick with moans.

“You’re so fucking good with your mouth, baby—“

All of a sudden, you found your hands unable to stay still. Your right one slid onto his stomach, feeling the way his abdominals would tense and loosen constantly. The left one went down to his thighs, carefully running your nails along the muscled expanse. At one point, you got daring and crept up to graze his balls, earning a sudden thrust that made you gag for a second.

“Fuck, ‘m sorry.”

Seonghwa’s apology was swift yet gruff, the pleasure you were giving him obscuring any gentleness behind it. You didn’t mind, shooting him a glance and a thumbs up to signal that you were okay. As soon as you felt his hips relax and a careful pat on your bottom, you continued. His reactions to both your hands and mouth working him up were less sudden yet consistent, groans and hisses more audible than the soft music playing in the background.

When you started to feel him twitch more often and hear his breathing become erratic, you had to ask yourself where you were going to go with this. He accomplished his main goal already (multiple times), so it was only natural to finish him off before going your separate ways.

…right?

Honestly, you didn’t want to stop here.

It was incredibly dangerous to admit it, but you’ve already come this far with Seonghwa. What was the harm in taking this to the highest level? That is, if he was on the same page as you…

Carefully pulling off of him, you felt a pang of guilt at the low whine he gave from the loss of your mouth.

“Hwa.”

You could see his throat bob for a moment before he brought his head up, bangs clinging to his forehead as he looked down at you with nothing but heat.

“Y-Yes?”

Sitting up, you wiped the spit off your chin as you worked up the nerve to air out your want.

“Would you mind if…uh…”

Seonghwa tilted his head as he waited for you to continue.

“If?”

A deep breath. “If we…kept going.”

He processed your implication for a bit, his dark brown eyes widening when it clicked. His mouth parted into an ‘o’ as he forced himself to sit up.

“Y/N…we don’t have to go all the way. We can stop here.”

You couldn’t help but deflate a little at his answer, wondering if he wasn’t as interested in taking this further as you were.

“O-Oh. Do you not want to…?”

Your disappointment was prevalent in your voice, causing Seonghwa’s hands to wave in appeasement.

“No no no, that’s not it at all! I just don’t want you to feel obligated.”

Obligated? Obligated?

“Seonghwa.”

Your friend straightened up at your impassive call of his name.

“There’s no obligation if I really want to sit on your dick, now is there?”

His mouth dropped, opening and closing before he admitted sheepishly, “No…there isn’t.”

A smile graced your lips as you patted his leg.

“All I need to know is if we’re on the same page.”

Seonghwa sobered up at your remark, chewing on his lower lip as he seemed to debate his answer. His eyes went to the hand on his thigh for what felt like a while. Finally, he looked back up at your face, meeting your gaze with a conviction that wasn’t there before.

“We are.”

To say your heart did a somersault would be an understatement.

“So…you want to keep going?”

He nodded firmly. “I do.”

You couldn’t help but want to egg him on, to make sure this was something he completely wanted.

“How bad?”

What you got was Seonghwa adopting an expression that you were becoming familiar with today as he took a hold of your chin, pulling you close to his face before husking, “How bad? I don’t want you to leave this bed until I have you squirting and screaming on my cock, that’s how bad.”

Fuck. This was what you got for poking the bear. Now you were rendered speechless and even more needy than before. Your reaction brought a devious smirk to his lips.

“Does that answer your question?”

You were only capable of nodding and leaning in to say, “It sure does.”

It was unclear who started it first, but the two of you ended up in a passionate kiss, hands roaming each other’s bodies in the meantime. Only when you were desperate for air did it break, Seonghwa giving your waist a squeeze before getting up to stand next to the bed.

“Lay down, Y/N.”

You quickly followed directions, spreading the towel back out to be safe and laying on your back like earlier. He grabbed one of the pillows next to your head and motioned you to lift your hips, placing it underneath to have them at a slight angle. You welcomed the extra cushion, watching as he turned and went into his nightstand to search for what you assumed were his condoms. But he didn’t produce them right away, frowning slightly when he continued to rummage around in confusion.

You appreciated his caution, but…

“We don’t have to use that.”

Seonghwa paused, giving you a dumbfounded look.

“What…? Y/N.”

The skepticism in his tone forced you to meet his wary stare with a serious one.

“Really, Seonghwa, it’s fine. I’m clean and on the pill.”

“You are? Well…I’m safe too, I haven’t been with anyone for a while now.”

That was all you needed. Reaching out, you gave his hand a careful tug.

“Then get back in this bed so you can fuck me.”

Your direct words made him swear under his breath before climbing on and over you, slotting himself between your legs as you spread them. You brought your hands up to rest on his lower back, wanting to be as close as possible. Seonghwa reached down to take a hold of his cock and line himself up with your opening. When you felt him run his tip along your sensitive skin, you hissed and bucked your hips.

“Please…”

Biting his lip, he started entering. Your immediate reaction to the intrusion was hitched breathing and a slight dig of your nails. You must have had the dumbest look on your face right now, but Seonghwa had an equally dense expression as he slid into you. Only when he was mostly sheathed did you attempt to regain composure.

“You okay?”

Seonghwa’s raspy voice gave a small boost to your ego as it was clear he was struggling to acclimate to the sensation as well.

“Peachy. You?”

He laughed shortly at your strained pep. “Just try not to move for a bit, okay?”

You let out a giggle, bringing a finger up to tap his nose.

“Yes sir.”

After the light twitch you felt him give inside, you both laid still to adjust. Something about laying in Seonghwa’s bed together with nothing but the sounds of sensual music and your breathing combined made an odd warmth build in your chest. The lips that came down to plant tiny kisses all over your jaw and neck didn’t help stifle that feeling.

Soon enough, you were ready to move on.

“You good, Hwa?”

Your friend brought his head up, looking less apprehensive than before, a heat in his dark eyes.

“Yes. You?”

A nod was all that was needed.

“How do you want it?”

Honestly? At this point, you didn’t have a preference. You just wanted to experience more of your friend’s magic touch.

With your knees pressing closer to him, you breathed, “However you like.”

Seonghwa reacted to your offer with another twitch and a clench of his jaw. Giving you a look as if to say ‘you asked for it’, he balanced himself on his elbows before pulling his hips back, quickly replacing himself with a sharp exhale. The act had you making a sound of your own as well, only becoming louder when he sunk in again.

“Seonghwa—”

His dark eyes flickered up to yours.

“Good?”

“Y-Yeah.”

Lips quirking, he continued, building up a rhythm that started sending waves of gratification throughout your body. You were glad he kept the tempo moderate, testing what made you moan and tighten your legs around him. The pillow sitting underneath you did wonders as well, allowing him to reach areas that would’ve been more difficult without it. The way he cants his hips up has you searching for breath as he was getting closer and closer to stroking against that sweet spot, having you crying out all of a sudden when he finally pressed into it.

“Fuck—”

A throaty hum sounded above you before Seonghwa responded, “You like that, baby?”

Would you ever get used to him calling you that? Probably not, as an unmistakable tremble ran through you.

“Yes, Hwa…keep doing that.”

Seonghwa was quick to honor your wish, pumping in a way that had an unmistakably lewd sound echoing from between your hips. Fuck, when’s the last time you got this wet? You didn’t have any opportunity to think further as you began to hear heavy whispers all of a sudden.

“You’re even more gorgeous like this.”

“God, Y/N— Feel so fucking good!”

“You take me so well—”

Your head was spinning with all of the stimulation and you needed an outlet for the ball of energy building up inside you, so you grabbed onto the back of his neck to tug him down into a fiery kiss. Tongues were quick to seek each other out and tangle as Seonghwa kept fucking you thoroughly. Before you could realize, the same pressure from when he was fingering you made a comeback, slowly increasing until it was becoming too much.

You tried to pull away to warn your friend, only for him to keep capturing your mouth with his. The need coming from him was adorable, but you had to let him know. When you managed to part without him diving in immediately, you swiftly muttered ‘gonna come’, hoping he heard. But when the feeling hit your breaking point and your nails scraped his skin, he still wouldn’t let up.

Just as your orgasm was about to take you over, you frantically placed one of your hands between your sweat-soaked stomachs. A push to his lower abdomen forced Seonghwa to pull out, making you spray your come all over his cock with a sharp cry. The quivers immediately take over afterward, your eyes squeezing shut as you do your best to calm your muscles down, missing the way the man above you gaped down with shock.

He had gotten so caught up in you that the sudden withdrawal caught him off-guard. Everything started sinking in the longer he stared.

You just squirted on him.

Something about watching drops of your come roll off his cock makes him go a little crazy. He’s quick to grasp himself and slide back into you, his thrusts returning with a hint of urgency. Having him stimulating your still pulsating walls pulled sharp cries from your agape mouth, fingers digging into his back muscles.

“S-Seonghwa, shit—”

“Look at you—“ A nip to your bottom lip. “—said you couldn’t do it and now you’re just gushing everywhere.”

Oh…well, he did have a point. But you simply huffed and wrapped your legs tighter around his slender waist.

“More. Go harder.”

A guttural curse left Seonghwa, who quickly did as you asked, resulting in you gripping onto his shoulders now and becoming more vocal.

“Yes yes, fuck me just like that—“

He shook his head at your encouragement, rasping, “Who would have imagined that my lovely friend would have such a filthy mouth?”

You couldn’t help but laugh breathlessly. “It happens when I get fucked well.”

And fucked well, indeed. Seonghwa kept up the pace that was making your body sing, taking the opportunity every once in a while to seize your lips into a searing kiss. You appreciated the continued thoroughness from him, meeting him with the same energy by occasionally rolling your hips up or keening your praise. The words out of your agape mouth were only halted when you felt his hand slip between your bodies to give your throbbing bud a calculated swipe or two.

“Hwa—“

Something about the way you say his name makes his hand pull away all of a sudden. But your whine of withdrawal was interrupted when you felt the Earth spinning, finding yourself perched on his lap now. The change of position had you blinking owlishly.

That and the fact that the towel he had spread out had gotten awkwardly tangled between your legs.

“Hwa, the—”

Yet he was quick to remedy it by snatching the terrycloth and tossing it to the side.

“Fuck it, that’s what the laundromat is for.”

Your hand came up to cover the giggle that wanted to escape, humored by Seonghwa’s sudden one-eighty concerning his bedding. Although your giddiness died down swiftly once you got a good look at his appearance.

You know for a fact that your brain, even at its most creative point, would never have been able to conjure a sight as breathtaking as this.

Seonghwa flushed in multiple areas, sun-kissed skin glistening in the lamp light with sweat and chest heaving as he looked up at you like a man starved. All because of you.

This was an achievement that you’d be proud of for a long time.

“Feeling good?”

There was a slight delay to his response as he blinked.

“I…of course.”

You delivered a satisfied grin.

“Good. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

The man underneath you merely laughed and shook his head, seeing your statement as silly.

“Saying yes to me was more than enough, sweetheart.”

As if he couldn’t leave you even more sheepish, he took one of your hands and planted his lips on the back of it. The intimate touch cooled down your burst of confidence, melting into modesty now. You only loosened your hand to reach up and brush back the inky strands plastered to his forehead.

“It’s my pleasure. Seeing you like this is something that I never thought I needed.”

Seonghwa’s mouth dropped in awe at your admission and you swore you saw his cheeks become redder.

“Y/N…”

Before you could lose your stride, you leaned down, hovering above his face as you whispered, “Tell me how I can keep it up.”

What you got next was a firm grip on your hips and a low growl.

“Ride me.”

And so you do.

You hold onto the headboard and Seonghwa’s shoulder before giving him the ride of his life. You experiment with different angles, planting your feet and leaning forward at one point or using your knees to swivel your hips quickly. Whatever would make the man underneath curse or dig his fingers into your damp skin.

“So fucking good, Y/N—“

Sinking down on his cock continuously wasn’t enough after a certain point. Between the sounds of your skin clapping against his, you croaked out, “Touch me, please— Oh fuck—“

Seonghwa wasted no time in fulfilling your wish, hands roaming everywhere on your body. From cupping your bouncing breasts to pinching your stiff nipples to grabbing your ass, he made sure to be as thorough as possible. Only when he decided to start circling your clit did your rhythm falter, your upper half bowing forward.

“Oh my— Fuck, Seonghwa!”

The gravelly chuckle he let out should have been illegal. “Like that, sweetheart?”

“Y-Yes— Don’t stop.”

And so he continued stimulating you to the point that your head was starting to spin from pleasure overload. Before you realized it, you were starting to squeeze him often, the beginnings of yet another orgasm about to wash over you. You were too occupied in making all sorts of noises with your mouth to give your friend a heads up, though he didn’t seem to need it as he called you out all of a sudden.

“You keep getting tight on me—” Seonghwa’s free hand reached around to give your bottom a smack that caught you by surprise. “—go on, Y/N. Make a mess on my cock.”

Was it what he said or the spank that triggered you? There was no point in stewing over it as either one was responsible for pushing you over the edge, a whine coming out as your body stilled and shook above him.

“There you go…that’s my girl.”

Somehow you were able to hear his praise, making your stomach flip even harder than it already was. When your tremors died down, you rested your forehead on his afterward, hoping he didn’t mind being used for support. The gentle rubbing on your hips that came eased your worries. Once you got your bearings, you couldn’t help but let your eyes trail down, not at all surprised to see the mess you left on his lower stomach.

You laughed airily, “I’m just ruining your sheets.”

Seonghwa merely hummed with a lack of offense, giving you a light pat.

“It’s worth it.”

He leaned up to steal another kiss from you, gentler compared to the most recent ones. But during the lip lock, you could feel weariness take over, making you blow out a breath after breaking the contact.

“Fuck, I’m exhausted all of a sudden.”

Your friend frowned at your words, reaching up and brushing some hair out of your face. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Mhm. Just give me a minute or two.”

Your body was quick to betray you, a yawn coming out immediately after. It didn’t help that Seonghwa laughed.

“I don’t know, Y/N, you look like you’re ready for bed.”

“Ugh, I’m not! Besides, you haven't come yet, I can’t leave you hanging like that.”

Seonghwa was quick to raise a brow, looking a little more strict now.

“So? Really, if you can’t take anymore, we can stop. I’ll just take care of myself.”

You appreciated his concern, but you just weren’t having it. This was going to end with a bang. The only way to make him understand was to hold his handsome face between your hands and give him a relentless stare.

“Seonghwa, I can keep going, I promise. I’m doing this all because I want to and this is no exception. As long as you don’t mind doing most of the work for me?“

As much as he fussed over you at times, you had to alleviate his concern so he wouldn’t worry his head off completely. Now was one of those instances and the longer you kept eye contact, the more he seemed to become at ease.

“Okay.”

The sweet smile you gave him erased whatever lingered, his lips curling softly. He leaned up to give you a peck, sitting up and wrapping his arms around your waist. With a heads up, he maneuvered you onto your back, making sure to keep himself housed inside. To your surprise, Seonghwa didn’t begin moving immediately. Thinking he needed some encouragement, you linked your legs around his hips and gave a light tug.

A sharp inhale was all you received before he returned to thrusting again.

It became clear to you a short while in that he held off due to being closer than you realized. His breathing was more uneven and his kisses became borderline desperate, only making your stomach flip in delight at seeing this man in such a state.

“Y/N, I’m—”

Seonghwa’s sudden rasp caught you off-guard, noticing how his brows knitted together and he struggled to keep himself composed. To see that he was the one getting beaten with pleasure now had you wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine.

With a deceptively curious expression, you ran your nails up and down his sweat-soaked back before leaning into his ear to whisper, “Gonna come for me, Hwa?”

A thrill ran down your spine at the shudder you felt him give as he nodded quickly. Out of nowhere, a sinful idea came into your head. What you were about to say was so out of pocket, even for your usual bedroom talk, but Seonghwa just seemed to bring the worst out of you today.

