#i don’t sleep much. but i’m sitting in the lobby of my dorm | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imnotjaesblog · 2 years ago

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What We Do in The Shadows

What We Do in The Shadows- Lee Taeyong Simple Summary- Two idols try to live a healthy life. This includes eating well, resting, and making friends and relationships. However, both will see the thrill of having a hidden romance is a lot more thrilling than they’d hope it be. Suggestive, Fluff & Angst.

Word Count: 17K

MINORS DO NOT READ!

This is a long one. After rehearsals for a comeback, I said goodbye to the dancers and left the building. I stepped onto the elevator my manager beside me. Once the elevator dinged I walked through the lobby of the entertainment building. My manager had walked me to the black Jeep that was parked just outside the building. Pulling a face mask over my face I walked outside waving to some fans that had waited probably all day to see me.

Sitting in the car I let out a sigh. Finally, rehearsals were done and I could go home. The days leading up to the video shoot were always stressful. Everyone was tight for time since my last comeback happened a month later than it should have. Unfortunately, I had gotten covid and couldn’t perform. This meant I had to work even harder to make sure this comeback would be perfect. I picked up my phone checking the time, one o’clock in the morning. I sigh shutting my eyes for a moment before my manager hands me my second phone.

“Post something on bubble,” he tells me handing me the phone. “Then give it back” I nod taking the phone from his hands pulling down my mask letting it rest under my chin. I hold the phone up taking a quick selfie. The flash shines on my face letting me know the phone was taken. I take multiple photos before my manager takes the phone picking the best one. He opens up the editing app on that phone and edits the picture in the slightest nothing too noticeable then he posts it.

Once I finally got home I stepped out of the car my manager walked me to my apartment. Once I stepped inside the lobby and to the elevator riding up my manager left and I was finally alone. I step inside taking off my shoes and placing my bag on a nearby rack. Taking off my coat is next and soon I let down my hair scratching the top of my head. “I should probably shower before I head to bed,” I say walking in the direction of the bathroom. I let the warm water slide down my face and wash all over my body. The heat feels good on my tight muscles. After a couple more minutes of letting the heat loosen up my body, I step out drying off and putting on some pajamas. Walking over to my bed I hear my phone go off. Picking it up I smile at the name that flashes across the screen.

Taeyong- Can I come over? You’re bed it’s more comfortable than the dorm. I smile biting my fingernail as I stare at his text.

Y/n- I’m getting ready to sleep, so don’t get too creative tonight. … Taeyong- All I wanted to do was sleep too. Why what did you have in mind? 😏

Y/n- Goodnight

Taeyong- Don’t be mad at me

Y/n- I’m not mad. I’m tired 😩

Taeyong- Then let me come sleep with you. I’m tired too :(

I sigh my fingers hesitant to text him back. I want him to come over but I have to wake up early tomorrow and I know he’s not gonna sleep. He’ll do something to keep me awake whether it’s talking my ear off or in between my legs. I sigh, but I could use the company. Sometimes this apartment gets too quiet.

Y/n- Okay. You can come over but seriously just sleeping okay.

Taeyong- Okay. Open the door.

My eyes widened looking in the direction of my bedroom door then back at my phone.

Y/n- That was fast

Taeyong- Yes now please come open the door before someone sees

Y/n- Okay Read

I throw my phone on my bed, put on my slippers, and walk outside my room. Walking over to my front door I slightly open it just enough for Taeyong to sneak inside. We could never be too careful regardless of how much security this place has. Someone, anyone could be watching and waiting to expose us. Shutting the door I don’t get to properly say hello to him until it’s shut and locked. He leans down and hugs me kissing my neck.

“I missed you,” he says whispering into my ears. I giggled moving us away from the door. “Bu I told you just sleep” he nodded moving closer to me allowing me to take in his scent, he always smelled amazing. Feeling him get closer to my neck I think he was taking in my scent too. He kissed my neck again. “Bu I’m serious,” I say pushing him off. “I need to sleep. I have a lot to do tomorrow” he nodded understandingly holding my waist. “Okay okay Let’s go to sleep. You need all you’re beauty rest” he said moving a piece of hair away from my forehead. He let his hand fall to the back of my head letting the pad of his thumb rub my cheek endearingly. I leaned into his warm touch. It always felt so right to be in his arms, but oh how it was so wrong that we were doing this.

If one person saw us, just one it would be enough to ruin our careers especially mine. Taeyong may be forgiven but it doesn’t matter to what point I’ve gotten to, the industry doesn’t take too kindly to women. I have to work as hard as I did to get to where I am to continue to be where I am now. And I know it’s not his fault that the industry is so flawed, but it’s just something I have to remember it’s what helps me be so mindful and careful about what we do and what we are. I don’t want to lose Taeyong, I can’t. As the days go by I fall more and more in love with him. Taeyong smiles staring into my eyes. I turn away guiding him to my bedroom. “Come on let’s sleep”

Next Morning

The sun peaked through my blinds. Turning away from the light I was faced with a still fast asleep Taeyong. Lightly touching his forehead and moving brown pieces of hair out of the way I smiled. I pulled my hand back as he stirred in his sleep. The minutes between waking up and just before starting the day are always the best. It’s so peaceful at this time. Letting the sun creep through the blinds. The birds chirping outside and Taeyong was right beside me. Nothing could be more perfect than this. But like every morning, it’s short-lived. My alarm goes off causing Taeyong to wake up. I lean over shutting it off. “What time is it?” He asks rubbing his eyes. “Five in the morning” I respond yawning. He nods getting up from the bed and going to the bathroom. I gather some things and then follow behind him in the bathroom once I hear the water turn on.

As I brush my teeth my eyes follow the outline of the shower. It’s not a clear picture but I can see the outline of Taeyong’s body through the glass. My eyes follow his hand as he rubs and washes his body. I could start to feel the drool mixed with toothpaste start to fall from my lips but I don’t care. I don’t make any moves to clean it, I can’t. To lost in the man I call my boyfriend in the shower. Once I hear the water turn off I turn around finishing what I was supposed to be already done with. I place my toothbrush back where it belongs and fix up my hair. Taeyong wraps a towel around his waist. Through the mirror, I watch his wet hair dangle and little droplets of water fall sliding down his chest. He’s still so wet, I bit my lip trying to hide a moan at the sight of him. I turn back to my hair trying to redirect my thoughts.

Maybe I should have had some fun with him last night because he’s all I’m going to be thinking about today. I hear his feet coming up behind me. He swings both arms around my waist as I apply some makeup. He kisses under my ear letting his warm breath tickle my skin. He leans closer to my ear, “I saw you staring,” he says letting his hand travel down my waist to my thigh. He watched me through the mirror the mascara bottle starting to fall from the weakness in my hands. Letting his hands slide closer to where I desperately needed him. “Do you want me to help you?” He asks pushing my pajama shorts to the side only touching me on the outside of my panties.

Rubbing in slow circles he kissed a line of wet kisses down my neck, biting softly on the skin. “Taeyong…” I whined as he licked the spot where he bit. “Yes,” he breathed out. Holding onto his veiny bicep I squeezed silently begging him to quit teasing me and have his way with me. “Does my baby want me to touch her?” He taunted as he tapped on my clit. Letting out a low moan as his left hand slid my panties to the side his right hand finding its way slipping through my folds. I bit my lip as Taeyong circled my clit. “Taeyong please,” I pleaded. He smirked pulling his finger away for a moment bringing them up to his mouth and pushing past his lips. He hummed at the waste of my arousal. Bringing his fingers back down he slid his index finger inside me. I let out a moan leaning my head on his wet chest. He looked up at me through the mirror watching me fall apart in his arms.

Slipping in another finger he thrust them in and out of me. My hips jerked back onto his already harden dick feeling it poke my butt through his towel that remain loosely around his waist. Keeping his fingers thrusting in and out of my whole he used his left hand to angle my body allowing my ass to poke out. He pulled down my shorts removing his fingers for just amount to remove my panties. Using his hand he spread my legs apart, letting himself fall to his knees.

He watched as my wetness dripped before his eyes letting out a loud groan watching as I dripped on my bathroom floor. He licked up my thigh sucking on any part where wetness lay. Making his way to my pussy. I clenched as his fingers continued to thrust in and out of me. Soon his tongue met my pussy sucking hard and fast on my clit. I let out a loud moan as he devoured my pussy. He groaned against my pussy bucking his hips into the air. The towel barely added any friction to his boner that was concealed.

“I’m gonna cum,” I say my eyes squeezed shut. Taeyong continued to sloppy make out with my pussy letting his skillful tongue dance around my clit. Letting out one last moan I came all over his tongue and fingers. He pulled his fingers out of me sucking on them soon moving his mouth back to my pussy sucking up all my cum past his lips. Rising back up he licked his lips immediately discarding the towel from around his waist. Taking his cock in his hands he glided it through my pussy letting it circle my clit for a bit. I moaned again. This was all too much, I felt so sensitive. Anything he did set my body on fire. Every small touch, lick, and kiss set me ten steps closer to being over the edge.

Taeyong slipped inside me easily letting me adjust to him. He waited until I said it was okay to move. I clenched tightly around him as he slid in his dick. He held onto my hips tightly watching as his cock began to disappear inside me. At one point I think I clenched too hard because h Eleanor’s forward grip on my hips tightened. “Baby please…if you keep doing that I’ll cum” he said almost begging me to stop. Once he was fully inside me and I was ready I tapped the back of his muscular thigh and he began to move. He slowly began to thrust inside me finding a good angle that would feel good for both is us. Once he found a good rhythm he started to move faster. His hips smacked into mine the sound of skin slapping could be heard all over the bathroom and probably outside.

Taeyong groaned repeatedly watching himself disappear inside me. Groaning even louder when he felt my walls deliciously clench around him. Taeyong was always vocal during sex. The first time we were together was the only time he wasn’t. He was nervous the first time we got together. He had been a fan of mine. Let’s just say I did some very good fan service.

After telling him the second time we had sex that I found it attractive to hear a guy moan he wouldn’t stop. Now every time we fuck I’m blessed with the sound of his deep groans. Hearing him groan now so close to my ear turns me on even more. Feeling a gush of wetness pour out of me and slip down his cock he groans again turning me over and placing me on the bathroom sink. Spreading my legs out more from this angle he’s much deeper inside me. He watched his jaw slack as he slips in and out of me holding onto my legs just to make sure I don’t close them. His head falls back his lips pursed as he brings his head back down looking into my face. I let out a moan at the sight of him fucking me so well.

“You’re so good for me,” I say through half a moan. “You make me feel so good Bu,” I say watching as he squeezes his eyes shut fucking me even harder. He brings one of his hands to my clit circling the bundle of nerves. My head falls back in pleasure allowing me to slip into the euphoric state we’re both in. “Fuck baby I’m gonna cum,” he says pursing his lips. I lean up putting my hand around his neck and pulling him closer to me. Our eyes, nose, and lips are inches apart. He leans forward and kisses me allowing me to swallow all of his moans. “Bu I’m gonna come,” I say letting myself pull away from the kiss.

“Please come, baby, come for me,” he says against my lips. I cum all over his cock uncontrollably clenching around him. He groans, “Fuck, Fuck” he pulls out jerking his dick and cumming on my stomach. He lets out a series of breaths before he leans over and grabs a fresh towel. He cleans me up helping me off the counter and turning on the shower water. He steps out of the bathroom probably to grab some clothes and I quickly pee before he comes back then we both get into the shower and clean ourselves up.

Once I get out I reapply my makeup and blow dry my hair. Once I’m finished I check the time on my phone. Taeyong walks over now wearing a pair of sweats and a t-shirt he pulled from the drawer I left for him next to my clothes. He kisses my forehead and smiles coming up with an idea. “I was thinking we could eat breakfast together. It’s my day off and there’s this place I can take you where I can promise we won’t be bothered” he says. I sigh kissing him then pull away. “I wish I can but you know comeback season is the most stressful time. I have pre-video shoots today, but I promise once the comeback is over we’ll do something together” he sighs nodding his head and letting his hands fall from my waist holding onto my hands. “Okay,” he says looking into my eyes and smiling. “Well go out on a date once comeback season is over,” he says kissing me then moving to the side so that I could leave for the day. “Good morning,” I said bowing to all the dancers as I walked into the rehearsal room. We rehearsed the dance a couple more times before it was time to film. “This looks good. Everyone clap for yourselves” the choreographer said clapping along with the rest of the dancers. I clapped along with them as well walking over to grab a towel to wipe off my sweat. The dancers stood together gathering in their things to leave, making small talk. I took a sip of water watching the group of dancers shyly come towards me.

One of the guys stepped up first. “Hello,” he said bowing. The people behind him bowed I bowed back to them. “We wanted to say that we are grateful and honored that we will dance with you. We’re wishing you well on you’re comeback” he said politely. I smiled in return placing my water bottle back in my bag. “Thank you. Make sure you all get some rest before we film. Take care of yourselves, okay?” The man smiled nodding and bowing, the other dancers bowed as well. “We will,” they said all walking away giggling excitedly to one another.

I smiled watching them walk away. Soon my smile started to fade realizing I would never have that again. A while ago before I was in a group with eight other girls. Our group was pretty successful throughout Asia. We had performed, recorded albums, and went on three tours together before our disbandment two years ago. I’ll never forget the day we disbanded. One of my members, unfortunately, had gotten into a scandal that she couldn’t save herself from, a dating scandal. Usually, with dating scandals, the company would put out a statement saying it’s false. That the two are just friends or have never met. Either way, the scandal cannot be confirmed as the truth. However, in her case, the scandal was proven to be true. She wasn’t even dating the guy, she was married to him. She had missed a comeback and people started to grow suspicious of her long absents. At first, people assumed it was because she was ill but she had gotten married and went on her honeymoon. She had an extremely private wedding only a few friends and family members showed up.

When she had gotten back from her honeymoon people started to notice she was gaining weight, especially around her face. Fans hid their fatphobia with back-handed concerns. People followed her, and they paid more attention to her. Noting that during parties or episodes of our show, she’d be the only one to pass down a drink. When the public realized she was pregnant it wasn’t too long until they found out by who. Once they found out that not only was she married, but she was married to another idol both of their lives were put in jeopardy and soon it became too much to handle.

The fans started to come for the other members including myself now believing we all had a secret love affair happening behind the scenes. We did what we could to convince the fans we were single But to no avail. The fans and the media became obsessive and demanded a response or evidence to prove we were liars. It became so bad that people no longer wanted to support us. They felt hurt and betrayed. They stopped buying our albums, and our merchandise, and watching our show. I didn’t realize how hard it had hit us until we gave our final show and half the stadium was empty. The company decided it was best for us to disband.

Nowadays some of my other members have started their solo careers, some as actors and others as singers. One even debuted in a new girl group. And three others decided to leave idol life for good. I was lucky enough to build my career back up, changing the identity I had from my last group to the one I have now. In my group, I was the lead rapper and the main dancer who was the happy virus of my group. Now I’m a vocalist/dancer who is much more mature and toned down. I hated it. I preferred to be loud and colorful but my management told me, “No one wants to hear a pretty girl make a rap album. You’re too pretty and too delicate to make a rap album, don’t be so aggressive, try singing instead” what does that even fucking mean.

Walking into the music video set after getting my hair and makeup done I look to my left to see Taeyong. Widening my eyes I walk over to him pulling him to the side by his arm. “What are you doing here? Are you trying to get caught?” I ask nervously. My stomach turned at the thought of someone seeing. He smiled waving his hand. “It’s okay, I have a friend who’s here so everyone knows I’m with him. No one will know” he reassured me. I sigh nodding my head, “Okay but be mindful okay? This is my first solo album and I don’t need a scandal” I say rubbing my temples. He nods, “Don’t worry. Just do your thing okay?” I nodded walking away from him towards the set. Placing my water bottle down and moving a piece of hair behind my head I let out a breath standing in position.

Currently, we’re filming one of the dance scenes, this one will be used in the performance video so it has to be perfect. The set was a meadow filled with fake flowers, trees, and a blue sky as the backdrop. Standing on my tape the dancers already placed on their tap wearing their costumes as well stood in position. Letting out a shakey breath I looked over at Taeyong who smilies giving me a thumbs up. Once the music started had shot right into idol mode and danced flawlessly.

“I’m sorry the shoot finished so let,” I told Taeyong who currently sat across from me at one of the best restaurants in Gangnam. He shook his head waving his hand and picking up his chopsticks. “Don’t worry about it. If there’s anyone who understands long shoots it’s me,” he joked taking a bite of his dinner. Picking up some meat on a chopstick he leaned his hand over the table bringing the meat to my mouth. I gladly accepted it letting the flavor melt on my tongue. I hummed in approval. “Thank you bu I needed this,” I say grateful he still wanted to go out so late. Even though we were in a room ourselves separated from the public with the windows closed it still felt good to eat outside my apartment and his dorm. “Of course, I just want to make sure you feel good,” he says continuing to eat his food.

“How do you feel Bu?” I ask also eating from my plate. He shrugs, “I’m okay. It felt good to sleep today, I needed it,” he says honestly. I won’t be surprised that he stood in my apartment to rest after I left just to make sure he got those few extra needed hours. I wouldn’t even be mad at him if he did, he always welcomed me there. At this point, he practically lives there. I have his toothbrush there, his hairbrush, skincare, clothes even some shoes. He even bought me a fish to keep in my living room, he set it up last Christmas. Before we got serious it was always his excuse to come over. “Can I check on the fish?” Or “Is the fish okay? I should come over and see” or my personal favorite. “I put the tank together so I should be the one to clean it”

Once we finished our dinner I walked out of the restaurant after Taeyong to around wandering eyes. However, on my way out I slipped causing Taeyong to turn around and catch me. Helping me up he held my hand staring into my eyes deep into my eyes. “Are you okay?” He asked. I nodded forgetting where I was or who would see. This was the first time we held hands in public. Even if it was because I almost broke up my face we were still touching one another in the public eye. It doesn’t seem scary at first glance. To maybe a child or an older person we were regular people holding hands, but to the man behind us with the camera we were rent. Click Dispatch: Taeyong and Y/n are rumored to be Dating. The two were seen leaving a restaurant at Gangnam together at night. This is Y/n’s first dating scandal since had been rumored to be dating Nct member Jung Jaehyun and Bts Jeon Jungkook. The rumors circulated back when she was in her now-disbanded group Moonlight. Now rumored to be dating Nct’s Leader Lee Taeyong.

Shade Room- Kpop Star Y/n rumored to be dating Nct’ s Lee Taeyong. Before this, she had been rumored to be dating fellow band member Jung Jaehyun. Does this make Y/n a Hommie Hopper?

TMZ Live- Kpop Star Y/L Y/n rumored to be dating a coworker Lee Taeyong leader of the K-pop group Nct 127. Before this, she had been rumored to have been dating his bandmate Jung Jaehyun who is also friends with Bts Jeon Jungkook who is friends with Jaehyun. Y/n must like Kimchi.

I sat on my couch late at night watching the news. My face flashed across the screen again and again. The same picture of me and Taeyong was shown all over Korean national television and apparently, the story was so interesting it made it to global news. My manager had taken me home refusing to let Taeyong speak to me, assuming enough damage had been created. I had only picked up my phone when multiple calls from the company came in. My friends had told me not to check Twitter or Instagram just to stay silent and wait for my company to handle it. Which is what I did. I waited for my company to handle it. I didn’t know what to do. When I was rumored to be dating Jaehyun the Jungkook rumors came out at the same time so people started to assume they were false, which they were. I was dating a different idol at the time, Cha Eunwoo.

Biting my nails I waited for another company call to come in. What if I get fired? What if I lose everything I worked for? What if people hate me? What if the fans stop supporting me? I kill myself with these questions beginning to walk back in forth in my living room. I felt sick at the idea of losing everything I have. I could lose my record deal. I could lose the apartment. Overthinking another one of my poor qualities. Assuming the worst because I expected the worst was always my downfall. A knock at the door temporarily silenced my thoughts. Walking over to the door and checking the peephole making sure it was an obsessive fan trying to kill me I yelped in surprise seeing Taeyong.

I pulled him inside quickly not giving him a chance to take off his shoes. I shut the door locking it. I turn to face him. “What are you doing here? Do you know what would happen if someone saw you right now? Seeing you stand outside my apartment at this time? Do you know what they would say? Do you know what they're saying now?” I asked too many questions to keep count. Taeyong sighed taking off his shoes and walking into my apartment and towards the couch. He shut the news off changing the channel. “What are you doing?” I asked. He flipped through the channels.

“Everything is gonna be okay, okay? The company will clear this up and say we accidentally bumped into each other or we met over dinner to discuss business like a collab. We’ll be okay, okay?” He says wording the last part like a question. I let out my first breath of the night sitting beside him and letting myself lay into his chest. He holds me tight kissing me on the top of my head. “Everything is gonna be okay” he lightly scratches the top of my head. “We’ll be okay,” he says.

“I hope so,” I respond keeping my eyes on the tv. Taeyong finally finds a random channel to leave on keeping the volume low as he sings to me. His voice is the last thing I hear before I shut my eyes and fall asleep.

Waking up the next morning feeling myself still wrapped in Taeyong’s arms I snuggled up to his chest more taking in his natural scent. As I lay cuddled in his arms I thought for a moment. This was so unfair. All I wanted to do was do something normal in my life for once like dating. I know now becoming an idol meant that I had to give up any bit of privacy I had. I just never would have thought it would have been this bad.

Over two years, I’ve moved three times. My address got leaked in my last two apartments in Seoul so now I live in Gangnam praying that no one will find me again. The first time it happened I was terrified. It was late at night when I felt someone touch my hair. Waking up by the odd feeling I jumped in fear. A stranger stood by my pillow playing with my hair as I slept. Running away into my bathroom and locking the door I called the police. The stranger continued to bang on the door begging for me to return to my bed. I just stood on the phone with the cops until they had arrived.

Now I have cameras in my apartment and the building installed some in the hallway after I told them what happened, just to make sure everyone is safe. I also have security outside my door every day to make sure that never happens again. I sighed feeling a test form in my eye. My life is never gonna be the same. Sometimes I wish my life was boring, I envy those who live simple lives. I can’t even have a boyfriend without everyone’s heart exploding in betrayal or head exploding in jealousy.

I leaned over to the side picked up my phone deciding to check my socials, even though I really shouldn’t. A part of me couldn’t help it. I was curious about what people said, even if it’s bad I wanted to know. I swiped up unlocked my phone and opened up Twitter. I clicked over to the trending page and sure enough, there were my and Taeyong’s names trending number one. I bit my lip my finger hovering over the hashtag. Pulling it away I looked back at Taeyong who peacefully slept on my sofa. Turning back to my phone I started biting my nails. Taeyong would tell me not to read them. He would take my phone and put it down and distract me in any way he could. Whether it was making me laugh, singing, or fucking he would do something, but he was asleep right now and couldn’t stop me so I clicked the hashtag which I really shouldn’t have done.

Neogirl127 - Y/n you better leave my Taeyong or else.

Y/nforever- Taeyong is just using Y/n for her money. Y/n, leave him!!!

Neogirl127- Taeyong doesn’t need Y/n for money, he outdanced and out-rapped, if anything he’s paying her bills. Neogirl127 replied to Y/nforever.

Y/nforever- Are you blind? He outdanced/trapped no one. Y/n is way more famous than him and has way more money. You’re favs are just broke and you’re mad. Cry about it. 🤷‍♀️

Fan wars were normal in the industry. I didn’t fear them too much, sometimes they just made me cringe by the things they would say. Outdanced? Outrapped? What does that even mean? I don’t even rap anymore. I started to scroll down more people telling me I need to leave him alone and that he belonged to them. Luckily my fans had my back, the only unlucky thing about that is a lot of them were putting down Taeyong to lift me and that is not okay. As I started to scroll down I started to see more of the darker tweets. Naneo127- I hope Taeyong-Oppa realizes Y/n is just a slut who will open her legs for anyone. I mean she already spread them for Jaehyun. Who’s next Johnny?

Nightjae- I hope Y/n dies so she can finally leave oppa alone.

Neocity- Y/n is too fat and ugly for yongie. She’s just a fat pig who needs to die. Marksmelons- If she doesn’t leave him I’ll kill Bet myself. Marksmelons replied to Neocity. Neocity- I’ll help you. Neocity replied to Marksmelons. I left Twitter swiping it away. I felt so sick to my stomach. Everyone hated me. Why? Just like that everything I worked towards all started to fade away. My phone started to ring causing Taeyong to wake up. He rubbed his eyes looking into my direction mouth if everything was okay as I put the phone to my ear. My manager was calling. I nodded, and he nodded in return walking into the bathroom.

“Hello,” I said standing up and walking towards my kitchen. “Have you heard anything? Is there a plan?” I ask anxiously tapping my fingers on the counter. My manager cleared his throat. “Well, more people are talking but the company spoke with SM both are going to deny the rumors and say it was a slight run it and you two don’t even know each other. Who just overstepped and tripped and Taeyong was a gentleman and caught you. The fans will believe he’s a perfect guy and that you’re a little clumsy and made a mistake,” he said.

I scoffed, “So let's get this straight. Taeyong looks like the good guy and I look like what a cultz! How does that help me?” My manager huffed, “Don’t fight me on this, this is the best we can do for you. Besides it helps your image. Damsel in distress. It’s perfect,” he said. I could hear the smirk in his voice. I huffed shaking my head and placing my fingertips on my forehead.

“Whatever,” I said hanging up. I slammed my phone on the counter. “Be careful you might break it,” Taeyong said now in a change of clothes, his hair wet and fresh from the shower. I sighed picking up my phone and placing it in my pocket. “What’s the matter?” He asked coming towards me. He stood behind me using the tips of his fingers to glide up and down my arms. “Are you stressed because of the rumors? It’s gonna be okay, the company can handle it” he said hoping to lighten the mode. I shook my head scoffing pushing his hand away and walking towards my bedroom closing the door. The door opened again Taeyong followed inside.

I walked around my room gathering a comfortable outfit to wear after I shower. Taeyong watched as I did this quickly my steps full of frustration. Taeyong confused continued to watch me before speaking up. “Did I say something?” He asked a little worry in his voice. I shook my head grabbing a baggy graphic t-shirt. “No,” I said sternly not making eye contact with him. I could feel his eyes on me watching my face. The way my eyebrows furrowed every time I dropped a pair of shorts on the ground.

“Baby, what’s the matter?” He asked coming closer to me picking up the black shorts and handing them to me. I snatched them from his hand. “I don’t need your help,” I said walking away and into the bathroom. I sighed closing the door a test slipping from my eye. Maybe I was too harsh? No, I’m not crying because I was mean I’m crying because I’m angry. I’m angry at the fact that people around the world wanted me dead because I stepped away, out of the light, and played around in the shadows for a moment. I’m angry because my company doesn’t take me seriously. I’m angry that Taeyong is acting like everything is okay when it’s not. I’m angry that people hate me more than they hate Taeyong right now. I mean why? Is it because I’m a woman? I don’t know what to do anymore. I choked on a sob. A knock came on the door.

“Y/n? Baby, are you okay?” Now I felt even worse. He was so loving and so caring. He deserves better than to be treated the way I treated him. He did nothing wrong. People hated him too. I just wish he could see the reality of my life having to deal with such a scandal, this could break me. I cried in the shower until the water turned cold and I finally got out. Picking up my phone the next morning I read the headline of the article that had just been published. Lee Taeyong was spotted outside Y/n’s house. Click the link below to check out the rest of the story. How. How? I sat up on my bed a cold sweat falling down the middle of my back. The thick comforter suffocated me as I blinked my eyes constrained on my phone. How did they find me? I thought to myself scratching the top of my head I tried to think of anything I did wrong. I always kept my apartment private, I didn’t even do livestreams in my home just to be safe nor did u post pictures of the inside or outside of my apartment. My manager always made sure I wasn’t being followed home as well as my security. So how could anyone even find me? How did they even know where to look?

Did they follow me? Did they follow Taeyong? My eyes widened I clicked on the link leading me to the evidence. There were pictures of Taeyong outside my apartment building. Then more pictures of him walking down my hallway wearing a baseball cap and a mask. Then to the front of my door. The final pictures sealed the deal. I was outside my apartment door letting him inside.

I wanted to scream. How could I be so stupid? So unaware of my surroundings. What’s worse is these pictures were taken at night so who knows what crazy story they’ll put together. And my security. Where were they? How come they didn’t see this person taking photos or following Tae? I turned to my side for a moment trying to catch my breath. My mind was running a mile a minute and it was beginning to give me a headache.

My eyes burned when looked down to see Taeyong fast asleep snoring lightly his head peaking from the blankets. His arm was laid out in the spot that I was once laying in where he held me. I leaned over my phone still in my hand. I carefully touched the tip of my fingers over his forehead moving some strands of hair out of the way being cautious not to wake him. He stirred in his sleep. I pulled my hand away looking back at my phone. When will this end? My phone rang causing Taeyong to jolt awake. “You set an alarm?” He asked rubbing his eyes. I shook my head. “No, it’s my company. They probably want to talk about the article” I say biting my nails. “What article,” he asks now half awake. “The one that was published an hour ago,” I say standing up out of my bed and walking into my bathroom picking up the call. “Y/n,” the owner said. I gulped stepping further into the bathroom and walking towards the counter. I held my phone to my ear my legs shaking in fear. Please tell me this isn’t the end. It can’t be. I’ve worked so hard to be here. I can’t lose it all again. “Yes sir?” I say more in the form of a question.

“Are you aware that you have been talked about in the media lately and not for good reasons?” I sighed letting my fingers fall from my mouth. “Yes, and I’m sorry I’m doing my best to keep everything a secret. I truly am, I just don’t know what happened I mean this is a huge invasion of privacy and I think we should be dealing with the person who did this” I respond hoping he’ll be on my side. “Look Y/n you’ve never really given me any trouble. You do what you’re supposed to and I appreciate that. You’re very popular and you have contributed a lot to the company. You are our top star and we need it to stay that way, right?” He worded that last as a question. “Yes and-“

“And I’m going to handle this on one condition,” he said. I smiled my heart thumping out of my chest. “Sure what it is?” I ask ready to do anything to keep my career.

“You mess up again and you have to leave Taeyong. I can’t have any more slip-ups from our star girl. Do you understand?” He asked. The thumping of my heart turned. Instead of excited me it was replaced with anxiety. What if he can’t take care of it? What if the media will continue to find “evidence” of my relationship? I can lose Taeyong to all of this. I can’t lose him, I won’t lose him. I stepped out of the bathroom after taking some time to get ready for the day. Walking out Taeyong remained on my bed his phone in his hand scrolling through whatever app he was on. When I walked in closing the bathroom door behind me he let his phone fall to the side. Sitting up from the bed walked over to me kissing me before he walked into the bathroom. What am I gonna do? I thought to myself. I walked over to my closet grabbing my workout bag. I had Pilates in thirty minutes and I didn’t want to be late. Getting my bag ready Taeyong came out of the bathroom. He frowned seeing me with a bag in my hand. “Where are you going?” He asked. I going the bag over my shoulder. “Pilates. Make sure you leave a little after to me. Also,” I walk over to the kitchen to get my water bottle. Filling it up my back faces him. “Try not to come over as much. I don’t want fans or the media to get suspicious. All I need is one more article about me and then..”

“And then what?” I sigh, “My company says if one more article comes out I’ll have to leave you,” I say closing the cap of my water bottle. Taeyong’s shoulders fall, and he stops following me around as I walk over to my door slipping on a sweater as well as more sneakers. “Are you gonna leave me?” He asks walking towards me. I could hear the sadness in his voice. I sighed, “I don’t want to. But if it protects us both then we might have to” I say walking out my front door and leaving a desperate Taeyong inside.

I’ve become more anxious about my surroundings since the article. I always look behind me, never sit with my back facing a door, I even fired the security guards that stood outside my door and hired new ones. One used to work for Beyoncé so maybe he’ll do a better job. Sometimes there will be fans outside the company door waiting for their favorite idols to walk in. I normally didn’t mind as long as they didn’t touch me inappropriately or the staff. They usually just sing praises and just want you to say hello. They don’t follow anyone inside so the fans were deemed harmless. And most times they didn’t show up. Only on special occasions. Like an idol's birthday or comeback day.

However today they were all waiting outside for me. And I knew it wasn’t good since I spotted some neobongs in the crowd. I let my head hit the car seat. My manager looked over seeing more fans than usual. Panicking he told the driver to park behind the company so that I could get out without being harassed. My fans and nctzens shouted at the black SUV.

“Leave Taeyong-oppa alone!”

“Stop being annoying and just leave!”

“You a waste of air. I can’t believe Taeyong Oppa breathes the same air as you!”

“Honestly just die!”

“Stop being so mean. Let them do whatever they want!”

“Y/n leave Taeyong you’re too good for him!”

“If you don’t leave him I won’t listen to you’re music anymore!”

“I’ll burn all you’re albums!”

“Y/n you’re too pretty for him!”

“You’re too good for him! Just let him date some other girl and you date a better man!”

Both fandoms shouted at the car, they shouted at me. Why was I being punished? Why were we being punished for wanting to have both a career and for being in love? This was so unfair I thought to myself. And all my company could think about was making their next buck off me. Unfuckingbelievable. A couple of weeks went by since Taeyong last came to my house. We’ve only contacted each other through our phones. We text and call when we can but meeting up in person wasn’t the best idea for right now. We even let the others know where we were going just to make sure there were no accidental run-ins. It sucked that we have to do this but we were left with no choice. Imagine what people would say, do if the rumors were confirmed true. It would be over for both is us. I curled my legs together praying that this would all be over soon. I had eventually fallen asleep still wearing my jeans and blouse. My hair had landed in every direction so I had to pull some out from my face when I woke up. I stretched almost cramping up from how long I stretched. I rubbed my eyes looking towards my window. When I had fallen asleep it was still bright outside, now it was dark and rainy the city lights glowing like stars. A knock at the door stole my focus. I stood up from my bed putting on my slippers. Before stepping out my bedroom door I grabbed my white robe.

Opening my bedroom door I closed it behind me holding the robe tightly around myself. The knocking continued as I made my way to the door. The lights in my living room were off. The only light source coming from the windows. The moonlight mixed with the crash of thunder and lightning every few seconds would light up a path to the front door.

The knocking became more hustle. Whoever was outside really wanted to get in. By the knock, I knew it wasn’t Taeyong. He knows the code to my apartment and would have just walked in and even then he would have texted me to let me know he was coming. Slowly I walked towards the door trying my best to remain calm and quiet. Standing on my tippy-toes I placed my hand on the door to keep my balance checking the peephole. Through the small hole, I could see a person wearing a black hoodie holding a duffle bag. One of my security guards lay unconscious on the ground. So much for my protection. The knocking stopped my eyes remained focused on the unknown figure. Trying to control my breath the thunder crashing and breaking the silence caused me to yelp. The figure slowly moved its head up looking directly at the peephole. I had made direct contact with the mask-covered person.

I quickly stood back running to the closet in my bedroom where my wooden baseball bat lay. Grabbing it I ran to my phone calling the police.