And so you licked your lips and decided to husk, “Come inside me.”

You could hear your friend let out an audible gasp, hips stuttering in complete bewilderment. You were concerned that you had taken it too far, as you didn’t hear him respond for a moment. But then his forehead landed on yours and he locked his blazing irises with your own, looking borderline feral. His thrusts also took their speed up a notch, making you whine at the increase in friction.

“I’m going to fill this pussy up, make it even wetter—”

His growl made you tremble for a second, but you remained steady otherwise.

“Like you’ve always wanted to do?”

Your question made Seonghwa stare at you for a bit, broken by a throaty chuckle as he leaned in to brush his lips against the shell of your ear.

“You have no fucking idea, Y/N—“

With a nip to the skin, there were no more words exchanged as your bodies continued working together in tandem. You had to admit; there was a part of you that didn’t want this to end. You could honestly stay in this room and this bed with Seonghwa a little longer.

Just the two of you, indulging in each other.

But your unrealistic wish was broken when you felt him stiffen suddenly, letting out a heated groan as you felt him shake above you. The strong twitching of his cock against your walls was quickly followed by a warmth that coated them. Feeling him spill inside gave you the mildest of orgasms, manifesting in the most minuscule of tremors in your lower body. You couldn’t help but let your own come out a bit at the sensation, biting your lip at the way Seonghwa groaned from the feeling.

Once he finally calmed down, he carefully slid out to roll off of you and onto his back, leaving the littlest of spaces between your bodies. Your eyes remained on him as he caught his breath, looking over his disheveled appearance with wonder.

His lightly tanned skin reddened and shining with exertion. Eyelids shut. Chest rising and falling quickly. And yet, he still looked as stunning as ever.

Not fair.

But you smiled anyways, realizing another privilege was checked off your list; seeing Park Seonghwa looking fucked out as all hell.

“All better now that you proved me wrong?”

He gave a weak laugh.

“Much better.”

Even exhaustion couldn’t dim down his sass.

You gave his side a playful swat in return, receiving a snicker. The laugh died down, leaving a comfortable silence paired with a song that you often had on repeat. You were going to give Seonghwa some room to recover, but the more you mulled over it, the more you wanted to have some type of contact with him again.

So you rolled onto your side and scooted closer, letting your leg brush against his faintly. The touch made his eyes open, head turning slowly to gaze at you. He watched you for a moment, only for a pleasant smile to come across his lips.

“Hello.”

You couldn’t hold back your grin.

“Hi.”

Seonghwa kept his eyes on yours, only to bite his lip after a bit, looking less sure than earlier.

“Thanks for…entertaining me.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his sudden shyness. Where was the demon from before?

“My pleasure. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind doing this again with you.”

Your confession pulled rapid-fire blinking from your friend, his cheeks turning scarlet now.

“R-Really?”

“Mhm. Though you might want to get a mattress protector or something next time.”

Your suggestion eased his awe, laughing as he responded, “I will keep that in mind. Or we could try it at your place next?”

“And mess up my good sheets? No way!”

One of his brows raised. “And you think my sheets aren’t good?”

“I didn’t say that— Ugh.”

You went to give his chest a light swat, only to find its impact weaker than expected, thanks to the sudden wave of fatigue. The halfhearted attempt only made him giggle with mischief.

“Forget it, I’m too fucked out to argue with you, Hwa.”

Seonghwa laughed quietly, reaching out to pull you close and rest your head on his chest, making your heart skip.

“Then why don’t we just take it easy for a moment before cleaning up, hm?”

His offer was so tempting, although maybe you should get up right away. But the idea became enticing the longer you laid on him, melting into his warm touch.

Fuck it.

“Fine, but don’t let me fall asleep, okay?”

Not that you were completely against it.

Seonghwa hummed in understanding, the vibration felt against your cheek. Your eyelids lowered halfway, your body falling into a state of relaxation. Between the music, his steadying heartbeat and the breathing that slowly evened out, you could already guess that staying awake would have been impossible.

Before you could possibly doze off, you processed everything that had occurred since you stepped foot in this apartment today. Seonghwa had shown you a side that you never dreamed of seeing, only thought about while you were in the comfort of your own private space. And they were thoughts that you convinced yourself would never come true.

But here you were, naked in the same bed that you often sat on and watched your friend play Animal Crossing (paired with comments from you on how Tom Nook was the biggest crook).

The biggest thing that stuck with you was how Seonghwa seemed to want you just as much, shown in the way he took care of every one of your needs. His patience with figuring out what made you tick and making sure you were consistently comfortable was more than you expected. Should you have anticipated any less from him, though?

A pleasant ball of warmth started forming in your chest while the tiniest of smiles graced your lips.

No, you shouldn’t have.

©bangtanintotheroom, 2024. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[harmoonix]

🪄Dark Hour🖤

- Astrology Observations -

Having Venus in your 4th house can make you automatically to attract people with traditional values even if are not traditional yourself

Libra Risings can have it hard in relationship since their 7th house is ruled by Mars (Aries) which rules over war and conflicts

Cancer Placements can turn out to be manipulative if you do them wrong or if they simply just wake up and say 'lets be toxic today' and im not talking about all cancer placement natives

The dark side of a Venus in the 12th/Pisces Venus is that they tend to idolize their relationships/partners a lot, making a lot of scenarios in their head

Virgo or Cancer Venus may have a 'savior' complex in their love relationship, like trying to save themselves or trying to find someone who can save them

6th house Sun or Moon may have lots of encounters with animals, is like animals feel some kind of "calling' from you

Gemini/Leo/Taurus/ Venus may like to cosplay/playing the role of a character matches a lot with their personality

If you have unevolved Virgo Placements, you may hate when people disagree with you or when ppl come witn a counter-argument for you

Mars in the 8th house can get crazy if they don't get physical touch. Some might crave it and not have it 100% all the time

Moon in the 10th house feels like everyone is watching every single emotion of yours and may react to your sensitivity. You may get called 'over sensitive'

Moon in the 8th/12th house can struggle to talk about their feelings if they are surrounded by people with a toxic energy

Scorpio Moons can also struggle with 'feeling love' especially if they never experienced that properly. Don't press them to show their love for you early in a relationship let them feel safe first

Leo Chiron is a placement where they may nedd attention from others but not that type of "spotlight attention" rather just to be seen and understood by others

The dark side of Taurus Placements is that they tend to be very greedy and I talk here about their finances and money, of course if they are unevolved

Uranus in your 10H can make you change/switch your job more than once or twice, and can indicate having a confusing time with choosing the right job

Moon in your 2H can talk about 'working with love' and putting your heart into everything you do. You get rewards for your kindness

Unevolved 10th house placements can turn really materialistic if they have the chance, looking only for money and that's it

Capricorns are used to expect the worse in some situations since they have been thru multiple such situations in their lives

Uranus in Aquarius generation can be attached to technology 24/7. In love with technology, their phones are their world

Gemini and Virgo Moons are the first indicators of someone having anxiety/stress/panic attacks/overthinking

Pisces Placements but mostly Pisces Suns/Risings can use escapism a lot, trying to create their own reality in their head rather than living in the actual one

Scorpio Venus/Mars natives, some of their hidden fears can be betrayal/getting cheating on. This can possibly be one of the reasons why they can attach fast to people

Saturn/Pluto/Moon in the 8th/12th houses the planets become more dark in these houses, getting

Cardi B has a crazy chart because she has BOTH Jupiter and POF in the 7th house and is still still coming to the man who cheated on her??? (Never mind her Venus in the 8th house explaining everything)

A water sign in your 11th house can indicate you can understand people deeply and attach to them emotionally

Earth signs in the 1st house can indicate you tend to put a lot of pressure on themselves, being hard on themselves, criticizing themselves sometimes quite a lot

Mercury - Moon aspects natives can get therapeutic with other people, they like to talk about deep stuff with others and tend to share a lot from their live experiences

Jupiter in Sagittarius can be a good placement if you want to explore the whole world or just simply travel Jupiter can help you to manifest that

Jupiter - Mercury or Saturn in harsh aspects tend to be close-minded or afraid to open to new things/learning or knowing about them (I'm talking for the aspects generally not the people)

Moon or Venus at 5° or in the 5th house can make you have a baby fever more when you're young, like in your 20s. Wanting to be a young parent (this does not apply to all)

Mars or Neptune in the 11th house tend to attract people easily with their energy/personality. People get interested about you too

North Node aspecting Saturn in harsh aspects is not easy, actually is a very challenging position in your chart

North Node in the 8th or 12th house tends to live intense lives or have intense life situations, even near death situations

✨️🤍 Hope you all have a good Monday 🤍✨️

Harmoonix ✨️✨️✨️

[jisungshotfirst]

grrrrr twt stans annoy me

[cyberseong]

after hours.

pairing: seonghwa x f!reader

genre: smut/pwp, established relationship, idol au.

warnings/topics: there’s quite a bit of plot before it gets to the actual smut, seonghwa is pissed in the beginning, somnophilia, but everything is consensual, slight dacryphilia, dry humping, unprotected sex, plot twist(?) at the end ig.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: hi! this fic is slightly proofread but there’s still a possibility that there might be minor errors, but regardless, enjoy!!

seonghwa quickly exited the dressing room and back into the waiting room backstage; y/n was not present, so he began to check other locations such as the makeup and hair rooms and the small kitchenette.

he eventually concluded that she was simply not in the building.

seonghwa dialed her number over 10 times, each going directly to voicemail. anger was bubbling up in his throat; what reason would y/n have to leave the venue, especially after that was the only thing she promised not to do?

“hey, i know you guys don’t plan on leaving right away— but i’m tired, and… y/n is waiting for me at the hotel. so i’ll be leaving early. everyone did great and i’m so proud of all of you, but we’ll speak more tomorrow!” seonghwa tried to sound the kindest he possibly could, knowing the circuits in his mind were about to overheat and spark with fury and betrayal. he definitely didn’t want the rest of ateez to see him like that.

he ran out of the side door, immediately rushing to their van where their manager was waiting. “hey, could you take me back to our hotel early? i– i’m really not feeling well,” seonghwa’s words came out fast and nearly incomprehensible. the manager looked at him with worry, but he quickly nodded and started driving. their hotel was only 3 minutes away by car, so it didn’t take long for them to appear in front of the building. to seonghwa, however, it felt like ages until they reached their destination— he had no idea what y/n was doing right now, or even exactly where she was, and that thought alone was killing him.

as soon as the vehicle went into park, seonghwa jumped out of the van, quickly thanking their manager before rushing into the lobby. he entered the elevator, which, thankfully, was completely empty. he was way too distracted for fan interactions at that moment. his sole objective right now was to see his girlfriend.

slowly, the elevator approached the hotel's highest floor, and as soon as that ‘ding’ was sounded, seonghwa bolted out through the elevator doors and into the hallway. he found his way to room 1117, where he tapped his keycard against the door and opened it once he heard the lock click.

the room was dark, but he noted that the shoes y/n wore to the show earlier were the first thing he saw when he walked in. that was a dead giveaway that y/n was in this room.

“y/n. care to explain to me why you left the venue mid-concert? i’ve been looking everywhere for you, i mean you could’ve left a text, or a note, or someth– oh.” seonghwa’s confronting words quickly came to a stop when he realized y/n wasn’t listening; she was sleeping peacefully on the king mattress that swallowed the entire room. she wore one of seonghwa’s oversized animal crossing shirts and, from the dark out line of her hips and thighs, what seemed to be nothing but underwear on the bottom half of her body.

seonghwa’s entire being shivered at the sight— even imagining y/n coming back to their hotel room to wait for him like this sparked arousal within him. he took a deep breath before quickly kicking off his shoes, trying to get into the bed with the least movement and noise possible.

as his eyes had gotten a chance to adjust to the room's darkness, seonghwa could fully take in the view before him. the shirt had bunched up around y/n’s waist, presumably from moving around in her sleep. she wore a white lace thong that didn’t even try to cover her ass— seonghwa whimpered at the glimpse alone, his pants getting tighter with each thought that formed in his mind about y/n and he just knew he had to do something other than whine quietly like a bitch in heat.

seonghwa held his hips close to y/n's, thrusting up slightly in hopes of feeling any form of friction he could get against his dick. one hand of his rested on your hip as to hold it in place; the other remained over his mouth to block any of the sounds he was making from the oversensitivity. it’s not like an effort to keep quiet would work anyway— seonghwa’s lips were only a few inches from y/n’s ear, and they both knew seonghwa was rather vocal whenever he was worked up. the soft yet violent bucking of his hips against y/n’s soft skin caused her to move in her sleep a little, but seonghwa was too far gone that he couldn’t get his body to stop. tears began to drip from his eyes as his eyebrows furrowed, not being able to handle the feeling of his clothes against his overstimulated cock anymore.

his whimpers were no longer even given an effort to be held back anymore as he pushed his pants and boxers down his legs, using precum as lube before sliding carefully into y/n’s pussy in hopes that it wouldn’t wake her from her slumber. seonghwa couldn’t hold his moans in any longer as he bottomed out— his mind was overwhelmed in such an amorous haze, feeling as if nothing he was doing could help him reach his release. he couldn’t even thrust properly, which led to his hips randomly bucking harshly against y/n’s cervix. he was subconsciously holding a strong grip on y/n’s hips to the point where he was almost sure there would be bruises in the form of handprints in the morning. he placed is face against the crook of y/n’s neck in attempt to muffle the noises that proceeded to slip from his lips, causing vibrations to spread through y/n’s body. seonghwa felt y/n push back against him slightly— the unexpected movement caused him to snap as he immediately felt his body reach it’s climax. he thrusted deeply a few more times before pulling out, immediately painting his cum across y/n’s ass. his frame twitched violenty from overstimulation as he laid on his back, attempting to catch his breath and come down from his climax.

after a few seconds of silence, y/n turned onto her other side to face seonghwa. propping her head up with her arm, she confronted seonghwa. “you could’ve woken me up, you know i wouldn’t have minded.”

seonghwa jumped at the words— he had been way too fucked out to realize that y/n was awake. “what? wait, how long have you-”

“how long have i been awake?” y/n giggled slightly, placing a soft kiss onto seonghwa’s lips before she continued speaking, “since you came through the door, hwa.”

[skzstannie]

"Did you know?"

SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member! reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort wc: ~4,500 cw: slight violence, swearing, reader has to go to the hospital

summary: some online rumors cause turmoil within the group, and it seems the members’ concerns were certainly not without reason

A/N: Here's another angsty 9th member fic for you guys, hope you enjoy! My requests are still open, so if you have any ideas, feel free to send them in!

Likes/reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Part 2 | Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist

Today was the first date of your North American tour, landing you guys in the beautiful city of Los Angeles, California. Your managers allowed you the morning to explore the city, given you had constant security. They made you specifically promise to abide by these rules, as you had a habit of sneaking off to see fans on your own. What can you say? Security could be annoying, and your fans were always the sweetest.

This little habit of yours not only made management anxious, but also your members. They knew you could be innocent and credulous when it came to other people, always wanting to believe there was good in everyone. While this may be true, people's best intentions sometimes went out the window when confronted with their favorite Kpop idols.

"Ok, first the art museum for Hyunjin, then Griffith Park, and then the nice breakfast cafe down the street from the venue. Anything else?" Chan reads off your planned itinerary, glancing upwards at you guys.

"Yea, I said I wanted to go to the Santa Monica Pier. They have the cutest attractions there," you say, repeating yourself for what felt like the hundredth time that day. You were the only one wanting to go, all the other members not wanting to risk getting sick on fair food and carnival rides before the concert.

"Yes, and I already acknowledged the fact that we will not be going there today. And we, includes you, meaning you will also not be sneaking off to go by yourself," Chan pointedly looks to you, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

"What makes you think I'd ever do that?" you give him a cheeky smile, tilting your head ever so slightly.

"Don't look at me like that. You know exactly why I'd think that."