“Hello yes, a person is standing outside my door. I don’t know who they are. They keep banging on my front door and I’m afraid they're here to hurt me” I said panicking my voice barely above a whisper. “What makes you think there, there to hurt you?” The female officer asks. I shake my head. “They have a big duffle bag. I don’t know what’s inside. Can you just please send someone? I don’t want to die” I said on the phone with the useless officer.

“Tell me did you see their face?” She asks. I sigh annoyed. “What? No, I didn’t see their face. Listen just tell me are you sending someone or not?” I ask. I hear typing on a computer. Another strike of lightning flashes followed by thunder causing me to jump. “We are sending a car now. Remain on the phone with me until they arrive. Is there anywhere for you to hide?” She asks. I nod, “Yes I could hide in the bathroom. I’ll lock the door” I say walking towards the bathroom holding tightly onto the bat.

“Okay. Lock the door” she says. I lock the door turning off the bathroom light. I hold the phone to my ear holding tightly onto the baseball bat. “Tell me what is your name?” The officer asks. “I’m Officer Park,” she says.

“I’m Y/n,” I said my voice shakey. My heart is leaping out of my chest. My throat feels so dry that it would hurt to drink anything. The banging on the door continues causing a chill up my spine to crawl causing all my tiny hairs on the back of my neck. A tear slips from my eyes. Why was this happening? I choke on a sob. Why was I being targeted?

“Okay okay now tell me what you see,” Park says through the phone. “Uh the lights are off but I can see the candle I lit earlier,” I say looking directly at the candle. “Is someone coming?” I ask again. The officer reassures me someone is coming. “What else do you see?” “How is this helping? I could-“

The banging stopped. But what caught my attention was not the on and off again banging. It wasn’t the groaning from behind the door. The thunder and lightning outside crashing together didn’t frighten me anymore. It became distant noise compared to the kicking of the front door. Tears slipped down my eyes as I placed my hand over my phone. Shaking in my white slippers I fell to my knees still holding the phone to my ear. The bat lay next to me now as I tried to control my breathing as I heard the keypad to my front door being clicked on and then, My front door opened.

The house fell silent. The thunder turned into simple rain. I could only hear the floor creek as the intruder walked further into the house. “Hello? Hello Y/n are you still there?” The officer asked. I nodded holding my phone shut. Trying to not let out a sob. “It’s here. Whoever it is, is inside my house” I say hearing the intruder walk further into the living room. “Just remain calm, someone is coming,” Park said trying to help me relax, but to no avail. I was terrified. What if this person was going to steal from me or kill me or worse? Standing up onto my feet my knees wobbled to the bathroom door making sure I had locked it. Once I had checked I let out a small breath but not before it spoke.

“Where are you bitch?! Come out and show yourself!” The person said. It had a girl's voice, a young woman’s voice she can’t be any older than twenty-four. I thought to myself. “Y/n the police are ten minutes away. Try you’re best to remain calm” Park said. Ten minutes was too far away. They’ll never make it in time. “COME OUT!” The woman yelled. I could hear something break. Then another object broke. She was probably breaking my vase full of flowers. “IF YOU COME OUT NOW MAYBE I’LL SPARE YOU,” she said angrily as she broke more objects in my home. I held the bat closer to me with my right hand. My phone was being held by my left.

“COME ON Y/N. I KNOW YOUR HOME. I SAW YOU THROUGH THE PEEP-HOLE” she yelled viciously. I could hear more things being destroyed as she made her way further into my apartment. “Oh, maybe you’re hiding in the kitchen!” She said tauntingly. Relaxing a sigh of frustration I heard the sound of plates and cups crashing onto the floor. “Maybe in one of you’re many, many rooms,” she said. I heard her walk further away from my bedroom allowing me to let out a sigh of relief. Hopefully, she’ll stay there by the time the police come.

“Okay Y/n now I want you to tell me you’re favorite song,” Park said. I raised a brow confused. “How is that going to help?” I whispered and yelled doing my best to keep quiet. “Trust me okay? Close you’re eyes and breathe” she said. “Answer the question please” “I guess The Rainy Night, Nct 127,” I said keeping my eyes closed and letting out a breath. Every object that broke caused me to jump, but I could feel my heart start to slow down returning to its normal pace. However, my moment of relaxation was short-lived when I heard the bedroom door open.

“Maybe you’re in the closet,” she said and what I could only assume was break down the door to the closet. I heard her footsteps get farther probably checking the opposite side of the bed facing towards my window. “Not under the bed” she noted. “Please Officer Park tells them to hurry she’s in my room,” I said starting to panic again. “Just relax Y/n the officers are minutes away,” the officer said. I shook my head shaking where I stand. “No no, I’ll be head by then” “No Y/n you’re going to be fine just breathe” I shake my head dropping my phone. “I can’t I can’t-“

“So you’re in the bathroom,” the intruder says mockingly. I widened my eyes. My heart completely fell to my ass. I’m doomed. She’s going to come in here and kill me. I’m going to end up on the news tonight and everyone is gonna find out I died. I’m completely screwed and no one is here to help me. I back away from the bathroom door slowly. I try my best to save myself still holding onto hope. “Please go away. I’ll give you anything you want! Money, cars, a house! I can even buy you a plane!” I said trying to bribe her to win my freedom.

She scoffed bitterly. “I do not want your money or connections. You think just because you’re rich you can buy you’re way out of this. You see this is you’re the problem. People like you assume that you can just through some cash and everything will be okay. Well, it’s not. You’re not good enough for this place and you’re not good enough for Taeyong” she begins to say. So this is what this is about. She wants to hurt me because of him.

“Just tell me you’ll leave him and I’ll leave. You will never see my face again if you tell me you will break up with him and never see him again. Tell me you’ll stop bothering him and his members and go away. As matter a of fact why don’t you just leave the country and never return? Yeah. Do that and I won’t kill you” she jeers. “Listen I don’t know who you are but trust me I can help you. If you want help I can provide that for you. This. What you’re doing is not okay. Do you think Taeyong would be impressed or appreciate what you’re doing here tonight? Do you think be with you if you kill me? You being here is going to hurt him. Think about it for a moment…do you think he will still love you as his fan if he knows the harm you will cause the people he loves?” I ask trying to get the intruder to comply. I want us both to survive this and I want her to leave.

“I won’t call the police if you just go. I’ll continue to love my life and you can continue to live yours and we can both act like this never happened” I say the bat now sitting loosely in my hand. I walk closer to the door seeing the shadow of her foot from underneath shifting around. “Just please go home,” I say hoping this works and we can all just go back to how things were. But that’s the thing. This world isn’t perfect and you don’t always get what you want.

She began pounding on the bathroom door. “I don’t need him to love me. I need you dead.” She said hotly. The banging continued, she was trying to break down the door. I clenched my bat backing away from the door. Stepping into the bathtub I waited for the door to open. If she comes in I won’t hesitate to swing. I tried to be nice and understanding, it didn’t work. Now I have to use plan B, fight fire with fire hopefully I don’t get burned. “Y/n? What the hell happened?” I heard his voice. My eyes widened looking towards the door. “No no no,” I said to myself hearing the banging on the bathroom door stop. “Look who’s home,” she said. I could hear her footsteps walking away from the bathroom door. I immediately jumped into action stepping out of the bathtub my slippers now slightly wet. Sliding across the white tiles I kicked my phone under the sink, Officer Park still on the line.

“Hello? Hello Y/n!”

I unlocked the bathroom door seeing no sight of the young woman. “Who are you?” I heard Taeyong ask the intruder. “It’s me? Don’t you recognize me?” She asked him. She had left the duffle bag in the room. I walked past it not wasting time searching. Making my way slowly to the bedroom door I clenched onto my bat tightly so tight my knuckles began to turn white. Without hurrying I opened up my bedroom door walking into the living room trying my best to around any spots I know will creek. Taeyong’s front was facing me and the young’s woman back was turned to me. I could see when she lifted the mask off her face.

Taeyong hadn’t noticed me yet keeping his focus on the girl. “Still don’t recognize me?” She asked. I could hear the smile through her words. Taeyong squinted his eyes. “Shut you’re the girl that followed us around during our U.S tour. You're the same girl who followed Yuta around the mall and me and Doyoung around the dorms” She nodded excitedly. “I knew you would recognize me,” she said clasping her hands together.

“Where is Y/n? Did you hurt her?” He asked worriedly. I continued to creep up from behind Taeyong finally seeing me. I brought my finger to my lips telling him to be quiet, he nodded turning his attention back to the girl. The perfect distraction.

She huffed crossing her arms over her chest. “Really in here and all you want to do is talk about her? Well if you need to know I killed her. I killed her for you so that you could be happy. Y/n is only going to bring you down” she began walking towards him. He backed away from her which made her angry so she picked up a sculpture a threw it at my tv causing it to shatter along with everything else in my living room that I hasn’t noticed yet. “You think that makes me happy? Why would that make me happy? You’re insane!” He said causing her to act out again this time taking a knife from her pocket. “So ungrateful. I guess I have to kill you too” Before she could get close to him I hit her over the head with my wooden bat causing her to fall onto the ground a small pool of blood beginning to form near her head.

“Are you okay?” Taeyong came running to my pulling me into his arms. “I was so scared I thought you were hurt” he kissed the top of my head a tear slipping down his eye and down the top of my head. “I thought you were dead” “Freeze!” A bunch of officers holding guns and flashlights walked into my damaged apartment taking a look at us and then at the unconscious probably dead girl on my floor. They walked over seeing the wooden bat with blood at the top on the ground next to the young woman. They walked over to me taking both me and Taeyong away.

“Am I going to jail?” I asked as the officer stood in front of me. Placing a blanket behind me and handing me a cup of water. He shook his head. “No, she broke it and threatened to kill you as well as you’re boyfriend. It was self-defense” he said. I nodded looking over at Taeyong who sat in front of a female officer who also placed a blanket around him. The male officer in front of me cleared his throat. “I can’t be easy,” he said. Looking over at Taeyong and then at me. “What?” I asked. “For the two of you, dating. We found where the woman was staying. She had a bunch of photos of him all over her wall. As well as pictures of you. I’m assuming she had been stalking you both, especially you. I would recommend getting a bodyguard or someone to keep you safe and you might want to move out of this place, this is just my advice to you. It would be a shame if a young woman as you got hurt” he bowed before walking away to the female officer in front of Taeyong. He leaned over to her and they nodded walking away.

Taeyong instantly came to my side holding me. I leaned into his chest taking in his warmth and his scent. I was going to appreciate him now before I did what I knew I had to do.

This was going to break my heart but at least it would keep us safe. “I don’t know if it’s a good time to go into you’re apartment now being that the intruder destroyed a lot of your items. There is a place nearby where you can stay. You want to collect you’re things an officer can travel up with you to make sure nothing else bothers you tonight” I nodded slipping from Taeyong’s grasp removing the blanket and placing it in the ambulance. I watched as the young woman get placed on a stretcher and get slipped into the back of the ambulance. Taeyong stood next to me placing his blanket next to mine. “I’ll come with you,” he said. I nodded as he followed behind me. “I’ll wait by the door,” the officer said as I walked up to my front door. Opening it I gasped. Everything was destroyed. My paintings, my sculptures, my pictures even my computer. Why? Why would she destroy all of this? Was she trying to take everything from me? I walked further into the room Taeyong followed behind also letting out a gasp. Mindful of his step he walked inside behind me. “Be careful” he said taking my arm and helping me step over the large pieces of glass from the now-broken window. My brain could believe what I was seeing was real. Had my apartment been destroyed? What was the purpose of this? I thought to myself seeing my fish tank destroyed. All my fish lay on the ground dead. Picking them up I placed them into an empty cup nearby.

“I think we should go” Taeyong began. “You can stay at my dorm with me,” he said. I shook my head holding onto the cup full of dead fish. A tear slipped from my eye. “No, it’s unsafe,” I say. “It’s better if I stay with a friend” I place the cup down next to the table where the fish once swam. Taeyong shook his head. “No you have to come with me, please. I’ll feel better if you are beside me. So I can protect you” I sigh making my way around the couch. “I don’t need you to protect me. I need you to be safe, if anything by doing this I’m protecting you”

“I don’t need you to protect me. That’s not your job-“ he followed me around the couch where the broke tv lay in pieces all over the cream-colored rug. My face began to heat and soon the rest of my body. “Oh, and what exactly is your job? To protect me. Why because I’m some helpless woman who needs a man to make sure she’s safe and secure. I don’t need you to protect me, I can handle myself” I said angrily. Was I just some weakling to the world? “Y/n look what happened tonight. I mean honestly-“

“Honestly what? Last time I checked I saved you from getting stabbed to death!” I said making my way around the couch Taeyong quickly on my trail just in case I fall.

“Baby please just listen,” he said like he was trying to be reasonable. “No no, you like everyone else believe I need to be protected. Put in a box where I can’t get hurt. Admit it you think I can’t handle myself” I say causing Taeyong to sigh in defeat. “Fine. I believe you can’t handle yourself. I believe that you can’t protect yourself I mean look at you! Look at this place! For weeks you’ve been all jumpy by any ding of you’re phone scared that we’ll get caught” “I’m not scared I’m careful. Unlike you, you seem to want to get caught”

“You see that’s it right there! I can’t live like this” He shook his head both frustrated and disappointed. I stopped in my tracks turning to him but being mindful of the glass on the floor. I could feel the bottled-up anger forming in me bubbling up to the surface. “You knew what this was when we got together. You knew we had to be careful even when we were just friends” “Yes I know but it shouldn’t be this way” “We have no choice but to live this way! It sucks it truly does but what choice do we have. You can’t have a relationship and you’re career you know that"

“You’re so selfish for saying that,” he says. “That’s so unfair”

“Selfish? I’m doing all this to be with you. I’m risking my entire career just to be with you. I get it, it’s easier for you because well let’s be honest here the fans are more forgiving of a man. But for me it’s different. I mean look around you Taeyong. My home was destroyed by some crazy-obsessed fan. How many more have to break down my door for you to see that I’m risking my life to be with you” I say causing Taeyong to remain silent. He kicked the ground putting his hands in his pocket. Nodding his head he wiped a tear away from his eye. “You’re right. I’m not the one not seeing the problem here. I’m holding you back” he said. “You deserve so much more than this. I can’t keep holding you back” he says his throat cracking. He keeps his eyes away from mine as he speaks.

“Now that’s unfair Bu. Both of us are risking a lot to be together and you’re not holding me back. Taeyong I love you so much” I say slowly walking toward him. “But,” he says his eyes glued to the floor. I stop in my tracks this is it. This is where it ends. “But…” When I fail to finish my sentence he finished it for me. “I can’t keep letting you save me. You always take the blame for me Y/n. Let me protect you this one time. Let me be the one to protect you just this time time” he said finally looking into my eyes. A sob left my throat and I quickly covered it turning away from him. I could hear his footsteps coming towards me and then stopping. I walked away from him down the hallway into a nearby room. Once I shut the door I opened my eyes. Blinded by tears I tried to make out what room I was in. Soon realizing where I was standing I let out a sound of pure pain.

It wasn’t the cry you make when you’re heart is broken. It was the sound you make when you have lost everything. Both Taeyong and the officer came running in seeing me kneeling on the ground. Not yet noticing the room until they turned their eyes away from me. The officer widened his eyes and Taeyong gasped. My studio had been destroyed. My hand covered my mouth my heart beating out of my chest. I couldn’t conceal the sobs no matter how hard I tried. The pain I felt in my chest felt like I had been stabbed repeatedly. What did I do to deserve this? I know I am not perfect but why was I being punished?

My piano was crushed pieces of my records sticking outside the top. Keys from the piano lay on the floor next to many song pages from many books I own, most ripped into millions of pieces. My awards broke and were thrown across the room. My microphone and recorder were broken and laid across the floor. My guitars were impaired, bent, and broken, and next to them laid my damaged albums that received from friends over the years. Even awards I had with my former members were dismantled and thrown around in the ground. Everything I loved lived and grew in this room. All my old songs and my new songs that the world hadn’t even heard yet were gone. The pictures I had on my wall their frames smashed and the photos were ripped in too. I had nothing. I had lost everything and all I could do was sit on my now eradicate studio floor and cry. A few days later. I sat by the window of my former member Kim Yeri’s home. Looking outside as the rain poured I held a warm mug close to me and a blanket covering me from the waist down.

For days people in the media had been talking about me and my apartment. Pictures leaked of Taeyong walking towards my apartment and soon pictures of him leaving. While most people wished for my safety there will still be some who have wished the intruder had succeeded in killing me.

Taeyong had however denied the rumors himself restating that I was just a friend and he wanted to make sure I was okay. The media seemed to take his word finally putting an end to our “Dating Scandal”. I let my chin fall into my hand. How stupid. A dating scandal. Why can’t I just make music and be free to date who I want? Don’t people realize that music sounds better when I have some sort of experience to relate to? Falling in love and getting hurt. Most people can relate to that. I thought people wanted to be my friend. Turns out they just want to control me.

Yeri sat across from me grabbing a blanket and holding a warm cup of tea. She looked over in my direction watching me as I watched the rain fall on the grass of her backyard. “How are you feeling?” She asked. I turned my focus onto her. “I’ve been better,” I say sipping my tea. She smiled at me endearingly. “What?” I asked wiping my face. “Are there cookie crumbs on my face I ate some before” she chuckled softly kicking me. “No stupid,” she said causing me to chuckle too. I needed that. She sipped her tea watching as I did the same.

“You’re so brave. I don’t think I could ever do what you did” she said. I shook my head. “What hit someone with a bat?” I waved my hand. “I just did that in the spur of the moment. I wasn’t even thinking straight” I said waving it off. That was the past now and I had to move on from it.

“I mean you may have not been thinking about yourself but you were thinking about him,” she said. I raised a brow scoffing looking away towards her garden. “Who Taeyong? I mean, of course, I hit her with the bat to save him. I didn’t want him to die” I said avoiding my true feelings. I don’t need her to be right just for her to rub it in like she always does. She rolled her eyes. “Sureeee” she teased.

“You know I’m not going to say it. Since we were trainees all you do is tease me every time you know something I don’t or when you are right. I know you love being right but now is not the time Yeri” I say causing her to laugh. She sips her tea fixing the way she sat in front of the window. “You know me so well” she teased again. I rolled my eyes looking away from her and back at the flowers.

“Has he called you?” She asked this time being serious. I shook my head. “No, and I don’t think he will. He’s trying to protect me. That’s what he told me before he left” I said tapping my finger on my mug. She nodded. “I guess that’s sweet” she shrugged.

“Yeri” I called.

“Yes?” She asked.

“What was it like for you? When everyone found out about you and Jeong Ho?” I asked hoping her story will help heal the aching in my body and heart.

She sighed leaning over to place her mug on a nearby lamp table. Once she placed the mug down she made herself comfortable again bringing the blanket back up to cover her legs. “Well for starters it wasn’t easy. You remember what happened. The fans left us, because of me. They stopped supporting us, they gave up on us. They didn’t love us anymore and why? Because I and Jeongho fell in love” She shook her head.

“What me and Jeongho have is real and at the time it was still real. It was so real that I gave up my life for him. I had always wanted to be a singer and I still do sing, but you know I always dreamed of having a family one day. Jeongho could give me that, he did give me that. Now I have one beautiful child and another one on the way. I didn’t just give music up because of Jeongho. I choose to be with Jeongho because it was my choice. It’s my life and I get to decide when I stop singing. When I stop performing. I get to decide who comes into my life and how long they stay. I decide the person I want to be and the story I want to tell. No one should tell you who you are and what you should be doing. Y/n if you love Taeyong then be with him. Make the music you like and that you’re proud of you. And those who listen will listen and those who will refuse to support you well they can leave. You have talent Y/n, but just because you’re good at something doesn’t mean you should live for it. You deserve to be happy just like everyone else” She paused for a moment taking my hand in hers.

“So I guess that begs the question, what are you gonna do? What are you gonna do with you’re life? Are you going to hide in the shadows safe but miserable and alone or are you gonna fly high risky but un regrettable and free?” She kept her eyes locked with mine and determined to look into her eyes. I stared back into hers with the same look in mine. I know exactly what I have to do. I stood up letting go of her hand.

“Be careful,” she warned. “Once you do this there’s no turning back” I sighed, “It’s worth it. If they can’t love me at my worst then how do I know they love me at my best” I said before I walked out, putting on my shoes and heading straight to my company.

—-

“Y/n I don’t understand. You don’t want to resign? I thought you liked working with us?” My boss said to me shocked by the drop-by I made and the current news. “I think it would be best if I didn’t resign,” I said again sternly. He wasn’t going to change my mind. “But Y/n,” he came around his desk standing in front of me. “We can take care of you here. We can give you anything you need. Do you want more money? It’s yours!” He said trying to persuade me. I shook my head. “My answer is no. I don’t need you to take care of me. Besides, many other companies want me, I don’t need your money” I said grabbing my purse and walking out the company door. My manager followed behind me handing in his letter of resignation. He had planned to stick beside me, especially after everything that happened with my apartment. Walking outside all the employees watched as I left the entertainment company. As we walked outside news trucks parked in front of the tall building. News anchors leaped out of their vehicles dying to catch on me on camera since this was my first public sighting in a while regarding my old home.

“Y/n! Y/n!” They shouted my name holding microphones and running towards me.

“Y/n any news regarding you’re Gangnam home?”

“Y/n please look here!” Even the paparazzi arrived.

“Y/n tell us where are things with you and Taeyong? Are you dating?

Did you break up?” A news reporter asked.

“Y/n tell us where are you staying now?” Another asked.

“Y/n there are rumors you are leaving you’re company is that true?”

I nodded. “I am refusing to resign yes,” I said. The news reporters gathered around even more seeing that I had responded to one out of a thousand questions. My new security team started to surround me making sure I was safe from the forming crowd around me. I tried to walk through all the people keeping my sunglasses on and close to my face. More people including curious predestines came to see exactly what was happening. “Y/n why did you resign?!” The news reporters continued to shout over each other.

“Stop for a moment,” I told my manager. He widened his eyes. “Are you sure? It’s too dangerous we have to keep going. The car isn’t far from us” he said concerned. I shook my head touching his shoulder. “This will only be a moment” he bit his lip looking over at the guards. “Make sure no one puts their hands on her, you understand?” They nodded making sure the news camera could see me but the people still couldn’t touch me.

“Y/n please tell us why did you resign,” the news reporter asked holding a microphone to me. “Is this live?” I asked pointing to the large camera in front of us. The man nodded still holding the mic up to me. I took it from his hands thanking him. He look confused glancing at his cameraman and then back at me. “Um I’m supposed to, “ he said I shook my head. “Not right now you’ve done enough,” I said before picking up the mic to my lips. “Hello everyone my name is Y/L Y/N. Now I don’t know whose watching, frankly it doesn’t even matter if one person is watching” I looked over at my manager who gave me a thumbs up. He let out a shaky breath nodding his head reminding me that everything would be okay. Turning back to the camera I swallowed the lump in my throat. “But there’s something I need to say”

Here goes nothing I thought to myself.

“For those who don’t know me, you’re going to get to know me today. For those who do well, you will be reminded of who I am today. I am an idol. A K-pop idol. What does that mean? Well, it means I’m a performer who sings in Korean. I was once part of a K-pop group with five other girls who also sang in Korean. Now I’m a soloist, my group disbanded a couple of years ago. You may be wondering why? It wasn’t because we fought or because we hated each other. We loved each other, we were like a family. It was because we believed we had no choice. A former member of mine Kim Yeri fell in love and ultimately it was her downfall. The fans ripped us apart why?

Because Yeri chose on her own. She chose to be in love than to listen to what others said about her. Now she’s inspired me to do the same thing. For a long time, I was scared of letting everyone down. Paranoid no one would listen to my music or my story because they would hate what I had to say” I paused for a moment. Everyone around me remained silent. The news reporter leaned over to the cameraman motioning with his fingers to keep rolling. I took off my sunglasses squinting my eyes from the sun.

“Now I’ve realized I can’t be afraid anymore. I can’t let fear stop me from doing the things I love. And what is it that I love? Well I love music, I love art, I love the fall, I love my friends and family. I love wearing my hair down, I love eating as much food as I want, I love to put on makeup, I love to box, I hate doing pilates and I hate wearing clothes that don’t fit me and I hate not being able to openly love the man that I love. I hate being perfect in you’re image when no matter how hard I try I can’t achieve it. I am not just someone or something you can tell me what to do and when to do it. I am not a dog that you can order around or control. I am a person and It’s about time you all begin to see me like one. As I person I will make mistakes, I will be afraid, I will cry, I will get angry and I will fall in love. It’s what makes me human just like all of you. So after this, if you wish to no longer support me then that’s fine. I don’t need people who only love me and that were designed to make Me feel special. Those who see me and hear me well I hope you like the real me. Thank you everyone, goodbye” I say walking away. The news reporters continue to follow me to my car. Cameras flashed everywhere around us shouting my name.

“Y/n look over here!”

“Amazing speech!”

“Talk to us. What does this mean for you and Taeyong?”

“Y/n please just look right here!” They continued to shout even when I put my sunglasses back on and my manager opened my car door so that I could sit inside. The door shouted and their howls began muffled. I sighed taking my glasses off. My manager came around the other side of the car and sat opposite me. He shut the car door telling the driver to drive off. Once we drove off and away from the people I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. My manager took a water bottle from outside his bag handing it to me to drink. I took the cold water from his hands letting it slide down my throat. He watched as I sipped on the water trying not to spill it with my shakey hands. I placed it on the side of the door closing the top. “How did I do?” I asked. He nodded looking puzzled. “I’m sure everything is gonna be okay,” he said. “I’m going to check Twitter,” he said opening his phone.

His eyes widened almost dropping his phone. He let out a gasp causing me to lean over the seatbelt preventing me from moving any further. “What is it?” I frantically asked. “You’re followers, they went down,” he leaned over and showed me the phone. I went from having three million followers to two million followers in minutes. I sighed my heart stinging a little. It hurt people who didn’t want to get to know me. People disliked me and they didn’t even know me. I guess that still makes me human.

“Wait a minute” he began refreshing the page. His eyes widened his glasses slightly falling off his face. He picked them back up the bridge of his nose showing me his phone. “Look” was all he said. This time less enthusiastic I leaned over to look at his phone. However this time I was truly shocked. I took off my glasses watching as each time Mr.Jung refreshed more and more people began to follow me. My followers had dropped to two million and now I was sitting with fifteen million followers. “Mr.Jung, what does this mean?” I asked my heart racing. “It means the people chose you,” he said, “I think it’s time you announce it,” he said pointing to my phone in my hands. I nodded opening up Twitter and tweeting the following.

Y/nforpresident- Hello everyone and new people. Thank you so much for your love and support. If you want to continue to hear me well good news! Tonight I’m dropping an album that will include thirteen songs. It will be available on Apple Music, Spotify, YouTube, SoundCloud, and Amazon Music. And to give you a little spoiler, it’s nothing like you’ve heard/seen me before. My new album is called Controversy. See you at midnight! 😉 I sent my tweet, now we wait. 11:30 pm “You ready?” Yeri asked me. I had invited all my friends to come to my little own watch party in my new house. Most of my family couldn’t make it since they live farther away, but they are still supporting me all waiting for the album to drop to listen and stream it. I nodded my head Yeri stood behind me watching the tv in front of me holding a countdown for my new music video, I stared and directed myself. Thought the rest of the party songs off my album could be heard playing as well as other songs of mine including some from my girl group days.

More of my former members showed up in support telling me that they were finally ready to put music out again. I smiled proud of them all taking each of them in my arms. “Wait let’s take a picture!” My former member Emily said with her Australian accent. All the girls agreed surrounding the window that lead to a beautiful garden I planted once I settled in. We all posed for a group photo each of us posting the picture to our socials. “Awww someone said, “Miss this group, this is a reunion I was waiting for you!” My former member Haewon said. We were all awed taking a couple more photos together.

“Look it’s almost time!” Hoseok shouted. That’s right I’m friends with Bts. Well looked towards the clock on the large tv. Five minutes left until my music video and album would drop for the whole world to hear. I held a red solo cup in my hand watching the countdown from five minutes to four. “Are you excited?” I looked over my shoulder and saw Jaehyun. I nodded letting out a little shiver. “I’m both excited and nervous, is that even possible?” We both chuckled cheering together and taking a drink from our cups. “To controversy” I smiled bringing our cups together “To controversy” we smiled taking a sip of the alcohol.

“He’s here by the way,” Jaehyun said. “He wasn’t sure if he should come up so he’s been waiting outside on you’re porch” I shook my head in disbelief. “Wait he’s just been waiting outside?” He nodded letting out a small chuckle. “Yup. He doesn’t want to ruin the night for you or something like that so he said he’s supporting you in secret where people won’t judge him” I sighed rolling my eyes and handing him my cup. “Can you dump this for me? I’m going to go talk to him” I said holding back a smirk. Jaehyun nodded taking the cup from my hands. “Of course”

I made my way past all the people heading to my front door. From the window, I could see Taeyong sitting on a bench holding his phone in his hands. He was all dressed up like everyone else inside. He looked gorgeous as always and I just wanted to march out there and ruin all his hair and makeup. But I controlled myself, this wasn’t the time. I unlocked my door stepping out causing Taeyong to perk his head up.

“Hi” is all he said standing up to his feet and stuffing his phone in his jean pocket. “I wasn’t sure if I should come in or not. I don’t know if I’m allowed in”

“Why would you be? You’re the reason I’m able to do all of this” I said. “I am?” He said confused. I nodded, “I mean you’re part of the reason yeah. You helped me realize that I didn’t need to keep protecting myself from the world. I just needed to live. You wear part of that living. Living is all about the things you do whether alone or with the people you love. Taeyong,” I walked over to him gesturing my hand for him to take. He hesitatingly took it in his. Once my fingers touched he relaxed taking my hand in his. “Taeyong I love you and I’m not afraid to say it out loud anymore where people can hear. I want people to know about us, but only if you want that too”

His lips sat tightly on his face forming a line. He nodded his head pulling me closer to him. “If it means I can be with you then yes. I’ll follow you anywhere you go, even to the ends of the Earth” he said leaning in to kiss me. We held each other close kissing like we hadn’t seen each other in decades. He smiled into the kiss pulling me closer to him and my hands found their way past his neck and into his silvered locks.

However, our kiss was interrupted by a knock at the door. “I hate to interrupt,” Yeri began. “But it’s time!” She squealed excitedly. We both smiled following behind her, holding each other's hands. “Okay twenty seconds,” I heard Jungwoo say. We walked further inside making our way to the couch. Yeri made some space for me and him to sit and we sat down right in the middle facing the tv. Everyone gathered around waiting for the drop of my new music video.

“Ten seconds!” Joy said causing everyone to begin to count down. “Ten” “Nine” “This is it” Yeri whispered to me. “Eight” “Seven” “You’re gonna do so well” Taeyong whispered to my kissing me below my ear. “I’m so proud of you” he whispered. “Six” “Five” “Four” “Three” “Two” “One!!!” Everyone shouted now becoming quiet as the screen went black and my video What we do in The Shadows began to play.

——-

“Okay, you ready to see?” Taeyong asked still wearing a towel around his waist. My hopes of ruining his hair and makeup came true last night and now he continued to walk around my home in just a towel, such a tease.

I nodded putting my coffee mug down. “Yes I’m ready to see it,” I said Taeyong walked over to me holding an iPad. Leaning over so his wet skin could touch mine I took in a breath controlling myself from just throwing the iPad across the room and having him on the counter. “Yay!” He shouted. “Everyone loves it. That’s a relief I was so scared for you” he said I nodded holding my hand over my chest. “Me too. I thought people would hate it but it turns out people love it!” He nodded proudly smiling big. “Yea all the comments are about you speaking you’re truth and not being afraid to be who you are. It’s inspiring Y/n and you inspire me” he leaned over and kissed me. I pulled him closer causing him to place the iPad on the table turning his body to face me.

"You're not tired?" he teased referring to last night. He smirked bringing his lips closer to mine and kissing me. I smiled shaking my head. He pulled me closer to him by my waist. I giggled his hair tickling my forehead. He smiled lovingly watching the tiny creases in my face form under my eyes and by my lips when I smiled. He moved a piece of hair out of my face keeping me in his arms.

"I'm going to marry you someday. I don't know why I felt like saying that or feeling this way but I just know. Someday you're going to be my wife" he said staring into my eyes. He had such beautiful eyes, they were big and brown and sparkled every time I stared into them. His eyes, his lips, and his body all made me feel at home. I leaned up kissing him, this time less heated. Replacing the passion with a soft embrace instead. The kiss was sweet and light. We weren't rushing it or trying to rip each other's clothes or lack of. We just kissed and it felt nice. Kissing Taeyong in the kitchen on a beautiful sunny Saturday morning felt right. He let go picking me up and placing me on the counter.

He knelt down facing me, lifting my silk nightgown past my knees and up to my waist. My finger found its way to my bottom lip playing with the plumped pink skin as I watched Taeyong pull down my black panties tossing them to the side. He smiled up at me leaning closer between my thighs. He kissed my inner right thigh and then made his way to my left sucking and biting the skin creating a small mark. I sucked in a breath one of my hands supporting my balance on the white counter and the other finding his hair. He smelled me groaning and closing his eyes to savour the smell of me.

"You smell so good, baby. Can I taste you, please?" He pleaded remaining on his knees watching as my wetness dripped out of me and down my leg making its way to the floor. Taeyong let out a low groan, "That was hot baby. Look how wet you are. Do you need Bu? I can help you" He said not even meeting my eyes, he just watched my pussy clench around nothing. He licked his lips silently begging for me to say yes. I nodded my head eagerly, "Yes please" is all I said and all he needed to hear.

He leaped straight into action wasting no time licking a long stripe on my pussy. He wanted to take his time with me. Prove his love to me with his words and his tongue. He spread my folds his tongue abusing my clit after I begged him to go faster. He groaned against my core devouring me and saving every taste on his tongue so he has something to remember when he is alone. "You taste so good baby" He praised his fingers making their way to my hole. He brought his two fingers to my lips, they slipped past my mouth allowing me to suck on them.

He removed his fingers from my mouth bringing them back down to my pussy finding their way back to my hole. They easily slipped inside me, and my hands left his hair to continue to balance myself. "Baby if you want to you can lay down, I'll take care of you" He purred. I shook my head taking my bottom lip between my teeth He continued to pump his fingers inside me. "I want…I want to watch" I moaned. He smirked leaning his head back down to eat my pussy.

"Bu I'm gonna cum" I moaned opening my eyes to see him still pumping his long fingers inside me and his plump lips still eating me. I moan again my head falling back. Taeyong's fingers reached my G-spot bringing me closer to my orgasm. My fingers clenched around him repeatedly. "Baby can I put it in?" he asked watching his fingers disappear inside me. He looked up into my eyes begging me. I nodded not saying a word. I couldn't talk, I couldn't think It just all felt too good.

He slowly pulled his fingers out of me, stood up, and quickly removed the towel. "Should I get a condom?" he asked. I shook my head. "I want to feel you and besides I'm on the pill" he nodded stroking his dick and bringing it up to slide through my folds, using to circle my clit a little. He groaned feeling my wetness mixed with his pre-cum. "Taeyong please," I moaned. He brought his cock down to my wet dripping hole and slowly slid it inside me.

Letting me adjust to him his whole body shuddered feeling me clench and unclench around him. "Baby please if you keep doing that I'll finish too quick" he groaned. "I'm gonna move okay?" I nodded watching his dick start to move in and out of me. He moved slowly at first and I understand he wants to take his time today but he feels too good in me to move at this pace. He can make love to me by fucking me. "Taeyong please move faster" I moaned. He began to pick up his pace moving his hips faster and a lot harder than before snapping his hips into mine. Holding onto my waist he leaned down to my ear.

"I want to make love to you baby. I wanted to savor you and make you feel special because you deserve it" he said softly in my ear. "But I guess my baby wants to be fucked and if that's what makes her feel good then I will do it" He kissed underneath my ear sucking on the skin as his hips continued to snap hard and quick into mine. He laid me down flat on the counter spreading my legs open even more. His fingers found their way to my clit moving the small bundle of nerves in a circle.

My arms leaned to top touch him. Holding his bicep and his shoulders. His arms flexed as he continued to fuck into me his veins on full display. "Bu I'm gonna cum" I moaned. He nodded losing himself inside me. "Cum baby cum for Bu," he said continuing to fuck into me quickly and hard. I came all over his dick soaking it. I could hear him slip in and out of me our juices mixing. His brows furrowed as he focused on meeting his high. I clenched and unclenched around him causing him to let out loud groans and moans. His eyes squeezed shut and his jaw slacked as he chased his orgasm.

"Taeyong be good to me and open your eyes. I want to see how cute you look when you cum" He opened his eyes staring into my mine. My cheeks flushed tinted with a shade of red. My hair stuck to my forehead, my body glistened in sweat. "I wanna be good…good for you" he moaned releasing himself inside me. Once he came he stood inside me for a moment both of us catching our breath.

Eventually, he slipped out of me watching some of his cum slip out of me. He leaned over grabbed some paper towels and cleaned him and myself. He picked his towel back up from the floor taking my head and my nightgown falling back down to cover myself. He guided me to the bathroom by my bedroom. "I'm not done taking care of you," He said opening the bathroom door and closing it behind us.

Later that day.

"Y/n you have been in the news a lot recently. Some people are saying good things and some are saying bad things. How does that make you feel?" the lady asked me holding a microphone in my direction. I stood in front of a podium at a press conference for my the release of my new album, What we do in The Shadows.

I sighed looking over to Yeri and my manager who gave me a thumbs up. Jeongho sat next to her holding their baby in his arms. I smiled at them and they smiled back. Taeyong sat on the other side of Yeri keeping his eyes on me mouthing "You got this". I smiled at him too. I turned back around taking out a breath. I have to be confident. I can do this.

"It makes me feel unsurprised. As an idol my name is always going to be tossed around in the media whether i've done something postive or negative. This is the life I signed up for is what most people have told me which is try, to become an idol was my choice. Was I ready for this "excitement" No" I shook my head. "But," I pointed my index finger up. "I've been in this buisness for a long time. It's going to take a lot to scare or surpise me"

Once I finished answering more people can raised their hands. I picked a man in the front wearing brown.

"Y/n can you tell us where your relationship with Taeyong stands? The people want to know are you too involved romantically?" He said holding his microphone up. A lady part of my staff went up to him ushering him to either ask another question or sit down. I leaned over whispering to her, "It's alright" She looked back unsure of what to do. "Are you sure?" I nodded. She let go of the guy's shoulder allowing him to settle back in his seat. He picked his microphone back up facing it towards me.

"In a perfect world, you wouldn't ask me this question. You would ask me a question about the album or the music video. You'd ask me about my art. Except we don't live in a perfect world and instead, you choose to ask me about my personal relationships. Why? Is my life that interesting to you and everyone watching at home. I don't broadcast my life to the world ever and even if I did what makes you think you have the right to ask me such a question? My relationship with Taeyong is my relationship with him. It's not yours, or hers" I pointed to a random woman in the audience. "And it's not the people at home seeing me now. This information will not make your life better or worse, but I'll tell you this. If you can and this goes for all of you. If you can give me a good reason as to why my business is your business then and only then I will tell you"

The man and the rest of the audience remained silent. Everyone blinked dumb-founded. They all looked around at eachother. Yeri had a smuge look on her face like she wanted to laugh in the faces of all the people in the crowd.

"No response? Well then I guess you have your answer" I smiled at the man who sat back down in his seat quietly.

"Now I will not be taking any further questions unless they are about the album, if not then I will leave" Everyone stood back up yelling and shouting to be picked. Cameras flashed while taking my photos, I was definitely making headlines tonight. I smiled at one of the cameras waving my hand. Turning back to the crowd I called upon a woman wearing black.

"Who inspired your song, What We Do In the Shadows?" she asked holding her mic up.d

The people never learn. I shook my head getting ready to leave.

"Wait! Y/n!" a man wearing yellow called. "Yes?" I asked.

"Okay go ahead" I waved my hand.

"In you're song What We Do In the Shadows there's a line you wrote. The line is "And even if it's over no one would ever know. It's like walking down a dark alley way and know ones you're there. No one can find you or here you. Only the moon knows the stories you tell at night and when the sun comes up that alley way is full with light" he pauses for a moment.

"These lyrics are raw and relatable. Was that you're intent to tell you the truth with this album?" he asked. I smiled.

"That was my intent. I wanted a piece of the real me to show. I thought comparing myself to a dark and scary alley to a peaceful walk way in the morning would show just how good of an actress I can be when it comes to you all. Good eye" I complimented.

"I have a question," I said to him. He nodded, "Yes?"

"How old are you?" I asked. The boy raised a brow confused pulling back his mic and closing his notebook.

"Umm twenty-one" He said unsure of what else to say.

"You're young. I like you keep up the good work" I said walking off the podium. People followed behind me security blocking the reporters away from me. Photographers use this opportunity to snap as many photos as me as I can.

There may be hope for the future of music. I smiled put on my sunglasses walking outside, Yeri and Taeyong not too far behind me.

Fin

I KNOW THIS WAS LONG but I hope you still enjoyed it. I'm sorry this one took so long I just got really busy with family and school, but I took some time today to finish and edit this story. If there are any errors I missed, please don't hesitate to tell me. My computer glitched while trying to save everything, so I had to re-edit and may have missed some spots. I doubled checked and it looks fine but you never know. Anyways I hope you enjoyed it.

Also, I know this story ended on a happy note but this is a work of fiction. This is unfortunately not realistic for any idol in this industry. Now, please be careful about what YOU say to someone. Words hurt and we need to be mindful of what we say to others. Check up on idols, friends, family, etc. Take care of each other and yourself.

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intheticklecloset · 3 years ago

Text

The Great Academia Road Trip, Part 2 (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

Summary: On their first morning away from home, Deku and Aoyama meet in the early hours and wind up passing the time waiting for the others to wake up in an unexpected and playful way.

A/N: I feel like a genius for finding a way to combine these two prompts. I also consider myself a genius for finding a temporary solution to my "I hate titles" problem. Hahaha! Enjoy!

Word Count: 1,461

Part 1

~~~

“Good morning, Midoriya.”

Deku turned, smiling when he saw his sparkly blonde friend entering the bathroom they shared with the rest of the guys in their class. It was their first full day of activities on this training/vacation road trip they were on, and – as usual – Deku had been up earlier than most everyone else just out of habit. He’d thought to go ahead and get dressed and wash up before the rest of the guys woke and caused chaos with their limited space, so he was pleasantly surprised when his quiet morning was interrupted by one of his more relaxed classmates.

“Morning, Aoyama,” he replied. “Did you sleep well?”

“Oui.” Aoyama nodded, stretching his arms above him before turning on one of the faucets and splashing his face with cold water. “You?”

“Pretty good, actually.” Deku smiled. Thanks to Kacchan’s random tickle attack last night, any uneasiness he may have felt about sleeping in a new place had been all but eradicated. “I’m not sure what time we’re allowed in the lobby. Do you?”

“No, but if we are quiet I’m sure we couldn’t get into trouble for just looking to see, you know?”

“Right.”

Deku stepped outside to give Aoyama some privacy, and when they were both ready to go, they made their way down the hall of sleeping classmates and other hotel guests to the stairwell, where they poked their head down to see if anyone was moving about in the lobby yet.

It looked astonishingly empty.

“Perhaps it is too early?” Aoyama suggested.

Deku hummed thoughtfully, frowning. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s only an hour before we’re supposed to be up; don’t you think at least one of the teachers would be up by now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well…” Deku glanced around, then pointed to the landing halfway down the stairs where they’d be between the two floors. “Why don’t we sit down there until someone else shows up? That way we can talk without disturbing anybody, and when the lobby opens up we’ll see movement.”

Aoyama nodded. “Good idea.” He stretched again. “I slept well, but my back is sore.”

“Too used to the beds in our dorms?”

“Oui. In comparison, these bedrolls we use during travel are made of concrete.”

Deku chuckled. “They are a little harder, huh?” He watched as Aoyama stretched his arms above his head yet again, tilting from side to side to try and ease the soreness in his back. Deku felt an incredible urge to tickle him while he was exposed, but forced himself to stay put.

Then Aoyama groaned and placed both hands on his lower back. “Midoriya, I don’t suppose I could ask you for a favor?”

“Of course!”

“Would you mind massaging my back a little?” the blonde asked sheepishly, unable to make eye contact. “The muscles are so tense and I don’t think stretching is going to help.”

Deku smiled. “Totally. Here, lie down on your stomach. I’ll do what I can.” Once Aoyama had done as he was asked, Deku gently felt around his lower back, searching out the tense spots his friend was talking about. It didn’t take long at all to find them. “Whoa, Aoyama, you’ve got some serious knots of tension. What did you do? Sleep like a pretzel?”

“Some things cannot be explained, mon ami.”

Deku chuckled again. “Okay, well, just let me know if anything hurts too much. I’ll try and ease the pain for you.”

“Merci.”

For several minutes, Deku worked gently on Aoyama’s back, easing the knots of tension as best he could, massaging the area to ease the pain. He worked for almost ten minutes before checking in. “How’s that? Any better?”

“Much better,” Aoyama sighed contentedly. “I owe you one.”

“Not at all.” Deku hesitated, that urge to tickle him rising up again. Now that he was no longer in pain, it was definitely tempting…

Oh, what the heck? Deku lightly scribbled over Aoyama’s sides, grinning when the blonde yelped and slapped a hand over his mouth, rolling into his side with wide eyes.

“M-Midoriya?”

“Yes?” Deku asked innocently, slipping his hands under the blonde’s shirt to scratch at his lower ribs. “Are you still feeling pain?”

“N-No, y-you – Midoriya, stohohohop…” Aoyama let a couple of giggles loose, rolling onto his back and trying to sit up.

Deku straddled him. “But I think I feel more tension. Right here.” He kneaded his thumbs into the sides of his friend’s belly, right near his navel. When Aoyama’s stomach clenched with suppressed giggles, the green-haired boy nodded seriously. “Yep, there’s definitely tension. Let me work on that, too.”

“N-Nohohohoho! Midoriya!” Aoyama used on hand to cover his mouth and the other to try and push Deku away. “Thehehehere’s no tehehehension! Y-You’re tihihickling me! Plehehehease!”

“Tickling?” Deku exclaimed as though he’d never heard the word. “Is that why you’re giggling? Oh, that makes sense. Definitely.”

“Stohohohohohohop!”

“But I like making my friends laugh,” Deku teased, shooting one hand up into Aoyama’s underarm. Aoyama screeched and finally released his mouth, using both hands to push his assailant away as laughter poured from him freely. “Yeah, just like that!”

“Plehehehehehehease! Midoriya, stohohohohohop!”

Deku beamed, then climbed off of him, patting his knee. “Sorry, Aoyama. But you kept stretching in front of me and then you asked me for a massage and I really couldn’t resist.”

Aoyama kept giggling, catching his breath, and when he looked at Deku, there was a wicked glint to his eye that made the freckled boy both nervous and excited.

“You said you like making your friends laugh? Well, so do I.” The blonde grabbed Deku’s hip, and Deku slapped both hands over his mouth to keep from letting out a scream of laughter, falling back against the wall with Aoyama quickly climbing into his lap, trapping him so effectively he couldn’t move at all. He could only sit there and take it, and the sparkly teen was pressing his thumbs into Deku’s hips so deliberately.

“Please!” Deku squealed, trying his best to stay quiet as he dug his heels into the carpet and wiggled back and forth against the wall, fighting between his desire to cover up his boisterous laughter and his desire to push Aoyama away – or tickle him back again. “P-Plehehehease, not thehehehere, I’ll whahahahake everyone up!”

“Then you shouldn’t have tickled me while I was helpless to fight back,” Aoyama teased, grinning.

“But you wheheheheheren’t helpless - Aoyama nohohohohohohohoho!” Deku arched his back as much as possible when he found the hip bone, forcing the green-haired boy to thrash against the wall, finally pushing at Aoyama with desperate laughter bursting from his lungs. “PLEHEHEHEHEASE, NO, I’LL WAHAHAHAHAHAKE THE WHOLE HOTEL – AOYAMAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

“Good morning, you two.”

The third voice put an abrupt end to the boys’ play, drawing their attention to the top of the stairs, where Shinsou stood with one hand in his jeans pocket as he began his descent.

“Sh-Shinsou!” Deku yelped, pushing Aoyama away now that he was distracted. The blonde tumbled off in a heap. “G-Good morning!”

“Having fun, Midoriya?” the purple-haired boy smirked, walking past him without waiting for an answer, continuing into the lobby.

“I – w-wait! We don’t know if we’re allowed—”

“Didn’t you read the handout?” Shinsou looked back up at the both of them once he’d reached the base of the stairs. “We’re allowed in the lobby after six in the morning, even if we’re not required to be up by seven. They start serving breakfast at six.”

Deku and Aoyama exchanged surprised glances.

“I take it neither of you have eaten yet?”

“No,” said Aoyama. “We were waiting for someone else to show up.”

Shinsou was silent for a long moment, looking between the two of them before his eyes settled on Deku. “Well…I’m here now. Do you…want to join me for breakfast?”

Deku leapt to his feet, nearly pulling Aoyama up with him. “Of course!”

Shinsou nodded, then kept walking.

Aoyama followed Deku down the rest of the stairs, but before they could get too far into the lobby, he pinched Deku’s ribs, making him squeak. “Just getting the last tickle in, Midoriya. You’d better be careful who you choose to tickle fight with.” The blonde winked at him. “I may not go so easy on you next time.”

That was going easy? Deku thought, a thrill shooting through him. He could still feel ghost tickles in his hips where the blonde’s hands had been just a minute before. Still, he couldn’t let Aoyama think he was intimidated. “I’d like to see you try and beat me in a tickle fight, Aoyama.”

The blonde smirked at him just as they caught up to Shinsou in the dining room. “Challenge accepted, mon ami.”

~~~

Part 3

#fanfiction #tickle fic #boku no hero #my hero academia #bnha #mha #road trip #aoyama #izuku #midoriya #deku #massage #keep quiet #playful #teasing #tickling #ticklish #tickle

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realcube · 4 years ago

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LEAVING MIDORIYA

part one (nsfw) | part two

tw// mentions of toxic relationships, drinking & mention of a bombing

honestly, if you were given enough time you probably could’ve figured it out on your own — without the assistance of a psychiatrist — but exactly one appointment later, you were left with the disheartening realisation that you weren’t having ‘bad dreams’ and the marks on your body weren’t inflicted by yourself during slumber. eventually, the fact set in that it was your sweet, gentle fiancée who was the cause of all these things.

this whole time, you were under the impression that you were the problem, that there was a malicious part of you that wanted to paint deku out to be some sort of villain; and now you were finally made aware that a villain is exactly what he is.

it was a hard conclusion to come to but the initial wave of relief you felt was enough to make you act on it quickly, as the more you waited around and let the fact sink in, the more you doubted whether or not to take action. but reasoning isn’t what you need right now, you just need to get away from him.

where will you go? you had no idea, but any where away from him is good enough.

midoriya didn’t even get enough time to try fill your head with even more lies. you came marching into the apartment with the intention of ignoring everything he says and simply pack your stuff so you can leave. no matter how much he screamed, begged or yelled, it was like trying to hold a conversation with a brick wall hence he eventually gave in, leaving you to collect your things in peace as there was clearly no way he was going to get through to you.

you left without another word — not even a goodbye — and you were sure to sneak your engagement ring out with you. although it made you sick to look at, realistically you might need the cash since as soon as you stepped outside your shared apartment with your shit in bags, you were officially homeless.

no need to worry though, you had arranged to stay the night at a friend’s house until tomorrow morning, then you could catch the train to your parent’s. from there, you’d stay with them until you manage to find a new apartment within your price range.

one problem; your friend just texted you saying that they have to retract their offer because their landlord doesn’t allow over two people to sleep in the same dorm, and they already have a roommate. very unfortunate but hey, what can you do? plus, they apologised and offered to pay for your hotel but you reassured them that their money wouldn’t be necessary.

now sitting outside your old apartment complex, scrolling through your phone looking for the nearest hotel. since both you and deku were well-paid pro-heroes and bought a penthouse in a rather affluent area, it was no surprise that most of the hotels that were reasonably close were from 4-5 stars.

although a 5-star hotel room for one night really wasn’t necessary, the post-breakup adrenaline was telling you otherwise. it also told you that treating yourself to a shopping spree, getting wine drunk at a bar and then shuffling back to the hotel with mcdonald’s take-out was a great idea!

those emotional discussions you had with complete strangers must’ve really gotten to you because when you opened your front camera to take some pictures, you immediately grimaced at the sight of your mascara staining your cheeks. you were lazing around in the hotel lobby surrounded by name brand gift bags — waiting for your room key — looking like that? how embarrassing.

quickly wiping away your tears, you put on a pair of designer sunglasses you brought earlier to shield your smudged eye-makeup from the world. not that you cared what anyone in this damn lobby thought of you anyway, you were only going to be here for one night, after that you would never see most of these people again. or at least, that is what you thought.

out of the corner of your eye, you saw flashing lights which prompted you to take out your earbuds but once you did, you instantly regretted it as all you heard was screaming and yelling from the entrance. looking up, you noticed an average-looking guy wearing a skull tank top resembling the fashion sense of a middle schooler, being followed by a mob of screaming fans, paparazzi and gossip channel reporters.

“dynamight! thank you for everything!”

“you deserve to be number one!”

“we are here at scene, pro-hero dynamight has just been seen entering what appears to be his five star accommodation, wearing his signature blac--”

the loud noises were suddenly muffled as the doorman shut the entrance behind him, leaving things just as they were, except now there was a muscular blond man encircled by bodyguards staring daggers at you.

in any other situation, you would’ve just tried your best to ignore him but some of that liquid courage was beginning to get to you, so your reaction was to snarl right back at him, yelling across the hall, “take a picture, why don’t ya? it’ll last longer.”

only upon processing your reply did the man finally snap out of his trance and storm up to, being hastily followed by his guards who looked as though they were ready to throw down at any given moment, so of course you cowered back in your seat, apologies waiting on the tip of your tongue, ready to spill until his face was hovering centimetres away from yours.

your throat ran dry at his unexpected action, your eyes scanning over his chiselled features through the tint of your glasses. in a turn of events, you were now the one speechlessly staring at him. then, a deep chuckle erupted from his throat, causing the shock to show on your expression.

“i knew i recognised you! you’re stupid deku’s girlfriend- fiancée or whatever; i saw the invite for your wedding in my mail and i just got a look at your face before i threw it away. small world.” the blond continued to laugh, talking to you as if you were an old friend of his despite the fact you’ve never seen him before in your life, “anyway, you like a hot fuckin’ mess. where’s deku?”

why was he talking to you so casually? and how dare he say that!

“first of all,” you started, peering over your glasses to gaze at his face without the rose tint but to no avail, you still had no idea who this man is. using the soles of your palm, you pushed him away by the shoulders as he was a bit too close for comfort, but that resulted in all his guard looking at you with murderous glints in their eyes. “deku and i broke up--”

“when?” he cut you off

“let me finish.” you glared at him, fixing your sunglasses, “we broke up this morning. secondly, who the fuck are you?”

the man looked like he was ready to burst out laughing once again until he had a visible realisation, “eh, well, we’ve never met before but i’m sure deku has told you about me. if not, you’ve probably seen me in the news; i saved around a thousa--”

“no, i’ve not watched the news for, like, the past six months.” this time, you cut him off with a mischievous smirk which you tried your best to conceal.

“bitch! let me fuckin’ finish!” he barked, then had a sudden change in demeanour as he let out a sigh, momentarily silent as he scanned the surrounding area, “i’m bakugo. kastuki.”

your reply of a blank stare spoke a thousand words.

“y’know, dynamight.”

who?

“the number two hero!”

nothing.

“the one who saved that whole airline from blowing up just a week ago! c’mon, it was all over the fuckin’ news!”

“you look like a hotter version of my old maths teacher. oh, and i’m (y/n) (l/n).” was the only verbal response he was able to get out of you, even after all his explaining.

“why do you i feel like you are sayin’ that just to piss me off?” he muttered to himself through gritted teeth, followed by a sharp inhale which you assumed was an attempt to calm himself down. his carnelian eyes darted around the room, halting once he raised his arm to view his watch. his brows knitted together as he read the time, forming a concentrated look which was short-lived as his face was quick to relax, emphasised by a slight shrug as if to say ‘i’ve got time’, before slumping down on the couch next to you.

“so why did you and shitty deku break up?”

“i may be a bit tipsy but i’m not just gonna tell that sorta stuff to a complete stranger.” each syllable felt like it had to be forced out one at a time, but you’d rather that than slur you speech as bakugo seemed like the type to poke fun at you for it.

“i just wanna know how badly he fucked up this time.” bakugo smirked, propping his elbow up on the back of the couch to turn and look at you, “eh, i don’t think we’ll be strangers for long.”

there was a certain purr in this voice which sent blood rushing to your cheeks as you never expect someone like him to come on so strong. not that you were complaining, i mean, being in his presence during a time like this felt like a gift from god but you weren’t going to let him know that. it’d only add to his already massive ego so you decided to ignore his suggestive behaviour, opting to show disinterest instead, “hm, you think?”

it was almost comical how fast bakugo’s cocky smirk fell into a frown. honestly, he wasn’t used to people that he flirts with rejecting him, considering that he rarely ever makes moves on anyone. so, now what did he do? due to the foreign nature of this situation, bakugo felt as though he was left with no choice but to bargain, since he’s far from a quitter, “oi, what that supposed to mean?”

you shrug.

bakugo clicked his tongue along with a roll of his eyes before he said, “how ‘bout this; i pay for your room tonight and in exchange we can get to know each other tomorrow.”

“i can pay for my own room though.”

bakugo deadpanned, he honestly thought he had won but apparently not. perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to hit on someone who had just gotten out of a relationship but whatever. “you’re impossible.” he spat, getting up from the couch and marching away, presumably to his room.

he tried to brush off the encounter like it never happened, reassuring himself that he didn’t have to think much of it as he could get with anyone else. plus, you’d probably come crawling back to him, begging to fuck once you get over deku anyway.

and he was half right.

eventually, you came to the realisation that both you and bakugo have one thing in common — a hatred for deku. and as it turns out, hatred provides a good groundwork for friendship.

#deku angst #izuku angst #bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugo x y/n #midoriya angst #👾angst #i'll probably have to make a part 4 for this to make sense

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wevegottogetaway · 4 years ago

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El Patrón

I’m so excited to finally be posting this piece. I’ve been working on it for the past few days and it’s been consuming my mind. If you like angst, smut, art student Harry, and great plot twists, this story is for you, so buckle up, cause you’ve got 13700 and then some waiting for you! And on that note, I don’t thing I have many words left in my brain... so, hope you enjoy xx

TW: smut, fool language

After her first day back to classes, Y/n is not surprised to see Harry Styles’ lanky frame standing behind the bar of Bottom’s Up. She hoped that he would bugger off to work some place else but alas, all her summer prayers were unanswered. For yet another semester, she would have to endure bartending by his sides, trying with all her might not to jab a corkscrew at his throat every time he opened his gob. Granted, she could have switched jobs herself, but the pay is too good to turn down and the bar sits literally right around the corner from her place; a match made in heaven if you ask her. Besides, she’s been mastering the art of tuning out the insufferable green-eyed prick for two years now, so what’s one more? Of course, knowing it is likely to be the last - having just kicked off the final year of her psychology major - makes the news easier to stomach. And with any luck, the fool did some sort of soul-searching over the break and came back a changed man.

"Well, well, well. Look who decided to grace us with her delightful presence again. Knew you couldn’t stand to live without me, y/l/n." Harry greets her with a smirk as he looks up from his phone.

Well, some much for change, but luck has never been on y/n’s side anyway; she knew it was wishful thinking to entertain the idea of a pleasant or even tolerable Harry. "Shut it, Styles. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit," she quips back and goes straight to the employee’s locker room to dispose of her stuff and swap her top for one bearing the bar’s logo. Once done, she takes a brief look in the tattered mirror still hanging by the door to readjust her ponytail, before joining her co-worker behind the counter. The bar is rather quiet for now, clock having not chimes 6pm yet, but y/n expects the place to be soon crawling with students drinking the classes’ return off their mind.

The next few minutes are spent in unexpected peaceful silence, y/n prepping for the upcoming rush while Harry idly sits by, not lifting a single finger to help her out. Admittedly, he’s completed all his pre-shift duties during the last hour, but y/n doesn’t think it warrants the smug look painted on his face as he watches her battle a jar of olives with an old opener and a concentrated frown. So peaceful silence was a bit of a stretch, maybe.

Then to make matters worse he decides to taunt her, "I see you’ve grown zero muscle strength over the break. Too busy vegetating on the beach?"

The surge of anger triggered by the provocation is enough impetus for her to crack the can open, but it doesn’t stop her from turning to face him, "I see you’ve grown zero neuron in that thick head of yours. Too busy making people miserable instead?" she counters with flaring nostrils and a look of disdain hardening her features.

"Ah, still got a feisty mouth on you. ‘Was worried you might turn soft on us." Harry sasses back, but y/n doesn’t bother telling him off this time. No matter how strong her comeback, he’ll just brush it off with that smile of his that irritates her to no end. That’s the thing with Harry, the bastard has the thickest skin of all, he’s downright unattainable. And believe it or not, bad-mouthing doesn’t come naturally to y/n, he just seems to draw it out of her, perhaps as the trigger of some kind of survival instinct. Time and time again she’s tried to come up with a quip that would leave him speechless, tail between his legs, but he always has a wittier reply to throw back at her. For so long they’ve been playing this debilitating game of ping pong and she has yet to claim a point to his countless wins.

It’d been the case since their first meeting on that dreadful Friday two years ago. Y/n was about to embark on her second year at uni and decided to get a job so she could afford her own place instead of the dreary dorms she’d gotten used to. Bottom’s Up had seemed to be the perfect choice, a 2 minutes walk from the sweet little apartment she’d just visited a few days prior. She’d been excited for her first shift that night, air still warm from the Indian summer sun drawing a plethora of eager students to come enjoy their last day of freedom. Her happy jitters had quickly dissolved once she’d made her way in the staff-only area located behind the bar though. There, she’d walked in on a very frustrated Harry vociferating at a lost-looking colleague, "how many times do you have to fuck up before doing your bloody job, Steve? Stop sitting on your lazy ass, or I swear I’ll-"

She’d come to this Steve guy’s defense then, furious at the tall curly hair jerk for bullying his way around, "stop it, you asshole. You can’t talk to people like trash, who do you think you are?" Granted, she didn’t know it at the time, but the lost look on Steve's face was in fact pretty standard for the amount of weed in his system; nor did she know that the lad could actually win the Olympics of lazy asses hands down, should such a discipline be appended. It was too late to call off the hostilities though. War had been declared, and aside maybe from that one time he had graciously accepted to cover for her when she’d had a trip to Brighton planned for one of her classes, no truce had ever been reached. Besides, she’s sure it was more so because he was low on cash rather than to fulfill the hidden desire to help her out for once in his life.

Now, as she finishes wiping her work surface with a wet cloth, y/n wishes more than ever to be teleported in a parallel universe where she doesn’t have to work with the bane of her existence, much less see his annoyingly handsome face four times a week. (Also, exams would only be optional in this alternate reality of hers, but that’s another fantasy for another day.) Mainly, she’s just glad she doesn’t see him around campus ever, the art building standing all the way across from the psychology department. At least she’s Harry-free the moment she steps out of the bar; she’d probably have a nervous breakdown if she had to put up with his antics outside of work.

***

A month in the new semester, the novelty of it all has finally worn off to make way for routines to settle in. Y/n’s weeks now consist in a well-practiced cycle of sleep, study, eat, work and occasionally go out with her best friend Mia. Her shifts at Bottom’s Up still prove to be challenging because of the company she’s forced to keep but things seem to have calmed down at the bar too. Students are now less inclined to party the week away, mainly indulging during the second half of the week, but more importantly, Harry appears to be less of a smug bastard and more of a sulky sod. For some reason, the lad has been stuck in a sullen mood, constant frown wrinkling his forehead. He has reverted to distant one-word answers as though he is saving a dictionary worth of words for whatever conundrum is going on in his brain. Y/n doesn’t mind though, and almost welcomes the transition if it means less digs taken at her expense.

Now y/n finds herself on her way to the campus library for a much needed paper-writing cramming session (the assignment is due the following day and she barely has two thirds of the work completed). After a quick stop by the coffee shop down the block, she finally strides in the lobby of the library, ready to dive nose first into the riveting matters of cognitive psychology. She’s already so focused mulling over concepts’ definition in her mind, that it takes her a minute to realize something is going on.

It’s nothing major really, no big fire rushing around the premises or fist-fight breaking the crowd into a frenzy. No, just everyone seemingly hushing and gasping, bewildered expressions etched upon their faces as they keep pointing towards the nearby study room. Truthfully, y/n might have been completely oblivious to it, it she weren’t a psychology major; but reading people’s feelings and interactions is kind of her thing, so she does notice the bubbly energy infiltrating the usually quiet space. What could possibly have them so intrigued, she wonders as more students come out of the room with the same looks of wonder.

Her confusion is finally quelled when she steps into the study room in question and her eyes fall on what has everyone so engaged. On the wall to her right, between two sets of shelves brimming with decades-old books, hangs a life size canvas of audacious shapes and bold colors. Not one seems to have been left out, the painting seemingly transporting the viewer in a psychedelic albeit appealing trance. It’s full of contrasts, an embodiment of serenity and boldness at the same time, and y/n can’t stop ogling the masterpiece for the life of her. The amount of passion is so obviously overwhelming, yet she can feel all of the artist’s emotions underneath each of the brushstrokes.

After another minute of wondrous observation, her thoughts are interrupted by a foreign voice. "El Patrón? I wonder who that could be," the stranger wonders aloud, and her eyes immediately drift off to the bottom right of the painting to catch the small but unmistakable signature: black cursive letter spelling the two words withholding the real artist’s identity. The mystery only adds up to the appeal of the work and y/n already feels a bubbling feeling in the pit of her stomach at the idea of ever finding out what beautiful soul is responsible for such mind-bending work. She hopes this won’t be last she sees of it.

***

It’s Friday night and unfortunately for y/n, she’s stuck at work with her least favorite person in the world. It’s all the more unfortunate that Harry seems to be back to his usual annoying self, his thoughts finally free from whatever trouble had plagued them, and eager to fall back into nuisance mode. Less unfortunate for y/n and much to Harry’s discontent, Mia decided to stop by and keep her company. Though she feels slightly sorry for her having the act as her buffer for the night, y/n figures she’s more than making up for it with every free cocktail she keeps sliding towards her friend. Their conversation is scattered at best since patrons keep interrupting them for a fresh pint of ale, but as the night slowly dies down they manage to talk longer than 20 seconds.

The manager of the bar has long clocked off and gone home, as per usual on Friday nights, leaving both her and Harry the pleasure to indulge in a few drinks of their own. They don’t do it every week and always keep it low-key of course; Mia’s tonight presence mostly accounting for y/n’s partaking while Harry just likes a nice glass of tequila when the week-end comes around and there’s nobody to tell him off about it. One thing they never do though, is drink together, like two friends celebrating yet another week they survived at uni. Come to think of it, the only thing they do share is a job position and their never-ending bickering. Cheers to that, y/n takes another sip of her gin martini in sarcasm.

She’s brought back to reality by Mia as the tipsy brunette lets out a loud gasp before she inquires in a slightly high-pitched voice, "y/n! totally forgot to tell you, went by the library today and you’ll never guess what was there!"

"Oh my god, you saw the painting too, didn’t you" y/n answers, excited at the idea of discussing the whole thing with her best friend. Truth be told, the majestic work of art hasn’t left her mind since she’d first seen it a few days before.

"Yes" Mia squeals in confirmation, "I mean, it’s kinda impossible to miss. I wonder how they got it there without anyone seeing."

Y/n has wondered the same thing and she came to one conclusion, "they probably sneaked in last Sunday after the library closed, it’s the only time the building is empty," Mia humming in agreement. The campus library is opened 24/7 all days except on Sundays, so realistically speaking it is the only window of time that would allow for such an experiment. Whether said experiment required an actual break-in or was conducted in full legality remains a mystery but that is just bygones in y/n’s eyes. She’s much to mesmerized by the work to give a damn about how it got there in the first place.

"Oi y/l/n! What are you two fawning over this time" Harry chirps in the conversation, uninvited as always, and y/n hates how condescending he just sounded.

"Not that you could ever understand something with substance, if your lack thereof is any indication, but it’s none of your damn business," y/n spats out dismissively but Mia’s Margarita-induced brain seems to have forgotten all about their concerted hatred for piss-taking bartenders.

"Harry, you’re an art major aren’t you? D’you know who’s behind that beautiful painting at the library?"

Y/n tilts her head back in a sigh at her friend’s behavior before turning to watch the puzzled look on Harry’s face. He seems to silently gauge the both of them; for what, y/n doesn’t know, and then his whole expression switched to a blasé look. He shrugs in disinterest, "who cares? ’s just one more Banksy wannabe who’s trying at it too hard ‘f you ask me."

Y/n takes it as a personal offense, her admiration for the painting outweighing any instinct she has of avoiding the brazen man taking a sip of his tequila on rocks across from her, "of course you’d say something like that. You’re just jealous you’ll never compete with his talent."

Harry raises a brow at her accusation, "and how would you know since you’ve never seen any of my work?"

It’s a valid point, but not enough to rebut her. "Doesn’t take a genius to know a shallow mind like yours could never create something as deep and transcending. That would require actual emotions from you Harry and we both know the only emotion you’re capable of spreading is irritation."

For once she’s confident she’s gonna have the last word, but in true Harry fashion he just gives her a bored look as if to say ‘is that all?’ towel thrown over his shoulder, "right, and here I thought talking to people like trash was a bad thing. You should really take a page out of your own book, y/n, wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re as big of a jerk as I am." Then he turns back to face the room full of customers, and tends to one disheveled looking guy slurring out an order.