You drop your innocent act, giving him a bored look in return.

Chan gets notified that the vans have arrived, so you all pack up your things and head to the hotel elevator. The boys roughhouse in the hallway, Seungmin almost tackling Jeongin to the ground. This is quickly stopped by Minho, reminding them they can't get hurt before the concert tonight. They roll their eyes at him but oblige.

Leaving the hotel, you all jump in the cars, embarking on the short drive to the art museum. Your van consists of Seungmin and Felix sitting in the middle set of seats, while you're squished in the back between Chan and Minho. The air is weirdly tense and quiet, everyone seemingly too occupied with their phones. Besides Chan describing the itinerary this morning, everyone has been quiet all day.

You feel Chan's watchful gaze slide to your screen, and you pull away, leaning towards Minho. "Do you mind?" you sass.

"I do actually. What are you looking at on there, any cute boys?"

"Give me a break, we have a dating ban," you scoff, turning your phone back off and sliding it into your crossbody bag.

You continue to sit in silence until you arrive, not wanting to deal with Chan's wandering eyes on your Instagram feed.

Finally arriving at the art museum, everyone piles out of the vans. Fans line the sidewalk, and a grin spreads across your face. You step out of line quickly, wanting to go over to a particularly young fan. She looks around 8 or 9, and she has a poster of you in hand with a black Sharpie. What's the harm in giving this young girl a quick signature?

Within your first few steps, your arm is aggressively pulled backwards, and you stumble into Minho. He gives you a stern look, and you know, especially with this many people around, not to question him. You fall back in line, looking back to give the young girl a sympathetic smile as you're guided the rest of the way into the museum.

You guys walk through the entrance of the museum, officially out of sight from all the fans. Minho gives you another pointed look, finally releasing your arm from his grasp. "We told you, no funny business today. Tonight's important, and we need you in one piece for it."

Your eyes widen at his tone of voice, not appreciating the seriousness behind it. You know you tend to break some rules here and there, but it's always light-hearted. You'd never intentionally put yourself or anyone else in danger.

You guys explore the museum exhibits in peace, security doing an excellent job of keeping the fans outside. You, not having much of an interest in art, spend most of your time watching Hyunjin and the way he admires the artwork. He really is an artist at heart, and you love the way he can appreciate each individual piece.

While staring at Hyunjin, who's admiring an intensely beautiful painting of a riverbed with flowers, you suddenly feel eyes on you. You quickly spin around to be met with the stares of Felix, Jisung, and Jeongin. They quickly look away, busying themselves looking at the statues next to them.

You give them a squinted look, walking over to them. "What is wrong with you guys today? Why is everyone acting so funny?" you confront them, furrowing your brows.

Jisung stumbles over his words, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Felix jumps in, giving Jisung a strange look, "We were just talking about how beautiful you look today." He comes over to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

You don't stay there long, removing his arm from around you and walking away. "Weird," you mutter to yourself.

You guys finish up in the museum shortly after. Piling back into the cars, you're once again stuck between Minho and Chan. This time, however, Chan keeps constant conversation with you. He rambles on about the concert that night, what he had for dinner last night, practically anything to keep his mouth moving. While this is still strange behavior, you prefer this to radio silence.

Arriving at Griffith Park, you guys make your way up the hill terrain. All the guys want to take pictures, planning to post them to Instagram later that week. You think the perfect spot for pictures would be the Hollywood sign, so you start to make your way towards it.

You don't think to alert anyone, as it's within eyesight, and you prefer to take your own pictures, anyway. You came prepared, bringing your tripod in your backpack.

Before you make it very far, only walking about 25 feet away from the group, you hear your name being yelled. You turn back around, seeing an angry Minho storming towards you.

"What'd we say about going off on your own? Why are you being so difficult today?" he asks, his voice rising with every word he spits at you.

You don't know what's gotten everyone's panties in a bunch today, but you've just about had enough. The atmosphere has been tense all day, and you're officially sick of it.

"Why is everyone being so tense today? Gosh, I'm only going up to the sign!" You throw your arm behind, motioning to the spot only about 50 feet away from where you and Minho stand.

"No, you will not be going up there, especially not by yourself. Stay with the rest of the group and stop being stubborn!" Minho's overly-critical eyes stare you down. He steps toward you, grabbing you by the elbow for the second time that day.

You wretch yourself away from him. "I've had enough with being man-handled today. I'm done! I'm going to wait in the van. Have fun without me!" you yell at him, stalking off towards the parking lot.

You see everyone had stopped what they were doing upon hearing the loud yells, and they're all watching you as you hurriedly make your way back to the vans. Your face flushes, embarrassment taking over your features.

You pull on the door to the van, realizing it's locked. You stomp your foot and whip around, finding everyone still staring at you with varying expressions. "Someone please unlock this door before I have a mental breakdown," you beg, feeling the beginnings of an anxiety attack taking over your body.

The driver, just feet away sitting on a bench, searches for the keys in his jacket, finally unlocking the door for you. You climb in, slamming the door behind you.

You stumble over the front row of seats, laying down in the back away from the concerned gazes of your members and the rest of the staff. Your chest feels constricted, the air in your lungs feeling limited in supply. Tears stream down your face at the unwanted advances of an anxiety attack.

The fight with Minho paired with the building tension all day, along with the nerves for tonight's concert mixed into a deadly concoction in your brain, all too much for you to handle.

You're not left alone with your thoughts for long, the door to the van opening only minutes later. Hyunjin crawls in, shutting the door behind him.

"Hey, hey, shhh. It's ok, everything will be ok," he coos, rubbing your back. He's squeezed himself down in between the middle row of seats, his elbows resting on the armrests beside him.

"I'm sick of today," tears slide down you cheeks, your voice audibly shaking. "Everyone is being so distant and mean. What'd I do?"

"No honey, you didn't do anything. Everyone's just a little stressed for tonight. There's been some stuff circulating around online putting everyone on edge, but it'll all be fine," he reassures you, trying to roll you onto your other side so he can see your face. Your mind is too pre-occupied to register his words, letting them travel in one ear and out the other.

You allow him to turn you around, uncomfortably shifting in the small space. Your glossy eyes meet his, and he's quick to wrap you up into a tight hug, your own arms squished against his chest.

"Everyone's finishing up out there, then we're going to head to the venue a little earlier than planned. Does that sound ok?" he asks, affectionately running his fingers through your hair.

"Yea," you sniffle, pressing your face firmly into his shoulder. "I don't want to sit by Minho. Please don't make me," you cry harder at the thought.

"Alright, alright, shhh. You're only working yourself up more. You know we have to stay in our assigned vehicles, but I'm sure Seungmin and Felix will switch spots with him and Chan."

After a few more minutes of consoling from Hyunjin, everyone else has finished their photoshoots. Hyunjin leaves, but not before giving you another firm squeeze. Seungmin and Felix pile into the van first, both of them coming to sit beside you. You telepathically thank Hyunjin for asking them in passing.

Felix rests a comforting hand on your knee throughout the ride to the venue. Chan and Minho are silent, completely engrossed in their phones once again.

Once at the venue, you stay far from Minho, not wanting to deal with his negativity. You notice the security is amped up a bit compared to last tour, guards standing at every door leading to your dressing rooms. You figure it's because your band has gotten so much bigger, the Stay Family always growing exponentially.

In your dressing room, Felix occupies the chair by the mirror, your stylists brushing shades of brown and pink across his eyelids. Changbin stands nearby, the hair stylist just finishing up with a couple extra spurts of hairspray. You lay on the couch while you wait, playing Among Us with Jeongin and Hyunjin who reside in the other dressing room.

Changbin and Felix offered to go with you to your dressing room, and you gladly accepted their offer. You explained to them you didn't necessarily want to be alone; you just didn't want to be by Minho.

The stylists start to work on you once they're done with the boys. They finish your hair and makeup just in time for soundcheck, applying some last minute powder to your nose before sending you off to the stage.

Rehearsals go by smoothly. You and Minho are able to put your issues behind you for now. Your fans are so important to you, and the last thing you want to do is ruin their night because of some petty argument.

Management sends you off to the dressing rooms once again, satisfied with the quality of the soundcheck. You follow your members off stage before departing down a separate hallway in search of the bathroom.

You walk for another few seconds, taking a few random turns before your met with the door to the ladies' restroom. You do your business and take your time getting back to the dressing room as you guys don't go on for another hour. The venue your playing is beautiful, so you take a slight detour, admiring all the nice architecture.

You're startled from your peaceful thoughts once again by a furious Minho. "I cannot believe you'd go off on your own again. After all we've told you today, how could you possibly think that's ok?" he throws his hands up in disbelief, his tone snarky.

"I had to use the restroom! You guys have never had a problem with me walking around the venues by myself, why now? You have been up my ass all day. Leave me the hell alone for awhile." You push him out of the way, ramming his shoulder with your own in the tight hallway.

"Do you think this is fun for me, huh? Yelling at you all day long? Did you ever stop to think for one second that there may be something bigger going on here?" His voice sounds exhausted, leaving you slightly concerned because you still have hours of performing to do. However, your anger gets the best of you, and your concern gets pushed deep below the surface.

"Well, I'm sorry that I can't read your damn mind. If there's something bigger going on, then why hasn't anyone told me? I'm a big girl, not some toddler. I am a part of this group the same as everyone else, so why are things being kept from me?"

Minho starts to speak, but you immediately cut him off, not wanting to hear the lame excuses you're sure he's come up with. "You know what, I don't even wanna hear it. My mental health has went to shit today because of you, and if I wanna be able to perform in 30 minutes, I need to be away from you. We can talk about this later," you finish, rushing off to your dressing room, leaving Minho standing alone in the hallway.

Everyone seems to have deemed your dressing room the hangout spot until the concert officially begins, as all the other boys have gathered around, making themselves comfortable amongst the laid out furniture in the room.

You all make conversation, laughing at Changbin's cringey jokes; you're happy for the distraction, allowing your mind to wander from the fight you had with Minho.

10 minutes before you go on, management comes to fetch you to get ready, providing you all with in-ears and microphones.

Your pre-performance jitters have made themselves known, but you've been doing this long enough that you can turn that nervous energy into excitement.

5 minutes before you go on, you and the boys gather in a circle. Chan leads, knowing exactly how to get everyone hype before going on.

You're all standing now just outside of view from the fans on the side of the stage, waiting for your cue from management. Once they give it, you all make your way out onto the stage, relishing in the sounds of the screaming Stay that form the crowd.

All is going smoothly as you finish your center part during the bridge of Lalala, and you make your way to the side of the stage, waiting for the part in the song where you re-enter the choreo. With all your attenton focused on the performance, you fail to notice the commotion coming from the crowd just a few feet from you.

Your attention is pulled away from the performance when you're tackled from behind. You scream in agony and fear, having landed painfully on your wrist. If the snap you felt is anything to go by, it's definitely broken. However, this isn't your main concern at the moment. You open your eyes, and they’re immediately drawn to the shiny pocket knife the man has in his hand. He's quick to slash a small cut into your forearm before he is aggressively pushed off of you. Your attacker is taken down by security; they immediately throw a pair of handcuffs on him, taking him off stage.

The crowd has broke out into panicked cries, all of Stay wondering what happened and if you're ok.

Your members are quick to rush over to you, abandoning the remainder of the Lalala choreo. While it's felt like an eternity since you were tackled, it really only took security a few seconds to get the situation under control, and only a few more seconds for your members to surround you.

"What hurts?" Chan panics, crouching down beside you.

"My wrist," you sob, totally overwhelmed from all the commotion. The crowd is still roaring and your wrist throbbing like crazy. The cut on your arm is no comparison to the pain radiating from your wrist.

"Alright, let's move her off stage," a paramedic pushes through the barricade your members have formed around you and helps you stand to your feet. You quickly move off stage, wanting to get out of the crowd's view as soon as possible.

Once off to the side, one paramedic inspects your wrist, gently grasping your forearm to hold you steady, while another wraps the cut on your other arm.

"It definitely looks broken. We should get you to the hospital to get it X-rayed and possibly casted," he explains.

Minho steps up next to you, your earlier arguments swept from your mind. "I'll go with her. You guys finish up here. Probably should cut the setlist short anyway; we're already behind schedule."

You follow behind the paramedics, them leading you outside to the ambulance. Minho walks beside you, providing you familiarity in this uncomfortable situation.

The ride to the hospital is silent except for the beeping of the machines the paramedics have you connected to. Minho holds your unbroken hand the whole ride, your disagreements on the backburner for the moment.

The more time that passes, the sorer your body becomes. Your arms feel heavy, and your back feels like it was beaten with a hammer. You realize you've probably been in shock this whole time, and the attacker did more damage than you originally thought.

You finally find yourself in a hospital room, Minho pulling the chair up beside you.

"Well," the doctor says, pulling your X-ray up onto the screen, "This cut doesn't require stitches, just keep it bandaged and medicated. We'll give you a Tetanus shot for it, though, since it was done with a knife. As for your wrist, it's definitely broken. The good news, though, is that it doesn't look like it will require surgery. What color cast do you want?"

You're expression appears dazed to Minho and the doctor, your mind completely preoccupied. "Black," you mumble, just loud enough for him to hear you.

The doctor nods his head, disappearing from the room to retrieve the supplies to apply your cast and the shot.

You look to Minho, finally feeling like you have processed everything that's happened. "What the hell happened? How did that guy get past security, and with a knife especially?"

"Honestly, we're not sure. Management and security are reviewing the camera footage now. We were trying to be cautious; there was so much extra security tonight. It should've been impossible for anyone to get to you."

You process his words, a realization forming in your mind. "Did you guys know something about this beforehand?" Your eyebrows furrow. If they knew something, they for sure would have told you, too, right? "Is this what you were talking about in the hallway before the concert?"

"Y/N," he sighs, giving you a look full of remorse.

"No. I don't want any bullshit," you snap, "Did you or did you not know something was wrong before the concert? Is that why you have been giving me a hard time all day?" You start to put the puzzle pieces together, the day replaying in your head.

The overprotectiveness, the extra security, them not wanting you to go on your phone- they knew.

Minho looks to the ground, his shoulders slumping. "Look, we find out about some rumors going around online this morning, but-"

"Get out," you say, your voice tense.

His head snaps up, his remorseful eyes meeting your fiery ones. "What?"

"I said, Get. Out." Your unbroken hand aggressively points to the door.

"I'm not leaving you here alone. Let's just talk about this-"

"You had all day to talk to me about this, but now that I'm injured and traumatized you want to talk about it?" Your incredibly angry, and your words are filled with venom. "Get out, get out, get out!"

"Do you really think it's the best idea to be by yourself right now?" His eyes are filled with sorrow, his hands in dire need to reach out to you.

"If you don't leave right now, I will scream."

His watchful gaze rests on you for a couple seconds, before he finally gives in, rising to his feet. He walks toward the door. "We'll send a car to come get you when you're ready. There's security out here waiting, and your manager is out in the hall. I'll see you when you get back to the hotel."

He disappears out the door, once again leaving you alone with your thoughts. How dare they not tell you? There are threats going around online about you, and you're the last one they tell? In what world does that make any sense?

The doctor comes back in the room just a few minutes later. He's quick with putting your cast on, and he sends you on your way, requesting you stop by the front desk to sign a few documents before you go.

You follow him out the door, meeting up with your manager and security right outside the room.

After signing the paperwork, your manager leads you outside to the car that has been called for you.

Fans must've found out which hotel they took to you, and the outside of the hotel is flooded with Stay. Normally, you'd be ecstatic to see so many of them. However, you're exhausted and hurt, so you bring your hood over your head and stare at the ground, thankful for the security that surrounds you.

You climb in the back of the car, your manager following suit. "Why was I not informed about the threats online?" you question, your eyebrows furrowing in anger.

"The concert was going to go on no matter what, so we figured it'd be easier to get you out there if you didn't know about them."