Y/n barely registers the friendly "alright Joe, but ’s the last one," Harry rasps out to the guy, her ears are still ringing from the last words he’d said to her. More specifically, the little truth they held despite how much he deserved the backlash, and y/n absolutely loathes the way her throat seems to be closing in on itself. She’s afraid she’s turning like him, bitter words at the ready and always trying to outdo his own taunting spiels. Before anxiety can settle in her bones though, she swallows back the knot tightening in her airways and goes back to serving customers and conversing with her friend.

***

The next time it happens, she expects it even less. A couple weeks have passed since her gruesome interaction with Harry at the bar, and along with her doubts, all thoughts about art have seemed to vanish from her busy mind. She’s had a few tests occupying all her free time and now that they’ve been done and over with, all she can think about is calling Mia up to plan their next night out; she needs a few drinks that she didn’t make for once.

She’s about to take her phone out of her pocket to send her best friend a text, when she enters the lecture hall of her Monday experimental method and research design class. The déjà-vu feeling that creeps up her spine stops her from completing the action, and y/n frowns at how her fellow students seem to be all entranced in deep conversation, exchanging baffled looks with one another. Even the sleeping kid that sits at the back seems to be more alert than during their last fire evacuation procedure test.

It’s then y/n turns around to see what is hanging at the front of the room, covering the large board. This time, the colors were carefully handpicked by the artists, flashes of pink and yellow dancing along to a frenzied rhythm of salsa as their union creates powerful jets of oranges across the canvas. It vaguely reminds her of the pendant she wears on a daily basis, rose gold laurels wrapped around a delicate sunflower, an orange topaz incrusted in its center. The painting is of abstract nature much like the last one, but the movements of the brush still bring her mind back to the jewel presently nestled between her collarbones. How odd.

The piece is slightly smaller than the last but no less impressive, catching the attention of even the least artistic eye. The sensibility of the artist is so distinct, intentions clearer and more in touch than most people with their own. For a second, y/n thinks she’s glad the pieces have only been ones of unadulterated happiness and colorful bliss so far, because god knows how heart-wrenching the outcome would be if all this uncorrupted honesty was used to fill canvas with pain.

As the professor enters the room, everybody settles back on their seat, and wait for the chap’s reaction. "Well, that sure is something. It seems we have a bit of a mystery painter on our hands, don’t we; and a talented one at that," y/n’s professor smiles at the class as he pulls a computer out of his satchel and places it at top of the front desk. His words make her look back at the artwork, this time settling on the small signature reading El Patrón on its corner. And it’s all it takes for Y/n’s obsession with the anonymous artist to be back in full force.

***

That night she can’t stop raving about the painting as she starts closing the bar after a long and tiresome shift. She’s got a shoulder pressing her phone to her ear, Mia on the line, while she absentmindedly sweeps the floor. Normally the exertion of the job would have her stifling yawns and her bones aching but tonight her voice is perky as ever as she recollects the pinnacle of her day, "you shoulda been there Mia, it was gorgeous. And same as last time, like you’d be minding your business, doing your thing and then boom, it’s there. Damn, this guy is a genius."

As she comes back around the counter, Harry makes sure she notices the roll of his eyes. He’s been wiping and tidying the bar space after making sure everything is stocked up for the next day, all the while listening to her drone about El Patrón and his stroke of genius, praise after praise falling from her lips. She completely brushes off the patronizing gesture and that’s perhaps what irritates him the most. She’s barely acknowledging him or his stunts with all her attention placed on the mystery painter and well, Harry quite likes riling her up. Doesn’t do it out of spite, but merely because he likes the way it ignites a fire in her that he’s seldom seen in people. But now, all her fire is directed elsewhere and he doesn’t know what to think of it.

***

Over the next month, the rumors around El Patrón spread like wildfire as more and more of his works are found scattered around campus. Much to y/n’s delight, she always seems to fall upon them as though they’ve been placed specifically on her path. It didn’t start as obvious though; the first following pieces hung in common areas around campus such as the lunch hall or the student center but as time went by they tended to follow her whereabouts somehow. Y/n knows she’s probably fabulating but when she’d stumble across two absolutely stunning pieces in the lobby of her gym and at the entrance of the psychology building, she couldn’t help but feel deeply attached to them. And the possibility that this mystery artist might have the same attachment to her, only fuels her obsession further, sending her reeling with all but one nerve-wracking question: who is this guy?

And it’s not like she’s the only one pondering over their identity either. Hell, the genius has literally everyone on campus under their spell, trying to uncover the enigma of the year. Everyone seems to be determined to find clues, easter eggs hidden within the paintings that could lead them closer to the truth. El Patrón has effectively turned the whole uni into a large-scale game of Cluedo, people speculating left and right and swapping theories about who it can or cannot be, what year they are probably in, or whether they have an accomplice. Nobody has ever executed such a tour de force in the history of campus, and it has everyone one edge, y/n included, desperate to be in the loop.

The fact that each painting is more beautiful than the last and always seems to connect with her in personal ways doesn’t help her daydreaming either. Take the one she found at the gym for example, for a few second she’d sworn she was looking at a familiar piece of the English South Coast, dark hues of blue fighting dots of white, reminiscent of the way foam always seems to top even the most raging waves as they crash along shores. She’d only had to close her eyes to feel the wind blowing her hair in a thousand directions and the sand engulfing her feet, making its way between her toes and every crevice of her skin. She was still in the middle of her gym when she reopened them though, her sport bag straddling her shoulder as she kept gaping at the painting in adoration.

Her suspicious keeps nagging at her head, the desire to unveil the identity of her beloved artist getting stronger by the day. The feeling is almost unbearable when she spots yet another work of his across from Bottom’s Up. The coincidences keep piling up and the more she mulls it over, the more she’s convinced this mystery guy is talking to her. Damn, is it possible to have a crush on someone because of their work? After months of this cryptic scavenger hunt, she’d dying to know if all her theories are right and the fact that she has no way to find out, is positively killer her.

That’s why when she stumbles across a flyer for a midterm exhibition gala hosted by the art department as she waits in line at her favorite coffee shop, she doesn’t think twice before jotting down all the info. In a week time, most of the uni’s art students would be gathered up in one place to present their term’s work. The chances are too high for y/n to pass up the opportunity, her guts telling her he’ll be there. It makes sense doesn’t it? Surely, this El Patrón ought to be an art student if not a teacher. How else would they have access to all the campus amenities most of the paintings were found in?

As she goes to pick up her coffee from the counter, y/n walks with a newfound spring in her steps; she really can’t wait for this gala to happen.

***

Y/n stands at the entrance of the art building, a black floor-length long-sleeves open-back dress hugging her curves in all the right places. Her heart speeds up at the nervous jitters crawling underneath her skin, and the million question swarming her frantic mind. What if he actually doesn’t know her and doesn’t give a damn about her thoughts on his work? What if it’s actually a woman and she’s been hiding a man’s pen-name to consolidate her deceit? Is she about to make the biggest fool out of herself by coming to this exhibition? She doesn’t know anyone here, nor has she ever been to this kind of event before but she’s decided this guessing game has run its course. Maybe this all thing has nothing to do with her and that’s okay. All she really wants is to have a chance to tell this exquisite mind how remarkable their work is; the rest be damned.

Y/n slowly makes her way inside, and after a quick stop at the coat room to dispose of the unnecessary garment, she is finally greeted by a room full of dressed-up people roaming and chatting around, champagne flutes in hands. How cliche, she thinks with humor, before picking up a glass of the bubbly beverage. It’ll help sooth the nerves, she reasons as she starts walking around the place to observe each of the displays. Despite not having had a glimpse of her number-one painter yet, she finds herself having a good time. Most of the work offered to her is engaging in one way or another; some pieces quite provocative is their depiction, others straight out pushing the limits of 2D, with structures coming out of the canvas as though they were about to grip at the viewer.

Turning at a corner, she comes across his art before she sees him, having almost forgotten art was supposedly his thing too, and she realizes she actually knew someone here apart from the mysterious painter. She takes a brief look at his tall frame, the baby blue suit over his crisp white shirt fitting him perfectly. A black tie is completing the look, and it makes y/n waver for a second. She’s never seen him dressed in anything other than jeans and the bar’s t-shirt every employee is supposed to wear on call. Granted, even that he can make work better than anyone else she can think of, but that suit is something else altogether.

Her eyes shifts back to his work, not wanting to waste too much time on his appearance; she is here on a mission after all. She can’t deny his painting is good as much as she wants too. It’s made of a perfectly executed optic illusion that has her pause for longer than she intended to. The colors are picked wisely only adding to the entrancing design, tempting the viewer to reach out to the painting to convince themselves that this is fact a pretty subterfuge and no reality; the frontier between both worlds much too hard to distinguish. Just like for the rest of the exhibition, a single plaque hangs underneath the canvas, introducing the title of the piece above the name of its artist: Fine Line by Harry Styles. Damn, the bastard had to be talented…

"Is it as depthless as you thought it would be?" A hoarse voice interrupts her inner thoughts. She knows it’s his at the first word and already she regrets ever thinking positive things about him.

"Funny, I would have shared a compliment but you just had to go and open your stupid mouth," she bites back as she fully turns around to face him. She can feel is eyes shamelessly scanning her body, sending her nerves on overdrive. She wants this exchange to be as curt as possible, she’s got important matters to tend to.

"Here for you mysterious bloke, I presume?" he inquires in a taunting voice.

"What’s it to you, anyway?" y/n dodges the question with another, hoping it’ll steer the conversation toward its end.

She’s answered by rosy pouting lips, a hand on his heart in faux vexation, "ouch, was just hopin’ you’d come to see me, and now you’ve just crushed my dreams, love."

The pet-name is not lost on her and Y/n has had enough. In own gulp she downs the rest of her champagne and forces the glass to his chest for him to hold as she makes her way past him, "just leave me alone and go be a pain in someone else’s ass, Harry." She doesn’t wait to see if he’s following her as she marches across the room in long and purposeful strides.

Something in the corner of her eyes catches her attention right then. Halting abruptly, almost making someone walk right into her, she turns her head to the side and that’s when she finally sees it. A whole part of the wall has been dedicated to his work, a shrine of his most outstanding pieces randomly hung against the white surface. Y/n recognizes each and every one of them, but then her eyes take in the extra work added for the exhibition: next to each of the pieces are displayed a bunch of photos capturing the students’ expressions as they first discovered the paintings. Dozens of faces lighting up in amazement, widening eyes and finger pointing at the unexpected intrusions; some show confusion and puzzlement while others simply behold laughter and animated conversation.

In the center of the wall, a video is projected. It’s a compilation of those same moments but this time captured on tape. The sound was removed, but as y/n takes in the faces of her fellow students she can almost hear the sound of their laughters; she’d been there for most of it after all. She thinks the idea is amazing, El Patrón has managed to make the viewer a permanent part of the art. The paintings are marvelous of course, full of emotions and passion, but the mysterious artist has gone one step further by also displaying how those emotions had reflected back on the audience. It is an ode to art, to the power of sharing, and proves art is limitless; not owned by museums, not bound between walls and certainly not restricted for trained-eyes only. Because art isn’t all about beauty, it speaks for the need for sharing that human have but often forget, and this is a perfect reminder of it.

The next tape playing has her eyes doubling over the video, a small gasp escaping her lips as she takes in her own figure. It was taken the day she found the painting at the gym and unlike all the other videos she’s alone. No group of students by her side elbowing her in disbelief, or sharing a puzzle look with her. Just her doe eyes gleaming at the painting, lips slightly parted in pure wonder, as she studies every inch of the canvas. And the feeling that this might mean just as much to him as it does to her comes back crashing on her. She’s not paranoid; this artist his using her as some kind of inspiration, she’s sure of it. Random cannot be this accurate, it would defy any laws of statistics.

After the slideshow finally moves on to the next video, y/n looks around in the hopes of finding the man that has wormed his way into her heart. She’s imagined it a thousand times over during the past week. A young man would be discretely standing on the side, watching the evening pan out and waiting for her to find his work. Then they would make eye contact and he’d make his way over to greet her and share more of his beautiful mind with her. That’s the happily ever after she’s hoped for since that first painting in the library, but alas everyone around her seems to be engrossed in conversation about this and that.

"I thought he would be there too," the unexpected voice makes her jump. She recognizes the student from that first day, she’d also be intrigued by the mysterious man.

"I know, all of his work is here, he has to somewhere around," y/n tries to convince herself. She hasn’t given up yet, she won’t let herself unless she goes home tonight empty-handed. Only after that will she stop searching, she promises herself. If he doesn’t show up tonight, then that’s because he doesn’t want to be found.

The girl next to her has the same disappointed tone when she explains, "you’d think so, but I’ve been asking everyone around and nobody has a clue still."

Before y/n can come up with her own rationalizations, someone starts speaking in a microphone, asking for everyone’s attention. It’s a man in his early fifties making a speech about the whole reason behind the exhibition so y/n pegs him as the head of the art department. "Thank you all for coming tonight, it is always a pleasure to see so many of you supporting our young talents. As you may know, tonight’s exhibition signs off our students’ final work for the semester, and will also see one of them receive a one-time collaboration with a renown art gallery in the city. Now, before the judges finish deliberating, let me tell you a bit about the topic of this exhibition which, by the way, serves as the main criteria for this contest. Our artists were asked to work around audience engagement and crowd reaction. The task was to produce art that would prompt an active response from the viewer and go beyond a passive experience. I hope this info helps this event take all its sense, I’ll let you all meander for a couple more minutes before we announce the winner. Thank you for your presence."

Since she has a couple more of minutes, y/n decides to take advantage of the fresh insight she was just given about the artwork and goes around the exhibition one more time. The whole thing does take on a new meaning, now that she knows what was going one in the students’ mind as they first got their assignment. But what has her in awe really, is El Patrón’s coup de maître in all of this, because unlike any other applicant here tonight, he’s had the strongest reactions from the public for months now and had even documented it. So really, in a way he’s already won, no bias to blame. The amount of work and planning behind such a tour de force surely has exceeded everyone’s expectations and secured the number-one position for the still-to-be-revealed artist. In the pocket, as they say.

"Alright everyone, without further ado we are going to announce the lucky talent selected by the judges tonight," the head of department speaks up again. "On behalf of the whole department, I would like to salute each and every one of the students that presented their work tonight. Skills are certainly not scarce among you all, and as always it gives me great pleasure to see you all grow into yourselves alongside your craft. As you know, there can only be one of you coming up to this stage tonight and I must say, this semester has proved to be full of surprises. Never in my 26 years working here have I ever seen something of the sort, so ladies, gentleman, I have no idea who is about to join me now, but please give a warm round of applause for El Patrón!"

The room explodes in loud cheers as people clap their hands in honor of the mysterious artist. Y/n probably the loudest amongst them all, is still craning her neck in every possible directions trying to catch sight of anyone moving towards the stage. The standing ovation quickly fades into silence as everyone realizes nobody is coming to claim their prize. The usual hushing following any of El Patrón’s stunts is once again spreading across the room to match people’s incredulity at the situation. It was one thing to keep their identity a secret, as it was clearly a crucial condition for the plan to work, but now that it is all over and done, prize ready for the taking, it doesn’t make much sense.

"Mister El Patrón? I think you more than deserve to drop your mask and receive your prize," the host reiterates in hopes that the much awaited artist comes out of his lair, but he’s met with the same result. Perhaps he’s not here after all, or perhaps y/n was right to think he might not want to be found, but regardless a strong feeling of disappointment takes over a body. He won’t be coming, she knows. No matter how many times the host calls for him, he won’t be coming.

She lets out a long sign in frustration then, she really thought tonight was the tonight. But now that the evening is coming to its end, tears pearl at the corner of her eyes and she just wants to go home and forget all about El Patrón. Aren’t artists supposed to be dark and twisted anyway? Maybe she just dodges a bullet, she tries to make herself feel better, but no amount of sarcasm can save her from the painful pinch at her heart. As she comes to term with the fact she won’t get any more answers by staying (and possible ever), she decides it’s her cue to go.

On her way to the exit, her eyes fall upon Harry’s slightly hunched figure. He seems deep in his thoughts, eyes fixed towards the floor though he’s not looking at anything in particular. For some unknown reason, y/n is not irked by his presence like she usually is. He’s just lost a great career opportunity so his preoccupied disposition is understandable. Feeling as though she needs to end the night on a different note - whether positive is yet to be determined - she approaches him slowly as not to startle him. "Your painting is really good. I’m sorry you didn’t win, but you should still be proud," she softly tells him to cheer him up. At least, one of them might get to go home in higher spirits.

He looks up at her then, curls bouncing on top of his head, as he aligns his two glistening emeralds to her own gems. He seems quite surprised to hear her voice, probably rightfully so since he can count on one hand (scratch that, one finger) the number of times she’s actively sought him out for conversation. She can tell he’s debating whether to say something or not, as they keep their eyes locked. It’s probably the longest and only civil exchange they’ve ever had, and somehow it manages to soothe some of her sorrows.

Y/n likes this reflective side of him, she realizes. Not that she wishes him any torments (at least not tonight) but his quietness makes him look vulnerable in that beautifully human way for once. That’s twice he’s proven her wrong about the assumptions she had on him, tonight: first his talent, now his character; she doesn’t know what to make of it. Silently, she accepts the timid smile and light nod he offers her in gratitude, before making her way to out at last.

***

Two days after the night of the exhibition, y/n still has a hard time to let her grievance go. Her mood has yet to upgrade from crappy at best, and the fact that all the artwork has been removed from their previous spots is not helping much. Of course she knew they had been put down for the big night, but her heart still missed a beat when she went to the gym only to find the walls of the lobby bare of any craft that would liven up their otherwise dull and colorless structure. Just like her state of mind, she’d joked. And y/n is not one to throw pity parties, especially to herself; but then again, she’d never fallen under the charms of a faceless virtuoso because his art brought to life parts of her that she’d believed otherwise dormant, only to be metaphorically stood up at the end of the process. So really, what does she know anymore?

Now that she’s back at work, she revels in the constant effort she has to provide. The ever-growing list of task to complete gives her mind reprieve and focus, but she still hasn’t budged from her unusually distant and withdrawn self. Even harry’s own standoffishness hasn’t caught her attention; a week ago, his awkward demeanor would have flashed red flags all over her radar. An unfiltered narcissistic prick he could be, but y/n has never known him to be anything even resembling reserve; apart maybe from that one fate-less night not even 72 hours ago when she found him on the outskirts of the attention even though she knew full well that he is more of center kind of guy.

As they’re about to start closing, the awkwardness becomes more palpable by the second. They’ve skirted around it during the whole shift, the steady solicitation of customers enough to ignore the growing tension; but as the last of the patrons finally make their way out of the bar, an eery silence settles in their wake, making them both want to crawl out of their skin. Even the heavy-served drinks they’ve indulged in, despite the absence of their respective motives, hasn’t help assuage the strain between them. Instead, they start their usual routine in overrated silence, y/n in charge of the floor while he tends to the bar. Then before long, Harry bursts the uncomfortable bubble they’ve locked themselves in, voice void of its usual teasing tone, "so, what’s got you so grumpy?" he inquires.

"Please don’t start, Harry. I really can’t be bothered tonight," y/n sighs in response, failing to recognize the note of concern in his question and thinking she wouldn’t survive another bickering session. It hasn’t been the lad’s intention though, so her false accusation has his thick skin itching against his will. To be honest, Harry’s never taken much offense from any of their past squabbles no matter how hard she’d come at him, but this one he can’t brush off. Not when for once, he’s trying to be decent, dropping the attitude he knows rubs her the wrong way and she responds by telling him to get lost.

"Fuck sake, I wasn’t tryin’ to start anythin’" he berates her for lashing out unjustifiably, "you need to take a chill pill." The hostile reaction as her pausing mid-swipe in the middle of the room. He was always so unbothered by everything she said, she hasn’t expected him to be so hard on the defensive (or even know what a defensive is in the first place).

Still, she doesn’t appreciate the same chastising tactic he’s used on her countless times, especially because given his serious temper, she knows he means it for real now. "Oh I’m sorry Harry, I didn’t know what sympathy actually sounds like coming from your mouth," she quips back in sarcasm.

The response makes him livid, "you tell me I’m a jerk every chance you got, but you sure know how to be a bitch, y/n" he spats before finishing wiping the counter. As his hand reaches the end of the surface, he finds his half-empty glass of tequila, most of the ice completely melted through the amber liquor by now. He takes one long sip in a vain attempt to calm his nerves but the alcohol merely tingles the back of his palate and warms its way down his stomach. His mind is still burden with frustrations he doesn’t know how to alleviate; the end of term, the exhibition, his career’s future, and y/n’s stubborn nature all wreaking havoc in his tired brain.

"Shut the fuck up, Harry. I didn’t ask for your attention," y/n retorts, trying not to expose how bruised her heart is. While he’d mocked her plenty during the past two years, he’d never resorted to calling her names, unlike her; so the insult does more damage than she’s willing to admit, even coming from Harry. And to think she’d thought of him as a half decent being not three days ago…

"Right, I forgot only anonymous bastards are worthy enough of your attention," he replies before checking the shelves behind the bar to make sure they’re stocked enough for the next shift. "And even when they turn out to be cowards, you still choose them over the people that are actually around you. You need to open your eyes and wake up, it’s pathetic."

Y/n has almost finished cleaning her area but at this point, she’s ready to call it quits and run as fast as she can, away from him. "Go fuck yourself, you don’t know anything you’re talking about," she manages to croak past her swelling throat and quivering lips. The man in front of her is breaking her heart even though he’s never had it in his calloused hands, and y/n doesn’t know why.

"Fuck this, ’m done," he quite literally throws in the towel, leaving it in a bowl on the counter before making his way back to his drink. In a swift movement, he grabs the bottle of tequila to pour himself a new one. "You keep blindly mopin’ about your precious painter, I don’t care, you’re probably right anyway," he says before chugging the bitter spirit in one go and slamming the bottle of tequila down on the counter in a loud bang that has y/n jump in fear. "I don’t anything about bloody anything," is all Harry says as he locks eyes with hers, before making his out of the bar, not bothering to put the bottle back to its rightful place.

Y/n is still trembling from the exchange, and it takes her a hot minute before she can finish what she was doing. As she resumes wiping the floor with shaky hands, she tries to even her breath out. Why had he been so hurtful? What could have possibly impelled him to utter such malicious words? The questions are still reeling in her mind as she twists water out of the mop for the last time. Once the floor is spotless and all the tables are no longer sticky with spilled alcohol, chairs stacked up onto them upside-down, she makes her way back behind the bar, checking that Harry didn’t leave any of his duties unattended before his theatrical exit. She spots the bottle of tequila sitting lonely on the counter but just as she goes to reach for it, she freezes.

It’s a cold shower pouring over her body all at once then, dots finally connected as her eyes read over the label of the fat bottle she’s seen him take out of the stack countless times before. Everything that happened for the last few months falls into place and suddenly there is no mystery left to be solved. ‘You’re probably right, I don’t know anything about bloody anything’ Harry’s final words keep playing on a maddening loop in her head.

Y/n takes in the small bee design printed under what is unmistakably the last piece of the puzzle she’s been craving to complete: one word that has her stomach churning in a myriad of emotions she can’t possibly untangle. Anger, relief, surprise, fear, curiosity, warmth and more, are all rushing through her in one colossal wave, because printed on that bottle in black capital letters is the brand of Harry’s favorite drink: Patrón.

***

The next day, y/n navigates through her classes purely on autopilot mode. She doesn’t quite remember picking the floral blouse nor the light-shade pair of jeans she’s wearing, and barely recalls the brief conversation she had with an old lady during her bus commute to campus. One thing she sure as hell hasn’t paid one iota of attention to, is the behavioral psychology class she’s just got out of. Two hours she spent pacing up and down every twist and turn of her mind only to come out more lost than she’d started. Add to that the fact she’s running on 4 hours of sleep, she’s quite simply a recipe for disaster. Fortunately for y/n, she isn’t due at work tonight, having called sick this morning, because sleep-deprivation aside, she still has no idea how she’s supposed to face Harry.

The revelation of the night prior is still something she has trouble wrapping her mind around, as it goes against every constructed opinion she’s made about her life. Harry is Patrón, she’s pretty sure. Harry, the allegedly conceited asshole she’s been bickering with since their first minute spent together, is the mind-blowing painter that had taken residence in y/n’s heart since the first time she set eyes on his art. The two characters have yet to fully merge into one in her mind, despite the fact it makes perfect sense to her.

The Brighton painting, the one inspiring her necklace, it was all true. And with that revelation comes two intimidating truths y/n is kind of scared to delve into: one, all this time she’s been right to think she is the muse behind this all scheme; two, if Harry is the mystery painter, that makes her Harry’s muse more specifically. And that’s the part of the equation she struggles the most with, because up until last night she was pretty positive that the twat despised her (the night in itself being prime evidence of that) but now she doesn’t know what to think.

It’s like there are two versions of Harry battling in her brain, splitting her heart in halves; the one that made her miserable at work for years and made her cry last night, and the one she’d gotten a glimpse of at the night of the exhibition. The one that hid a fully blossomed bouquet of emotions behind teasing banter to protect a diamond-rough talent that had the power to touch just about anyone’s sensibility. The one that had her wrapped around his finger in awe with that beautiful mind of his. The question is, can she or will she see this Harry the next time she’s facing him or will all their bad-blood history come crashing down on her instead? Y/n doesn’t think she’s ever fit more the definition of having mixed feelings about something.

On her way home, she makes sure she doesn’t fall asleep against the bus window, despite yawning every thirty-seconds. It feels like the trip is taking forever, she almost lets out a cry of relief when the automated voice finally announces her upcoming stop. Once she’s thanked the driver and stepped out of the bus, she’s met with a gust of brisk air, instantly blowing her hair all over her face. She draws the lapels of her coat tighter around her shivering body and starts making her way towards her apartment building.

It doesn’t take her long to complete the walking distance to her place and tread her way up the stairs, but the sight greeting her in the hallway of her floor almost sends her down on her ass. Because right across from her door, is Harry hanging yet another one of his chefs-d’oeuvre. He’s dressed casually in his usual jeans and t-shirt ensemble, with a thick grey hoodie covering his broad upper-half in a feeble attempt to combat to cold weather raging outside. As he reaches in the back pocket of his jeans to retrieve a sharpie - no doubt to apply his trademark signature - the movements of her feet on the laminated floor catch his attention. Spinning around in a jolt of surprise, he realizes too late that he’s been caught red-handed. There was no going back this time, but he doesn’t necessarily see it as a bad thing.

There is a short moment where they are both just standing in front of each other a few feet apart, as their eyes bounce back in silent conversation, before y/n softly breaths out, "so it is you." The weight of her words has him swallow in nervousness, "of course it’s me," he replies in a gentle tone. A smile pulls at his lips when he realizes she’s not running for the hills or bursting out in a furious rant.

"I just…how? why? I mean, you gotta help me understand Harry, cause I’m pretty fucking lost over here," she blurts out with wide doe-eyes begging him for answers. Her obvious jitters earn her a soft chuckle., and for a hot minute all he can bring himself to do is study her snuggled figure and the way she keeps fiddling with her keys. It’s so endearing to him, if they were at his place, he would have offered to make some tea. The thought has him hesitantly looking at the door across from them, "can we maybe talk inside?" he inquires, beckoning his head towards her place. "I know I haven’t given you much reasons to let me in, but I promise I’ll explain everythin’," he feels the need to convince her, " after that, you can kick me out if you still want."

The last bit has her smile timidly, "yeah, let’s go inside. I wanna hear what you have to say," y/n admits as she steps to the door and unlocks it. She’s intrigued by how gentle and well-mannered the man following her to the living room seems to be, light years away from the rowdy lad she’s come to know.

For a second, y/n is worries about the state she’s left the apartment before she rushed to classes this morning, but her apprehensions quickly go away once she takes in the sight of her rather tidied living space. A velvety throw blanket is covering the couch in a makeshift comforter from the way she spent the night on the couch, and apart from a few class notes scattered across the coffee table, everything seems to be where it’s supposed to be.

They both discard their top layers on the armchair adjacent to the couch, Harry slipping his hoodie off above his head in one swift gesture, while y/n simply lets the sleeves of her coat slide down her arms. He brushes his hair back into submission with one swoop of his hand, before sitting down on the couch and directing his attention back at her. She decides to leave some distance between them, taking the other end of the sofa and the move desperately makes him wonder what thoughts are running through her head. The only way to uncover them however, is if he starts talking first; and so he does.

"So uhm," he starts clumsily, clearing his throat, "remember the first day we met, you walked in on me telling some stoner guy off," he watches closely as y/n nods. "It was our first ever conversation and we fought through the whole thing. I was pretty pissed when it happened, not gonna lie, but once I got home and slept it off, I thought it was really cool how you’d stand up for that random guy." The admission has her eyebrows raising but he keeps going, "and okay maybe, just maybe, I found it a lil hot, the way you tried to put me back in my place."

He stops to make sure he hasn’t offended her, "tried to?" she challenges instead, Harry laughing at her objection.

"Right, maybe you did. My poin’ is, no-one really calls me out on my bullshit, so it was kinda refreshing that you did. But then the next day, you were still mad at me, an’ we bickered that time too. It felt like you’d already made up your mind about me. So in a way, all I had left was doin’ this thing where I push your buttons and rile you up. Know it doesn’t make sense, but it was the only way you’d interact with me so I kept doin’ it, because being jerk-Harry was better than having nothin’."

He pauses for a minute and waits as y/n swallows all the information. All this time he’s been teasing her just to have some sort of connection, no matter how perverse, while she thought he just hated her guts. When she shares this thought with him, he shakes his head with a smile, "never hated you. If I ‘ad, I wouldn’t have bothered talking t’you."

Suddenly, her chest feels lighter, as though all this months of anguish had evaporated from her mind, now that she knew their rocky relationship was the result of miscommunication, "sound logic, Styles," she replies in good humor. Then she remembers the El Patrón’s fiasco so she urges him to go on.

"My final. Right. Well as you know, we were given the assignment at the beginning of the semester, and I came up with the idea of creating this alter ego that would plant his work around campus. I thought by taking people’s by surprise I was guaranteed strong genuine reactions. People are always more opened when they don’t expect it. Like if I had just brought my paintings on the night of the exhibition, the same people wouldn’t have reacted that way, probably because they’d know they’d be observed so they would have adjusted their behavior accordingly." They both know he’s getting slightly off trail, but watching y/n so enthralled with his words makes it hard for him to stop. Fact is, for month she’s dreamed of meeting and picking at the brain of this mysterious painter, and now that he’s sitting on her couch, walking her through his thought process, she finally feels like she is.

"Anyway," he resumes the storytelling, "I started with that painting in the library and it worked so perfectly, I knew if I followed the plan I would have somethin’ really good. But then you just had to go on an’ rave about the paintings without knowing they were mine, and it was killin’ me inside. Because I knew if there was a real chance I could change your mind about me, I’d do anythin’. But no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t tell you. Couldn’t jeopardize my final… so I tried to tell you through the art. I started painting stuff that made me think of you and placed the pieces in locations I knew you’d pass through. It was the only way I could tell you."

Harry’s confession had Y/n’s heart beating so hard in her chest, she can almost feel it thumping through her ears. Her next question is on the edge of her lips, but she takes her time tracing each of Harry’s graceful features until his eyes catch hers, "tell me what, Harry?" she asks barely above a whisper.

His response comes in three bashful steps: first his lips curve into a shy grin that has him look down with rosy cheeks; then his hand inches its way along the soft fabric of the couch to gently hold her fingers, thumb grazing over her knuckles; and as he looks up from their joined hands to connect their gaze once more, he finally spells it, loud and clear, "tell you that I like you, y/n."

The sentiment sends her own emotions reeling in a tornado of passion. This is it, this is what she’s been half-knowingly wishing for, and now that she knows the truth in full, she’s ready to embrace it. Her eyes twinkle in bliss, a growing smile illuminating her face as she squeezes his hand in a silent invitation to slide closer to her. Harry is much happy to oblige, and once he’s sitting directly next to her, knees grazing her own, he cups her face with one of his bear-paw hands. A few strands of hair are caught in the cuddling gesture, but none of them care. Harry just keeps smiling at her, waiting for her next move, and his beam grows two sizes wide when she mirrors his affection. "I like this side of you," she whispers fondly, as her thumb draws slow circles across the skin of his cheeks.

Harry closes his eyes at her words, "this is the real me, I promise," he reassures in an almost pleading tone, vulnerability seeping through. And y/n feels like she’s lying down on cloud nine really, because dropping his fortress of pretentiousness is all she’s ever want from him. With a hushed ‘okay’, she finally brings her mouth to taste the rose-tinted flesh of his. It starts off chaste and slow, lips dovetailed in perfect symbioses like they are made to cohabit, but quickly the kiss heats up to a full on make out session. "Show me, then", y/n mutters out when they part for a breather.

Harry slowly nods his head, before helping her straddle his lap and y/n immediately brings both her hands to his neck once she settles her hips against his. The friction already had them deeply inhale, trying not to work themselves up too fast, but Harry doesn’t think he’ll have much self-control when it comes to y/n. Already he can feel his cock fattening up inside his brief, the tingling sensation making him roll his hips up into hers. Their lips are back in a sensual duel, tongues tentatively taking their turn to lick their way inside the other’s mouth. Every now and then, he teases her bottom lip with a graze of his teeth, and the move as her tugging the root of his hair at the back of his head every single time without a fail.

He loves discovering all the quirks and tells of her body, thinks he could spend hours on hand learning every single one of her curves and memorizing each of her special spots. The smell of her fragrance infiltrates his nostrils as he dips his head to her neck to plant open-month kisses along her skin. Head angled towards the ceiling to make room for his ministrations, y/n can’t do much but let her hands scout any expanse of skin accessible to her. She starts at his shoulder, squeezing the flesh to feel out the strong muscle laying underneath, before making her way down his tone arms, then to his hands currently holding onto to her waist. She gives them an affectionate pinch at the same time she presses down onto him with a deep moan, and Harry retaliates with a buck of his own.

As he starts kissing down the exposed skin of her cleavage, y/n finally drops her head to place a tender kiss to his hairline. One of her hand is back at his neck, holding him firmly to her chest as he licks at the valley of her breasts down her sternum. The other worms its way underneath his shirt from the neckline, nails grazing down his back in soft enough pressure not to leave any marks.

Harry’s descent is obstructed by the soft material of her blouse, so he takes the garment off of her in one swoop, and places his hands back on her newly exposed body, rubbing up and own the skin. As his mouth goes back to the supple flesh of her breasts, y/n increases the pace of her hips grinding on his cock. The sensations seem to be not enough and too much at the same time for her; the heavy material still covering their most sensitive parts in the way of her pleasure, while Harry’s work has her going into overdrive under his velveteen mouth and calloused fingers. She starts kissing her way up from his shoulder to the edge of his jaw, and Harry revels in the sound of her moans tickling his ear.

Done with the excess of fabric between them two, y/n grips at the top of his shirt and pulls it upwards, leaving him shirtless. "Fuck, I didn’t know you have so many tattoos," she babbles against his lips, while her hands smooth over the ink.

"Plenty you don’t know about me, love," Harry chirps as he bask in the praise and the feeling of her skin of his.

He then circles one arm around her waist to bring them chest to chest, and the contact has y/n once again intensify the friction between their crotches. "Wanna find out," she murmurs against his neck while she grinds on his clothed member, "Harry, please take me to bed."

He jolts at the quick bite she delivers to his neck, the impish gesture her way of saying ‘now’ but before she can make her way out of his lap to bring him to her room, he presses her back down with both hands on her waist. "Nuh uh, y’not goin’ anywhere. Want you to come once, b’fore I take you to bed, pet," he says, smoothing his hands over her ass to guide her rocking motions. The term of endearment sounds so innocent yet dirty all at once, it sends a chill down her spine. Nobody had called her that before.

"Can’t," she shakes her head, "can’t feel you through the jeans."

"Alright then, stand up," he calmly asserts and she doesn’t hesitate to comply, standing in between his spread legs, in her flimsy bra and jeans. "Take ‘em off then, ’s what you want no?" he sends her a tantalizing look and bites at his lips as he watches her peel the pants off her legs. He can’t help the light squeeze he gives himself through his own jeans, as y/n stands in front of him awaiting his next instructions. "Come sit on my thigh now, think should be enough to make this pretty pussy tingle in all the right places, no?"

Y/n’s insides are already twisting in a knot as she settles back on his lap and lets the rough material of his jeans against the softness of her cotton panties spread a prickling sensation through her pelvis area. Quickly, she resumes undulating her hips, gripping back at Harry’s neck to pull him in a languid kiss, pleasure vibrating against their lips. It is not long before her pace picks up, and her eyes shut at the intensity of her bliss. "That’s it, pet. Already makin’ a mess of me. You’re doin’ so well," he coaxes her with his words.

As promised, y/n feels the lips of her sensitivity start to throb at her impending release, the sensation making her clamp her thighs tighter around his meaty limb. As her knee now presses against his bulge, Harry cries his sudden pleasure out in her mouth, and that’s all it takes for her to let her orgasm consume her. She unravels on top of him, one of her hands shooting to cup at her pussy in an attempt to quell the overwhelming throb. Harry draws soothing caresses down her back as he look at the sticky mess she’s left in her panties, damp patch matching the one tainting the material of his jeans. "All ruined, just as they should be," he smirks at the sight before giving her a sweet kiss.

Flushed skin and blown pupils, she slowly regains her breath, "take off your pants and take me to bed now?" she requests.

"You’re quite demanding for someone who’s just gotten off," he keeps taunting her. After all, winding her up has always been one of his favorite thing to do, and dare he say in the past two years, he’s gotten quite good at pushing her buttons. Now he’s got new ones to figure out and play with, the thoughts has him pulsing in his jeans.

Y/n doesn’t relent in her advances, she’s never been one to bow at his mockery, "thought you like how bossy I could be. Something about the way I put you in your place, if my memory serves right."

"Anytime, anywhere, you’re the boss of me, love. But this," he cups at her cunt, adding pressure on her clit, "this is mine to have. Understood?"

Y/n’s about to combust from all the desire firing up every one of her nerve-endings. His words might be the strongest aphrodisiac she’s ever experienced, she can’t wait to see what more tricks in has up his sleeves. "Now get up and show me the way to your room, pet," he softly commands before leaving a peck on her cheek.

They both get up from the couch, and y/n guides them both down the hallway to her room, her hand wrapped in his tightly. Once they’re standing by the bed, Harry is surprised to face a patient y/n, biting her lips and awaiting his next directive. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more turned on in his life, "undress me, love" he murmurs against her skin after kissing her forehead.

His jeans are quickly discarded but before his boxer briefs follow suit, y/n can’t help but tease him in reprisal, "looks like I’m not the only one who made a mess in their panties."

He lets out a boisterous laugh while she smears open mouth kisses along his stretching jaw, "mmm, I’d rather make a mess somewhere else," his innuendo causing her to gasp while he works the strap of her bra. Once she’s gotten rid of his last piece of clothing, his cock springs up, free of it’s confines, dollop of pre-come already pearling at his tip, and sticking to the skin of his stomach.

With a gentle grip at her hair, he has y/n’s head tilted backward, to let his mouth make its way towards her already pebbled nipples. Since she can’t look down, y/n blindly reaches out to wrap her hand around Harry’s thick shaft and starts massaging him in languid strokes. "Your hand feels so fuckin’ good around me, pet, I wanna fuck you so badly," he hisses around her nipple, before kissing his way back up to her lips.

He starts backing her towards the bed in small steps, but she brings a hand to his chest at the feeling of the edge of the mattress brushing against the back of her knee, "wait, wait, wanna taste you first," she insists and Harry doesn’t think he could ever say no to that face, no matter how much he wants to just sink home inside of her in this moment.

"Fuck, you’re killin’ me, love," he pinches at her waist and lays his forehead against hers, "you want my cock in your pretty mouth, before I drive it home in your cunt, is that it?" She nods, eyes turning into two lustful fireballs. "Okay, love, but y’ can’t keep it on your tongue fo’ too long, cause I really need to fuck you, alright?"

Y/n hastens to lower herself when he bids her "right then, on your knees and open wide fo’ me," and her brows furrow in confusion as she watches him stray from her spot. Picking up a plush cushion from her bed, he places it on the ground for her to knee upon, "there love, want you to be comfortable," he runs his fingers through her hair, and her heart grows three sizes bigger at how tender he can be in amidst his filthy ways.

Sensually, y/n brings her lips around the crown of his cock, her tongue teasing its way across the salty skin. Once she’s licked up all the previous mess, she starts working her way down his cock, hand stroking at the base. After bopping up and down a few time, she removes her month from his swelling cock, and lets a string of spit fall down onto its head and make its way to his balls. "S’right, pet. Get me wet," Harry rasps in appreciation. Now that she’s got him properly slicked, she goes back to pumping his hardening cock and takes him into her warm inviting mouth, determined to have him all the way inside. She feels her throat expands to accommodate his thickness, and the pressure makes Harry tighten his hold in her hair, "fuck, that’s it, love. Take me good."

Muscles already tensing up in preparation for his climax, when y/n’s hand finds his full and swollen balls to roll them together like dice, he is quick to calm her zeal, "Christ pet, you gotta stop before I can’t help myself," but his tone hardens when she defies his demand, "come on now, s’enough."

Once she pulls off, the sight of her flushed face and puffy lips induces an animalistic groan to come out from his chest, as he thumbs through the wetness coating her chin. Taking the hand resting on his hip to guide her up, he captures her lips in a searing kiss, the taste of his arousal blending in their mouths.

His hands come down to knead at the flash of her ass, before he scoops her up and on the bed with a quick flex of his biceps. "Harry, please," she whines in impatience, hands gripping at his sides to pull him down against her. His rock hard cock slides against her clothed pussy, pins and needles cruising along their skin and only fueling their eagerness.

"Need me in your belly, pet?" Harry keeps working her up, as he slides her soiled panties down her legs, "need me to fuck you so good, you forget I was ever a jerk?"

She’s putty in his hold, legs wrapping around his waist to feel the pressure of his member on her bare lips , "yes, yes, I wan’ it," she pleads.

Harry would love to tease her further, have her writhing and proper begging underneath him, but at this point it would be self-torture to even consider. Instead he pumps at his shaft to give himself some relief, their sex so close his knuckles graze at her clit every time his fist comes at the top. "You ready?" Harry utters softly while spreading and skimming her cleft with the head of his cock. It has y/n gripping at his hair, a series of delirious ‘yes’ tumbling form her mouth, so he doesn’t wait a second more to push his tip past her threshold and begins his descent in her warmth. "Fuck, t’feels so good. So wet, and tight, and warm," he thinks out loud once he’s stuffer her full, balls pressing against her ass.

Y/n whimpers against his lips, urging him to start moving to quell the building pressure coiling in her belly. A slow roll of his hips finally gives her reprieve causing her to moan in gratitude. She’s already so close, it baffles her how this man could have her coming apart at the seams without doing much. His thrusts starts gaining zeal then, betraying his own yearning to take the final leap. "So tight, love. Can feel you squeezin’ me, are you close already? Is my girl gonna cum fo’ me again?" he grunts in her ear while he pounds into her dripping cunt. Y/n doesn’t offer a response, too caught up in a daze of bliss, but her clenching muscles is all the answer he needs to start nudging his thumb at her clit. A several flicks across the sensitive bud later, her orgasm is pulsing through every bone and fiber of her body, walls hugging Harry’s cock so tight, it has to pause his hammering.

Waiting for her to catch her breath, he peppers delicate kisses along her cheek, "was that good, love? Think you can give me another, uhm?" he asks when she’s regained some of her senses. The pressure at his groin is growing more and more the longer his cock remains unmoving entombed within her vice, and the luscious agony must be written all over his face, "yes, Harry, wanna be good for you" y/n cups his jaw tenderly.

He nods at her approval, "good girl," delivers a sweet earnest kiss to her pouty lips as he pulls out and spins her around to lay on her stomach. His hand brushes the hair off her skin so he can sew a string of kisses at her shoulder blades and neck. Painfully red, his cock is propped between her buttcheeks, "can I take you like that?" he punctuates his inquiry by rolling his hips backward, tip lingering at her soaked entrance. Y/n clutches the sheets firmly, as she murmurs a faint ‘please’, back arching at the thrills consuming her mind.

Harry plunges in her wet core in one smooth swing, hand digging at her hip to keep her steady as the other one interlaces with hers to lay on the mattress above her head. Unforgiving lunges have y/n cinch around him, face buried in the sheets and muffling salacious wails of pleasure, and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to steer from his end for much longer. He slows his cadence to steady and firm strokes, slipping a hand around her waist to polish her swell.

A million tremors spark off the onset of Y/n’s climax as she shudders in a firework of ecstasy. Harry doesn’t relent until he’s worked her through completion and can no longer stop the coil in his loins from snapping. His release fills her in several spurts of wet warmth before he flops down next to her, positively fucked out.

They both lay unmoving in comfortable bliss for a few minutes, before y/n plops her head on his chest and an arm around his torso, her leg sneaking in between his. "Well, here goes two years of sexual tension," Harry says jokingly, fingers drawing abstracts design on the skin of her back. It might just be his favorite canvas to paint on from now, he muses before chastising himself at the onslaught of filthy thoughts tagging along. A playful slap on his abdomen takes his mind out of the gutter, "don’t ruin the moment," y/n says in fake admonition before placing a tender kiss on the spot she just abused.

"M’sorry, love. M’just really chuffed to be in your bed finally," the last word reminding her that while she’s struggled to come to term with her feelings for him, ransacking her mind for a possible change of heart, he’d only seen her in but one light. The revelation still has her floored and giddy, "can I ask you something?" she asks as there was still one question pacing back and forth the pathways of her mind. Harry hums in acquiescence, "anythin’ love, by brain is yours."

She feels his hand cradling her skull followed by a small peck to her forehead, and she smiles at the gesture, "why did you stay away that night at the exhibition when you got the prize? Why not coming forward?" It’s been bugging her brain since it happened. Although she didn’t have much insight on anything at the time, most of the pieces of the puzzle fell in place after the big reveal; but this, she still can’t make sense of.

Harry lets out a long breath, organizing his thoughts, "two reasons," he starts off tiredly. "One, I kinda like having this secret business going on, and like, as long as nobody knows, I am in control of how and when it happens, you know? And the moment I let go of that, I can’t go back." He searches her face for any hint of confusion but she’s just patiently listening. "Two, when we bumped into each other at the gala, I got convinced you’d never see me differently regardless of how good a painter I was; and that had become a big part of who El Patrón was."

It’s the first time she hears his alter ego’s name from his mouth and with how flowingly natural it sounded coming out of his lips, y/n suspects that it’d been a conscious decision on his part. She recalls their interaction that night, the way they fell in their usual ways of ping-ponging vindictive words until one of them has enough and leaves the premises (usually y/n). A lump starts forming in her throat at the recollection of all the other fights they’ve had and how they’d all been pointless wastes of time and energy, now that she knows she is meant to be in his arms. She wishes things could have been different but the warmth of his body around her overweighs her regrets. They’re here now, looking bright toward the future, and it’s all that matters.

"I’ll keep your secret if you want, be the Lilly to your Hannah Montana," she tells him lightly before they both laugh at the silly reference.

Happiness and glee has Harry tightening his hold around her shoulder, "nah, I don’t wanna play double-agents anymore. I wanna be the guy who gets the girl." He dips his head to catch her lips between his own, reveling in their newfound intimacy. Turning her face against his chest, Y/n impresses her bashful smile on his swallow-tattooed skin, before she lays a trail of pecks tickling the area underneath his armpits, "well, you got me now."

➪ Masterlist

#harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #Harry fic #enemies to lovers #angst #so much angst #smut #I didn't think I could be this filthy lol #uni au #artstudent!harry #art #harry fanfic #harry styles writing #reader insert #harry styles au

179 notes · View notes

vanderlustwords · 5 years ago

Text

Under the Sheets

(not my gif)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Prompt: 9) There’s only one bed, and we sleep as far away as possible from each other but wake up cuddling

Requester: Anonymous

Summary: Bucky spends more time out of his dorm than in it with how much his roommate amorously makes love to his girlfriend. Luckily, his cute across-the-hall neighbor is generous about lending her place to him. Bucky’s unsure if he wants to hug or kiss his roommate for putting him in the situation he is in now.

Note: Thank you for sending this in! :) This trope is the OG.

Count: 3948

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You would say that every meeting you've had with James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes is always a series of unfortunate events.

The first time was when you were locked outside of your dorm room because you're an idiot without a roommate. Since it wasn't your first incident, you were very reluctant to call the campus security guard to let you in. You're pretty sure he hates you.

Luckily, across the hall, you had some new neighbors.

"You must be James-"

"Bucky, please," he offers you an easy, charming smile.

"Bucky, nice to meet you," you smiled back.

You had been standing outside your door for quite sometime when Bucky came back, explaining how Steve was out with his girlfriend. As it would be, Bucky knew how to pick a locked door open. You only got a laugh when you asked him about such questionable skills he had.

The next time you met Bucky was when you spilled your grocery bags all over the floor before entering into your building. Bucky seemed to just arrive home from his afternoon classes.

"This is so embarrassing," you muttered with flushed cheeks as Bucky helped you pick everything up.

"Well, no use crying over spilled milk."

"I haven't bought milk," you joked, causing him to laugh. Bucky had helped you carry your groceries in.

"No roommate?" He looked around the place, seeing how the extra room you had turned into a study room.

"Nope! Well, I mean, I had one earlier in the year, but she moved out after 3 months to transfer to another university. They didn't assign me with anyone else."

"Lucky," Bucky sighed.

"Roommate problems?" You raised your brow. You had come to know that Bucky and Steve have been friends since they were in diapers, now seemingly grown and going to university together too.

It seemed hard to believe the two friends would not like rooming together.

"Not problems, per se," Bucky licked his lips. "Just Steve likes to bring Peggy over a lot, and she stays the night often. I guess her roommate is kind of a psychopath."

You nodded slowly and understandingly. It was probably difficult to get studying done or sleep with hearing your roommate fuck at night.

"Well," you offer him a nervous smile, "you are always welcome here if you need the space to study."

"Thanks, doll."

It seems after that, Bucky took your offer quite seriously. Over the next few weeks, he would show up to your place in the evening needing some quiet to work on his papers and upcoming tests.

You certainly didn't mind the company, sometimes having the place to yourself could be a little lonely when everyone else had their roommates to hang out with.

It was almost kind of nice—an easy friendship brewing between the two of you.

The thought of dating never really crossed your mind because you weren't ignorant of the fact that Bucky was wildly popular across campus. Steve was too, but Peggy Carter was also wildly popular herself, making them a dream couple.

So, all sorts of people were trying to put themselves on Bucky's radar.

And, well, you were just you.

You were just flittering through your university life. You had friends, of course, game nights were on Friday, and went out on the occasional weekend to drink.

Really, the only time you got to spend time with Bucky was within your dorm building.

"I brought takeout!" Bucky holds up thick bags with food. You can smell the contents right away and smile.

"Thai food?" You smile, hopeful, in case you're somehow wrong.

Bucky grins at you as you let him in. He puts the bags on the counter, and you help him take the things out.

"Yeah, I saw you staring at their building while I was on the way to class the other day," he laughs. "How long did you stand there?"

You felt your cheeks warm at being caught by someone.

"Only ten minutes," you mumble.

Bucky licks his tongue against his bottom lip, smiling at you as he takes a seat.

You moan, almost a little inappropriately when you take your first bite.

"God, it's been way too long," you sigh happily as you munch away.

Bucky laughs, "For someone who likes Thai food so much, I don't see you eat it too often."

You shrug. "Thai food is one of those things where there's a lot of dishes that are shared. My friends, unfortunately, don't share my love for Thai food."

"Blasphemous!" Bucky gasps dramatically and jokingly, but you follow along with a firm nod.

"That's what I've been saying!"

Bucky grins. "Alright, how about your boyfriend?"

You roll your head over to Bucky with a look. "I think as often as you spend here, you should know by now I don't have one."

"Just checking," Bucky shrugs. "Any particular reason why?"

You quirk your brow at him. "Well, I'll tell you if you tell me why you haven't got a girl. Lord knows you don't have a shortage of options."

Bucky chuckles as he looks at you, scooping more food into your mouth. His eyes soften for just a moment.

"Just waiting on the right girl is all," he says, looking back at his food when you look up at him.

"Ah, then we're two peas in a pod," you smile, "I'm also waiting for the right person, and unfortunately, the only guys on my roster right now are frat boys."

You scrunch your face a little, and Bucky lets out a burst of laughter at your expression.

"Any particular reason for that?" He asks.

"One of my friends is in a sorority," you sigh. "She thinks she can get me to join if she shoves hot guys my way. I'm actually going to get dragged to a party on Saturday."

"Well," Bucky licks his lip, "is it working?"

"Not even in the slightest," you smirk.

Bucky grins.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

"I don't want to study anymore, my brain is melting," Bucky groans as he leans back against your couch with his head facing the ceiling.

His eyes shut as he tries to make all the words disappear from his head, and you laugh at him.

"It's only been two hours," you point out. "Don't you have a huge test on Saturday afternoon?"

"I can't," Bucky moans dramatically. "I can't anymore. I should accept my inevitable doom and fail."

You roll your eyes with a smile as you lean forward and close his books. "Alright, drama queen. I think you just need a break. Why don't we just put on a movie?"

"Annnnd, now my brain is unmelting," Bucky sits up with an excited twinkle in his eye.

You end up watching three movies, but by the third movie, you fall asleep.

Bucky sits there, eyes drifting to you with ease as the movie plays on.

You snored a little, causing him to smile involuntarily.

Alright, Bucky admits, you were just beyond adorable to him.

But finding the right person also takes time.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

Friday night is game night.

Your friends get much too rowdy as you try to quiet them down, knowing Bucky is probably trying to study across the hall.

One of your friends drinks way too much and ends up passing out on the couch, dead to the world.

"Alright, let's call it a night," you yawn as you stand up and stretch. It's well past 1 AM as your friends get up.

"Should we wake him?" One of your friends asks.

"Nah, just leave him. I don't even know if he will wake up," you and your friends share a quick laugh as they leave your building.

"Don't forget we have the party tomorrow," your friend, Mary Jane, pulls you in for a hug.

"Right," you drawl, "Another attempt to find me a gross, frat boyfriend?"

"I mean, show me another guy on your roster, and I won't try to drag you to these parties," Mary Jane laughs.

You made some noise of agreement as you pat her back before she lets go, walking to the door and giving you a little wave before leaving.

You stretch again before you go to your closet to bring out an extra blanket and set it over your friend. You grab a glass of water and some Advil because you know that poor sucker will feel it tomorrow.

You look in the fridge and groan when you see you've run out of eggs. Typically, you wouldn't mind getting them in the morning, but your friend was someone who needed food immediately when they were hungover. You weren't willing to wake up any earlier to get the eggs in the morning, so you closed the fridge and got ready to head to the 24-hour convenience store down the block.

You were casually scrolling through your phone as you left your apartment. When you opened the door, you could hear some...sounds from Bucky's apartment, and you felt instant pity for the man. You were ready to leave the building when a figure sitting in the lobby scared the shit out of you.

"Holy fuc--Bucky?"

Bucky looked up with slightly bleary eyes, and it looks like he was still studying as he had his textbook in his lap along with his notebook.

"Oh, what are you doing down here?" He asked, sounding rather tired.

"What are you doing down here?" You retorted. "It's almost 2 AM. Don't you have a huge test tomorrow?"

"...Steve and Peggy had a fight..." Bucky pressed his lips together, and you don't need to ask further that the noises you heard earlier were them making up.

You wheedle from foot to foot while you look at Bucky. He looks exhausted, and you feel awful he's been sitting out here for God knows how long.

"How long were you out here for?"

"I don't know," Bucky shrugs, "Couple hours?"

You sigh. "Why didn't you just let me know. You could've come over."

"It was game night for you, wasn't it?" Bucky blinks because he was pretty sure he saw your sorority friend leave about 10 minutes ago.

You let out a pretty deep sigh, holding your hand out in front of him.

He scrunches his brows.

"C'mon," you wiggle your fingers, "come get some eggs with me, and you can crash at my place tonight."

Bucky gives you a light grin as he closes his textbook and grabs your hand as you put very little effort into pulling him up.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

There's a body.

In the place where Bucky thought he was going to sleep.

You don't seem to pay any mind to it as you put the eggs and orange juice away in the fridge.

Bucky is thinking a mile a minute.

The couch was taken, and the extra room you had was turned into a study room.

Was he supposed to sleep on the carpet? Were you going to give him a sleeping bag?

"Hey," Bucky grabs your attention, "Where should I crash?"

You shut the fridge door, running your hand through your hair as you make your way to your room.

"We can just bunk in the same bed," you say with a shrug, and Bucky thinks he might have a heart attack.

"You're okay with that?" Bucky asks slowly.

You shrug again, "Yeah, I bunk with people all the time. Don't you? It's like part of the university experience."

Bucky doesn't know how to say that he's probably doing more than just sleeping when he bunks with someone.

You turn around and lean at your doorframe, quirking your brow with a smirk.

"Don't tell me you aren't enough of an adult to share a bed with me."

Getting a rise out of Bucky seems to work as Bucky stalks into your bedroom.

"I'll show you an adult," he mutters childishly, and you roll your eyes with a smile.

And although Bucky says such big words, he's lying stiff as a board on the bed. He lies as close to the edge as possible without falling with his back turned to you, and you can't help but chuckle a little.

"You can unclench, you know. I hardly doubt you'll get some rest if you lie there like a metal rod," you say, but you're also lying pretty close to the edge with your back turned to him, though not as stiff.

It's silent for a moment, but eventually, you feel the bed shift a little as Bucky relaxes.

It's silent again, and you feel yourself starting to fall asleep.

"Who was that on your couch?" Bucky asks, breaking the silence.

"Hm?" You hum, opening your eyes slightly. "Oh, just a friend. He usually doesn't come to game night, but his boyfriend is visiting back home this weekend. He went a little too hard on the drinks."

"He's gay?"

"Yeah, got a problem?" You ask almost daring Bucky to say he does.

"Definitely not," Bucky smiles.

It's silent again.

"So--"

"Go to sleep, dumbass, you have a test in the morning," you say without opening your eyes. You hear Bucky chuckle softly.

"Goodnight, doll."

"Goodnight," you smile.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

Warm.

Bucky felt warm. Maybe a little too warm.

He hasn't opened his eyes yet, but he can feel sunlight hitting his face and hear the birds chirping outside.

Bucky takes a deep breath in and feels shifting in his arms. He moves a little, pulling the warmth in closer.

He roughly hums in the back of his throat when he feels lips press against his collarbone.

It hits him like a freight train.

Bucky immediately opens his eyes, his body becoming rigid again as you come into view.

What started with the two of you sleeping at the furthest edges of the bed with your backs turned to each other ended up being the very opposite.

Sometime during the middle of the night, the two of you gravitated towards the middle of the bed. You were wrapped up in his arms, head just under his chin. He could feel your breath on the base of this throat, and it was giving him goosebumps.

Your hands were wrapped around his back, gripping his shirt slightly. Bucky couldn't even move too much with your legs intertwined with his. A groan wanted to escape his lips with his thigh wedged between your legs.

Bucky tried to move slowly without waking you.

He really did.

But then you let out a whine, holding him tighter and clenching your legs to lock his thigh in.

"Stop moving," you whined.

God, Bucky doesn't think he'll make it. He's already got morning wood, and this is too much.

He calls your name in an attempt to wake you up.

"Doll, you gotta get up, I have a test soon," he says instead when you hardly react to him calling your name.

This time, you do blearily open your eyes with a huff.

You untangle yourself from him as Bucky lets out a quiet sigh of relief. Sitting up, you let out a yawn and let out a big stretch, your shirt riding a little up as you do.

You look at your clock.

"Alright, there's about an hour before your test. Eat some breakfast before you go."

"It's really fin--"

"Break. fast."

You leave the room, and Bucky is left sitting there by himself. The morning passes quickly as you make breakfast. The sounds nor the smell seem to wake your friend up.

"Good luck on your test!" You smile at him as you make him a breakfast sandwich for him to go.

Bucky smiles back with a 'thanks' before he leaves your place confused.

Did this morning not affect you at all? Did you not see him as a man?

Bucky was distracted during the whole test.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

You held your smile until you heard the footsteps fade from your door.

After that, you nearly screamed. You stalked over to your hungover friend and whipped a pillow into his face.

"Ack!" He wakes up, nearly falling off the couch. He groans instantly when he sees your face.

"I'm so hungover, oh my god," your friend moans.

Your face feels hot as it's flushed in embarrassment. "This is all your fault for drinking too much and crashing on the couch! I should've pushed you onto the floor!"

You let out a groan before you stalked off to the washroom, closing the door.

Your friend sits up, looking at the plate of eggs and bacon on the table.

"What'd I do?"

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

The entire day leading up to the party is spent with you trying to contain your embarrassment. You're trying to repress the memory of being pressed up against Bucky and clingy.

You didn't hear from Bucky after his test, and you were much too mortified to say anything, so you hadn't texted him either.

"You look constipated, please take some shots and relax," Mary Jane hands you tequila with a lime slice.

You shoot back the shot without hesitation.

"Alright," Mary Jane whistles, "Do I even want to know what's got your panties in a knot?"

"Nope," you shake your head.

"Alright, fair enough. Get some more drinks and mingle!" Mary Jane turns her attention past you. You look behind and see her current boyfriend, Harry, enter the room with kegs.

You sigh when Mary Jane looks at you with puppy eyes.

"Go," you tell her. She squeals and kisses you on the cheek before rushing off.

You do flitter through the party, catching up with some friends, and getting some drinks.

As embarrassed as you are, the last thing you want is to get sloppy, so you don't overdo it.

But as you already know, luck is never on your side.

Especially when you see Bucky walking into the party. People are getting excited and rushing up to say hi to him because Bucky rarely goes to frat parties.

The two of you lock eyes instantly, and the memory of this morning rushes back, and you wished the ground would open up and swallow you.

'Play it cool,' you tell yourself as you turn back to the group of people you're standing with.

You're not even sure what they've been talking about, and there's no way you could focus on that now.

Bucky doesn't seem to be rushing up to you either. He's drinking a beer with Harry as a crowd surrounds them.

You can see girls in the back looking at him and whispering, and you feel the burn in your gut now for some reason.

God, were you such a cliché that sharing a bed with Bucky actually made you think that way about him?

The night seems to continue on, and even though you keep catching eyes with Bucky, neither of you seems willing to make the first move.

You head over to the bar to get more drinks when someone approaches you and orders you a drink.

You internally groan.

Brock Rumlow.

A real piece of work.

He made it into Theta Chi, well-known to be a troublemaker.

He was known to sleep around and make unwanted advances towards girls and was hardly passing his classes.

Brock had turned his attention to you lately, which you flat out rejected him. It helped that you were friends with Mary Jane, who was dating Harry, the president of Theta Chi, and could tell Brock to back off.

But Brock Rumlow liked to push his boundaries.

"You look pretty good tonight, did you dress pretty for me?" He smirks at you, and you roll your eyes.

"Fuck off, Rumlow. I already told you I'm not interested," you look away, not bothering to take the drink he ordered for you.

"Now don't be like that, you haven't even gotten to know me yet," Brock leans against the counter close to you.

"And as I've explicitly told you, no," you whip your head back and glare at him.

You're about to walk off and see if you could find Mary Jane and Harry when Brock grabs your arm.

"What the fuck-" You start to say when another arm comes into view, grabbing Brock's wrist.

You look over to see Bucky standing there with his lip pressed into a thin line as he grips Brock's wrist hard enough until he lets go.

"Ow--what's your problem, dude?" Brock holds his wrist before shaking the pain off.

"Keep your hands off her," Bucky cocks his brow as he stands in front of you.

"How about you mind your business," Brock glares at him. "What? Are you her boyfriend?"

Bucky is standing so close to you that you can see his muscles tense, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around him from behind.

"Yes," you interrupt as Bucky lifts his arm over you and then around you so that you're tucked by his side. "He is my boyfriend."

You look up with a loving smile, trying to play the part when you find Bucky's steel-blue eyes gazing back at you.

He licks his lips, teeth dragging over his bottom lip, you swear so slowly before he smirks and looks back at Brock.

"So," Bucky keeps smiling, "fuck off."

"You could've just said you had a boyfriend," Brock grumbles at you like it's your fault somehow.

"My girlfriend doesn't have to say anything. Do you need to be taken back to elementary school to understand what 'no' or 'I'm not interested' means?" Bucky cocks his brow, and Brock sneers at him.

He looks like he wants to cause a scene, but Bucky is a well-known guy around campus, even if he's not in a fraternity house. Brock knows nothing good would come from starting a fight with Bucky, and he's already on thin ice with Harry.

And Bucky knows that.

So, he turns to you with a smile.

"C'mon, doll, let's get out of here."

As you get ready to leave, Bucky turns to Brock once more with a steely look on his face.

"Stay the fuck away from my girl."

Bucky actually leads you out of the party, saying a brief goodbye to Harry and Mary Jane, who wiggles her brows at you, and you're so grateful to have left.

The two of you walk silently but slowly back to the apartment, and you've got your arms wrapped around your midsection.

You cough, bringing Bucky's attention to you as you come to a stop under the streetlight.

"Thanks," you say a little awkwardly, "for you know, playing along."

Bucky smiles lightly.

"If those are the kind of guys on your roster, I think you should expand your horizons a little."

"Not all of us can have a guy like you on our list, but I'll take that under advisement."

You laugh, trying to play it off as a joke because even though it was all just pretend for a moment, being pressed up against Bucky as his girlfriend shouldn't have felt as good as it did.

"You can add me to your roster."

The words were said so smoothly you had almost missed it. You turn your head to Bucky, who's standing there with his hands in his pockets.

"What?" You say unsurely, convinced you might've heard him wrong.

"I told you I was waiting for the right girl," Bucky smiles, "I'm waiting for you, doll."

You feel an explosion of butterflies in your stomach, cheeks heating up as you process Bucky's words.

Every meeting you've had with Bucky is a series of unfortunate events.

And perhaps between every moment, while waiting for the right guy to come along, it only took waking up in his arms to realize maybe he was there all along.

#v.myfic #g.fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #avengers imagine #modern avengers au #avengers au #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine

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crescentsteel · 4 years ago

Text

Keeping a Secret - Part 3

pairing: Tsukishima x f!manager of Sendai Frogs genre: sexual tension/crack/fluff/slow burn warnings: lots of swear words, tsukki being a a closet softie wc: 7.3k (Ill just stop apologizing for this long chapter updates at this point)

[a/n]

Let me know if you want to be part of the taglist uwu

AO3

Part 2 || Part 4 || masterlist

“Remind me again why are we here.” Tsukishima tells you as soon as he steps foot inside your room.

He scans the room and immediately notices the mess that it is, particularly the top bunk of the bed which he doesn’t doubt must be your share of it.

On the wall on the left side of the room are posters of seascapes and sea animals of different varieties while the desk bolted under it are framed photos of Sendai Frogs. He recognizes them all;, one was taken from the first win of the team on the first year you joined as the manager. The second is a photo of the team at the gym with the new members that year, including Kyoutani who had just recently joined. The last one is a selfie of you on the bus doing a peace sign and winking at the camera while everyone was sleeping.

He kinda feels bad for your roommate now. You’re practically hogging the whole room.

You put down your bag on the floor and shoot him a confused look. “To do our project?”

When you told him to meet in your dorm, he agreed because he thought you meant the common area. After all, he had no reason to think you’d invite him to your room. You two may have disregarded the club incident, tucking it away as a sordid memory from a night of insanity, but that doesn’t mean it is forgotten. However, that doesn’t seem to be the case with you as you appear to genuinely find nothing wrong with the current situation.

You seat yourself at your table, taking out your laptop and notes from the trip last time.

“Go sit, Tsukishima,” you say without even looking at him as you spread out your notes on the table’s surface as your laptop boots up.

“We could’ve just done this in the library, or at least in the lobby,” he says as a matter-of-factly.

“True, but I also don’t see any problem with doing it here,” you answer passively, still occupied with arranging your papers.

He was right. It really does not bother you at all. So, he shouldn’t be bothered with it either. This way, at least, no one would see you and him together. You’re a person he doesn’t want to be associated with hanging around with anyways.

“Do you always invite your groupmates to your room?” He asks out of curiosity since it didn’t seem like anything for you to just invite him in, as if you didn’t care much about your privacy.

“Hmm. Depends,” you answer.

He takes out his own laptop, but still eyes you as he prods further. “On what?”

The curve of your lips tugs up slightly as you sit up straight and lift your gaze away from the notes you took out and finally turn your attention to him.

“I welcome those who won’t get handsy with me.”

“Even if you’re the one who’d get handsy with them?” he boldly counters.

You cock your head to the side with hints of amusement playing across your features, which vexes him. The question was supposed to tear your composure, not entertain you.

“Alright, let’s get the fucking elephant out of the room since it bothers you so much,” you announce with levity.

If you’re going to be honest, the kiss still finds its way to your mind sometimes. You just keep pushing it off so that you won’t get stressed out by it. What you find interesting is that he still keeps shoving that fact that you kissed him as if you wanted to do so.

Well, you literally did kiss him, but it’s not like you sought for it prior to the incident.

It just … happened.

“I’ll come clean, good sir, if you’ll allow me,” you declare sarcastically before setting a more serious tone. “I admit it. It was one hell of a mistake to kiss you. But I didn’t mean to. As ridiculous as it sounds, I really didn’t. It was just one of those stupid, off-the-cuff things people do.”

Your voice takes an accusatory note when you ask, “And why do you sound like I harassed you or something? Hmm? ‘Cause if I remember correctly.”

You cross your arms and look up, pretending to be deep in thought before facing him again with a fraudulent shock. “Oh right!” you exclaim exaggeratedly. “You kissed me back,” you add in almost a sing-song manner.

You put an elbow on the table and rest your cheek on your palm as you hold his glare with a snide grin. “How about that?”

He continues shooting daggers at you but you don’t falter. Quite soon enough, he lets up and returns to the passive, apathetic face he usually wears, which signals your victory for the argument. “Like you said, it was one of those dumb on the spot whims.”