Your jaw drops at her statement. "That is not fair, how can you just assume that? I had a right to know about this," you argue.

"This isn't really up for discussion. It's the way we chose to handle it, and that's that."

You're in disbelief at her careless attitude. "How did the guys find out about it then?"

"Nosy little shits," she laughs, but you're not sure how she's finding any humor in this situation. "They saw them online themselves. We practically had to threaten their contracts to get them not to tell you."

Your heart constricts at this new information. Emotions flood your system, and you're suddenly feeling incredibly guilty for your interaction with Minho in the hospital room. All the arguments between the two of you flood your mind, and remorse rushes your body.

They have just been trying to keep you safe all day. Trying to keep you off your phone, not letting you wander by yourself, the whispers behind your back. It all makes sense now. And you realize you've been a royal bitch all day to the wrong people.

You turn to look out the window for the remainder of the drive, knowing it's useless to argue with your manager. What she says goes. This doesn't mean you're not angry with her and the rest of management, though. This conversation needs to be had in a professional setting, not in the backseat of a car when you're by yourself.

Once you arrive at the hotel, your quick to jump out of the car, wanting to be away from your careless manager. However, you stand directly outside the door, patiently waiting for security to escort you to your room.

They walk you all the way up to your shared room with Seungmin, and you're not surprised to find all of them waiting for you when you open the door.

They're conversations halt, all eyes snapping to you. You walk in and set your bag down on the bed. Your eyes well up with tears for what feels like the hundredth time that day. "I'm so sorry," you cry, afraid to meet their concerned gazes. "Today has just been so overwhelming, and my manager sucks, and my back hurts, and I have been so rude to you guys all day-," your words are cut short by another sob wracking through your sore body. You sniffle some more, bringing your sleeve up to wipe at your face. "Min, I'm so sorry for kicking you out. I should've just listened to what you had to say. I'm such a horrible person."

All the guys are quick to stand, not wanting you to rile yourself up anymore. Hyunjin comes over to you first, gently guiding you to sit on the bed. Everyone else follows, all of you now gathered on the queen sized bed. "Listen," Minho starts, comforting you, "Absolutely none of this is your fault, you hear?" He pulls you down next to him, his arm coming up around your shoulders. "Today has been an awful day, and you don't need to work yourself up about how you treated us."

"Yea, but-"

"No buts, you need to rest. We are not mad at you."

"Not one bit. We love you so much, and we're so sorry you had to go through that. Are you ok? How's your wrist?" Chan asks from the edge of the bed, placing a comforting hand on your ankle.

"It hurts, but the doctor gave me some painkillers to take for the next few days. My cut didn't need stitches, but I have to keep it bandaged until it heals," you explain, your words coming out steadier than before.

Your cries eventually calm down, leaving you sniffling every now and again. Felix notices you've calmed down, and he nudges your leg, opening his arms for you. You crawl into them, relaxing into his calm and comforting embrace. The rest of them are quick to follow, creating one big group hug.

You know this situation is certainly not over. I'm sure you guys will press charges, and you'll probably have to release a statement of some kind. It seems that management and you guys have come to a silent agreement to deal with everything in the morning, and you couldn’t be more grateful for it.

~ ~ ~

Part 2

[minisugakoobies]

Whipped | KMG

Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (no agab)

Genre: fluff, idiots to lovers, slightly crack-ish, non-idol!AU

Rating: T

Warnings: Mingyu's a stubborn idiot, but he's also the softest human alive, Minghao's kind of a jerk tbh, use of they/them pronouns for reader, this is honestly just fluffy nonsense meant to give you warm fuzzies

Word Count: 3.9k

Disclaimers: Obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: No matter what his friends say, Mingyu is definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent not whipped for you.

A/N: Yep, another Mingyu fic. I can't help it. 🤷‍♀️

Unbeta’d as usual. If you liked this, please let me know! I’d love to hear what you think (but please be kind I’m fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

Kim Mingyu is not whipped.

This is what he forcefully reminds himself when you walk into Minghao’s party, looking sweeter than a spring day, a phrase which if he’s being honest is maybe a little more poetic than he’d normally use. That’s okay. He can be a little dramatic if he wants. Why not? Seokmin does it all the time and no one bats an eye.

In any case. Mingyu is not whipped.

That’s why he turns his head, pretending he doesn’t see you dazzle everyone around you with your beautiful smile. While he’s pretending, he also acts like he can’t feel his own lips tug upwards at the soft chime of your laughter, a Pavlovian response to your happiness. No, his smile is unrelated to whatever you’re doing. He’s just in a good mood, one that didn’t suddenly ascend to the heavens when you entered the room.

Mingyu’s not whipped.

He sinks further into the couch where he’s sitting, a little off to the side of where Minghao, Jeonghan, and Seokmin are talking. Theoretically, he’s part of the conversation, adding the occasional hum or laugh, but he’s really not contributing much of anything. He’s too busy thinking about you. Not like that. 

(But not not like that, either.) 

In any case, Mingyu remains firmly unwhipped - solid, unshaken, definitely not falling apart over you. He’ll be absolutely fine, as long as you stay on the other side of the room, where your charms can’t reach him. Except that he can’t stop watching you, and now you’re looking at him, and even though he averts his eyes, it’s too late. He can sense you walking towards him, his heartbeat increasing with every step you take.

Not. Whipped. 

“Hey there, stranger.” 

Instinctively, at the sound of your voice, he glances up at you, like a flower tilting its face towards your light. He nods at your greeting, mumbling a hello of his own. The others sitting around him all greet you as well, but you merely nod in reply, your full attention on Mingyu. 

“Do you wanna tell me why you’ve been avoiding me?”

If Mingyu had a list of things he loved about you, which he does not, being straightforward would be near the top. Of this totally fictional list that does not exist. He admires it, actually, the way you have no patience for dishonesty or deception.

Even though your question is blunt, your smile remains soft as you wait for his response, and Mingyu rethinks his ranking. Item number one on that imaginary list - the way you smile, at him, specifically. It’s so warm, like being hugged by the rays of the sun itself. It makes him happier than he ever thought possible. He wants to curl up like a cat and bask in the feeling. If he’s not careful, he might start purring right now.

He’s totally super normal about you.

“Me?” he asks, stalling for time, praying that a somewhat reasonable explanation falls into his lap in the meantime. He’s only a fair-to-moderate bullshitter, so his hopes are low. He can feel the others staring at the two of you, very obviously listening, because no one in your friend group seems to respect boundaries. It’s not helping. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you chirp back, and he does, he knows exactly what you mean, just like you know exactly what he’s doing. “You’ve been ignoring my texts. What’s going on?”

What’s going on is that Mingyu is not whipped, even if it feels like his insides are turning to melty goo beneath your inquisitive gaze. 

“I’m not ignoring you. I’ve just been busy,” he shoots, aiming for breezy and landing just shy of nonchalant. 

“Busy doing what?” 

“You know. Stuff.” Oh god, he really sucks at this. “And things.” Jesus Christ.

You fold your arms, and Mingyu thinks it’s cute the way you’re squinting at him, one eye closed as you assess his response. Unbearably cute, actually, and getting worse the longer it goes on.

“Yeahhhh, that’s not good enough,” you inform him, and with one hand on his arm (Mingyu ignores the electric current that lights up his nervous system when you touch him. It’s just static and definitely not anything else), you pull him to his feet and lead him out of Minghao’s apartment and into the empty hallway. He follows, not because he’d follow you anywhere, but because he’s curious.

Once the door is closed behind you, you turn to him, a serious expression on your face. “Gyu. Be honest with me.” Always, he thinks reflexively. “This is about what those guys said the other night, isn’t it?” 

Of course you know exactly what it is that has his head spinning right now. The two of you have been friends for ages, but Mingyu still can’t get over how easily you always seem to read him. 

A few nights ago, Mingyu and you had been out to dinner with a few others, and it had been like any other time you were hanging out with your friends, lots of laughing and teasing and just being happy dumbasses together. Only on this particular evening, the food had taken a very long time to arrive, but the drinks kept coming in the meanwhile, and you’d gotten a little drunker than usual, and a little clingier, sticking to Mingyu like a magnet.

Not that Mingyu minded having you hanging on his side all night. Nor did he mind keeping a close eye on you, making sure you were drinking your water and eating to help soak up some of the alcohol. None of that bothered him at all - you were his best friend; why wouldn’t he take care of you? Especially when you smiled at him and thanked him for being so sweet, so good to you, over and over.

(He can’t even begin to explain how that made him feel.)

The others noticed. And commented. Mingyu tried to ignore them, but they just wouldn’t shut up. By the time they joked that Mingyu was your trained puppy, suggesting you buy him a pretty collar and a leash to go with it, he’d had enough.

And when he tried to express that, Minghao had shut him down with a scoff, a wave of his hand, and one word. 

“Whipped.” 

Mingyu admits that he’s a lot of things, but he’s not a whipped man. He’s not. He’s not, no matter what the others say. No matter how you’re looking at him right now, concern etched all over your lovely face, lip tucked between your teeth as you wait for his answer. He’s strong. And proud. 

(And maybe a stubborn idiot, but that’s neither here nor there.)

He considers just not responding at all, but he knows how persistent you are, so he settles for a half-shrug. You sigh, leaning back against the wall, arms crossing in front of you. 

“You’re being ridiculous, you know that?” you say softly, shaking your head. “They were joking. They said so! And you know I didn’t take it seriously for a second.” 

“You didn’t hear everything they said!” he protests, crossing his own arms. You’d missed most of the barbs flying his way that night, too busy enjoying yourself. Which weirdly made him happy. He hated the thought of those guys ruining your night. “They said I was your pet!” 

“So? Jeonghan always tells Seokmin he’s got the zoomies when he gets hyper. He knows he’s not actually a dog! It’s just stupid jokes! Our friends are dumb!” you laugh, throwing up your hands. “That’s what we like about them!”

Mingyu can’t help it, he starts to laugh with you, but then he catches himself, shaking his head. “You don’t get it.” 

“Then help me understand.” 

How can he help you understand, when he’s not entirely sure he understands it himself, this storm inside him, clouding his mind? 

“I…” He glances wildly around the hallway, but there’s nothing out here to help him. He can hear the bass from whatever song is playing inside the party, a low, steady thrumming that contrasts the erratic thumping of his heart. “I don’t like being called weak.”

You tilt your head. “Is that what they said?” 

“Yeah. Or I guess… they implied it. When they said I was whipped for you.” He lets out a frustrated sigh, knowing he’s pouting and it doesn’t help his defense, but it’s just his default setting. “But I’m not.” 

Because he’s staring into your eyes as he speaks, he catches it - the quick expression of sorrow that pinches your brow at his explanation - but it’s fleeting, gone in an instant. If he weren’t watching your face so intently, he would’ve missed it. 

“Gyu,” you sigh, the corners of your mouth lifting in what is clearly meant to be a smile, except it doesn’t reach your eyes, and for a moment, the confusing tide of emotions inside him still, and he feels only sadness. That’s not how you smile. “Can you please let it go? Everyone was being an idiot. That’s nothing new! Besides…” You trail off, staring at the floor.

He waits a beat. “Besides what?”

You huff and shrug. “It’s nothing, forget it.” 

The uncertainty in your tone unnerves Mingyu even more than your fake smile. Where’s that directness of yours? 

“No, tell me. Besides what?” 

With a deep breath, you look him straight in the eye. “Besides, I’m not delusional. I know you don’t like me like that. I’m not your type.” 

Your voice grows quieter at the end of your sentence, just as the music coming from the other side of the door fades out, and to Mingyu, the silence only amplifies your words, leaving them ringing loudly in his ears like a sonic boom. You’re not his type?

He blinks rapidly, as if that will somehow help. 

“You - you’re not - “ He pauses, searching fruitlessly for the end of his sentence, but it’s nowhere to be found.

“Right. I’m not.” 

The laugh you let out sounds so fake that he winces, and a terrible realization hits him. You’ve taken his stammering to be a complete thought - a confirmation of what you’d said, that you aren’t someone he’d like like that. Curling in on yourself, arms wrapping around your stomach, you shrink away from him, only a few inches but the distance feels so vast. 

“Let’s just forget about it, okay?” 

Mingyu’s speechless. As his silence grows, so does the space between the two of you, until you’re standing by the door, hand on the knob. He feels like he should be doing something right now, snapping into action of some sort, but his brain is still stuck on your declaration.

“Okay,” he finally croaks, because it’s clear that you’re waiting for him to speak, and he doesn’t know what else to do but agree with you, because you’re usually right and he usually agrees with you. 

“Right,” you say again, but you look slightly unsure, and it rattles Mingyu, making him feel even more unsettled than before. “Okay.” And then you open the door and slip back inside Minghao’s apartment.

Alone in the hallway, Mingyu slumps against the wall. Well. That was a spectacular failure. He’d tried to explain how their comments upset him and all he’d done was upset you. The shift in your demeanor was so obvious to him, a flashing neon sign basically screaming “you fucked up!” in blazing red light. 

He gives himself a minute to try to pull himself together, then he returns to the party. As soon as he’s inside, he scans the room, until he finds you standing in the corner, hanging out with another friend, Chan, talking and laughing like everything is fine. Which, as Mingyu feels deep in the pit of his stomach, he knows it is not. 

His previously vacated spot on the couch remains open, so he slips back into it, ignoring the curious looks of his friends. He doesn’t want to answer any stupid questions right now, doesn’t want to deal with any of their crap while he tries to wrap his head around what just happened in the hallway. 

Naturally, his friends immediately start nosing into his business.

“What was that all about?” Minghao asks, turning to face Mingyu. Seokmin and Jeonghan both twist towards him, eager to hear his answer. 

“What was what about?” Mingyu replies, eyes flitting to you again. Chan must be bringing his A game with his jokes tonight, because you’re giggling Mingyu’s favorite giggle, the one that makes your nose twitch like a little bunny’s. It always makes him swell with pride when he coaxes it out of you with one of his dumb jokes, so seeing it right now and knowing he’s not the cause of it, well, it’s not exactly helping improve his mood.

“What was that dramatic exit?” Minghao gestures towards the door. 

“It was nothing. We were just talking.” Again he looks at you. And again, your attention is focused solely on the man beside you. Mingyu doesn’t understand. Can’t you feel him looking at you? 

“Uh-huh. Sure,” Jeonghan drawls, miming the crack of a whip with his hand. Seokmin and Minghao crack up beside Mingyu, but he doesn’t care. He’s too busy trying to catch your eye. He wants to see you smile at him. Just one smile. That’s all he needs to make him feel better. 

His friends lose interest in teasing him when he doesn’t respond, and the conversation moves on. As does the evening. Mingyu bonds with the couch, not leaving except to grab refills of his drink, but otherwise he’s a fixed point in this party, unlike you, who are constantly moving, floating from friend to friend, spreading joy across the room.

Spreading joy to everyone except him, that is. No matter how much he watches you, your light never shines on him again, not like it did earlier. He knows what this is. You’re the one doing the avoiding now. And oh my god does he hate it. He feels cold and lonely, withering away, dying for your attention. For your affection. Because he needs it to thrive.

Oh. 

Oh wow, he’s stupid. The others are right. 

Kim Mingyu is whipped. 

For you, and you only. 

Like it has been every few minutes since he returned from the hallway, his gaze is drawn back to you, and this time, it’s different. Because the mask you’ve been wearing all night finally slips, and Mingyu sees the wrinkle of your brow, and the slight downturn of your mouth, and he understands. You’re just as miserable as he is.

That absolutely will not do. He needs to fix this right now.

Mingyu rises to his feet again, not even waiting for Minghao to finish the story he’s been telling, not that he’s been listening anyway, and starts walking towards you. When he’s a mere arm’s length away, it occurs to him that he doesn’t have any plan, just an urgent need to make you look happy again. And also pay attention to him, because he needs your attention just like he needs you, so he panics, and grabs your hand. 