You nod agreeably. “Alright, great. Now that that has been established, let me reassure you. It’s never ever gonna happen again. Ever.”

Your eyes are devoid of any humor while your words drip with firm resolve. Yet, he finds it off that you’re not asking him to do the same given that you both just agreed that you are equally accountable for that imprudent act. He is almost just as guilty.

“Aren’t you going to ask the same from me?”

Your somber expression breaks into a humored one as a laugh rumbles from your throat. You shake your head in comical delight while you look at him. “No, I won’t. Actually...” you drift off as you scoot closer to him until you’re right beside him. “Give it your best shot.”

You close your eyes and tilt your chin up. Did you really just dare him to kiss you? Kiss those stupid lips and have a repeat of that appalling night?

Should he?

He would do it just to erase the smug off your face, just to prove you wrong. But similar to that night, he can’t bring himself to do it. He hates the idea of instigating such a thing.

Even more so now that he’s already had a taste of those lips. Those lips that felt too exquisite that it infuriated him. Those lips that took away his logical thinking. With you offering those lips to him so generously, you make him hate them even more. That pretty face and that playful smile of yours do nothing but add to his fury.

“Can you get your face away from me?”

You peek one eye open before bursting into laughter, making his displeasure towards you skyrocket. Why the fuck is he always your laughing stock?

“See? This is why I don’t mind you coming over, Tsukishima. I bet if I strip naked right now, you’d walk out in a heartbeat.”

His scowl deepens. The mental image of your unclad body is very much unwelcome and unappreciated. “Bring that up again and I really will leave,” he snaps.

Even with your smile intact, your humored expression dissolves a bit and is replaced by a curious guise.

“You know, everyone likes me except you,” you say with no shred of diffidence.

You really are full of yourself. You might be ‘likeable’ for a lot of people, but that doesn’t mean every single person you meet actually likes you. He’s certain there are people who you rub off the wrong way -- people like him.

“Isn’t that a bit too conceited, even for you?”

You shrug your shoulders indifferently. “Maybe so. But you’re the only person who shoves your blatant dislike on my face.”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it for the past three years,” he replies as he flips his laptop open and boots it up so he can turn his attention somewhere other than you.

“I didn’t need to work with you like this for the past three years.”

He doesn’t know where you’re going with the conversation so he doesn’t respond anymore. He’s certain you know why he finds you a pain in the neck. You constantly get on his grill with every opportunity you get. Maybe if you didn’t, he could actually tolerate your topsy turvy persona. But it’s as if it’s your personal mission to aggravate him.

“I’m putting the deal I offered during the trip,” you announce.

“What deal?” he asks as he starts typing bullet points of what should be done today so he can go home already.

“Forget I’m the annoying manager when it’s just us two. And I won’t deliberately piss you off.”

He types the last bullet point before returning his attention on you. “Then what? I suddenly become nice to you?”

“Hell no! I’m not asking for a fucking miracle. It’s not like you’re ever nice to anybody. Geez!” you explain derisively. “I just want us to have a conversation where you’re not giving me death glares.”

You give him a smile, one that lacks your usual haughtiness. Still, he can’t tell if you’re being serious or if you’ll actually manage to hold the deal you’re proposing. Truth be told, he wants it. He can’t handle you being your usual if you two have to meet beyond training hours and, even worse, in private.

If this keeps up, he might end up cursing this subject by the end of the semester, which would be a waste because likes this subject way too much for you to taint it with your idiocy.

“Deliver your end of the bargain. Then you’ll have mine.”

Your eyes twinkle with glee at his semi-approval. “We have a deal then.”

You go back to where you’re seated a while ago and proceed to start discussing at hand.

With the start of the game season, training has become more intense. Coach Mira had the team work on the weak points she identified with the help of the data you tallied from last season’s games.

“Kyoutani! Do not lower those arms just yet. Keep those elbows up when you block,” Coach yells at him, as Kogane spiked from the other side of the court.

She looks over at the other players practicing their jump serves. She furrows her brows at something. Following her line of sight, you see that it falls on Tsukishima.

On his next serve, the ball spins ferociously but is of low height that it hits the middle of the night.

“Y/n,” Coach calls out. She didn’t have to say anything else as she cocks her head to Tsukishima’s direction with a telling expression on her face. She’s asking you to handle him, and you know exactly why.

Before he can toss the ball for another jump serve, you yell out merrily which you know will definitely catch his ears, “ Tsukki!! ” and jog to where he is. His blank expression turns into a scowl when you reach him.

“Can you stop calling me that?”

“You’re so mean. Aren’t we close enough for me to call you ‘ Tsukki ’?.” You ask with a dramatic pout and exaggerated false woes that he visibly cringes after hearing it.

He doesn’t respond to your pretentious act. “Why are you here?”

You instantly lose the cheeky act and get to what Coach Mira wants to let him know. You’re just going to twist the words a bit to his ‘liking.’

This is the problem you noticed with Tsukishima, one worse than his rotten way of interacting with the team. He can be incredibly unmotivated at times, and when he is, he only gives the bare minimum amount of effort.

It’s the one thing you can say you truly dislike about him because he’s a professional athlete for crying out loud. It doesn’t matter if he’s unmotivated, uninspired, or doesn’t feel like trying. He should be disciplined enough to push himself to put as much work as he usually does when training.

“You’re not going to get those serves in with that half-assed attitude of yours,” you say sternly while you eye him with a threatening stare.

His face scrunches in utter displeasure. He’s well aware that he’s not feeling his best today and he’d rather do blocking drills for the whole raining than do ten consecutive jump serves.

“Since enthusiasm is the answer to everything else, why don’t you try it?” He bites back, which you obviously weren’t expecting. He’s always irritated when you point out his mistakes, but thus far he has always stayed silent.

Maybe the amount of time you’re spending together outside the gymnasium has made him reach the limit of his patience… which isn’t even a lot to begin with.

“Are you serious?” you ask incredulously.

Of course he wasn’t. You might have some sort of experience with volleyball (although he doesn’t know to which extent), but jump serves are difficult. The coordination of the toss and the run up to hit it at the right angle is aggravatingly hard to pull off, especially for him since jump serves need tons of practice.

He detests the practice for it; he needs to run, jump, and swing his arm over and over. It is boring and tiring for him because it is purely based on physical prowess, compared to practicing blocking where he’s actually thinking.

He thought you’d leave him alone when you stepped away. Instead, you come back with a ball in your hand. You dribble it off the floor with unbendable focus as if you’re trying to recall something.

“Are you serious?” he’s the one who asks this time. He was just fucking around. He didn’t expect you’d actually respond to his provocation.

“Yep,” you answer with your full concentration on the ball in your hand as you spin it vertically. Some of the players notice what you’re up to and briefly stop what they’re doing to watch.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You bat them open with burning determination before you toss the ball.

Instead of watching the ball, he watches your form. There’s no trace of awkwardness in your movements, almost like you’ve done this frequently before. The three-step approach is nearly perfect as you propel yourself up to jump.

The sharp sound of the ball hitting your hand causes the rest of the gym to look at you. The ball spins ferociously at a height he’s not sure is sufficient to get over the other side of the court. He wishes it won’t. That would be the second worst thing you could ever do to him, the first one being that certain occurrence he’d rather not think about again.

You falter on your feet when you descend from your leap but you immediately look up to see if your serve makes it. Everyone else, including him, is on the edge as they watch whether the ball will get in or not.

It roughly scrapes the edge of the net, effectively thwarting its velocity. Still, it bounces off and lands inside the opposing court, causing the rest of the team to cheer you on as the ball hits the floor.

You seem to forget for a short while that you did it to spite him as your face beams with inexplicable joy while his contorts with ire.

Even if the momentum of the ball was broken, you still managed to get it over - the one thing he hadn’t been able to do from his last eight attempts. Meanwhile, you did it on your first.

You definitely had a lot of experience in high school. No beginner can manage to do a jump serve like that, even if it was flawed.

‘Shit,’ he silently curses when you face him with a cocky grin disguised as a pleasant one.

“Who knew that my experience being an outside hitter and captain of my high school team would still be useful as your manager?” you ask as you slowly walk towards him.

He doesn’ expect that your knowledge about the sport came from first-hand experience. He thought you’re manager of another team previously or just a crazy volleyball enthusiast.

You pick up another ball and softly push it against his rib as you look up to him with contempt. “Don’t tell me I can do better than you,” you spur him on with squinted eyes.

He snatches the ball away from your hands and steps back from the serving line. He spins the ball one time and tosses it high. Instead of a three-step approach, he makes it a four to increase his vertical jump. He tosses it high enough and channels all his rage for you at the ball.

With how high he jumped, the ball easily goes over the net. Its trajectory curves when it crosses over and hits a spot a little bit just beyond the end line.

He clenches his fist at his another failed attempt despite exerting more than necessary effort for that shot. He avoids looking at you for he’d be put in an even worse mood if sees that taunting grin of yours.

But of course you had to make yourself seen and intentionally go in front of him with an impressed look in your face instead of a condescending one.

“That was great! Holy shit. It was just a smidge out. Wow.” You applaud him earnestly, and as much as he despises it, it makes him a little less bad about that missed shot.

“Can you leave me alone now?” He drives you away to fend off the stupid feeling. He’d rather you just walk away and don’t say anything. “Not like that serve mattered,” he mutters in annoyance.

“What are you talking about? It was awesome!” you yell out with your eyes shining with flagrant admiration, which annoyingly strokes his ego.

“Just a bit less and it would have been in a spot difficult to return,” you remark as you pat his shoulders approvingly before heeding his request to leave and go back to where Coach is.

“Sorry, Coach. I distracted everyone else,” you scratch your head with an apologetic smile when you return.

“I’d tell you off, but everyone seems more motivated now, so good work I guess,” she commends you with a satisfactory tone.

“He looks really pissed though,” Coach Mira adds as she glances at the blonde middle blocker.

“More than you know, Coach,” you reply with a wide smile as he serves another ball and gets it in this time.

Prior to your meeting with Tsukishima today, you proposed to finish the project as soon as possible so you can both focus on other other uni subjects on top of training hours. He immediately agreed, which didn’t surprise you because even though it’s not game season, you’re pretty sure he can’t wait to stop having to see you.

The project’s deadline is in three months, but you believe you can finish it in less than two if you meet up at least twice a week to work on it.

It should be okay, given that you both agreed to have a truce of some sort from the usual dynamic of your relationship. You actually think that it’s not going to work out smoothly, but you still suggested it with the hopes of decreasing his animosity towards you. Yes, it’s fun and amusing most of the time, but outside the gym where you’re just a classmate and not his manager, it’s kinda draining to deal with it.

“Won’t your roommate mind if there’s a stranger in your room?” he asks as he sits down and rummages through his bag.

“Oh.” You thought he already figured it out because he didn’t ask about it on his first visit. “Didn’t I tell you before? I don’t have a roommate.”

His eyes immediately go to your bunk bed that you didn’t bother getting replaced because it’s convenient when you’re too tired. You usually just mindlessly throw your stuff at the top bunk for a later clean-up.

“Wanted the whole room to myself,” you add.

“Spoiled, little rich brat, aren’t you?” He really doesn’t have much basis for his statement. He just wants to say something nasty and sneer at you because he wants to get back at how you called him out during training the other day.

When he meets your gaze, you raise an eyebrow at him, reminding him about your agreement while working on the project. He purses his lips to the side and returns to his passive expression without saying anything. You roll your eyes in response.

“Well if being a scholar while working as your manager is being a spoiled rich brat, then by all means. Do consider me one,” you answer before looking back on your screen.

He would have never thought you were a university scholar. You don’t look like the type. You’re way too carefree and all over the place. He would’ve thought it was a joke, if not for the tiny offended glint he caught when he said you’re a spoiled brat.

That’s exactly the reaction he wants to get from you, yet it didn’t feel satisfactory. On the contrary, it’s making him feel like a prick. He is being one, but he doesn’t expect to feel like one, especially towards you who does nothing but get on his skin.

Still, hell would freeze over before he apologizes. Instead, he prods on the topic.

“Why would you even work as a manager if you’re already a scholar?”

It doesn’t make sense to him. You don’t need the work if your university fees are already waived. It will just pile on to the academic requirements you will need to maintain.

Your hand stops scrolling on your mouse as your eyes soften, still remaining on your laptop. “Cause I love it,” you utter like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

The look in your eyes is instantly replaced by mockery when you lift them to meet his.

“Someone’s being inquisitive today.”

He gets his headphones out and plugs it to his laptop. He really is curious why you chose you to be their manager, but you just had to be an obnoxious bitch and break the agreement you offered to him just the other day.

He knows you’re too much of a chaos to actually pull it off, so instead of wasting his energy by being irritated by you for the day, he’d rather pretend you’re not there.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” you say loudly with a wide smile, yet he can see the sincerity of the apology through the slight panic in your orbs. You must have realized he’s had enough of your shit. “My bad. Old habits hard.” You laugh nervously.

You speak again when he puts down his headphones on the table. “I may have quit the sport, but I still love it. I love taking care of players like you guys who have the same passion for it.”

“Doesn’t seem like it’s worth it,” he comments with unheld honesty. You could have a lot of time off of your hands if you quit being their manager. You don’t even need the job.

You plant your hands on the floor and lean back as your gaze drifts to the photos of the team displayed on your desk.

“You might be right. A marine science student dedicating her time on sports even though she’s not an athlete? It does sound impractical. But,” you revert your eyes back to him as you continue on, “it makes me happy. That alone makes it worth it. Even if I don’t get paid, I’d still do it.”

Your face glows with pride and joy with your last statement, completely undeterred by his earlier cynicism. If anything, you look even more convinced that you’re doing the right thing.

He can’t tell if he finds it admirable or disturbing. Probably the latter.

“There’s more to life than just sleep, study, and survive, don’t you think?”

It was a rhetorical question that he would’ve still refuted if someone told him that years ago. Back in his freshman year in high school, he thought overzealous passion was stupid. Unless an individual is some sort of prodigy, it wouldn’t get them anywhere even if they keep trying to death.

Still, he put in a lot of work -- more than he should -- when he was playing in Karasuno. What was just a club became entirely something else for him, which, up until now, he still hasn’t put quite a finger on.

When he graduated from Karasuno, he wasn’t sure what to do. He wanted to continue playing, but there was a nagging feeling behind his head that he shouldn’t. He thought that that part of his life was already over and while it was good while it lasted, it was time to move one.

Yet, when he was handed out an application form for the university’s college team, he found himself grabbing the sheet of paper.

He didn’t have any reason to pursue it beyond high school. He knows he’s good, but he’s not that good. He was at university already. It was time to focus on his future and ignore the itch to hold the ball with five other players on his side of the court.

What’s even more absurd was the next day, he submitted the application form and tried out for the team. He said to himself it wouldn’t hurt to go on playing until he has finally had enough. He’d just ride it out until he got tired of it.

In his sophomore year, he was scouted by Sendai Frogs and that’s when he knew that the unreasonable passion he has for volleyball is not going to go away. Even now in his graduating semester, he’s still not ready to give it up.

He won’t admit it in your face, but, in a way, he can agree with what you just said. Life is more than just getting by and surviving. That’s the only reason he can think of to justify his choice to continue volleyball: so that he wouldn’t have this constant dissonance that pursuing the sport is a vacuous path he’s treading on.

“Anyways, back to work now, yeah?”

You smile briefly at him and return to the research you’re tasked to do. He puts his headphones back in his bag and gets back to his own task as well.

He thought all is well and you won’t pester him until you both finish what you’re supposed to accomplish for the day. Unfortunately, he thought wrong.

You suddenly close your laptop and start whining.

“Tsukki.”

As usual, he does his best to not acknowledge your existence.

“Tsukkiii, ” you whine louder.

For the love of God, you sound the most annoying when you use his nickname. Even though you’ve used it several times now, he’s still not used to it. In fact, he does not believe he will ever get used to it. Shimizu and Yachi not even once called him that, and they were more respectable managers than you are. Sort of. It doesn’t matter that you’re more active and hands on when managing the team.

“Tsuuuk -”

“What?!” You successfully manage to get his eyes off the screen.

“I’m bored,” you pout.

He glares at you unbelievably. What are you, a five-year-old?

“And that is my problem, how?” he asks with disdain.

“Aren’t you getting tired?” you ask back, unfazed by his blatant irritation. But then again, you never are.

He is getting tired too, but he’d rather drag his brains and eyes out than rest and extend the time he’s going to spend with you.

“Let’s take a break, please, ” you cry out with pleading eyes.

“I don’t care what you do. Just leave me out of it.” He puts his attention back on his laptop and looks for the journal article he found significant among the other tabs he opened.

“I’ll feel guilty if I see you still at it while I goof around,” you admit.

He really couldn’t care any less. None of what you’re blabbering about is any of his concern. If you keep at it, he’ll just take out his headphones again to drown out your childish whining.

“I know!” You suddenly perk up. “Let’s review for our quiz,” you suggest eagerly. “We have one tomorrow, right?”

He almost smirks at your suggestion, but he manages to suppress it. He’d rather not let you see that he’s pleasantly amused with your suggestion.

He didn’t expect that that was your idea of taking a break. He thought you were going to propose something completely absurd like watch stupid videos online because that’s something he could totally see you doing on your free time.

But yeah, he can definitely use a review. It would be a productive break from the strenuous researching and writing you two have been doing.

Even though he still hasn’t verbally agreed, you continue on. “To make it interesting, there’s a penalty for every wrong answer.”

He sits up straight, pushing his glasses closer to his face as you successfully gain his full attention. “What penalty?”

Your smile widens when you realize that he’s finally acknowledging your idea of taking a break.

“Okay, okay.” You rub your hands together in excitement before you clasp them together. “For every wrong answer you get, you need to say something nice about me. And of course vice versa.”

He scowls at the idea. “I prefer the opposite. Get the answer wrong and you get insulted. That sounds more of a punishment.”

You shake your head with your lips pressed into a thin line from disapproval. “Nope. If I get even one wrong answer. I’m sure you’ll get into a litany of rude shit you piled up against me over the years. And I’ll just sit here uncaringly receiving your fury. Does that excite you?”

Hell no. It will infuriate him even more if he throws something at you and you just take it apathetically. But he still doesn’t agree with your initial mechanics. It’s not fair to him.

“No, it doesn’t. But the consequence of a wrong answer is too easy for you.”

You place a palm on your chest and gape at him. “Me? Too easy for me ?”

You break into a boisterous laugh while still maintaining eye contact with him. He just stares back at you stupefied with no idea what you found so hilarious.

“Tsukishima,” you say after recovering from your disparaging hoots of laughter. “I can think of literally one nice thing about you. Maybe two if I tried hard enough,” you explain with your face still crinkled with the laughter you’re trying hard to contain.

If you’re trying to provok him to take on your challenge, you definitely succeeding. “Fine,” he hisses.

Your laughter is completely thwarted when your eyes widen with delight as he succumbs to your plan.

“Great! Okay, two more rules. One, objective questions only. Two, we can’t say anything that involves Volleyball. For example, you can’t tell me that I’m a great manager, because I’m very much aware of that already, okay?”

His frown only deepens from your conceitedness, only to realize that that’s the only aspect of you he’d consider complimenting you about.

“But there is nothing else nice about you other than that,” he says without any trace of sarcasm or ridicule, only stating what he considers the truth.

But you don’t take any offense in his statement. You’re expecting as much. That’s why you added two more rules to push the both of you to take the review seriously.

“Better not get anything wrong then,” you counter easily because it’s as simple as that. It’s a review just for a quiz after all. He shouldn’t be that worried.

“Thirty minutes to review. Then let’s start the quiz?”

You take that he’s fine with it since he closes his laptop and gets his set of notes from his bag.

You get your phone and set a thirty minute timer. You do just as he does and focus on your own notes, skimming over the last two chapters covered during lectures. You concentrate on your learning materials but the alarm sets off after what seemed like ten minutes to you.

You frantically check your phone to see if you put the wrong time, but you didn’t. Thirty minute have indeed passed.

When you glance at Tsukishima, he’s already looking at you with crossed arms and a self-satisfied smirk. He must have finished before the timer went off. He wouldn’t have that smug expression if not.

Even though you haven’t fully gone over the last parts of the lesson covered, you can’t help but be enlivened at how competitive he is. He must really hate losing.

You notice it too with the way he plays volleyball. He might look calm on the surface, but you know he wants to crush his opponents. And right now, that opponent is you.

His muted excitement affects you. Even though you’re not totally prepared, you’re confident with your own wits.

“Ladies first, so go ahead, Tsukishima.”

He clicks his tongue, his usual habit when he’s irked with something, but this one was forced to make it appear as if he didn’t like what you said. But you can tell that he doesn’t give a shit about that and he actually can’t wait to ask away just to so you can get it wrong.

Unfortunately for him though, you two are just exchanging questions when your mini game starts. He answers your questions without hesitation and you do just the same since most of his questions are in your own list that’s supposed to be for him.

“What’s the movable membrane found on the eyes of amphibians?” It’s his sixth question that has you racking your brain for the correct answer. When you don’t respond immediately, he sniggers like he’s already won.

But you do know the answer, or at least the first letter of it. It's the letter N. N-something membrane.

“Nictaling membrane,” you answer unsurely.

The spread of his wicked smile immediately tells you you’re wrong. “It’s nictating,” he corrects you.

“Oh come on! I’m just one letter off,” you strongly reason out.

“Yeah, and that would still be marked wrong in the actual quiz,” he refutes.

Damn it. He’s right. That one letter makes a whole lot of difference your professor will definitely not let go.

He places one elbow on the table and rests his chin at the back of his hand, keeping his eyes trained on you as he silently anticipates for you to pay the price of your penalty.

You bite your lip disquietly when you realize the rule you set was a double-edged sword for you can’t also think of anything nice to say about him. There’s that terrible attitude of his which is usually your source of fun, but not exactly something you can call nice.

You have something in your mind, but your pride won’t let you voice it out.

He starts tapping the table with his fingers. “You’re wasting both our time, y/n.”

You accept your defeat and tell him anyway. “Fine. I think you’re smarter than me,” you confess.

You expect him to agree unanimously, but instead he looks at you stupefied, blinking a few times without saying anything.

“But you’re a scholar,” he remarks. You’re not sure if he just disagreed with you or he’s just putting that fact out in the open.

“Well, yeah. But I’m just really good at studying and have good time management. You’re actually smart. You’re critical with stuff,” you explain.

You cheated a bit with your answer since most of your basis is from volleyball games. Although your trip last time is also proof of that. He provided really good input on how you should go about with the project.

“Okay! Moving on,” you proceed before he can comment further on what you just said and milk it to his benefit.

You ask another question, which he also knows that correct answer to. Originally, you just wanted a fun but effective way of reviewing, but now you kind of want him to get at least one question wrong so you can get even.

“What do you call the structure the lower vertebrae of anurans is fused into?” he asks another difficult question.

You rub your palms on your face, your frustration clouding your mind from recalling what it could possibly be. You push your hair back and sigh when you realize that you’re not getting this one either.

“I don’t know,” you surrender.

His current expression is the most lively one you’ve ever seen from him outside volleyball games, but it isn't a pleasant one. He looks like a villain whose evil master plan is coming to fruition.

Maybe you should’ve just agreed with his earlier suggestion to get insulted when you get it incorrectly. You would’ve just sit it out and brush it off afterwards, not make your brain hurt even more from thinking about non-existent good traits from the guy across your table.

You look around as you desperately try to think of something remotely nice about him.

“Oh,” your eyes meet his right the moment you recall that instance, and form a genuine smile as you remember it once more.

“It was real nice of you to let me lean on you on the way back to Miyagi last week.”

He removes his elbow from the table and fixes his posture, losing the lax and confident aura he had two questions ago.

“You would have woken up face down on the bus floor if I didn’t,” he says defensively as if what he did needs that explanation for it to be acceptable.

You honestly thought he’d rather let you fall flat on the floor. You’re about to ask him back then if he was sure, but you just accepted his angry, yet generous offer which you didn’t expect to come from him.

“I know. I just didn’t think you’d let me rest on your shoulder, so thanks,” you say earnestly, not a trace of your usual cheekiness present.

“It felt nice and comfortable” you add reservedly. You’ve been wanting to thank him but you didn’t know how to bring it up without being awkward for you’re only used to dealing with grouchy Tsukishima.

It’s only then you realize that despite his palpable dislike towards you, he’s not a complete asshole and still cared enough for your welfare that time.

He remains expressionless with his eyes drifting down to his notes, avoiding your gaze as he does so. “The answer is coccyx, also called urostyle,” he ushers back to the question you got wrong, dismissing what you just divulged, which you’re thankful for because you feel like fidgeting with what just dawned on you.

“My turn again then!” you said too loudly as you try to shake off the feeling and put your focus back on the review.

You read the only item left in your list, still hoping that he gets it wrong since this is the last.

“What part of the amphibian nervous system regulates heart and respiratory rates?”

Unlike previous questions, he doesn’t answer off the bat this time.

“You’re wasting both our time, Tsukishima,” you repeat what he said to you earlier even though it's only been seconds after you uttered your question.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I know the answer,” he declares with reassured confidence. “It’s the cerebrum.”

You decide to hold his gaze for two second before you burst his bubble. “Fucking finally!” you rejoice in his defeat.

“Close enough, Tsukishima. It’s the cerebellum,” you announce all too cheerfully.

He hurriedly gets his notes and cross checks if you’re actually telling the truth. You just watch him scramble with a very pleased smile on your face as he goes rigid.

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself. He must have seen that you were telling the truth.

You start squirming in your seat. Oh man, you’re way too excited to hear what he has to say about you. You want to egg him on, to tell him to hurry up but that might affect what he’s going to say so you force yourself to shut up.

He raises his gaze at you while you make sure you’re not smiling too wide to annoy him even though you’re reeling from anticipation.

He still doesn’t say anything, but you know he’s thinking based on the way he’s studying your face.

“You have a slightly above average face.”

You run that by again in your head, not understanding what he meant by it at first.

Above average face? Did he just say you’re pretty if translated from a socially incapacitated person’s language? Is that why he was staring so hard at you?

Of all the things he could choose to say something about, he decides to compliment your appearance? You know that you're a bit good-looking, but you don’t think he notices it. He doesn’t seem to be the type to care about that stuff.

Even when you first met, he just looked at you with a vacant expression and greeted you blandly out of courtesy while the rest of the team ogled at you. His apathetic eyes eventually turned scornful over time because of how often you pick on him, and despite that, he does acknowledge that you are pretty.

You’re used to being showered with admiration because of your face so you’ve developed a natural response to it: a gleeful smile with a spritely ‘aww, thanks!’

But with Tsukishima, it doesn’t kick in. Instead, you avert your gaze away from the unwanted fluttering in your chest. You can’t even look him in the eye as you try to collect yourself and think how you’ll respond to that without looking flustered.

What the heck is wrong with you? That could hardly be called a compliment. Now that you think about it, it actually sounded sort of like a product review with its lack of any fondness.

With that in mind, you manage to regain some of your composure and offer him a faint. “Um, thanks.”

Tsukishima looks at his two remaining questions he listed and even though he’s winning the game, he doesn’t feel victorious at all. Your confessions did nothing to make him feel good about himself. They were too sincere that they made him uneasy.

He also doesn’t like that he had to admit you’re pretty. He expected you’re gonna make a fuss about it. He actually would’ve preferred that than you being uncharacteristically embarrassed about it.

Something weird is definitely going on. You’re not acting like yourself and neither is he. There had been too many opportunities to badger you, but he just let them pass by. Same with you. You could have easily teased him about letting you know he finds you attractive.

“I’m out of questions,” he lies to end the damn review.

“Me too, actually,” you say with an apprehensive laugh.

So it’s not just him. You also feel the change in the atmosphere between you two. Your smile is uncertain and you look like you don't know what to do to remedy the situation -- that is, if you even know what’s wrong with it because he sure as hell doesn’t.

But even if he has no idea what’s going on, fortunately, he knows how to end it.

“I’m tired. I’m calling it a day,” he says as he starts packing up his stuff.

You seem to agree since you don’t say anything and just watch him collect his things. You only react when he stands up.

“Oh yeah. Sure!” You stand up as well.

“I can see my way out on my own,” he stops you when you start to head for the door.

You freeze on the spot then nod timidly. “Okay.”

As soon as he steps out and closes the door, you plop yourself back to where you were sitting. You grasp the edges of your table as you softly bang your head against it, gasping a heavy breath of relief when the air becomes undoubtedly lighter after he is gone.

“What the fuck was that?” you mumble with your cheek against the wooden surface.

Part 2 || Part 4 || masterlist

taglist (those crossed out can’t be tagged)

@ameliaxo @suikrem @akaashisslave @tsumurai @babythotshq @loving-unicorns106 @flairlust @geektastic84 @anaiss97 @berna-dette @just4readingfics @suteorra @xxekitten69xx @simp4tsukkii @music-is-all-i-need @keshinslittlegirl @raspberrysunshinebby @iminlovewhaikyuu @pdiddy11 @lightyagamami @sailorscout1902 @lovershaikyuu @expectonothinfromme @mitzuya @yamigoop

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima smut #tsukishima angst #haikyuu x reader #tags pls work

190 notes · View notes

staywritten · 5 years ago

Text

Phobia│Bang Chan

Phobia │Bang Chan

Synopsis: Relationships were about give and take. Putting in effort and compromising, but there was only so much you could do when he stopped trying. Based on Phobia by Stray Kids

Genre: IdolAu, One shot, Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Song Fic?

Word Count: 4444

Masterlist

Six weeks.

It had been six weeks since you’d actually seen Chan. Normally you’d be understanding he was a very busy man. Songwriter, singer, producer, rapper, and leader he was in high demand especially these days. He was working a full length album for Stray Kids and even assisting in the production of fellow label mates, but six weeks was just too long to go without actually seeing your boyfriend. It wasn’t as if he was on tour or promoting he was just a few blocks away at the studio that he basically barricaded himself in.

Chan being a workaholic was pretty normal. Him not sleeping and spending hours or days in the studio wasn’t unusual. But once in a while, around album time it got bad.

You made sure that you brought food, and clothes and just dropped them off for him. Occasionally you’d get Felix to deliver something since you knew he’d have a slightly easier chance of getting Chan to actually eat something instead of continuing to work himself to death.

Normally it wouldn’t be this bad, you had a life of your own so you understood keeping a healthy distance from one another and that was part of your relationship that worked so well. You both loved each other, but you valued alone time. You worked full time at an office and it was pretty daunting, and having some time to yourself was nice. It allowed you to go and visit your mom, and to spend some time with friends, even indulge in your hobbies.

Dating Chan for three years had gotten you used to his routines and how he got when it was album time. However six weeks started to make you wonder if you were even still in a relationship. He’d call occasionally here and there for a few minutes, but he hadn’t been home in over a month.

If it wasn’t for his weekly vlives for Stays, you wouldn’t even get to see him. On a particular night you caught one. Him going live at an unsettling 4am. In your defense you were also awake but him not being home in your bed had made sleep hard to come by.

He put on that beautiful smile for Stays. Entertained, gave warm words of comfort, shared his favorite songs and listened to their suggestions. Although he smiled the entire time. He looked so tired. His skin, paler than usual. He was always pale but you never thought he looked sickly. His skin wasn’t as bright, slight bags noticeable under his eyes. His hair, not as shiny and bouncy as it normally was. He looked so physically exhausted. He hid it well, to not worry Stays but you knew.

At the very end of his broadcast he wished Stays goodnight, gazing at the camera and for a whole moment it was like he was all yours again.

I'm stuck with a phobia

Although I want to stay with you

I'm stuck with a phobia

I can't go there, where you are

I can't approach you

It was like he could prioritize you, because you were a Stay and he loved his Stays. “Big hug” he smiled, going in to hug his camera, wrapping his arms around it. And the moment he came in close, the screen filling with his chest your body tensed as if you were actually being embraced. A soft smile grazing your face because that was the warmest you felt in six weeks. That was the most attention he’d given you in six weeks and you shared it with thousands of others.

You had the day off and you were determined to get Chan out of that studio even if it was only for a few hours to have a good lunch. He needed fresh hair, he needed the break. You managed to get a little done up today. Your comfortable jeans traded in a favor of a light sundress that hugged your form in the right places. Your hair down, neatly styled, framing your face. Your make up topped off with a nice glossy red that complimented your skin tone.

The walk to the studio was nice, the weather had been pretty amazing the past few days and it would have been a shame to let it go to waste. Walking into the JYP studio you waved to the receptionist, who had once again given you a small smile. She had gotten used to your visit and she would do her best to try and get Chan to at least come out but it wasn’t her fault your boyfriend was a workaholic.

You smiled brightly seeing a familiar face walk down the hall. “Hey How are you!” you chimed waving to Changbin. You met Chan through Changbin a few years back. You’d been a close family friend and it was a meeting that was merely by chance but you and Chan hit it off and the rest was history. It only brought you and Changbin closer, and he'd been a welcomed constant in your life, acting more so as a surrogate brother.

He brought you into a big hug, squeezing just a bit and patting your head. “Long time no see, you look beautiful.” he looked at you proudly. ”

“It’s been a while” your mood seemed to brighten greatly as soon as you saw him. “How’s Chris?”

His smile faltered for a bit. “Honestly…he's in one of those moods…he finished his new track weeks ago but..he just hasn’t been able to record it properly…you know how he gets…expecting absolute perfection…” he sighed. “It’s wearing all of us out, him and Jisung keep getting into it”

“He hasn’t been home in over a month…” you looked down.

“I figured as much…His studio basically became an apartment…He won’t even go back to the dorm” he crossed his arms over his chest “He’s being way too hard on himself. If a studio is supposed to represent your mind then his is just a mess right now…I don’t think he’ll ever get the song perfectly if he doesn’t take a break.”

“I was hoping to get him to take a break today…ya know have a lunch date. Go for a walk, enjoy the weather” you gave him a hopeful smile. “Wishful thinking?”

He chuckled “I think that’d be amazing for everybody.” he whispered “He’s been driving the staff absolutely crazy.” he gave you his studio key and a small wink. “Good luck, I’m gonna go grab a drink” he walked down the hallway back to the lobby.

You unlocked the door to the studio and was floored to see just how cluttered it was. Chan wasn’t exactly the tidiest person in the world but this was beyond ridiculous. Clothes, blankets and pillows covered the couch, the garbage can was overflowing. You were grateful that he wasn’t one for alcohol, energy drinks or caffeine but there was an alarming amount of juice bottles. The sugar probably being the only thing keeping him wired.

Chan turned around hearing the door open. “Changbin, I need you to run your rap through one more time something’s just not-” he stopped and furrowed his brows seeing your face.

A soft smile formed on his face, he really did miss you. Your beautiful smile, your bright energy always made you his haven, but right now it was a distraction. He needed to finish this song. Seeing you was supposed to be his reward for finishing everything. He wanted you to be proud of him the next time you saw him.

He wanted to be able to present to you his hard work. But right now he had nothing. He had about seven unfinished songs and nothing he was proud of. He didn’t want you to think his hard work was for nothing. He’d been working non stop for six weeks and had nothing to show for it.

“Chris...” you stepped into the room and moved closer to him.

He stood up and pulled you into a hug, kissing the top of your head. “Babe…what are you doing here?” He sighed happily feeling how you fit so perfect against him. How with just the feeling of your small arms around him his anxiety was lifting.

I want to hold you in my arms so bad

Even if I treasure you

You're so precious it isn't enough

You're radiant

The more you shine, the more I tremble as I get closer

“I missed you so much.” You leaned your chin on his chest. “I wanted to go out to lunch…” You missed his warmth, how safe you felt in his strong arms, the way the lul of his heart instantly calmed you. Your eyes softened as he caressed your cheek, running his thumb against your cheek.

“I missed you too, but I’ll take you out when I finish the song.” He kissed your forehead. He intended to pull away but he couldn’t. His lips found your mouth as he pulled you into a sweet, and tender kiss. Your lips moved against his lovingly as he gripped his shirt. It was the most intimate contact either of you had in a long while. He cupped your face, pulling away softly. That would be enough to hold him over. You just had to wait for him.

“I’m sorry Babe but there’s still so much I have to do” he reluctantly let you go and moved to sit back at his desk. “I would love to goof off but the guys are counting on me” he slipped his headphones back on and turned his attention back to his laptop.

You gasped, feeling him pull away so suddenly. “Chris…” Watching him get back to work as if you weren’t even there broke your heart. Six weeks of not seeing each other and you got a hug, and an ‘I miss you’ before he just dismissed you. Did he really miss you? Did he even care? You turned away, biting your lip and keeping your tears at bay. It was just so frustrating.

He had already slipped his headphones on and got back to work. You didn’t want your visit for be for nothing. You were hoping to help him in some way. You wanted to get him to take a break but he made it very clear he had no intention of leaving.

You cleaned up the blankets, folding it neatly on the couch and frowned seeing all of your notes and letters you wrote him for encouragement just crumbled in the trash. They were just tossed aside, like they were nothing.

Like you were nothing.

You’d seen how he so carefully took care of his letters from Stay’s each one saved and delicately handled. Preserved in a box to later act as motivation for him. And yours just crumbled like they were trash.

Then it hit you. Why were you even doing this?

At the thought of me making you smile

This shaking becomes in a little happiness

Don't know why I'm like this

Even if I pretend to not be bothered

My heart is racing like it'll burst

He turned around and saw that you were still standing there staring at the garbage. “Baby I really need to work, why are you still here?”

“What is this…” you mumbled, your fist tightened. You turned around, tears threatening to spill out. “What are we even doing?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I…we haven’t even seen each other in weeks and you don’t even care.”

“Don’t start this, we agreed that work comes first.”

“I agreed not to guilt trip you when you have concerts and tours, and you agree to understand when I have to work over time but this isn’t the same thing Chris…you’re just refusing to come home…what about me? where do I fall in your priorities?”

“Is that what this is about? I don’t need this right now! I need to finish the album!” You flinched hearing him raise his voice. He was known to have a bit of a temper but he almost never raised his voice to you. “The guys, the company, JYP, Stays, everyone is expecting me to put out the next big hit. The comeback is in a few weeks and I’m not ready! I don’t have time for you to sit here and just bitch about it!”

“A bitch? is that what I’m being….” you whispered. “I just wanted to see my boyfriend…” tears streamed down your face as you stepped closer to him. “I always support you…I make you food, and bring you clothes, and always encourage you. I’ve always been your biggest fan, but you’re not taking care of yourself… You’re making yourself go mad sitting in the studio all day, you’re pushing yourself too hard and-”

“The only thing making me go mad right now is you! So why don’t you do me a favor and leave!” He kicked over the chair and yelled. “Do us both a favor and get the fuck out! I don’t need this!”

You bit your lip and shook your head “Y-You don’t mean that…” you stepped closer slowly. “Chris…you’re just mad…Let’s just calm down…and we can-”

“Leave! Why are you still here!?” In his fit of anger his hand swung out hitting the can on his desk causing it to fling at you. It flailed past you, hitting the wall.

You screamed from the sudden movement and shielded your face feeling it splash on you. Even though it didn’t hurt you, it scared you enough. All in one day Chan yelled and threw something, he’d never done something like that before and for the first time you can say that you were genuinely afraid of him.

The second it hit the wall it was like his anger began to dissipate. Seeing the fear in your eyes he stepped closer but you stepped back and let out a yelp, cringing as he lifted his hand toward you. He just meant to caress your face, but you wouldn’t let him get that close. You couldn’t look at him, you were almost frozen in fear, you just couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact.

He called out your name in a soft desperate whisper, but you shook your head. “I’m…I’m sorry, it was an accident...”

There was a loud bang on the door which only caused you to scream again. “It’s just me” Changbin opened the door and let himself in “I heard yelling what-” he looked down at your small shaking form. Tears streaming down your face, you were literally shaking, something splattered on your sundress. ”What the hell happened? Are you ok?”

You pushed past him, sniffling as you ran out of the building. He stared at Chan in disbelief. “What did you do?”

You hurried home going as fast as your feet would carry you. Honestly you should have taken the scenic route, there was nothing to rush home to. Your apartment, far too large holding nothing for you. You sighed looking down, you had been ignoring the pestering feeling that this wasn’t a home anymore. It lacked warmth, life, him. All the memories that you once cherished were nothing but photos on the wall.

You just couldn’t do this anymore.

You couldn’t be the only one trying.

You packed up your largest suitcase, filling it with as much of your clothes as you could. Anything that couldn’t fit in the suitcase was stuffed in boxes, books, photos, anything that you contributed to this shared apartment. It would have been easier just to pack up Chan’s things since he had a lot less things as you did, but you couldn’t bring yourself to touch his stuff or to stay here a moment longer. The apartment looked much colder without your touch. It was as empty as you felt.

Stay with me

Don't hesitate no more (Don't hesitate)

There's no point in speaking

As long as I'm in front of you

Back at the studio Changbin grabbed Chan by his collar. “Chris what the hell was that?!” his grip tightened.

Chan looked down. He regretted the whole situation. He never meant for it to escalate so much, he just didn’t understand why you couldn’t just leave him alone and let him do this for work. He was also aware that the situation looked a lot worse than it was. “I didn’t hit her…” he felt the need to clear it up.

Changbin scoffed. “Do you think that you’d still be standing if I thought for a second that you laid a hand on her?” He wasn’t usually this aggressive, but he had gotten so close to you, and loved you very much. If you were to get hurt because of someone he introduced you to he’d never forgive himself.

“I just…lost my temper…” He grunted pulling away from Changbin. “Why can’t she just let me work?”

“Because she loves you! She wants you to be healthy and happy and sane!” Changbin crossed his arms over his chest. “Because she doesn’t want you to end up making yourself sick”

“She wasn't understanding at all!”

“Oh no the girl that goes out of her way every day to drop off clothes and food for her boyfriend. The girl that understands that you have to go away for weeks or months on end for work and never complains about it. The girl that understands that you get annoyed when she comes to see you but she still wants you to have a good meal so she sends Felix to deliver it. That girl? Are we talking about the same girl? The girl that came all the way down here just because she wanted a little lunch date. Could you really not give her that? A few hours to show that you still love her.” Changbin scoffed. “She’s way too good for you…”

Chan looked down and clenched his fist. He never realised how good you were being to him, how kind. He just got spoiled by your understanding nature. He took advantage of the situation. “I messed up…I really fucked up…I yelled at her…I scared her….” he looked at Changbin. “She was really scared of me.”

“You’re going to lose her…” He sighed “And since I care about her well being that doesn’t actually sound like a bad idea.” He turned away. “Either fix it, or sit here sitting in you own self pitty..I can’t fight your battle…not this one.”

It still took another two days before he made it back home. Somehow he did manage to finish the title track, up to his standard. Jisung and Changbin were going to work on his guide for some of the B-sides and he was going to take some time off.

He picked up a bouquet of your favorite flowers, and a teddy bear to apologize on the way. Unlocking the door he sighed “Babe…I’m home.” he announced as he slipped off his shoes. As he walked into the apartment he looked around frantically. The walls were bare. All of the photos you had were removed, the little plants that you decorated the apartment with were gone, his bookshelf that you filled with all of your favorites was now empty. He dropped the flowers and bear and ran into the bedroom. The bed was neatly made but all of your clothes were gone, half the closet stripped bare. It was like you were never there. As if you completely lifted out of his life.

I'm stuck with a phobia

Although I want to stay with you

I'm stuck with a phobia

I can't go there, where you are

I can't approach you

A week had passed and he was unable to reach you. You refused to answer his phone calls, your friends, and family refused to tell him where you were. It wasn’t until he caught you leaving your office building that he finally saw you.

You had worked overtime that night just to finish off your workload that you were slacking on. You’d been staying at an airbnb for an extended stay while you looked for an apartment. The rest of your things in storage at your parents place. It wasn’t permanent, but this transitional period felt good. Like you were finally doing something to take back your life. You froze hearing your name being called, knowing the voice all too well. He grabbed your wrist softly, pleading for your attention. He turned you to face him. He looked so sad, you just weren’t prepared to see his face like that. “Chris let me go…”

“Why’d you leave?”

“I’m surprised you noticed”

“I came home and you weren’t there…”

“You told me to leave.” You yanked your hand back from him.

“Leave the studio. Not my life.” He looked down. “I missed you…I didn’t know where you were… if you were safe… I was so worried.”

You sighed. “It only took me leaving for you to get that….All the nights I spent alone…you didn’t even care. When you were locked away in the studio you didn’t know if I was home safe, and you know what Chris? You didn’t care”

“I care!” he groaned, not meaning to yell at you. “I care…I always care…I’m so in love with you… please…just give me a chance to explain everything …please…even if it’s the last chance please…just…give me this..”

Every time I meet you

I shake, shake

Your voice echoes loudly in my head

Saying I can do even better

I boldly shout

I know too well that chances only come once

I'll do anything for you

*So that you can believe in me*

You sighed deeply before leading him back inside your office, borrowing one of the empty meeting rooms giving you two some privacy. This wasn’t the kind of talk you wanted to have publicly and you’ll be damned if you ever returned to that apartment again. Sitting across the table from him you gave him the coldest look you could muster. Arms crossed over your chest as you glanced at your watch. “Talk”

He looked down, trying to find the courage to speak. “I’m sorry…it’s just…you’re so good to me…you’re beautiful…and kind…and you love me more than I deserve…” he sighed. “Changbin’s right…he’s always been right about you being too good for me..but I figured if I worked hard then maybe one day I’ll be good enough for you too.” He buried his face in his hands. “I”m not good with relationships…I’m fucking horrible at them…You’re the only one to ever put up with me this long…I was just so scared of disappointing you..scared that you’d realize that I’m not good enough”

Your eyes softened hearing him pour his heart out to you. This was new, he never opened up this much. He just bottled things up, put on a happy face for the sake of others. This was deep rooted and he never addressed it before.

“I…I figured if I stayed busy…I could never get into a fight with you…we would appreciate the time we had together…no fighting, no anger, just happiness…If I stayed in the studio and work hard then I’ll have something to prove to you that I’m good enough...Make a new album and get wins… it’s not just for you but for Stays, the guys… I have to prove to all of you...”

Placing your hand on the table, you leaned closer. Not touching him, but the gesture was huge. It showed that you were more open to him. “Why…why do you think you have to do this? There’s not a single person that doesn’t think you’re good enough. Stays...The guys...I...we all love you more than you can imagine”

He gazed up sadly. “Because…when you gusy realize I’m not good enough you’ll all leave me too...I fuck up everything good in my life…and you’re the best thing that’s happened…and you stayed…And then you left...” he slowly reached out and tried to take your hand, only if you were accepting. Seeing how you didn’t pull away he held your hand. “I wanted to beg for you back…but then I realised how better off you are without me…that if you truly love someone you let them go…a good man would let you go.”

Your eyes softened hearing that. You could feel his grip slipping on yours. You opened your mouth to say something, but you could find the words. His hand lingered on yours, not quite wanting to let you go, and to be honest. You didn’t want him to. You wanted him to fight for you, that’s all you ever wanted.

You needed him to try.

“I’m not a good man…I’m a selfish man…a man that loves you and can’t be without you..” He took your hand in his again before pressing his lips to it. “I promise…I’ll treat you better next time…no more tears…I’ll work less…I’ll cherish you better…I’ll be the man that deserves you…I” he stopped himself taking a deep breath, holding on to your hand for dear life. “I don’t know if I can be perfect but I’ll try-I’m trying”

“Chris…this can’t happen again…I love you…I really do…but…I love myself too much to let you hurt me that much again…”

“I promise! I won’t ever hurt you again…I know I’m a fuck up…but with you…I can be more than that…you make me better…I need you.”

You leaned closer taking his cheeks into your hands, forcing him to look at you. “Listen to me…you are not a fuck up. You are good enough…I love you.”

“I love you more” he leaned in pulling you into a kiss. “Come home please…” he whispered against your lips.

“Then make it feel like a home again…” you whispered back, pressing your forehead against his.

“I will…for you I’ll do anything..” he smiled softly leaning against your touch just enjoying your feeling. The feeling that made him feel whole again. He had always put his music first, it was about time he started prioritizing the very person he does all of this for. His motivation, his love, his inspiration. It all came from you, and he was going to prove how important you were to him, even if it took him a lifetime.

Because you were worth it.

I'm stuck with a phobia

Although I want to stay with you

I'm stuck with a phobia

End.

You guys ever think about your ult and they’re just so perfect you make yourself sad over imaginary situations? Ok cool, I’m not alone.

Also please forgive any mistakes, or typos it’s 3am and I have to be up for work in three hours, so I’ll edit it later

Also If anyone wants to be part of my permanent tag list let me know, you’ll get alerted any time I post a new story. As of right now I’m only a Skz writer so if that’s your vibe lemme know~

Once again this is another fic I wrote like 5yrs ago and re-wrote it for this

∘Tags List:

@skzsprinkles @tophuphu @hugs4chan @channieboyo

#stray kids #stray kids scenario #stray kids reaction #stray kids x reader #bang chan #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #bang chan angst #stray kids angst #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop scenario #kpop angst #chris bang scenarios #chris bang angst

667 notes · View notes

jimlingss · 5 years ago

Text

Sugar and Coffee [15]

Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 15.5 OR Chapter 16

➜ Words: 3.4k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

The white noise rings your ears. It’s cramped — your legs are aching and you try to shift your other butt cheek off to alleviate the soreness of your bottom. There’s a baby crying a few rows away, the lavatory doors opening and closing, and not to mention, the constant whirring of the plane engine. You look over to your left. The bitch Jeon Jungkook stole the window seat and now he’s oblivious to your suffering. His doe eyes are pinpointed on the small screen in front of him, headphones in, watching some kind of action movie. Your eyes stray to the screen for a second, but the flashing gets too much and you shut your lids. You should’ve gotten one of those neck pillows to rest in, even if they were grossly overpriced at the airport. But there’s no other choice. You put your elbow on the armrest, palm trying to hold up your heavy head and support the weight. As you doze off, your head bobs painfully. You lean back again, trying to find a spot, but to no avail. You nod off again and your neck nearly snaps. Jungkook suddenly takes off his headphones. “Hey. You can use my shoulder, you know.” “It’s fine,” you mumble, waving him off. He stares at you for a second and then goes back to watching. Though out of the corner of his eye a few minutes later, he notices your head lolling down, neck snapping again. He clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Tch.” And Jungkook guides your head gently to his shoulder. Then, he flops his head on top of yours to keep it in place. Your breathing eventually steadies and he smiles, returning to his movie. // It’s a relief when you finally touch down and after several minutes, you’re finally able to grab your luggage and shuffle off the aircraft after hours of sitting there. Every bone in your body aches from the stiff seat, but you begin to feel a lot better when you step out of the airport. The balmy weather hits you, the warm temperature embracing your being. You inhale the fresh air, able to see the blue ocean hugging the horizon, shimmering in the bright sunlight. “Welcome to Tahiti, kids!” Namjoon looks over at the scenery with an equally satisfied expression as his wife. “Taxi ride is only six minutes away.” “How was the flight for you two?” Sejeong asks. “Not bad,” you answer, stepping on Jungkook’s foot when he mumbles something about his shoulder being sore and he laughs at your feigned ignorance. The car drives all four of you to the resort and once you arrive, you’re overwhelmed by the warm welcome the people greet you with. The place is called the Intercontinental Tahiti Resort and Spa and it’s especially fancy for what you’re usually used to. The lobby is grand, white pillars and high ceilings, bustling with tourists. There are people walking back and forth, flowers in their hair and around their necks, women’s dresses flowing, kids running about. The scent of the salted ocean fills your senses as the air conditioning cools your skin. You can’t believe you’re here. “Feel free to get settled in today, you two. Take a look around and relax. We start baking tomorrow.” Sejeong hands you the confirmation forms to check yourselves in. Both her and Namjoon are staying at one of the junior suite bungalows. They apologize for only being able to book the standard room for you and Jungkook, but you’re more than thankful already considering that this was a trip all-paid for. You two are next in line at the lobby as Namjoon and Sejeong wave farewell, dragging their suitcases with them. The woman behind the desk smiles. “Hello. How can I help you today?” “We have a reservation.” “Of course. Let’s take a look here.” She scans the paper and begins typing. “And your name is Jeon Jungkook?” “That’s me.” He offers an ID and she nods, eyes skimming over it with a smile. The woman hands over the key card and a booklet set with pamphlets. “Your room is two hundred twenty three on the second floor. Breakfast and lunch is included, this is also non-refundable. Your check out time will be at eleven a.m. There’s a few packages you can take advantage of during your time here. Room service is twenty four hours. If you ever need anything, feel free to call or come down to the lobby and we’ll help you out. Enjoy your stay!” He nods slowly, but the woman looks off to the next people in line and you stop her before she can call them. “Wait. Is there….uh...my room?” You point to yourself. She looks at you and then at her monitor. “It says two people are staying in this room. The standard room, correct?” “Yes, but there’s supposed to be two rooms. One person in each, not one room.” The woman takes the papers again, shuffling all of them. She types something into her computer and then shakes her head. “My apologies, it still says there’s two people staying in one room.” “There must be some sort of mistake.” “Should I call Namjoon?” Jungkook holds up his phone, brows knitted together. “No, we shouldn’t bother them.” You don’t want to when it was clear they had plans to enjoy themselves for the rest of the day. With a sigh, you lean over the counter to the woman. “Umm...is there another room I can book?” “Let me take a look here for you.” She clicks away. You wait with bated breath and yet again with your shittiest luck, she shakes her head. “I’m sorry. It looks like we’re fully booked here until the end of the month.” You’re at a loss and you plead with the woman again as if it’ll somehow help. “Is there really nothing you can do?” “My apologies. There aren’t any rooms available, so there’s nothing we can do at this time. We can give you free vouchers to the lounge area if you’d like for the trouble you’ve been through.” She takes something from underneath the front desk and slides it across the counter. “We get our wine from the famous winery here in French Polynesia.” You don’t cry. Even if you want to. But you take the vouchers since it’s still better than nothing. When you’re off at the sidelines, Jungkook stands with you, suitcases by your side. “We can go talk to Sejeong and Namjoon.” “Then what? They’re fully booked.” “Then you can stay with Sejeong and I’ll stay with Namjoon.” “They’re at a bungalow, Jungkook. This is practically their second honeymoon and I don’t want to bother them.” You take a deep breath and shrug. “It’s fine. It’s whatever. We’ll just stay together.” “Are you sure?” Jungkook’s brows lift, eyeing you. “Psh. Why not? We’re friends.” You bat your hand. “And I don't have germs or cooties like you think I do, Jeon. Promise I shower every day, so you don’t have to worry about it.” The man scoffs with a small smile. “Fine by me then.” But in spite of you the both trying to convince yourselves, it’s not a fantastic situation. The room has a one king-sized bed, not two twins like you had hoped on your way up the elevator. It’s a whopping three hundred and seven square feet to share with Jungkook. One bathroom to your left as you enter, the bed taking up most of the space, a cabinet with a television and one table with two chairs. You slide the glass doors open to let in fresh air. The private terrace is small too. At any other time, you wouldn’t mind dorming with your best friend but considering the circumstances of your relationship lately, you can feel the tension in the air. It makes your palms sweaty. “This is a really nice place,” you breathe out. “Yeah.” Jungkook drops his duffle bag by the table. “There’s not even a sofa. Should we request one?” “Where would we even fit it?” “Right.” You look around. Even if Jungkook would opt to sleep on the floor, there’s no spot for him unless he wants to lay underneath the table. Or in the hallway by the bathroom door where you could potentially step on him in the middle of the night during a trip to the toilet. “We’ll make do,” you reassure. “We can sleep with our heads on opposite ends.” “What if I kick you in the middle of the night?” he asks and when your expression washes over into impassivity, he grins. “Just saying. Can’t promise I won’t….” “Fine. We’ll sleep normally. The bed is big anyway and sorry, Jeon, but your muscles aren’t as massive as you think they are.” He laughs and falls back onto the soft mattress like it’s a pile of snow and he’s trying to make a snow angel. In one second, he’s ruined the fresh sheets and wrinkled them. “What do you think you’re doing?!” Jungkook lifts his head. “What?” “You’re lying on our bed with your dirty clothes.” You approach and try to push him off to no avail. “We were just on a plane for god knows how long.” The boy grins and gets up. “God, you’re so uptight.” “No, I’m clean,” you correct, glaring. “We’re not living like pigs. Try being neat for once. Just for a week.” Jungkook sighs and as he brushes past you to the balcony, he ruffles your hair tenderly. “You’re lucky I like you.” You scoff, trying to fix your hair while watching his broad backside, how he leans on the railing to soak in the view. In the free time that you have, you get yourself cleaned up and take advantage of the bathtub for a bubble bath. You indulge as much as you can, trying to enjoy the resort before you have to start working hard on the cake. You come out wearing one of your sun dresses and Jungkook looks up from his phone. “Pretty,” he murmurs while a tiny, modest smile spreads into his cheeks. You swallow hard, trying to keep your face from heating like a furnace. “Of course. What else would you expect of me?” Jungkook laughs boyishly. “That’s true.” You didn’t expect such a genuine response. But he doesn’t pay any mind to how caught off guard you are, merely getting up from his spot and grabbing clothes from his luggage. “My turn. You better wait for me. I don’t want to walk around by myself.” “Or else what?” you taunt playfully. Jungkook’s eyes darken right before he shuts the door. “Or else I’ll tackle you.” Unfortunately for him, of all the things he was worried about, he didn’t consider the bathroom part. The moment the door closes, the scent of your shampoo and body wash surrounds him. It’s suffocating, thick in the air. He’s overwhelmed in your aroma and his pants unwillingly stir. Jungkook rolls his tongue in his cheek, frustrated by his predicament and it hasn’t even been a full hour yet. By the time he’s out of the bathroom, you're appalled. “What took you so long?! Did you take three dumps?!” “No,” he sharply answers and you don’t push when he’s surprisingly so defensive about it. “Well, let’s go before it gets too late.” You grab the vouchers and swiftly exit your room. Jungkook is decked out in a full tourist outfit — khaki shorts and a blue collared shirt. You’re in a floral print dress that would look perfect paired with your sun hat, but you’re saving the outfit for another day. The two of you walk around, taking a peek at all the facilities they offer — the spa, swimming pool, tiki bar, restaurants, gift shops, and the venue where the wedding is being set up. You run into Chungha and her fiancé too. He introduces himself while she embraces you, thanking the both of you for coming and hoping the flight went well. But the pair of them only linger briefly to talk before they’re running off to take care of other things. After grabbing a bite to eat, you and Jungkook decide to take advantage of your lounge vouchers. “Are you sure this is alcohol?” You swirl the deep liquid inside your glass. Taking a sip and smacking your lips together, you try to decipher the taste on your tongue. “Tastes more like grape juice.” Jungkook smells his own drink. “This one tastes like raspberries. They said it was alcohol though.” “Huh. It’s pretty good then.” He hums, taking another mouthful. “Would you like another, miss and sir?” The waiter comes by with a kind smile and a cloth draped over his arm like a personal butler. “You still have credit on your voucher.” You look at Jungkook who shrugs. “Might as well use it all.” “What would you recommend?” You direct your attention to the waiter. Between you and Jungkook, you both try nearly every kind of wine they offer. You muse that the woman at the front desk must’ve felt really guilty to give you such a great deal. But you don't feel so upset anymore over having to share a room with Jungkook. At least not once you’ve gotten a taste of all the berry wines, another grape, fruit wine, dried cranberry, and one licorice flavored. While you’re not a wine expert and there’s little you can comment on, aside from the fact that it’s very fruity and the acidity is high, you can tell it’s delicious. You actually forget it’s alcohol. You give the beer a chance, but it’s disgusting enough for you to give the entire thing to Jungkook. You don't keep count on how much you drink with him, but it’s enough that the waiter comes by with some glasses of water. Your words slur together. “You know what I hate?” “What?” Jungkook languidly grins, an easy smile on his features that has you feeling some kind of way. “Everything. But also small spoons. I can’t eat out of a teaspoon! Why do they think I want to eat my ice-cream or crème brûlée with a—” “Toothpick,” Jungkook finishes your sentence as laughter bubbles out his throat. Your spine straightens and you look at him in surprise. Did he read your mind? “Yeah! How’d you know?” “I think you’ve told me before.” You wonder if you’ve really spent that much time with him that he knows such a small detail, but you’re baffled at how he can recall so easily. “How’d you remember?” Jungkook shrugs and then burps. You wrinkle your nose until you hiccup too. The boy is resting his head in his hand, elbow propped up on the table. His lids are seemingly heavy, every blink slow and gradual. But he stares at you intently like you’ve got something on your face. “Do you hate me?” “Sometimes,” you answer truthfully without missing a beat. “But not really.” “You don’t hate that I like you?” He leans in closer, but you don’t mind. If anything, he’s too far for your liking. You like it when he’s close. You tap the tip of Jungkook’s nose like he often does to you. “I couldn’t hate you, hate you. You’re my best friend, silly.” “I can’t be more than that?” “I don’t know. I don’t really wanna talk about it.” “I do.” You pout, eyes straying off and then you gasp. “Look! The sun’s going down. You know what I’ve always wanted to do, Kookie? Walk on the beach to watch the sunset. We should go look!” He follows after you, but not before stopping to ask for the bill until the waiter reminds him that it was all free of charge. You and Jungkook happily hop across the resort with you leaning on his arm. “You think we’d get kicked out if they knew we were drunk?” “Why?” “Cause public intoxication. Is a resort public?” “I think so. Just don’t make it obvious.” “How do I not make it obvious?” “Maybe stop giggling and whispering to me,” Jungkook says louder than what your voices have been and laughs at your reaction. The pair of you get onto the beach, stumbling together. The sky is painted in orange and pink hues, the golden hour glowing on your skin. You can hear the sound of the waves lightly crashing against the shoreline, the spray of the salty mist in the air, the tide bubbling and fizzing away. But it’s hard to enjoy it when you’re bumbling all over the place. “Ugh! I hate the sand!” “Then why’d you wanna walk on it?” Jungkook giggles, holding onto you before you trip. “I don’t know. Cause ‘s romantic, I guess.” But at the moment, it isn’t romantic at all. There’s sand grating in between your toes, exfoliating your feet and hurting with every step you take. You swear it’s going to get in your underwear somehow. You step towards the shore where the sand is flat and softer, wet by the water and where it’s more bearable. “Woah. The water’s so blue.” Jungkook treads right up to where the tide kisses the beach. He quietly observes, watching the ocean and you come up behind him. When the timing is right, you shove the boy with all your might. “Fuc—” He shouts, loses balance and puts his weight onto his knees, kneeling in the water. You laugh hysterically, cackles coming from your stomach. You bend over, hugging your stomach. The boy stands up in dismay, shaking water from his hands. His khaki pants are completely soaked like he peed himself. “Why I oughta—” “Stop! Jungkook!” You shriek with tipsy laughter as he starts chasing after you. “I’m sorry!” “Too late!” He screams back and sprints after you as fast as he can with a dark vengeance. You obviously don’t make it far with sand flailing everywhere and his legs being longer than yours. Jungkook ends up grabbing you by the waist and pushing you into the sand. “Ha!” He starts to laugh in absolute mirth, taking pleasure in your demise as sand gets into your underwear. Now it’s going to follow you around for the rest of your life. “I just showered!” You laugh, getting up and trying to get rid of the tiny grains to no avail. “How do you think I feel?” His grin is infectious and Jungkook tries to wring out his soaked khakis. Watching him makes you giggle. “It’s fine. We can shower together afterwards. It’ll be quick and painless.” “Yeah? In your dreams, Jeon Jungkook!” “Oh, it’ll be in my dreams alright,” he teases, astounding you with his outright shamelessness. The both of you eventually calm down enough to realize you probably look crazy screaming at each other on the beach during the calm sunset. You slowly make your way back, still infected by drunken giggles that seem to be unable to stop. Jungkook tries to walk without his wet shorts sticking to his skin and you take off your sandals altogether, attempting to clap them free of sand. On your way back, however, you’re interrupted by a cute lifeguard getting off her shift. She’s a beach blonde with a beautiful tan who boldly introduces herself to Jungkook. She even shakes his hand and invites him to a beach party happening tonight, leaving the two of you utterly stunned. When she leaves, you wiggle your brows. “What was all that?” “You tell me.” You grin at him. “Are you going to go to that party?” “Nah.” Jungkook throws his arm over your shoulder, keeping you from losing your balance before you make it back to the hotel room. “I’d rather spend time with you.” “Psh. Sorry to say, Jeon, but I’m pretty boring.” “No, you’re not.” He looks down at you, an endeared smile gracing his features that makes you divert your vision elsewhere. You feign nonchalance. “She was cute. You should totally go for it! Get it while you’re still young. You’re not always going to attract the ladies like this, you know! Gotta take advantage of it as it comes.” Jungkook laughs in that boyish way that makes you feel funny. “Why would I need to when you’re the only person that actually matters.” You almost choke on your own spit. Jungkook laughs, lightly knocking his head against yours. “I’d rather you’d be the one to notice me.” Little does Jungkook know you do far more than notice him.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook reader insert #jungkook baking AU #jungkook baking!AU #jungkook x reader #I know this chapter is on the shorter end #but good news - they'll be another chapter posted this Friday!#from now on actually #it's just gonna be Sugar and Coffee on my blog until I knock this out of the park #so updates every Monday and Friday!!#hope y'all are excited #cause we are riding to the ultimate climax of the series

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luvidzy · 4 years ago

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☆ genre: fluff/comfort

☆ pairing: choi jisu (lia) x reader

☆ summary: when you don’t show up to walk home, lia searches for you only to find you in a practice room.

☆ word count: 1.3k

The clock was nearing 7pm and Lia was beginning to think that you were never going to show up. Her fellow members had already left for the day, and she had stayed behind to walk with her girlfriend back to the dorms, only for you to never show up. She had texted, called, even tried to message you on Kakao, to no avail.

She sighed, before walking back to the lobby and heading to the elevators, now fully determined to find you and ease her own mind. There were only a few places you realistically could be, so she started with the most obvious place, one of the dance rooms. She knew that you practiced your routines more often than your fellow members, and Lia was sure it was a good place to go.

She walked into the first practice room, the one that Itzy often filmed dance practices in, and looked around. You weren’t in the center of the room dancing, and after a quick glance, Lia could see that you obviously weren’t in the room at all. After checking the other practice rooms, she scratched the locations off her mental list with ease.

The next place was one of the lounges. You often found yourself losing time in the lounges while working on something, or doing some homework for your online classes. Lia often joined you, so she knew that it was realistic that you had wound up there to get some peace and some quiet work time.

The lounges you were usually at were vacant, and she assumed those were the ones you would be in, considering they were closest to the dance studios. Another place checked off the list, which really only left one other place: the practice studios.

Lia travelled down the hallway containing the numerous small, soundproof rooms. Lia knew you spent time here to practice your rapping and singing, because even though you were a main dancer, you wanted to prove to all of your fans that you could do anything you put your mind to.

She checked the first two, finding them empty and barren. She popped into Bang Chan’s studio where the boy was sitting at his desk working on something, just to see if you had wandered in, to hang out with your friend. Chan told her that he hadn’t seen you, and the two said goodbye before Lia moved to the next practice room.

She opened the door slowly, noticing the dim lights that shined down from the ceiling were on. Before she was even fully in the room, she noticed your reflection in the mirror opposite the door. You were sitting against the wall, head buried in your knees as your arms held them to your chest. Your shoulders were rising and falling steadily, and it didn’t take long for her to realize that you were sleeping.

Lia closed the door slowly behind her, brushing a piece of hair out of her face as she approached you quietly. You didn’t even stir as she sat next to you, her arm brushing against yours as she looked at your sleeping figure.

After a moment of observing you, a soft smile on her face, she finally reached out to gently shake you awake. It took a few seconds for you to even begin to stir, and soon you were lifting your head up slowly, eyes squinted in confusion. Your head turned to see Lia, and your eyebrows furrowed even more.

“Lia?”

“Hey. You never showed up to walk back to the dorms and I got worried. How long have you been in here?” Lia asked, her voice laced with concern. You looked around at the practice room, before picking up your phone from beside you. Pressing the power button, the numbers 7:43 stared back at you.

All of a sudden, you gasped as your mind finally caught up with your situation. You turned to Lia, regret very visible in your eyes.

“I’m so so sorry, Lia! I came in here to work on my parts for the comeback after our practice, and I must have passed out on accident. I’m really sorry, I’ll buy you dinner to make up for it,” you scrambled, bowing your head in apology to your friend. When you lifted your head back up, you noticed that Lia wasn’t smiling the way she usual did. She looked concerned, like a mother in a way.

“Y/N, don’t apologize. You just said you passed out from exhaustion. When is the last time you ate? Drank? Slept properly?” Lia said, shooting questions at you with rapid pace. You opened your mouth, ready to respond, but closed it almost immediately. You wracked your brain, trying to figure out when you had eaten last, or how long you had slept.

“I mean I had a granola bar this morning, and some water during practice. And I got like 4 hours of sleep last night,” you mumbled, looking away from Lia as you spoke. You knew that she would not be happy to hear that you were not taking care of yourself, especially not with your rigorous comeback schedule. She sighed from next to you, reaching into her tote bag.

“Here. I brought it but didn’t have time to eat it. You need food, so eat up,” Lia said, a small cup of fruit in her hands. You hesitantly took it from her, carefully removing the top and beginning to eat. There was a silence, a silence that held tension, as you sat beside Lia.

“You need to take better care of yourself, Y/N,”

“I know. I’ve just been so busy, and I am having some trouble with my verses and I want everything to be perfect for our comeback. So many people are looking at me and I can’t afford to mess it up.” You were rambling. You knew you were, but you couldn’t help it. All the insecurities in your brain came rushing out in this moment and before you knew it there were tiny tears poking at the corner of your eyes.

You were going to continue on, your brain controlling your mouth without any thought, but you were cut off by Lia pulling you into a hug. You cut off abruptly, eyes wide as Lia stroked your hair, trying to calm you. After a moment, you finally hugged back, letting all your worries slip away into the embrace of your beautiful girlfriend.