You look at him in surprise as his fingers slip between yours.

“Come with me. Please,” he adds, a bit hasty in his anxiousness, already tugging you out of the room and into the hallway. A pair of voices follow you both out, as Minghao and Jeonghan both jeer loudly at the sight of Mingyu dragging you away, but thankfully the door drowns them out, letting only the beat of the music through.   Which would be a good thing, except that now it’s just Mingyu and a very quiet you. With your hand still in his. 

“Is everything o-”

“You are my type.” 

You start speaking at the same time he does, but he’s louder, blurting his entire sentence out before you can finish yours. Your mouth freezes in an ‘o,’ and oh, Mingyu can’t believe what a dumbass he’s been for so long. How did everyone else see it but him? 

“I just. Wanted you to know. That you are the type of person. That I like.” Why can’t. He complete. A whole sentence? “Smart, funny, gorgeous….” 

You glance away from him, suddenly shy at that last word, and it just reinforces Mingyu’s point. 

Unfortunately, it does not make it any easier for him to say what he’s trying to say.

“But you’re not just my type? You’re the person I like. Hao’s right. They’re all right. I am whipped for you.” He frowns. “Damn it, I hate it when Hao’s right.” 

That makes you laugh, a quick “ha!” that makes your eyes light up, and Mingyu finds himself feeling stronger, so he doubles down. Might as well own it. 

“But he did, he got this one right. I’m down bad.” He brings your entwined hands up, clutching them in front of him, maybe pressing his luck a little, maybe laying it on thick, but it’s barely an exaggerated version of the truth if it’s not pure simple fact. 

“‘Gyu,” you groan, rolling your eyes, but there’s a twitch in the corner of your mouth that won’t cease, and it makes his heart sing. “Knock it off. I know what you’re doing.”

“I don’t think you do.” He takes a deep breath and steps forward, backing you into the wall behind you. Your hands are caught between you, and he presses the palm of yours against his chest, wondering if you feel the spike in his heartbeat when you inhale sharply. 

“Maybe you should tell me,” you say, eyes wide but voice calm, and again, he marvels at how you strike straight at the heart of the matter, and he decides he can do the same. 

“I’m telling you that I like you.”

The next few seconds are the longest in Mingyu’s life. Nothing has ever lasted this long in the history of time. Entire civilizations are built and fall within the blink of your eyelashes. You keep looking back and forth between his eyes, and he hopes that you see whatever it is you need to believe him, and tries his best to convey clearly what he feels. Even if he’s having trouble speaking his thoughts, at least his gaze can express it. 

“You like me…” 

He nods. “A lot.” Now that he’s said it out loud, it’s hitting him just how much.  

“You like me…” you start again slowly, frowning slightly, “but you don’t like it when others point that out?” 

“I just - “ Mingyu breaks off, a sharp puff of breath exploding out in frustration. How to explain it? “I didn’t like them saying it the way they did. It… it made me feel like they were calling me weak or something.” Your frown deepens and he stumbles on. “But - but that’s stupid, and I know it’s stupid. And I - I don’t care anymore.” 

He clings to your hands, a lifeboat in a sea of turmoil, the warmth of your fingers locked between his giving him hope that this isn’t going completely downhill, this sudden confession of his. It’d be just like him to ruin this with his impatience. He’s always too eager. 

“So what do you care about?” you ask, gaze burning into his. 

And then there’s you. Always so calm and direct. God, he adores you. 

“You. How you feel.” 

As soon as the words leave his lips, you lower your eyes, in the briefest of glances at his mouth, and Mingyu feels that electric shock again, tingling all the way to his fingertips. He barely breathes as he waits for you to speak.

“If you really are whipped for me,” you finally say, “you should go tell them that.” You jerk your chin in the direction of the door.

If that’s what you want, then that’s what he’ll do. Without a second’s hesitation, Mingyu spins, his hand gripping yours to pull you back into the apartment with him. 

Seokmin gawks openly as Mingyu stomps across the room. Minghao and Jeonghan exchange a glance that last night would’ve set Mingyu spiraling, but now rolls off him like water. Mingyu comes to a stop directly in front of his friends, squaring his shoulders, trying frantically to corral his thoughts into something coherent. 

But before he can open his mouth, Minghao leans forward, placing his chin in his hand. “Shhh, guys, I think the puppy’s going to speak!” 

“Hao, shut the fuck up.” 

Minghao bristles when Mingyu snaps at him. Jeonghan and Seokmin both cackle, but then Mingyu glares at the two of them, and they fall silent. He takes a deep breath. 

“I just wanted you to know that I don’t care what you guys say about me anymore, because I like YN.” 

The words spill out of him so easily, not even the tiniest nudge needed. He glances at you to find you wearing a delighted expression and his heart goes buoyant again. He decides to ride the wave. 

“They’re amazing. I’d do anything to make them smile, so if that makes me whipped, then I guess I’m fucking whipped.” 

He’s facing you now, not caring if the others can see the obvious lovestruck look in his eye as he keeps talking, not to them, but to you. Aware that they’re probably all smirking at one another, because they figured it out before he did, but he doesn’t give a single goddamn. 

“I can’t get enough of their smile. And the way they laugh. I like how sweet they are. How honest.” Mingyu can’t stop talking at this point. It’s all gotta come out. “But never mean about it. Even when it’s something you don’t want to hear. Especially when it’s something you need to hear.” 

Your hand twitches in his with every sentence he states. He squeezes back gently as his statements get louder.

“I’m not kidding when I say I’d do anything to make them smile. I’d walk the ocean floor for them. Climb a volcano and surf the lava down barefoot. Capture a star fr-”

“Oh my god, we get it, you like them!” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Enough with the bad poetry.” 

“Also? We know.” Minghao snorts. “No need for the dramatic announcement, it’s not news.” 

Mingyu barely hears him, too lost in the way you’re smiling at him now. Forget his earlier rankings. This smile beats all the others. Shoots directly to the top of the list, which, now that he thinks about it, he kinda wants to write down and give to you, maybe framed. Or maybe he’ll stick it on his fridge - with a heavy magnet, of course, because it’s such a long list.

He completely loses all interest in the rest of the room, even though he’s pretty sure most of the party is staring at the two of you. Instead, he finds himself hanging anxiously on the breath you take, hoping for you to say something, to give him an indication of where things stand between you now. Because he knows you’ll be straightforward and get right to the point, whatever’s on your mind. 

You step closer, close enough for him to feel your soft laugh on his lips as you give him a look that sends his pulse rocketing. You’ve never looked at him like this before.

Forget a list. He’s gonna write a whole book. 

“Come on, whipped boy. Take me home.”

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[stariikis]

trust myself

desc ; sitting in with riki as he films his en-note and accompanying him through the multitude of emotions that follow.

pairing ; idol!nishimura riki x gf!reader genre ; fluff, established rs wc ; 1228 notes ; understand that i love riki because i see a version of myself in him...

When your boyfriend sits down at the hotel table, a singular lamp illuminating his screen with a yellow warmth, your heart aches at just the thought of what he might say next. Though Riki’s always been very skilled at switching between seriously honest and teasingly goofy, he becomes a completely different person when he’s filming en-notes. 

He becomes so vulnerable to the invisible crowd that it hurts you more than it irks you. And sometimes, when confesses struggles even you have never heard from his mouth before, you wonder if you’re not enough for him. Not good enough a listener. Not trustworthy enough for him to confide in. 

How come he only opens up under the pressure of the camera lens?

“Don’t stress out,” you mumble quickly before he presses the red record button on his phone screen. Three simple words and yet they have Riki pausing for a long moment, digesting your words. 

After a while, he nods curtly. “I won’t.” He’s lying through his teeth. But he beckons you closer and as you lean in, he kisses your eyelid. Pulling away, he seems to smile slightly in an effort to coax you into relaxing. As if he wants you to give it up. 

Though the tender action does send a wave of serenity through you, you can’t help but to feel a lingering sense of dread, with questions unanswered running through your mind. When will I get to find out something about him that the fans won’t? Or does he think he should just be honest with everyone at the same time? Is he not conscious of the world being familiar with the very depths of his soul?

Or are you just envious that somebody who isn’t exclusive to him is able to understand him like you do? 

“27 June 2024.” Before you can get lost in your thoughts, Riki starts speaking. You hate with all your heart and soul the exhausted, subdued shadow over his features. He starts talking about their recent concert in Hiroshima — how they hold their Japanese single, ‘Blossom’, close to their hearts; how he’s proud of Jay for pressing through their performance even with an injured knee. 

Then he gets to the hard stuff. 

It’s like he already has one foot out the door when you send him a glare and he ignores it out the corner of his eye. As soon as he opens his mouth again, gaze trailing off to the bottom of the screen, you know it’s coming. The same phrase he likes to repeat over and over again, and then cover up with a ‘but you know, I just love performing in front of you guys.’ 

“I do have some regrets.” 

You hope your glare is like a slap in the face to him. If it’s not, you don’t know what you’re going to do with him. All his following words just seep down the drain. Why does it pain you more than it pains him, to hear the words, ‘I need to work harder’ come out his mouth? Like he genuinely doesn’t see that he’s pushing himself to the limit already? This is exactly why you despise concert season. Coupled with jetlag, the mental form of fatigue seems to strike around these times as does physical, and it’s never good for Riki. 

His words fall on deaf ears. You’re boiling with an inexplicable rage, but it’s the most tame version of the concept of anger.

You just don’t understand, as he stops the recording and turns back to you. You can’t tell if he plain doesn’t get the weight of the situation, or is trying to avoid your gaze solely due to that reason. 

So before he returns to his usual playful self – you can see the light slowly returning to his eyes; he’s about to shove you to the other side of the bed with a snide quip – you grab his wrist and look at him scrutinisingly. 

“Do you mean all those things you said?” You stare at him imploringly in the dim lighting. “Every single one of them?” 

“Do you wish you could say more?” You say breathlessly, desperately looking from eye to eye like they’ll provide all the answers. 

Clearly taken aback, your boyfriend gently pulls his hand from your vice grip. “I mean it,” he murmurs sincerely. “I mean it all. How could I not?” 

Your gaze travels down his neck to the safety-pin necklace he refuses to take off. The meaning behind it is special to him, and likewise, he can’t be seen a day without it. His dedication and sincerity will never be deniable. So why do you feel as if there’s something he’s holding back, not telling you… a truth that he’s altered? 

“There’s nothing more to say?” You press, slightly disappointed because there’s two explanations for this. One, he’s really got nothing left in him to spill, especially not to you. Or two, he just doesn’t want you to know what more he has to say. You can’t decide which’d be worse. 

“...” 

“I’m sorry.” 

He reaches up to fiddle with his necklace as he climbs into bed beside you. “I know. You’re concerned because I hardly open up to you one-on-one. Rather, you have to hear it second-hand when I have ‘conversation’ with the fans.” 

Right. He’s extremely insightful too. How did I forget that about him? 

You just nod, taking care not to look too upset by the situation. 

“Would it be a lame excuse to say that it’s because I don’t trust myself enough?” He whispers as he unzips his patchy blue jacket and unclips his earrings. “To come clean to you, that is.” 

“Yes,” you say instantly, lightheartedly. ‘Okay but seriously, why don’t you trust yourself? Is that the truth, or do you not trust me enough? They’re different, you know.” 

“I know…” he scoots closer to you and lies down on his side, facing you. “To put it simply, I’m scared that what comes out is a sugarcoated version of the truth. When I face you, I don’t want to worry you with… everything. When I face the camera… it’s different. Because what are they going to do about it? There’s nothing they can do to help.” 

You make eye contact with him, and finally a sliver of anxiety crosses his orbs right before your eyes. 

“I don’t like it when you put up a front with me though,” you say. “It worries me even more than you think.” 

“Well, I know now,” he scoffs, moving the hair out your face and looking at you with such a tender look of love that the surroundings all fade away to dust. “I’m sorry. I’ll confide in you better next time… wow that sounds so…” 

He cringes and buries his head into the pillows cutely. A mixture of affection and relief floods over you at this, and you touch his hands in silence. 

When he lifts his face from the pillow, he pouts endearingly and intertwines your fingers together. “Seriously, there’s nobody I trust more than you, okay? Sorry if it didn’t feel that way.” 

So, even though he’s supposed to be getting rest for their upcoming activities, he spends the rest of the night telling you the full, honest truth — and of course he pairs this with a bunch of kisses, teasing remarks and cuddles.

more of my works >

[ventismacchiato]

O4 stuck with you — screaming and fighting !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

You and Scaramouche were dragged backstage and away from prying eyes, faces flushed and chests rising as the adrenaline from the argument on stage had yet to wear off. The dressing room was still, only filled with you both throwing insults at one another. The rest of your group members shared sheepish looks with one another, deciding to let you both get it out of your system.

As soon as the door was tightly shut you whirled around to face Scara.

“You just always have to get the last word, don’t you?” you asked, stepping closer to him.

“You’re the one who started yelling at me, I was just defending myself,” Scaramouche replied, his tone equally heated, but his posture was much more composed than you. 

“You’re the one who told me to give up,” you accused. 

“Yeah, give up the trophy so I could hold it,” Scara sighed.

“Yeah, as if you deserve to hold it.”

“Now that you mention it, I do deserve it more than you.” 

“You don’t know what it’s like to actually work for something,” you glared, voice laced with contempt, “You probably get everything handed to you by your mom.”

He glanced away, abruptly uncomfortable. “You shouldn’t talk. Your voice is even more unpleasant when you’re whining.” 

Naturally, you kept talking

“That’s the only reason you’re even here with the rest of us,” you continued, letting your jealousy cloud your senses, “I can’t be the only one who thinks that.”

Scaramouche’s face hardened. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he muttered, shoving his way past you to leave the dressing room before turning around one last time.

“Nobody even knew she was my mother until I became a trainee. I used a different name on the application forms. But if hanging onto that little fact makes you feel better about being so pathetic then be my fucking guest.” 

And with that he slammed the door behind him.

You hated the way he could make you inexplicably self-conscious. It used to be a foreign sensation, one left behind long ago in insecure adolescence.

You stood there, breathing heavily, as the door swung shut. The room was silent, everyone stunned by the intensity of the confrontation.

Lumine stepped up and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, slowly guiding you outside to cool off. 

“We’re also gonna head back,” Aether awkwardly laughed, grabbing Childe and Kazuha by their collars and dragging them out.

“So, that just happened.”

“Shut up, Venti.”

“We really need to broaden your vocabulary, Y/n. Your insults could be better.”

“You too, Fischl! Zip it!”

stuck with you!

masterlist — prev | next

begging u guys to let me use ur usernames as fans in this au pls let me make u a crazy stantwt user xx but pls comment on the masterlist so i see it

also everyone saying scara keeps eating yn up w insults is sending me 😭😭

title from the way i loved you by ts it suits scarayn so well

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

notes — 👍 leave me comments and asks instead of begging for updates pleek i need motivation to post more

taglist — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @jangyung @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @chuuismylife @flowerypesky @creammpuff @justanothertiredreader @boxdisappeared @kissmiere @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @pjsucks @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @herebyaccident0 @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @vxcmx @domimiki @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic

[cheeseceli]

Reassuring them

Pairing: Ot8 Skz × Gn!reader (individually)

Genre: headcanons, fluff, reverse comfort (1.6k words)

Request: could you do something sweet where the members are insecure and reader is comforting and reassuring them?

Warnings: mentions of insecurities regarding body image, personality and the idol life; mentions of food in Changbin's.

A/n: because everyone deserves comfort!! Also, this pic of Han 😭😭 | help Gaza

When you reassure them by...

Bang Chan - simply looking at him

Chan never really liked his features, saying he would change most of his appearance given the opportunity. That's something that never really made sense to you. How could one dislike its appearance when it looked like that? He looked absolutely gorgeous in your point of view, and it pained you that he didn't see it.

Although you said thousands of compliments to him, that's not what made his perception of himself change. It helped, of course, but the most impactful thing you've ever done was to look at him. You looked at him the same all the time: lovestruck.

When he got all dressed up for a photoshoot, when he was sweating after practice, when he was with make up, when he just woke up... You would always look at him like he was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. At first he tried to hide himself from your gaze. He felt shy and unworthy of it in the beginning. But when it didn't work and you kept on admiring him all the same, he started to give in.

Now he likes the way you look at him. Although it still makes him shy, he hopes that you'll keep looking at him like that. And even though he's not totally there just yet, he's starting to see what you see whenever there's a mirror in front of him.

Lee Know - shutting down people's comments

Minho knows most people wouldn't describe him as the most affectionate person to ever exist. Most of the time he'd be okay with that. He needs his space and words of affirmation isn't his better love language. Nothing wrong with that, right?

But when people start to say that he's a bad boyfriend, he wonders how truthful those statements are. And he really wasn't supposed to eavesdrop, but when he hears your friends calling you to question your relationship, he can't help but feel defeated by hearing it. However, he doesn't miss how quick you are to shut down your friend's comments and list times where Minho made you feel loved.

And later on, when you see him, he notices how your eyes shine. There's still this voice on his head accusing him of not doing enough, but he also knows that you don't love him any less because of that.

Maybe, anytime now, he'll realise that he's already doing way more than enough in your eyes.

Changbin - caring for him

At some point in his life, Changbin convinced himself that he needed to be strong. He had to take all the weight of the world in his shoulders and he should do it smiling. That's one of the reasons why he usually keeps his problems to himself: he doesn't want to bother anyone.

But of course, this is not an easy task. Sometimes he fails to do so. And when he does, that's when he feels his world falling down all at once. He feels incapable, useless, nothing. And the words he repeats to himself get harsher every time. That is until you put a stop to it.

He never really allowed anyone to fully take care of him because that would go against his ideal of "I need to be the strongest". But you never asked for permission. You would just do it. And when he finds himself eating the food you cooked him, having his hair brushed by you and the tears being dried by your fingers, he feels like it's okay.

You make his weakness seem like a good thing, and if it keeps going like this, he might as well believe that it's not even a weakness at all.

Hyunjin - saying "I love you"

Every once in a while Hyunjin falls in this dilemma of receiving thousands of "I love you"s but not believing them in the slightest. Did these people on the internet, who have not seen him not once, loved him or the image of him? How much could he believe out of those confessions?

That made him wonder for nights if the real him, the one the internet didn't really know, was also worthy of love. And then he would feel himself falling on this rabbit hole where he was stuck. His questions started to become affirmations that would insist that no, he could never be truly loved.

You'd never hesitate on disagreeing with that though. Not when you knew him better than anyone, probably even more than himself, and still showed love in everything you would do. By the way you hugged him to how you'd text him goodnight every night. Your gifts and your acts. Everything screamed "I love you". Especially when you literally said those three words that Hyunjin desired more than anything.

Little by little Hyunjin felt that his own skin was also good and loveable. He started to glow because of that. That made even more people love him. This time though, he welcomed the affection with open arms. He felt like he deserved it this time.

Han - being there

Self doubt is a funny thing, Han thinks to himself. Once it appears in your life, it's extremely hard to get it out. And even though you know all of your insecurities aren't true, you still don't fully believe it. So when Han starts to think that he is insufferable, that all his friends hate him and that he deserves to be alone, it's hard to stop thinking that.

But then he sees you. And it's like the sun peeking from foggy weather: light at last. You're always there. In his happy moods, when he's sad, when he's screaming nonsense. It doesn't matter what is happening, you're always there. You're the affirmation that, no matter what happens, you'll be there. That he deserves to have someone by him.

He still finds himself distancing himself at times, when the insecurities speak louder. But your presence always reminds him of what's the truth. And sooner or later, the self doubt drowns a bit and he finds himself being more comfortable and confident. He allows himself to have people, to have you, in his life without the fear of abandonment.

Felix - endlessly complimenting him

Insecurities are nothing new to Felix. He has grown used to doubting himself and his actions constantly now. Add that to the infinite amount of hate he receives every day and it's easy to just drown in this endless cycle of self doubt and hatred.

However, he notices that he is now taking it easier with himself. The inner voices that could never stop complaining were slowly but surely stopping. They were being replaced with your sweet and soft spoken compliments.

It was almost second nature to you, he thinks. To just overflow with love and end up reassuring him with your words. He doesn't think you realise it, but it seems that you can always read his mind. You can always tell what he needs to hear. And you always say it as it's the most genuine thing you've ever said.

So when he stops listening to the hate and just hears your voice instead, he knows exactly how it happened. He also knows that, if it's up to you, your praises would be a thing that would follow him for the rest of his life.

Seungmin - taking pictures of him

Seungmin never really liked his smile, he doesn't even know why. It just never felt right for him. And as far as he can remember, he always did everything he could to hide his face whenever his lips would turn up. He thought he was doing it well.

However, he came to realise that he was horrible at hiding his smile. At least he was when it came to you. You had a lot of pictures, maybe up to a hundred, of him. Most of them were blurry and spontaneous. He didn't even know you were taking a picture of him for the majority of the time. Maybe that's why he never covered his smile in the photographs you had of him.

As your wallpaper, as a Polaroid, framed near your bed... There was always a picture where he was smiling carefree. And he looked beautiful in all of those.

You most likely didn't even realise how this little gesture of yours made him like his smile more and more, but you were glad when, after a few months, he stopped putting his hands in front of his mouth whenever a laugh erupted from his lips.

I.N - hyping him up

After living in such a competitive environment for years, Jeongin thinks he should be used to the music industry now. He can tolerate the overworking, he knows how to control the media, he loves his fans and job. Everything is fine. Still, there's always that one part of his mind saying he's incompetent at the job. Saying that becoming an idol was the wrong move.

These days he usually locks himself in the studio or in the dance room and refuses to get out of there until he feels like he deserves it, until he feels like he's good again. But then again, it feels like this time never comes.

That's when you have a vital role in his life. You're the living proof that he's actually doing a good job. And the funny thing is that you have never said it, not even once. But he still knows it. He knows when YouTube recommends you another fancam of him, because apparently you like his dancing and stage presence that much. He knows when you always applause him after a dancing session and when you playfully beg him to sing you a song, and the huge smile on your face when he finally does.

It's almost as if you are his biggest fan. At this point, you might be. And funnily enough, you are the "fan" that is motivating him to keep going. If he managed to make you like his work that much, he must be doing something right after all.

Masterlist | you'll probably like: when your parents don't like them

Thank you for reading <3

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143

Credit for images 1 2 and 3

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

never not mine | jjk | "i hear..."

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

Bygones will be bygone eras, fading into grey. Breaking up with Jeon Jungkook had been a vicious, clean break. He tried to take it back, but the damage was already done. You walked out of the world you didn't belong in, at least until Kim Taehyung calls your name.

this is part i | part ii | part iii

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of controlling behaviors in a romantic relationship; reader is emotionally distant after said breakup; second chance romance?; angst and fluff and feels; your POV

non-idol!AU; fashion model!Jungkook — ft fellow model/actor!Kim Taehyung and model/businessman!Kim Seokjin; and a certain Maestro cameo; reader is not part of the entertainment industry

--

“Please love me again.”

You could hear him saying it but you pretended not to hear. You pretended not to know. You pretended he wasn’t there. He was persona non grata. No, he was simply another blurry face amongst many that faded into the grey background of grey days. He was only a ghost. If he happened to be in the same place as you were, it wasn’t any of your damn business. People were allowed to be wherever they wanted to be.

“I’m sorry.”

Yes, he was.

Sorry that he couldn’t walk all over you like he wanted. Sorry that he couldn’t control you on that leash like he wanted. Sorry that you had the balls to cut all ties and not put up with his selfish bullshit anymore. Sorry. What a word. Your response had not been a vindictive one, though. You hadn’t blocked him on social media. You figured he would block you himself. The last moments were him berating you for being late, what if something happened to you, I was worried, and you snapping. It had taken every fiber of your being to not fling your clutch in his face and tell him to take himself out if he cared so much.

“I understand what you meant now.”

The first couple times he attempted to speak to you after it all, you were ice-cold furious. So angry that you simply refused to speak to avoid spitting literal fire. So, you didn’t. And then it became a habit. Then you stopped caring. You stopped feeling. You lived your life.

Alone.

Like an abandoned puppy, Jeon Jungkook followed you every chance he got, but there were less and less chances as time went on. You would walk past him. He would follow until it was definitely too creepy and simply stop, staring after you with a lost look in his empty eyes. Everyone could see the broken heart in his stare.

A lot of people asked you what happened.

It was a valid question.

It was just as valid for you to not answer.

“I’m not going to talk about that. We can talk about something else.”

You avoided people who couldn’t let it go or cut them out altogether. What was the point of shit-talking, taking sides, making yourself angry over things that couldn’t be changed? What was the point of being upset over nights that couldn’t be taken back? Over phone calls and you sitting alone in a restaurant, empty chair in front of you and the reason in your hand, an opportunity came up, I’m leaving for Los Angeles in the morning, I need to pack, bye. Over trips suddenly cut short in the middle, the agency called, another model got sick last minute so I gotta go, just stay here and have fun. By yourself. Over accusations, what are you doing right now, send a photo, now. Over doubts, are you really at the supermarket, I don’t know, you could be doing anything, I’m not there after all. Over being five minutes late because the taxi you had taken was driven by an older gentleman chatting away, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him to shut up simply because of a boy.

Five minutes.

“Where were you? You need to tell me if you’re late. What if something happened? I was worried.”

“The driver was talking to me.”

“And you couldn’t text that you were okay?”

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“Am I not your priority?” he had hissed.

Snap.

All those times, all those moments, okay, I understand, it’s fine, you can make it up to me later, they all came back to you in vivid recollections, and you had stared at Jeon Jungkook. All those people saying how lucky you must be having such a good-looking guy, an actual fashion model, must be so nice, and you only said nice things about him because it didn’t occur to you to complain, no, it would be silly to complain about someone you loved. That was part of loving someone, wasn’t it, being in love was putting up with these things and believing in their words. All those instances, prove what you’re doing, send a photo. Now. All that shit got you to this moment right here, right now, under this furious scrutiny, his dark brows furrowed, his pretty mouth twisted in a frown, his question ringing in your ears.

His accusation in which he had already deemed you guilty.

“The fuck you say to me?” you had growled softly.

Never once did you ask him what he was doing in the destination that he was at. Never once did you fault him for going out and having fun. Never once did you say anything about the multiple social posts of beaches and hotels and nightclubs and everyone scantily-clad, his arms around fellow models, pressed up against fabulous guys and glamorous girls. If he didn’t answer you for a couple days, you assumed it was due to long shoot days and combined jetlag making him crash. The very answer he gave you the first time you asked. You believed him then. There was no need to ask for confirmation over and over if you trusted him. And you did trust him.

Now, this.

“I was five minutes late. If I thought I would be later, I would have texted you,” you explained with emotionless calm. “At least I showed up. At least I didn’t make you sit down in the restaurant, wait around for an hour only to get a text that you aren’t coming. Not even a phone call anymore.”

You hadn’t raised your voice.

He had looked taken aback.

“But… I thought you would understand.”

“Of course, I understand.” The seething anger was white-hot but your tone was crystal-clear cold. “I can understand, as long as you show me some grace and appreciation for not losing my shit every time it happens. Am I not your priority? When have I ever been yours?”

He tried to answer quickly. “You’re always–”

But you were already pulling up the rideshare app, calling another car to come pick you up. “Am I? Then why accuse me the second I get out of the car? Where was I? In the taxi. You saw me get out of it. Why are you holding five minutes over my head like a death sentence, as if I surely betrayed you in those extra five minutes? If it’s you it could be five, thirty, hours, but I have to understand you are networking. I have to understand you are being personable. I have to understand that you are practicing being friendly because it doesn’t come naturally to you.”

Jungkook simply gawked at you, wide-eyed.

You narrowed your eyes, creating a distance he could no longer cross.

“Am I just here so you have someone to visit when you’re bored? Someone to fuck?”

Maybe the vulgarity was taking it too far. Maybe saying all of this in public right now was in poor taste. His jarring question rang in your head. Am I not your priority? Maybe you were wrong to say it all now, but it was the way he said it, as if your love for him had become invalid once you were five minutes late to the appointed time for this date that you didn’t know whether or not he would abandon you in the middle of or take you home and rock your world – and you realized you didn’t care what the outcome was.

You just didn’t give a fuck anymore.

There were so many things he could have done. He could break up with you if his career was more important. He could say sorry more. He could find ways to make it up to you. He could, but he didn’t, and you understood. But this. This you could not understand. This he could not do.

No.

This you would not let him do.

If this was innocent concern, he made it worse by coming off as suffocating and hovering. Now, you realized that no excuse would have been good enough to convince him otherwise. He had already made up his mind to attack you the second you walked out of that car, delivering in the fatal blow instantly. All those moments. All those times had become hair-thin cracks, marring the bond between you and him, tiny little slices to kill the relationship and your will to be in it.

“I don’t think…”

He trailed off, not completing his thought.

The car pulled up.

This was surely the meaning of quiet treason.

“No, you don’t,” you had finished for him with icy agreement. “You expect. You expect me to be here and hold your hand when you want it, and now I know you will never ask me if I ever need my hand held.”

You had stepped away from the curb, not once raising your voice, no longer looking at him, your knuckles digging into your beaded black clutch. You expected it to hurt at least a little.

It was nothing compared to this death by a thousand cuts.

“W-Wait!”

You didn’t.

You had opened the car door and closed it quickly. The driver  requested you to confirm your name. You tersely nodded. They didn’t ask any further questions even as you witnessed Jungkook’s shocked face in the side mirror as the vehicle drove away. You didn’t look back. You didn’t even cry. Maybe you should have given him a chance to say something. A chance to change.

Except you had.

This wasn’t the first time that you had this conversation, although the first time was you sitting him down and saying, hey, if you’re not sure about your schedule, let’s not arrange any dates around those days. We can go out when things settle down. The answer was agreement and all was well for a couple weeks. And then it would happen again. And then you would bring it up again. Whoops. And again.Then he would ask you what you were doing when he wasn’t there. Oh, really? Send pictures.You asking, this is a bit much, isn’t it? The answer being, I want to know you’re safe. You finally admitting that it drove you a bit crazy. Him laughing and saying he was a bit of a handful, brushing away your concerns in light of his own.

Five minutes.

Am I not your priority?

The anger had nowhere to go.

Like how summer turned into fall and then into winter, the anger grew cold and dense and concentrated. A stone. Then one day you turned it over and found nothing underneath. You stopped caring. On one hand, you could have been the bigger person and reached out. On another hand, you didn’t see the reason in wasting any more time. What good was closure? What good would it do, talking it out and getting the same result? Deserve this, deserve that. Fair or not, at the end of the day, it didn’t work and there was no forcing something if neither party wanted to really try. I understand, until you couldn’t anymore.

Now.

Now, you would sit alone at restaurants and not be disappointed.

Table for one, yes, thank you.

Now you would spend hours at the games store and no one would be asking you to take pictures and prove that you were there. He used to play video games too, but he gradually fell out of them. Busy. Felt like he couldn’t keep up. Sold his PC because he was never home.

Emptiness where he had once enjoyed spending that time with you.

You would stay at the music store for a long time, looking over albums and wondering if you should buy them. It had been such a long time. You never listened to CDs anymore although you had been obsessed with music as a kid. The past felt like a different time. Memories of a clunky CD player and wired headphones with the metal arch over your head and those spongey earcups. Now you had wireless earbuds and a phone. Still, you looked over the colorful albums and wondered if you should get one, just to have it or maybe even put it on display. He used to listen to a lot of music too. Probably still did, on planes and in cars. He used to share your taste.

Now you didn’t have to share anything.

You stuck with your favorites, still, for years. It was an ever-growing list of popular artists as well as lesser-known indie artists that you never forgot. You made sure to listen to the top hits as well since those songs were popular for a reason. The occasional earworm could lead you down a pleasant rabbit hole, too.

You picked up an album of a band you liked but had never owned and went home.

Got that dopamine unboxing it and smiling at the photocards. Looked through the extras with the album on repeat playing through your Bluetooth speaker. You didn’t do these kinds of things in front of Jungkook usually. You had always prioritized engaging with him. Listening to his stories, looking at the photos of places he had been, shaking your head at the long hours or difficult call times. Every moment precious because you would never know when it would be cut short.

You had made everything about him when in his presence.

You hadn’t blasted the relationship all over social media although it was obvious. For the most part, people had been respectful. You hadn’t deleted all the photos he was in, the photos he had taken of you, nor had you blocked him. People asked. You repeated the same thing over and over. I’m not going to talk about that. We can talk about something else. People eventually stopped asking. Old news was old news. There was no visible resentment, and so the interest died out.

You caught Jungkook looking at you from across the concessions stand at the movie theater.

Those big dark brown eyes filled with rueful invitation.

You didn’t know what movie he was going into, but you turned away and didn’t think about it much.

Watched the movie you paid for, alone.

Went home.

Alone.

You used to watch movies twice. Once by yourself when it released, then a second time when Jungkook could make it. When he could. Sometimes he couldn’t and the movie was already out of theaters. Then you both would watch it at home when it released on streaming services. It was what it was. You enjoyed movies. You had the time and money to watch them twice. But now you didn’t have to.

That was nice.

You weren’t sure if Jungkook was deliberately going places that you often frequented or if it was coincidence. It was likely the latter, because he usually wasn’t alone. He had a group of friends that lived in this area and often came to visit them. He used to joke that it must have been fate for you to meet as your friend circles didn’t overlap. At least he had not shown up to the video games store or the music store you usually went to, so you didn’t feel threatened in any way. Maybe he was visiting his friends more because he was sad. Maybe he was visiting them more in hopes of seeing you, the same tactic he used when he first asked you out. Maybe it was both.

It was probably both.

Sometimes you would cry in frustration.

Sometimes you would play games to distract yourself.

Sometimes you didn’t mind too much as the days passed. Sometimes you would look outside and admire the sun. Sometimes it would rain and that was nice too. Sometimes you were sad but it wasn’t a negative feeling. Such was the natural course. Sadness was the promise of happiness to come, because one couldn’t exist without the other.

At least, you believed so.

Ther wasn’t much more you could do than that.

For a bit there you had almost thought the relationship hadn’t mattered because you had walked away so coldly. In some ways, you wished you could take it back. In other ways, you didn’t. It was hard to discount years of your life simply because of how the chapter ended. There had definitely been unique experiences that you were unlikely to relive. You used to attend lavish parties with Jungkook, especially many around the holidays. You would dress up in your best and put on a brave face. A lovely dress, the high heels he brought you, carefully done makeup and hair. Jungkook would walk in with you gliding beside him, silently holding his arm. People would tell you how fun it was working with him and how lucky he was to have such a pretty and understanding lady. These were all work events full of unfamiliar faces. Jungkook used to be reserved and hang out with you in corners but, as he got more popular, more people roped him into conversations, remember this, and he would slip in with his friends, naturally, laughing and smiling. You would wait nearby, at yet another party surrounded by better bodies, and somehow he would find you at the end of the night, ask you if you had fun.

And you would smile and assure him.

“Something like that.”

The best parties were the ones thrown by his friend Kim Taehyung. He had been in the entertainment industry for a long time, becoming Jungkook’s friend though their crossed paths in modeling. He had an affliction for celebration and Jungkook was always invited, which meant you, too, bore witness to many magnificent events hosted by him. The most extravagant were his own birthday parties. Quite so, as the date was after Christmas, and he continued the festive mood. Taehyung loved a theme. He would rent specific venues, arrange for live music, impose a dress code, everything. One year, he flew everyone out to Paris and rented an entire restaurant to celebrate. Even if you barely knew anyone there, it was fun being in a different world created by Taehyung’s magical vision. Everyone was thrown into it together, experiencing the vibes of an old American jazz club, the white beaches with glass waters during Christmastime, or a playful night filled with Taehyung’s favorite childhood games and sweet treats, complete with food stalls from the area of Daegu he grew up in.

You didn’t fit in, but no one did because these were all Taehyung’s fantasies brought to life.

He always sent the invitations by physical mail, on stunning stationery to match the theme. Someone else must have created them, but seemingly Taehyung approved them all as every single one contained his unique flourishing signature. You kept them in a box. They were too pretty to throw away.

You had received an invitation this year too, to a midnight masquerade ball, but you didn’t go.

Perhaps he didn’t know yet. Or, perhaps he did know and Jungkook asked him to invite you. They were quite close. If there was a plan, you didn’t take the bait. The date came and went. Maybe Taehyung considered you a friend, but that was probably a stretch. Jungkook didn’t like you talking to Taehyung too much.

Apparently, you made him smile too big.

Or something.

Taehyung had an entire party to get to every time you met him, anyway. You would have to shoo him off because there was very little night and Taehyung wanted to speak to every guest one-on-one. He was sincere like that. He was romantic like that. He was dark and handsome and in his own head, in his constant dream of living his wonderful life that, from what you could discern, he deserved. He even always remembered to ask the staff working at his party to eat cake with them. At the end of the night, Taehyung would pick up the microphone and thank the guests for coming and thank the staff for working hard to provide everyone with a good time. Taehyung always remembered to say thank you and he always made sure to express his gratitude to everyone, no matter their status.

You missed being at his party, a little bit, if only just to witness a fairy-tale in real life.

But you weren’t part of Jeon Jungkook’s world anymore.

And so you missed the party.

Please love me again.

On quiet, grey days, you realized how very boring your life was. On quiet, grey days, you were tempted to think about the good times. About his laugh, about his starry eyes when you came into view, about enchanted nights where you would both make magic between bodies. On quiet, grey days, you were tempted to pick out all his flaws until the memories were burned, images stricken with ash, never to be the same again. On quiet, grey days, you had every chance to run back or run away, at least in your head, but instead you lived your very boring life doing neither of those choices.

Whether you loved him or hated him, the result would still be the same.

You entered the artisan tea shop and greeted the staff. You talked about how your father was into tea, chatted about what would make a good gift. The prices of the sets. The amount of loose-leaf tea and how many cups it would make. The various flavors and strength. You smelled a bunch of different ones. Rejected some, remained indecisive about others, accepted a few as contenders.

You heard the bell by the door chime again, musical and clear.

A male’s voice, deep and polite.

You tensed. Your body knew before your mind caught up. You pointed to several flavors you had liked, and the employee suggested a gift box sampler featuring a watercolor camellia-printed limited-edition teacup set that you agreed to readily, all the while vaguely aware of a tingling behind your neck and a vigilant tension forming in your lungs. But it wasn’t until your name was called that you turned around by instinct, and then froze with recognition. Dark brown eyes under graceful black-brown waves. Tan skin glimmering under the lights. The image completed by a three-piece chocolate brown suit paired with a ruffled warm gray dress shirt and sharp dark leather oxfords. The stylish man smiled widely, box-like, and walked towards you without hesitation.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Kim Taehyung must have known, and yet.

You bowed lightly. “Hello.”

The sales associate was immediately charmed by Taehyung’s deep voice and dashing appearance, their gloved hands hovering over the half-packed box and openly ogling the demandingly handsome gentleman that took your hand warmly before lightly kissing your knuckles. Straight out of a movie. Probably learned it from one, or from traveling in Europe. He let go after a lingering moment.

He had said your name with the same velvety warmth he had at all of his parties.

It had hurt, but it wasn’t his fault.

“How are you? I haven’t seen you in a while. Are you buying something?” He raised his head and daintily smiled at the employee before giving you his full attention again. “Let me pay for it.”

“No, ah,” you interrupted him quickly, handing over your card before Taehyung could reach into his heavily lined pockets. “No, sorry. I’m buying a gift for my father.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he apologized immediately, retracting his hands. “I meant to do something nice for you and I’ve overstepped.”

“It’s… It’s alright,” you chuckled softly, trying to dissipate the awkwardness. You turned slightly to sign the receipt, not looking at the price. Your card went back into your black leather bow purse. “You had no way of knowing. How are you? And your parents?”

Taehyung was still a little sheepish but he remained next to you at a respectful distance. “Me? I guess you could say I’m holding on. I think I might take a small break soon and spend a week with my family. How did you know I was thinking of them?” He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re a mind-reader.”

You shook your head with a smile, taking the beautifully wrapped bag and bowing in gratitude to the employee. “No, you’ve just never been a big tea drinker. It was only a guess.”

He scratched the back of his head and sighed lightheartedly. “Ah, you’re right. I wanted to buy a grown-up gift, but maybe I should have asked what they wanted. I don’t know the first thing about tea.”

You both began to walk towards the entrance.

“You’re their adorable child. They will love anything you gift them.”

Taehyung grinned. “So, you think I’m adorable?”

You opened your mouth and then.

Then you were suddenly hyperaware of the brightness of the lights in the tea store. Suddenly aware of all the customers around you milling about and chatting with their friends and the employees. Suddenly the scents of the store were too strong and too varied and suddenly a phantom grip on your arm from a time long past pulled you away from your center, into the past, and you remembered all the times you stood in a corner of a party, on the outskirts of alcohol, music, and magic, wondering why you were so, so alone.

You plastered a smile on your face and replied pleasantly.

“Of course, you are, Kim Taehyung.”

It lasted a second.

Maybe less.

Taehyung gazed at you with curious eyes.

You kept the smile on your face.

He stepped past you and opened the door, gesturing you to walk out before him in the most gentlemanly way, smiling with his eyes crinkling as they usually did when he laughed or was in his comfort zone. “Come. Let me at least treat you to lunch,” he insisted.

You accepted his graciousness and turned as you walked to face him as you spoke. “That’s really not necessary. I’m sure you’re very busy.”

He chuckled, the sound coming deep from his chest. “Of course, I’m busy, but I always have time for a friend.” He shrugged nonchalantly, grinning. “My manager expects this kind of behavior from me anyway.”

You paused, looking up at him. “Friend?”

Flutters of lashes and confusion in dark brown orbs.

“Are we not friends?”

People around you continued walking, giving you and Taehyung weird looks. He didn’t seem to notice, undeterred by the world around him that wasn’t currently in his focus, the main character at every moment in his life, oblivious to anyone trying to get under his skin with their judgements, never the accessory to someone else.

It turned out to be more difficult than you thought, saying the words.

“I… well… Don’t you know that Jeon Jungkook and I aren’t dating anymore?”

Taehyung tilted his head with childlike innocence.

“Um… so you don’t eat lunch anymore?”

You blinked at him.

“Huh?”

He gave you this look. You stared back. For a moment the disconnect was so tangible that you almost had a word for it. A zephyr ruffled Taehyung’s soft curls. The sun made his skin glow and his dark eyes sparkle. Small signs of Mother Nature affectionately acknowledging one of her children. He smiled. It was then that you realized this was a decision you could make. A decision of a lonely self, not a lonely self that was an extension of another. A yes or no that didn’t have to be polluted by the past.

“Well…”

Your hands tightened on the straps of the gift bag.

“If you’ll have me.”

Taehyung grinned. “I know just the spot! You’ll love it.”

-

It was nice lunch.

No, it was wonderful time.

You had been worried that you would be underdressed in your calf-length flowy black dress and chunky knit lavender cardigan, but you fit right in. Taehyung had picked a busy rooftop brunch spot. It was French-themed, or at least as French as Korea could get. There was a bit more wood than brass and crystals. It still made for a nice hideaway. It seemed Taehyung was well recognized here, and yet people maintained a distance regardless. It must have been his polite yet stern demeanor. When he sat down though, he seemed to relax, waving a hand and telling you to order whatever you liked.

You never could turn down good brioche.

You thought it would have been awkward, at least. It wasn’t. He talked about his work, asked about yours. Asked what you thought about this or that. Memories from past events, what you liked or didn’t like. What he paid too much for that nobody noticed, along with a hearty laugh, and moments he loved, such as having a group photo at every one of his events. You asked him if he enjoyed planning the events themselves. He confessed with a roughish smile that he had a planner for all those details. You thought it strange to spend so much money on such occasions, but there was something pure about it too. Besides, you ended up getting your answer.

“What’s the most important lesson in your life you’ve learned so far?” Taehyung abruptly asked, sitting up in alarm.

You blinked at his suddenness. “Uh… I don’t know. I would have to think about it.” Your lips upturned slightly, then you tilted your head and looked back at him. “What about you? What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned in your life so far?”

He relaxed back in his chair. His expression became pensive. You paused in mid-bite, seeing him look a bit sheepish.

“You’re not the first person to ask me about the parties,” Taehyung chuckled deep from his chest. “A lot of people tell me it’s a waste of money. And it is to other people, but it isn’t to me. The most important lesson I’ve ever learned was…”

He raised his head with a small smile.

“You can’t get time back.”

You remembered the extensive decor, the delicate hors d'oeuvres, even the various perfumes sprayed into the air complimenting the theme of each party. Exquisite and memorable details. Taehyung ticked his head, seemingly recalling it all too.

“I think I’ve mentioned this, but my grandmother was the closest maternal figure I had,” he explained, fondly smiling. “I’m close to my parents too, but they had to work a lot to give me a good life, so I spent a lot of time with my siblings and grandparents. My grandmother used to hold celebrations for the achievements I had, even if they were mediocre or not that impressive. Nothing extravagant, or anything. A little cake or my favorite sweets. She would sing for me and clap her hands. She would say, it’s my duty to give you good memories. As I got older, I became busy, of course, chasing dreams, and I didn’t make time for her small celebrations any more. I was just out of university when she passed away. I often think I hadn’t spent enough time with her. Time is money, as they say. Next time, I would say, until there wasn’t a next time.”

The weight of his words settled on the table.

“It’s not your fault,” you reminded him, but Taehyung simply smiled and shook his head.

“It wasn’t anybody’s fault,” he agreed. “But that wasn’t it. I couldn’t get all that time back. Sure, did I take jobs that put me in a really good place now? Yeah. Yeah, of course, I make a lot of money now since young me jumped at every chance to model for a small brand or do a single-run commercial. I really love my career. I love that, because I did the hard work, I even get offers to act in primetime dramas now. But I should have made less. I should have made time. I should have gone to see her and let her do her duty to give me good memories.”

He waved his hands in a slight shrug. You could tell he was still regretful about it, but there was something else too. He looked directly at you with that boxy grin of his.

“I decided, then, that I too wanted to give good memories to the people that are precious to me. I have all this money, anyway. Why waste it on things? I want to waste it on memories. I want people to look forward to special days, to celebrate life, to look back on a fun time.”

So that was why.

“That is what is really important to me.”

Kim Taehyung wasn’t only good looks, of course.

“I’ve yapped long enough. What is really important to you?” he asked again, chuckling.

“Oh, I…”

And there were no words.

You straightened, startled by your own silence. There were lots of important things, weren’t there? There was… and there wasn’t. Friends, sure. And, also, friends came in and out of your life. You didn’t take it personally. Family, yes. Cordial but not deep. They had their own lives to live. You almost opened your mouth to say these generic things, and then you caught the look in Taehyung’s eye and stopped.

This basic question was not so basic after all.

“I… Am I boring?” you blurted with a start.

“Boring?” Taehyung frowned. “No, you’re not.”

Your brows furrowed. “Aren’t I?”

He laughed, hearty and deep. “Trust me. You’re not boring. We wouldn’t be having a conversation if you were boring.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why are we having a conversation?”

Taehyung smiled warmly.

“Because I appreciate your outlook on life.”

You were taken aback.

“What?”

He nodded. “Isn’t it obvious?” He waved a hand carelessly. “I’ve met so many people doing what I do. Some people are just nice to you because of money. Or think you can boost their reputation. Or they think they can take advantage of you. You’ve been around all that too, no?” He did not mention Jungkook.

“Oh, well…” you hesitated. “Not anymore. I’m pretty ordinary.”

A small frown. “No, everyone is extraordinary.”

You scoffed. “I’m only an accountant. Not even one that works closely with my own clients – I’m just the one at the firm that does the final review over everyone’s work to make sure we don’t get into legal trouble. That’s nothing like what you do.”

He impatiently swept your words away. “Everyone is extraordinary,” he repeated.

“I don’t think–”

“You are different,” Taehyung pressed. “You had been introduced to a different world than your own and you could have been a vulture. You could have taken for your own sake. You could have done everything you could to be ‘one of us’. You could have scorned us too, called it all superficial and stupid. But you didn’t.” He crossed his arms to make his point. “You observed. You listened. You treated me, the people around me, everyone as their own person. We weren’t just some dumb rich people to you. We were individuals.”

You didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t something you had ever consciously thought about before.

“There are so many people that believe in using others, either in a beneficial way or in a cruel way,” sighed Taehyung. “It’s a difficult world. We all need to live.” He reached over and made you jump by placing his hand over the back of yours. “Don’t give up on that, okay?”

Your stared at him with wide eyes. “On… what?”

Almost. You didn’t quite have an answer for the most important lesson in your life you had learned so far. But almost. Kim Taehyung cocooned his palm over your hand and trapped you with his determined brown eyes, straight from a drama scene. A heavenly prince in a fancy café. He looked back to you very seriously, taking all of your attention away from the whispering conversations on other tables, away from the clinking plates and glasses, away from all distractions.

“Don’t give up on the way you want to live.”

Those small moments.

From eating dinner alone to watching movies alone to buying that album and unboxing it yourself to looking outside, days and nights, wondering what could have been and killing that thought over and over again.

“The way… I want to live?” you echoed breathlessly.

The clear, musical chime of the bell by the entrance sang through the air, mingling with the conversation and consumption. A halo of sound that rang true over every table to reach every customer. It was as striking as it was lovely, flawlessly melding into the moment. A pure sound that could trigger a pleasant déjà vu, the recall of a good chat over good food.

Taehyung grinned with his beautiful, perfectly white teeth.

“I want you to have good memories. Whatever you decide, let us make good memories with those precious to us.”

You decided, then and there, that you needed to start doing things.

-

“Oh, good, you’re home. That would have been awfully embarrassing.”

“W-What…?”

You backed up in your slippers as a stunningly well-dressed man flourished into your home like an astronaut landing on the moon. That was, if the moon was your front door. The black mat was space-themed, printed with abstract stars and a grayish circle. It wasn’t entirely inaccurate. Your pajamas were also soft black cotton with a twinkly star print, although your slippers were simple, white furry poofs that felt like walking on clouds.

“Take this.”

“What is – oof!”

In contrast to your outfit, the man who had entered your home looked like he had stepped off the runway. He wore light blue trousers that you almost mistook for jeans, however they had a tone-on-tone print that clearly indicated the luxury designer. Underneath the navy-blue duster coat was a crisp white shirt pressed to the gods with distinctive sky-blue trim. A quick glimpse and anyone would know the inner lining of the duster was blue silk, the matching tone-on-tone print subtle and obvious at the same time. You nearly buckled under the weight of a wooden box, gasping as you saw the slices of high-grade beef in a gold bow. The man gestured with his hand in a swooping manner.

“I heard all about it from Taehyung,” he was saying, shrugging his broad shoulders heavily.

“Heard…?” You were still reeling from the unexpected guest and a box of meat. “What’s this, I can’t accept th–”

The man shot you a scathing look. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he chided, dismissive. “How unbelievably rude I would be dropping by your home if I didn’t have a gift? Psh, why, I wouldn’t be Kim Seokjin!”

And so he was.

Although, as far as you knew, you and famous-actor-turned-businessman Kim Seokjin were not close friends. Not close enough to be gifted with a house call and meat, anyway. He had been close to Jeon Jungkook back then. They often sought each other out when they both attended the same events. You were well aquatinted with Seokjin’s boisterous personality and his worldwide-known handsomeness. He was no different today, looking sculpted from jawline to broad shoulders to the regal way he stood. Glowing skin. Lightly permed, chestnut brown hair. Full lips, currently in a slight frown.

You bowed awkwardly. “S-Sorry, I just didn’t expect…”

“Ah, it’s alright.” He called you by name, although somewhat awkwardly, as if he was unsure if he should be more formal or not. “I won’t take too much of your time.”

You were still confused about Seokjin saying he had heard something from Taehyung. Actually, you didn’t even know how he got your address, although it wasn’t impossible. After all, Taehyung’s party invitations came in snail mail. It wasn’t that shocking. You probably might have been more annoyed if you were in the middle of something, but all you had been doing was getting ready to heat up some leftover takeout. You shuffled slightly, trying to block the view of the kitchen counter. Not necessarily embarrassed, per se, as your apartment was quite spacious and neat, but nothing here was comparable to Kim Seokjin’s lifestyle. It was kind of pointless to do so, though, since Seokjin was quite tall.

He seemed not to notice or care about the current state of your kitchen.

You stood there, dazed, clutching a box of high-grade beef.

He cleared his throat very firmly. “I came to invite you to the opening of my new establishment. Two weeks from now.” He rattled off the opening date. “But don’t come on opening day. It’ll be too crowded. Some day after. Let me know when and I’ll make special arrangements for you,” he added, stepping forward to tuck his business card into one of the folds of the gold bow. “Call the number on there. My assistant will connect me to you. I can link you with talented professionals if you are interested, which I’ll pay for, of course.”

“I– What – I’m sorry?” you sputtered. “Me?”

The handsome man exaggeratedly whipped his head from side to side. “Uh, do I see anyone else? Yes, of course, you,” he affirmed gruffly. “I came to invite you in person.”

“Well…” This must be how deer felt when confronted with headlights. “I’m not trying to be rude, but, uh… why?”

Seokjin looked offended. “Why? So you can meet people, silly.”

You struggled to connect the information given to you but he was not making it easy. “Meet people?”

“Yes,” he tutted. “You want to meet people, don’t you?”

Did you? You gave him a confused look.

“As Taehyung said,” Seokjin continued as if you completely understood. “People like you need to be surrounded by good people. And I happen to know a lot of them. We need people like you in this industry.”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t have any intention of–”

“Precisely.” He barreled on as if your front entryway was his own stage. “That is precisely why.”

Silence.

A bird cawed outside.

“H… Hah?”

Something in his expression softened. You almost forgot the weight of the wood box in your hands. You almost forgot the ridiculousness of you in your pajamas and Kim Seokjin in his luxury designer clothes. You almost forgot that you were in a completely different class, completely out of your element, completely ordinary.

He sighed and slipped his hands into his pants pockets, neatly tucking back his coat. “Look, I understand if you absolutely don’t want to have anything to do with me and the others. I don’t blame you. But,” he added, nodding lightly. “Your presence is missed. I do believe your interactions with those around you have done them a world of good. Maybe not everyone, yes, but you’re still spoken of, even now.”

“What…?” You blinked, doubtful. “Really?”

Seokjin chuckled, nodding. “You are good company.”

You thought all those times. All those events, dinners, parties. You mostly remembered Jungkook letting you be. Sure, you had light conversation with those around you. You couldn’t remember all their faces. They had been simple conversations, you thought, but they weren’t superficial once you really thought about it. You didn’t have basic industry chatter to talk about, so instead you had asked about aspirations. Asked why instead of what. Why acting? Why modeling? Why entertainment? Talks of the past, the present, the future. Pretty normal, you thought, but maybe…

Maybe it was more normal to ask what they were achieving.

Maybe it wasn’t so normal to ask who someone was.

“Anyway,” Seokjin coughed, breaking you out of your daze. “I wanted to give you ample time to think about it.”

“More than two weeks?” you mused.

He waved a hand. “Don’t know about you, but I need time to schedule and plan things. I need time to get myself ready to interact,” he muttered, half-joking and half-bitterly.

The meat was getting heavy. “Ah… What’s the dress code?”

“Aish, didn’t I tell you?” Seokjin tapped the side of his head. “Think about it. Then give me a call, and I’ll arrange for hair and makeup and fashion. No, don’t even bother asking about price. I’m inviting you to introduce you to people, so I am paying. End of discussion. And…”

A loaded pause.

Tick of the head and Seokjin very seriously asked you.

“If Jeon Jungkook is there, will you be fine?”

You answered honestly.

“I don’t think it will be an issue.”

He surveyed you for a long second and then nodded.

“Alright. Let me know when you’ve decided. Have a nice night. Don’t hesitate to contact me if I can help in some way. I’m not a stranger. By the way.” He added one last comment before leaving, spinning back around with a hand on your now open door and the other pointing to the side of the box. “The butcher shop I purchased this from is owned by a friend of mine. Make sure to send your family and friends his way once you taste how delicious and high-quality it is.”

-

You walked into the nightclub, oddly at peace among the blaring music and bustling bodies, stepping into a world of light and dark and pushing boundaries.

The past couple hours had been spent in a chair, fussed over by a detailed makeup artist and equally talented hairdresser. It had been more enjoyable than you originally thought. Perhaps it had been Seokjin’s excellent choices or their own expertise. They even both asked for your input and offered their advice. It felt like a joint effort. Even the fashion stylist who came later was as informative as they were considerate. You had found out that they had taken your name and your photos to have your fortune read and performed color analysis, respectively. That explained why Seokjin had asked you to take those plain photos. This had made color and style selection much simpler, as you naturally liked all the choices. You were no stranger to tight outfits, although this type of nightlife was not the kind of place you frequented. The stylist had brought a rack of choices, and just in case, a black slip dress looks good on everyone, and all of them were compelling in one way or another. All nightclub appropriate. You asked what to try first. The stylist had asked you how you were feeling.

Feeling?

The answer came out before you could stop it.

“Like revenge.”

You had laughed it off, and so had the staff, but you had seen the gleam in their eyes as if they, too, relished in being part of this so-called revenge.

Well, they were.

You weren’t perfectly sure if this was actual revenge yet, no. You were certainly dressed for it. Black lace corset. Tight lilac short skirt. Black patent leather jacket cropped so severely that it was nearly a bolero. Delicate black pumps with a thin ankle strap. The kind that was a bit fiddly to get on, but was worth it in the end. There was a power in this type of outfit, the kind that made you hold your head high and walk alone with confidence. Perhaps similar to a superhero costume. Just as impractical, too, heh. But that was okay. You weren’t here to prevent any crimes.

Just commit them.

Maybe.

In any case, you weren’t even sure what was going to happen tonight. Something had been planned for you, so you walked in and looked around, wondering if you should ask for help. The luxury was obvious from every corner of the building. From the furniture choices to the expansive bar to the crisp, pressed uniforms of the employees, every detail oozed sophistication. You admired the tastefulness of it, surprised that it didn’t feel gaudy or overdone. Must be the refined touch of Kim Seokjin. Even the clientele was jaw-dropping. You spared a moment to look from face to face, wondering if you should be less obvious about it, but then some paused and gazed back, unafraid, offering a simple smile.

They didn’t know you didn’t really belong, yet.

The sheep’s clothing worked, then.

You almost laughed at your own unspoken joke, and then, either compelled by fate, chance, or some mixture of both, your eyes rose and you saw him. It was definitely him. It was only the back of his head and black leather, but you knew it was him even before he turned around.

Jeon Jungkook.

You had seen him many times after the fact. However, this time was the first time that you came with weapons at your disposal, subtle as they were. For a moment, you wondered what to do. You stared as those brooding dark eyes widened in surprise. His hair was slicked back. Leather jacket, white tank, dark jeans, probably black boots. You couldn’t see it all from this angle. Still, you knew him too well. He wasn’t a suit-and-tie breed unless he was forced by the occasion. And, anyway.

You had mildly hoped that he would dress down these days, as it both suited him and reflected your preferred personal taste.

Egotistical, yes, and, now that you could see, true.

You broke the gaze first, seeing a waiter approach you. Bowed lightly, walking with him as he explained what was in store tonight, and yet your mind was still fixated on that shocked gaze from the far table up above. It did register that you were going up the stairs too, but somehow you knew that you weren’t going near that table.

You wondered if he regretted everything.

You wondered if he saw you differently now, dressed up and on a mission.

You wondered if Jeon Jungkook understood, truly, how deeply he had hurt you with his misdemeanors and you wondered if you, truly, understood how you didn’t help by always sweeping said misdemeanors under the metaphorical rug. You wondered if there was a chance for reconciliation or if this was all a big mistake. Maybe this was only another instance of two ships silently passing in the night. A pair of parallel lines that would never intersect. Or… would this become a pattern that could only be completed by intersection?

Whichever one it was, it was going to be evident tonight.

You raised your head, seeing a champagne bottle and another of expensive liquor.

“Are you ready?”

Your eyes shifted and you smiled up at the waitress.

“Yes, I am.”

She smiled and bowed her way out. Revenge. You savored the word. You had never thought of it that way, but then again that was because you always believed in the higher road. In enduring. That was how strength was formed. Vindication was unladylike and uncouth. Or so the story goes. You became aware that you were being watched.

I don’t belong here.

You twisted your body and stared directly into Jeon Jungkook’s eyes.

He pivoted away immediately. Unable to hold your gaze. Ashamed, probably. You pondered quietly. He brought you into this. All this around you – beauty, opulence, and the shadows between gold. Even without him, your connection to these people remained because his friends believed in you for some reason. You agreed, because maybe there was still something here for you.

But that was no reason to believe that you belonged here nor to act like it.

You realized, suddenly, that some part of you still thought you had to keep up the front.

“Excuse me.”

You looked up to a man who had the expression of a pleased kitty cat. His eyes disappeared from his smile. Radiant, cream skin. Long, bleached-blond hair that was half-tied back from his face but still skimmed along his shoulders. He wore a suit and tie, perfectly tailored, and was noticeably shorter than nearly everyone here. Then again, almost everyone here was a model, in high heels, or both.

“Did I interrupt?” he asked lightly, his intonation hinting at a Busan dialect.

“Oh, no,” you answered with a shake of your head. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me to space out like that. Please, sit down.”

The man laughed behind his hand before pulling out the chair and sitting down. He had elegant fingers that reminded you of a pianist. “It was cute,” he commented, somewhat shyly, before turning away and clearing his throat. He faced you once again, composed now, and bowed in greeting, stating his name.

You hurriedly did the same.

“I hope I’m not thinking too highly of myself by sitting here with you.”

You shook your head. “No, no. I want this to be an open invitation.” You poured him a glass of liquor to start off the night. He had a noticeable presence. Not a towering one, rather, as someone who knew himself well. Still, you could sense an introverted soul. “Don’t feel too pressured. I only want to ask a question.”

His eyebrows raised, curious. “A question?”

You smiled. “Yes. And I want you to promise to answer honestly.”

His lips upturned thoughtfully. There was something playful about his expressions. Very cute. Perhaps unintentional. “A promise right away to a stranger?”

You allowed yourself a little mischief. “Do I look like I could hurt anyone?”

The man across the table caught the bait and toyed with it. An expert. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean It wouldn’t be pleasant.” He smiled again, with that same kitty cat contentment, and nodded. “Okay, I’m ready to tell the truth. You only get one chance. Use it well.” His tone teased, but his voice was sincere.

The question.

You stared into a stranger’s eyes and asked.

“What is the most important lesson in your life you’ve learned so far?”

-

i hear... | ... the whispers... | ... in your eyes.

--

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