“Y/N, you need to take it easier. You work so hard, and I love you for that, but you can’t work yourself to the point of exhaustion. I know that sometimes being an idol can be hard, but you are so amazing and your fans know that. I see it everytime you go live, or when you are performing. People are enamored by you, and they know how hard you work. Your fans would want you to stay healthy, sweetie. So please, know that you are more than enough.” Lia’s voice was soft and comforting. You felt yourself nod into her shoulder, her words making your heart warm. She never failed to make you feel better, to turn your shitty days into something good. It was part of the reason you loved her.

You pulled away, using your sweatshirt sleeve to wipe away some of the stray tears on your cheek. Lia was looking at you with her signature eye smile and you felt a smile of your own pulling onto your face. She pulled you forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, before pulling back.

“I love you, Y/N. Your fans do too. Now you need to go back to the dorms, eat something, and get a good night's sleep,” Lia said, putting on a pretend angry face. You laughed weakly, before standing up with her and grabbing your bag.

“Okay. Thank you, Lia. I don’t know what I’d do without you,”

“You’d run yourself to the bone. And then I wouldn’t be able to fall in love with the most wonderful person I’ve ever met.” Your cheeks heated up, as you laced your fingers with Lia’s own. She smiled at you, laughing softly, before leading you out of the room and to the lobby, ready to walk you home and letting you know how much she loved you every step of the way home.

#itzy #itzy oneshot #itzy imagines #itzy x you #itzy x reader #itzy fluff #itzy comfort #choi jisu #choi jisu x reader #choi jisu fluff #choi jisu imagine #lia x reader #lia imagine #itzy lia #lia comfort

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draculaurafangz · 4 years ago

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swim good / p. parker

a/n: honestly i did not plan on posting anything but i had to get this out of my drafts because, it’s been there for a while. anyways, this was based off of frank ocean’s song “swim good”. if you’ve ever listened to the song then you’d definitely know what i’m getting at with this. also, you guys can imagine the reader to look however you want, it’s not limited to like one specific image.

warnings: there’s like, a whole lotta angst, there’s curses here & there, and mentions of smut (not really but it’s kinda there, if you read you understand. lmao i don’t like writing smut at all.) also peter’s aged up 18 in this story & in college.

─ ─ ─

peter parker was very popular at your school. not only was it because of the fact that the whole entire school knew he was spiderman, but it was because he was known for sleeping around with girls on campus. thinking back on it, peter doesn’t even remember how it happened. one minute he was this nerdy, awkward teenager who always read his comic books and put together star wars lego sets, and here he is now messing around with girls and tugging at their heartstrings.

at first, he was obsessed with the idea of being this chick magnet. he lived with the pride, no matter how many girls he had lead on and given false hope to.

but now, he’s not so sure.

he’s realized he’s caused other girls around the school, and even in queens, a ton of pain. but most importantly, he had hurt you a great deal. to the point where you had left voicemails, telling him you wished you’d never see him again, and that you regret anything you ever did with him.

peter doesn’t regret it, he actually felt some sort of feeling towards you. out of all the other friday night hookups, you were different. your aura and your presence was just unmatched to those other girls. of course, you cursed yourself for ever sleeping with him because you knew about his reputation. but when you know you had the opportunity you had to take it. you thought you would be able to convince him and change his mind, but it was no use.

so here peter is on a friday night, sitting in his room all by himself, no hookup present. he missed you. god, he missed you so fucking much. he knew you wouldn’t talk to him if he just messaged you or even left a voicemail. he couldn’t bring himself to even think about the last conversation the two of you had because he hated seeing your face. you were broken and in pain. tears streaming down your face as your voice boomed within the room. saying that he was an asshole, and you thought you could actually change him but there was no point in changing him.

little did you know, you did change peter. you changed him a lot, to the point where you caused him to think about his past. there were some girls that honestly treated his hookups the way they were, and some actually cared but soon after got over it. then there were some like you who had been extremely heartbroken. peter never really paid attention to them though because they always made it their mission to ignore him.

it’s not that you didn’t ignore peter, because you did. you just didn’t talk to him at random anymore. he was in a couple of your classes, and would sometimes ask for notes. but other times, he’d just bump into you on campus. so yeah, you were ignoring him. with no intention of talking to him.

he felt so much pain over the past couple of days, thinking about he hurt other girls, thinking about how he hurt you. he cannot stop thinking about you, at this point he’s in love with you. he’s so guilt-ridden that even ned notices something is off with him.

“are you sure you’re okay? you just haven’t been yourself lately,” ned questioned just noticing that his friend seemed to always be disturbed.

“it’s nothing ned,” is what he’d usually respond with “i’m just stressed with my classes right now.”

ned shook his head understandingly. he knew that college for sure was hard on him and couldn’t even imagine how hard it was on peter. peter never told ned about everything, ned was three states away from peter. there was nothing ned could do to fix this, as peter realized he needed to fix everything himself.

his professors even noticed it. some of them even had to speak with him after class letting him know his grade was in great jeopardy. when they asked if everything okay, peter just explained that he had been off recently. he assured them that he’d be back on track soon, and get on top of his academics as well. after speaking with his physics professor he had headed towards your dorm. he never actually went to visit you at your dorm so he had no clue what room was yours. he’d remember swinging by your window, but never got an exact numbered door. when he walked into the main lobby, he asked some random girl if she knew who you were or where your dorm was. luckily for him, he actually bumped into your roomate, but your roomate refused to talk to him.

“i know who you are, and i think you should go,” she coldly spoke.

he pleaded with her and he promised he would make everything right with you if he could actually see you and get the chance to talk to you. after hearing his long ramble about his overdue apology, your roomate caved him and gave him your room number.

he felt anxiety rushing throughout his entire body as he looked through the hallways of numbered doors and finally spotted yours. he took a deep breath before knocking, reminding himself that he was going to be okay, this was going to be okay.

you opened the door and immediately slammed it in his face. behind the door, your eyes went wide and you bit your bottom lip as you thought about opening the door again. what could he have possibly wanted? what was he doing here? had he been stalking you? how the fuck did he find you room? your mind went back to the main question: what does he want and why is he here?

you turned around again facing your door and wiped your sweaty palms against your sweatpants. opening your door, you made a joke about how it was too early for a booty call. peter’s face remained straight seeming to just be unamused with the joke. you then asked what he had wanted. how this was all unlike him and how he truly he doesn’t chase but rather attract.

“y/n, just please hear me out. give me five minutes, two minutes even. i just need to talk to you,” he started.

you gulped, the big lump in your throat returning as you whispered a “come in” to him.

he sat on the edge of your bed as you stood in the middle of your room. your arms were crossed and you had a blank look on your face.

“i- i just wanted to say i’m sorry,” he stuttered, “i regret ever hurting you, y/n. i think back about how i ruined everything between us daily. usually i don’t let feelings get in the way of this but holy shit i cannot even deny them anymore. and that’s why i came here. i know i’ve given you so much stress lately and i truly apologize. i know i hurt you at night and i can’t even sleep sometimes knowing that i hurt you. i need to make things right. i’m not asking for anything major, i just want to be on good terms again with you,” he finished, averting his eyes away from yours.

you took his words in, thinking them over as you stared back at his features. you didn’t hate him, as a matter of fact you were head over heels in love with him. but you couldn’t do it. you could not be in a relationship right now, but you weren’t going to just dismiss the way he wanted to mend things between the two of you.

the two of you sat in silence for another minute as you collected your thoughts, him waiting patiently for you. you walked over to him and just hugged him. you already felt tears well up in your eyes but did not want them to spill. peter at this point was full on crying. this was the closure you both needed. you whispered in his ear how you don’t want a relationship right now, but he understood because he didn’t know if he was able to take on one by himself right now. as the two of you pulled apart, you wiped your eyes as you gave peter time to collect himself.

“i’m down to fix things. i love you a lot pete but we need to work on ourselves and our own dynamic before we even think about jumping into that whole relationship stage,” you said.

“and i’m totally okay with that. i can deal with that. i was just scared of losing you,” his eyes glossed over again as he said that. new tears were forming in his eyes.

you’d never thought you’d see the day where peter parker was actually showing some emotion. he seemed like the type to be emotionless after you had your experience with him.

it was going to take a while to heal, but you both had each other so there was no fear. peter was going to be more open and honest with his feelings. he was sorry, he was taking the accountability he should’ve taken a long time ago. he had you to thank for that.

i’m goin off (oh, my pretty love)

don’t try stopping me

i’m goin off (throw me in a line)

don’t try saving (you broke my heart)

no flares (you broke my heart)

no vest (you drove my love)

and no fear

waves are washin’ me out.

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #tom holland imagine #peter parker angst

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whump-town · 4 years ago

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Moments Too Late

In honor of spending too much time on my own Universities quad because of the nice weather (which is promptly going to shit because it’s going to be cold again Monday) and because of @olivinesea college AU I give you...

The false promises of March lure them from the comforts of their dorms. Each morning now a little warmer, the sun beaming down forgiving and loving as it’s not the quiet time for it to swelter down great beams of heat that melts clothes off the skin off muscles off bones. Today it heats the ground, enough to encourage them out of their shoes to feel the still slightly chilled nature of the not yet up to pace earth beneath their toes.

Derek laughs deeply, unabashedly as he chases Spencer along the grass. Seemingly all the more pleased the louder he can get the younger boy to screech in terror as Derek pins his thin arms in contorted positions as they wrestle. The only mediation, the only warnings they get, comes when JJ looks up from her textbook. More often to tuck strands of hair behind her ears than to break from her reading. “Don’t hurt him, Derek,” she warns. Not because she’s afraid he will but to continue these halves of theirs. Where she stands to allow Spencer this idea that she will step in if need be.

“The winter,” Emily says softly. “I think the winter depresses him.” She’s laid out on the jacket Dave spread out on the ground before them. He’d given a little “hmph” of disapproval but not altogether displeasure when she laid herself out on it. Her legs break out in rashes and the shorts she’d chosen to wear leave her too exposed to rest comfortably in it.

Dave rests back on his elbows, chest lifted to take in all the rays of the sun that he can. He cracks open his left eye, scowling over at her as he processes what she’s just said. The raised eyebrow of doubt -- of further need for contemplation and clarification on the generally just vague statement she’s just made -- goes unnoticed as she watches Aaron. Dave’s eyes follow suit and while he might not understand the full complexity of what it is that she means, he might be able to gather what she sees.

“Winter depression?” he whispers. There’s no way that Aaron could be anything but… well, Aaron. By definition, that means dark and spirally with a complexity not a single soul, at least Dave suspects, knows him in his entirety. They are all bound by bits and pieces, half-truths that they have put together like children and those little cheap boxes that are covered half-hazardously in Elmer’s glue and macaroni shells.

Aaron lays out on his back, eyes closed and more relaxed than they’ve ever seen him. Shoulders sinking into the ground and limbs open. His ankles set aligned with his hips and shoulders. Palms up, a sunflower turned to face the warmth. He can feel the heat crawling up his body, nearly too warm with the sweater on his arms and the jeans that don’t quite fit the length of his legs. Softly, he clears his throat doesn’t even bother cracking an eye open as he says, “the word the two of you are looking for is seasonal and I’m not, nor have I ever been, depressed.”

Though Dave shoots Emily a look that says it all -- leave resting snakes to lie, don’t poke a bear you’re not ready to kill -- she sits up and observes him further. Letting his head thud against the dirt, Dave lets her poke that hornet’s nest knowing he’ll be the one to soothe Aaron’s buzzing anxiety and pull the stingers from Emily’s skin.

“You locked yourself in your room for two weeks,” she reminds him. As if she wasn’t the dead girl in the freshmen dormitory wrapped around a toilet and sent to the emergency room where they know her by name. Where they take turns picking her up in the lobby, waving to the doctor’s as she signs out against their advice with her arm still bleeding where she pulled too harshly, too angrily at the IV snaked under her flesh. Who is she to point fingers at his oddity? At least he can go a weekend without visiting the bottle.

The two weeks in question were from hell. He’d been with them Tuesday, present in a way that they reflected on as oddly so. They also thought he’d killed himself, a theory started by JJ too good to pass up so their application might be flawed. For two weeks, there was nothing but radio silence from him. His dorm was empty and they couldn’t even find him in the library, a place they more often than not have to drag him from. He didn’t show up until Thursday, so he was actually gone for sixteen-days, and looked like maybe he had died and dragged his corpse all the way back to them.

Not yet adults and very much the children raised by their parent’s hips, how could they not think in the extremes that they have known their entire lives? Too young to know the complexities of the life ahead of them but too damaged to ignore it. JJ knows what her sister did and Derek could feel his father’s blood hardening on his hands, could understand and see what JJ was telling them.

One. Talking about wanting to die or to kill oneself; Eyes closed and back sinking further and further into the blankets behind him. Nearly unaware of how close they all are, of the hand on his knee or the shoulder on his hip. “It would be nice… I think,” he whispers. “No stress. No obligations. Like sleeping.” He doesn’t sleep well.

Two. Talking about feeling hopeless or having no purpose; The warmth of his eyes has frozen over, the helpless desperation that he feels bubbling over. The carefully orchestrated faux look he’s spent years building burns at his feet. Leaving behind the broken child that he is at his core, searching for something that makes sense. For a father that loves him and a mother that protects him. “It doesn’t matter what I do,” he rasps. “Nothing matters because all I do is fuck everything up.”

Three. Sleeping too little or too much; He pulls from the hand that JJ gently reaches out with, flinching. “I -- I just don’t sleep well,” he defends, avoiding her eyes when she tries to look harder. To really see how pale he’s become. “It’s just -- just insomnia.” Nightmares are what he means but twenty-year-olds shouldn’t have that kind of horror built up into them so he lies. It’s easier that way.

Three strikes. You’re out but… they just couldn’t find a body. Dave had told them about how old dogs will drag themselves away from their homes to die and Spencer had cried for hours after that. Maybe that seemed a little too on the nose, Aaron being compared to an old beaten dog. They yelled at Dave out of fear but knew he was right.

Then Aaron just showed up to campus Thursday, a lump of human underneath his comforter as if he’d been there the entire time.

“We couldn’t find you for two weeks, Aaron. That’s -- That’s crazy, even for you.”

JJ looks up from her textbook, sees Dave, and looks back down. She’s certain that they’re about to have to deal with one of Emily and Aaron’s nuclear fallouts. With hindsight, she can see how that’s been festering up. Every semester they have one of these martial spats, bad enough to leave Spencer (who loves nothing more than to be one of their shadows) afraid to be left alone with either for a few days. Rightfully so, Aaron gets a little dark and Emily never pulls her punches, it’s a scary thing to witness.

“My father died.” The group freezes for a moment. Spencer and Derek’s wrestling had died down, both watching Aaron and Emily. He’s sitting up now, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “My father died and it wasn’t any of your business.” Emily opens her mouth but he’s shaking, having opened something not so easily contained. He doesn’t know how to put it all back. “Sean called, what was I to do, Emily? Would you prefer I tell a scared nine-year-old to fuck off?”

He wanted to. Despite how scared Sean had been, how small he’d sounded sucking in little sobs. Aaron lost his father ten years ago but he couldn’t tell Sean that. He’d gone out of obligation and the strange weighted sense that this might be the last time he truly sees his little brother. And he couldn’t know it yet but it’d be the last time he saw his mother too.

“I wasn’t out mixing my name up with Jack Daniels.”

Well… it was only a matter of time.

She stands first, fist clenched at her sides. “We’re your friends, we would have been there. You’re just too much of an insufferable bastard to notice!” She seethes good and properly angry. Misplaced but firm. “If you spent half as much time locking yourself away, pretending to be someone you’re not--” She pulls in a deep shuttering breathe. “Everyone knows, you know? All of us. We’ve seen the scars.” She’s not sure if it’s what she wanted but he flinches as though he’s been hit and that’s not enough to stop her. “Do you think we wouldn’t notice the flinching? That we can’t touch you? You’re not as good as you think you are, Aaron, and we’re not stupid.”

Silence.

Emily always knows what to say.

“Ex-Excuse me.”

Penelope comes up just as Aaron’s stumbling to his feet, pale as a ghost and trembling. He nearly runs into her. “What’s--” she’s brought them snacks. Little pieces of fruit she’s painstakingly cut for this little snack. “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head and mumbles another “excuse me” and tears past her.

Penelope looks hopelessly at them, confused and hurt. She turns, watching Aaron stagger and wipe furiously at his eyes. “What… What did you do?” She looks back and forth, settling on Emily. Penelope watches tears gather in Emily’s eyes, her lower lip trembling.

“Oh God,” she whispers, hands raising to her lips. Emily looks over at Dave and to JJ, Spencer, and Derek still watching in terror. Her own words coming back to her, funneling through moments too late. “Oh God, what did I do?”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #spencer reid #david rossi #penelope garcia

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out-of-jams · 4 years ago

Text

Rebound || pjm

↠ Rebound ↞ Who cared if Kim Taehyung slept with other people? You sure as hell didn’t. That was what friends with benefits meant, right? No, it didn’t matter that you were halfway in love with him. And no, you sure as hell weren’t going to try and make him jealous with a complete stranger. Nope, not at all. Right?

Right.

Word Count: 7k.

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Warnings/Genre: College!au. s2l. Explicit language. Alcohol use. Slight angst. Jealousy. Pining. One shot. PG 16.

(yes, this is a repost of the original, but this has been changed and i'd already deleted it so yeet)

All works here are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me. ©out-of-jams. Do not copy or repost without permission. That is illegal and you are stealing no matter if you give credit or not.

| | Masterlist | |

“So, you’re coming to the party tonight, right?”

The feminine and slightly accusatory voice of your best friend went in one ear and out of the other. You were too busy watching the digital red numbers counting upwards above the elevator doors to pay much attention to your phone. And the hum of the steel machine sent vibrations through your spine as you leaned against the back wall. With your heart in your throat and palms sweating, you took a deep breath.

“Hello? Y/n!”

“I dunno, Jennie,” you mumbled, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. The elevator was so slow that it practically moved backwards in time. “I might be too busy to go tonight.”

There was a slight pause on the other end of the line and you could practically picture the way Jennie was probably comparing outfits to wear for the night. “What you mean by that is, ‘I can’t go to the party with my best friend because I’ll be too busy fucking Kim Taehyung.’ Was I close?”

Not even her crass words could wipe the excited smile from your face. “Maybe.”

Kim Taehyung.

Three months of hooking up with the guy and just hearing his name still brought a blush to your cheeks. It was no secret that every girl and even some of the guys on campus had a crush on him at some point. He was beautiful. Adonis masquerading as a human made of flesh and blood. Tall, slim and charismatic, he knew everyone, and everyone knew him. If you needed a connection, Taehyung was the person that you went to. Teachers loved him, grandmothers loved him, hell, even animals loved him.

Which, of course, meant that he could have had any single person that he blinked those pretty brown eyes at.

When he’d pulled out a chair and sat down next to you in your shared photography class at the beginning of the semester, you couldn’t believe your eyes. And neither could any of the other girls in the room, if their glares were anything to go by. Because you weren’t anything special. Nor did you come close to Taehyung’s level. You didn’t have a bunch of friends, just Jennie, and you sure as hell weren’t anything to look twice at. So, you’d just chalked it up to him wanting to sit in one of the only two window seats and left it at that.

Fifteen minutes into class and he’d turned those chocolate eyes in your direction, chin resting in the palm of his hand. And when his cupid-bow lips parted, the smooth baritone of his voice spoke quietly in order to not interrupt the professor taking attendance.

“I haven’t seen you around before. What’s your name?”

Nine words. That’s all it took to seal your fate.

Five days later and you were pinned beneath his sweating, honey colored skin. Kim Taehyung had hypnotized you with his white toothed smile and you were pathetically weak to that silver tongue of his.

One night in his bed and you were his.

A single night turned into two and then three, and then before you knew it, Taehyung would wait for you outside of your last class for the day to walk you home. And his name would pop up on your phone at two am on a Saturday, his voice seductive through the receiver as he convinced you to take an Uber to his apartment.

You thought that you would have been strong enough to resist falling down the rabbit hole that was Kim Taehyung. But you were too weak to stop yourself from wanting more. From confessing to him your feelings that had built up with each press of his mouth to yours. You weren’t foolish enough to think that you were dating him. Though that did little from imagining that you were more than just a hook-up to him. That his heart beat quickly in his chest every time he laid those mocha eyes on you. It’d gotten to the point where you couldn’t take it anymore.

Which was exactly why you were glaring up at the slow ticking numbers above the elevator door with your foot tapping a nervous rhythm. Today was the day that you were finally going to grab the proverbial bull by the horns and confess your feelings for the man that walked your dreams like he owned them.

“I gotta go,” you quickly cut off whatever sentence Jennie had been in the middle of, already pulling the phone from your ear in preparation to hang up. “Talk to youlaterokaybye!”

Whether or not she’d been able to decipher your jumble of words wasn’t really your problem. Because the elevator came to a halt with one last obnoxious and unnecessary bounce. Closing your eyes, you swallowed.

“Okay, suck it up.” A deep inhale echoed through the steel box, accompanied by the rustle of the plastic bag of takeout dangling from your fingertips. “You got this, Y/n.”

A ding! was all the warning you got before the doors slid open along with your eyes.

And your stomach dropped all the way back down to the first floor.

Not even halfway down the hall, two bodies were mercilessly tangled with one another. Pushed up against one of the apartment doors, a flash of blond hair and tan skin was recognizable even with his back turned to you. And the girl, you couldn’t make out her face or a majority of her body seeing as how Taehyung’s was blocking her from view.

The elevator’s doors slowly started to close, but you couldn’t move. Frozen in place, all you could do was stare at Taehyung as he fished into his back pocket for his keys and blindly unlocked his front door. Both of them disappeared from sight just as the steel doors finally shut.

Your shocked, hurt expression was mirrored back to you in the morphed reflection. Plastic slipped through your fingers and the bag of takeout hit the floor with a muted thud. Vision blurring from tears, you jammed a finger into the button to go back down to the lobby floor. The elevator was sluggish in responding, so you pressed the plastic again. And again. And again.

How could you have been so stupid? So naive as to think that you would be the only person that Taehyung was hooking up with. You should have known that there was no way in hell he would have returned your feelings. But like the idiot you were, you’d let yourself get drunk on him. And now you were paying the price for being foolish.

The elevator finally moved, and you threw your head back to stop the tears from spilling over. Waiting until you were out of the shitty lobby to Taehyung’s shitty apartment building would be the only way you’d be able to hold onto your last shred of dignity.

“Back already?” Jennie didn’t even turn to look at you when you entered your shared dorm room, too busy examining her outfit in the full-length mirror. Whenever she got invited to go to a party, she always planned what she was going to wear hours in advance. Only to brush off the compliments she would receive at said functions with a giggle and nonchalant wave of her hand.

The door closed behind you with finality and you couldn’t hold back the sob that’d been threatening to break free since you fled Taehyung’s apartment building. Jennie whipped around at the sound, dropping the skirt she held in her hands and letting it fall to the floor.

“What happened?” In two seconds, she was across the room and held your face between her soft hands. Concern flickered through her dark colored eyes as she wiped the tears from your cheeks. “Did Taehyung do something to you? I swear to god, say the word and I’ll call up the guy from my biology class to kick his ass.”

You shook your head, which was more difficult than it looked with the grip she had on you. And when you opened your mouth to answer, the words barely made it past your lips with how hard the sobs rocked your body. “No...no, don’t call Jungkook. I’m just so stupid, Jennie.”

“You’re not stupid.” She murmured but guided you over to your bed and waited until you sat down to speak again. “Tell me what happened.”

There was something about her that made you spill your heart out. You’d been too reluctant to tell her about your feelings for Taehyung before. All she’d known was that the two of you hooked up frequently. She sat there patiently, nodding her head and scowling when you got to the part about him sleeping with other girls.

“So he never brought that up?” Jennie leaned back against your headboard and sucked her cheek in anger. “That he was seeing other people?”

Shaking your head, you whipped your damp eyes with the sleeves of your shirt. “No, but I should have known. I shouldn’t be so surprised.”

Your best friend opened her mouth to respond with what was most likely an angry rant aimed at summoning Jeon Jungkook to fight Taehyung. He was two years younger than her and yet that did little from preventing the enormous crush she had on the guy, even though she would argue otherwise. You held up a hand to stop her words before they could form.

“Look, I just want to forget about him, okay? I shouldn’t have thought...,” sighing, you ran a hand down your face, voice small. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore.”

“Okay then.” Jennie nodded her head slowly. She stood from the bed and crossed the small amount of space between your bed and hers. Swooping down to grab some of the discarded clothes on her duvet, she turned to shoot you a smirk. “You’ll just have to get over him.”

You flopped down on your back, throwing an arm over your face. “That’s what I just said.”

“Yes, but how do you get over him?”

Too emotionally exhausted to bother with throwing her a glare, you huffed in irritation. “If I knew that, I wouldn’t be lying here with my heart broken.”

A short pause encompassed the room before you heard Jennie’s footsteps approach your bed. She dragged your arm from your face and made sure you met her assured gaze. “That was rhetorical. You get over him by getting under someone else.”

You snorted, though it lacked amusement. “Having sex with a stranger won’t help.”

She shrugged and used her grip on your arm to pull you into a sitting position. “Or it might, you never know. You just need to find someone who can make you forget about Kim Taehyung.”

“That’s not possible,” your dry tone did nothing to dissuade her. Jennie threw a piece of fabric over your head, effectively blocking out all of the light and shrouding you in a blanket of darkness.

“It is possible. Now get dressed, you’re coming to that party with me tonight.”

“Do I have to?” You complained but held what you now realized was a skirt out in front of you. It was...well, short. Would barely even hit mid-thigh. “You know I don’t go to parties that often.”

“Which is exactly why you need to.” She was too busy examining a cute, short sleeve top to bother being affected by your glare. Apparently deeming it good enough, she tossed it in your lap. “If you don’t go, I’ll just drag you there.”

Arguing with Jennie was a lot like talking to a brick wall. Once she set her mind to something, getting her to change it bordered on impossible. And to be honest, you didn’t have the energy to even try. So with a grumble, you slid off of your bed. “Fine.”

“Maybe you should slow down?” Jennie’s suggestion came out more like a question, but you didn’t hear her because you were too busy downing another shot.

The vodka burned as it snaked its way down your throat and you hardly even noticed before you started to pour another shot. All around you, music poured from the obnoxiously large speakers set up throughout the frat house, shaking the floor with just how loud the bass was. Not even the music could detract from the heat of bodies grinding against each other on the makeshift dance floor.

You weren’t sure which frat house you were at to be honest. Not that it mattered. They were all the same anyway and the free alcohol had called your name the moment you stepped foot inside the packed place. Jennie stood next to you in the almost empty kitchen with a red solo cup held delicately in her manicured hand. She stared at you with barely hidden concern while you knocked back a third shot.

“O-kay.” She reached out a hand to grab the bottle of vodka from you when you went to pour another. “Pace yourself before I have to carry you home.”

“You’re the one that wanted me to come,” you complained but let her confiscate your alcohol anyway. “Might as well get drunk off the free supply.”

“Yes, well.” Jennie raised an eyebrow, scooting closer to you at the island when a guy you didn’t recognize approached to mix his own concoction of poison. “While that’s true, ending up face down in a dirty frat house toilet isn’t the way you wanna go out. Trust me.”

You paused in surveying the darkened room of dancing bodies to send her a questioning look. “You speaking from experience here?”

“Oh, shut up.” She let out a very unladylike snort into her cup and brushed her long black hair over her exposed shoulder. She nodded at the crowd in the other room. “Look, let’s just find you a hot guy to get under so you can get over that douchebag.”

The guy who’d been pouring himself a drink looked over at Jennie’s words, eyes lighting up in interest. She either didn’t notice or did and chose to ignore him. You sighed and tried your hardest to ignore the way your stomach dropped at the reminder of Taehyung. “I doubt I’ll find anyone here that could compare to him.”

A slap to your bare arm had you turning to glare at your best friend, fingers rubbing furiously at your now red skin. Jennie just rolled her eyes with an exasperated huff. “Not with that attitude you won’t. Besides, Kim Taehyung is not all that.”

The strange guy occupying the kitchen made himself scarce after that, whatever interest he may have had in the conversation fleeing at the mention of Taehyung. She ignored your look of disbelief and continued. “He’s not. There’s plenty of hotties here who would be eager to take his place. You could literally just close your eyes and point.”

She wasn’t wrong there. The number of attractive men that paraded themselves around the party like peacocks werenice to look at. But they weren’t Taehyung. And that was where your problems lie.

“Go take a lap.” Jennie didn’t wait for you to respond before her hand was on your back, pushing you towards the open kitchen archway. “If you don’t find someone who catches your eye, then we can just call it a night and get drunk.”

Letting out a put-upon sigh, you sent her a look over your shoulder and let her push you out of the kitchen. She didn’t follow, choosing instead to retreat back into the kitchen and strike up a conversation with a girl she apparently knew. Whatever. It wasn’t like you needed her to escort you around like you were a child at a birthday party. No! You were an adult. A grown woman who was going to get over Kim Taehyung.

And if you had to get under someone else to do it, well, that was exactly what you were going to do.

The barely lit living room was completely different from the bright lights in the kitchen, and you had to squint to let your eyes adjust for a moment. It was just like you’d seen when you’d walked through earlier, though you hadn’t been paying much attention then. Not even two feet to your left was a couple. What they were doing couldn’t even be defined as dancing, it was more like sex with clothes on.

Grimacing, you weaved through the crowd, most people not bothering to move out of your way. The seductive music that poured over your ears was silently beckoning you to move your hips to the beat, but you resisted. You weren’t nearly drunk enough to let loose on your inhibitions and drown in the pulsing rhythm. So, you pressed on, navigating from the living room and into the spacious foyer. It connected one side of the house to the other and you took a moment to breathe.

Eyes closed; you ran a shaking hand through your hair. You could do this. Hell, it wasn’t even the thought of sleeping with a stranger that made you hesitant. Whether or not you were just a hook-up to him, your feelings for Taehyung had been real. It’d been a very long time since you’d last felt the same way for someone, to the point where you’d begun to think that you never would again.

You were heartbroken.

Over a guy who couldn’t give two shits about you.

If you closed your eyes, you could hear his voice murmuring in your ear. And the ghosts of his fingertips could be felt running through your hair, short nails scratching against your scalp. The way his tongue spoke words was one of your favorite things about him, and his deep baritone practically yelled in your ear.

Wait.

Your eyes flew open in shock. No, it hadn’t been your imagination after all. Because Taehyung’s excited shout reached over the music and had your head snapping in that direction. Your feet moved before you registered it, right across the foyer and into the other room. Inside was just as dark as the living room, except this one was lit up by a glow-in-the-dark beer pong table situated right in the center.

Couches had been pushed up against the walls and were occupied by people either passed out or couples making out like they were alone in their own homes. You didn’t pay them any mind, nor did you notice anything else in the near vicinity. Because on the far side of the beer pong table stood Taehyung. His blond hair glowed white in the neon lighting and the yellow button-down shirt he had on made him look like a well-dressed highlighter.

He had one hand raised, a white ping pong ball held between his slender fingers. Dark brows were pinched in concentration and his tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth as he stared down the cup on the other side of the table. But that wasn’t what had you freezing in your tracks, effectively blocking the doorway.

His other arm was slung around the petite shoulders of the same girl you’d caught him making out with earlier that day. Or at least, you assumed it was her since you hadn’t been able to get a good glimpse of her face. Not like how you could now. She was pretty. Beautiful. With long brunette hair that framed her pixie-like face perfectly. And her cute, girlish giggle floated through the air while she watched with big, innocent eyes as Taehyung dramatically took his shot.

You didn’t even notice it land in the last cup standing on the other side, too busy caught up in how that girl was everything you weren’t. It was no wonder she’d caught his eye. You’d been surprised that he’d even given you attention in the first place but had taken it as a confidence booster. Had thought that maybe you weren’t as plain looking as you’d thought you were. But now?

Now you were positive that Taehyung had only slept with you because you were convenient. Or because he was bored. Whichever it was, you felt your insecurities rear their ugly head along with a flash of white-hot anger. Jealousy tightened your throat, and you couldn’t even stop yourself from glaring at the unsuspecting girl.

How dare he?

How dare he sleep with you and then throw you away like you were nothing? Like you meant nothing? Like you were just another notch under his belt?

You’d show him.

The crowd gathered around the table was cheering, some going up to pat Taehyung on the back. He was too busy flashing his boxy grin at a tall, dimpled man to even notice that you’d entered the room. A guy broke free of the crowd, shorter than some in stature but beautiful enough to make you look twice, and his feline-like eyes barely met your own before he slipped past you and out of the room.

“We need another player!”

A split second after the shout overtook the crowd, you found your feet moving on their own once again. Raising a hand in an attempt to be seen over the taller boys, you blamed the alcohol for the way your voice left your mouth unhindered. “I’ll play!”

The crowd parted at your call and you emerged on the other side before you could second guess yourself. Cups were being set back up by those standing on the sidelines, cans of beer cracking open and filling the plastic halfway up. Your eyes locked with Taehyung’s chocolate ones and his face morphed into one of surprise before a grin overtook his features. The arm he still had around the girl had yet to drop.

“Y/n, hey!” He waved an opened can of beer at you in greeting and it was by pure will alone that your steps didn’t falter. How was he acting so casual with his arm around another girl like he hadn’t just been making you scream his name two days ago?

Did you really mean so little to him?

Bitterness stung your throat and fed the anger coating your tongue.

“Are you my new partner?” A voice, so surprisingly sweet and raspy that it contradicted itself in the best possible way, drew your attention from the blond across the beer pong table.

You hadn’t been thinking straight, therefore you hadn’t even given a second thought to the fact that you’d just volunteered yourself to play a game you’d only participated in a handful of times. A glance to your left had you doing a double take. Because the guy approaching you didn’t call for anything less.

Full, kissable lips were the first thing about him that caught your eye. They were pulled back in a grin and you took a moment to notice a cute, crooked front tooth. Even with the lack of sufficient lighting, you could tell that his mouth was soft. That he applied chap stick often. Moving your gaze slowly upwards past a button nose, you finally met his gaze. His eyes weren’t chocolate colored like Taehyung’s or dark like Jennie’s.

Espresso.

The same shade as the coffee you drank in the morning to get through the day. Deep and expressive, they reflected the glow of the table despite the fact that they were squinted up into half-moons from his smile. He ran a lightly tanned hand through his black hair and your attention shifted to the two silver rings on his fingers. His hands, much like himself, were petite, but not in a way that made him look small.

No, he was slender, slim, and all leg. The muscles in his thighs were perfectly visible through the tight material of his ripped jeans. And a soft looking striped sweater took up his top half.

His dark brows were lifted in a silent question and it was at that moment that you remembered he was waiting for you to answer. Clearing your throat, you pushed Taehyung to the back of your mind and gave him your best smile.

“Yeah. I haven’t played in forever so I’m sorry if I suck.”

Laughter fell from his mouth, a sweet sound, and he shook his head at you. “That’s okay. I’m not very good either.”

In a flash of silver, he extended a hand out to you. “Park Jimin. And you are? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

Your hand met his. It was soft yet had calluses that made you wonder where he got them from. Tilting your head up, you met his curious stare. “Y/n. And I’d be surprised if you have. I don’t get out much.”

“Yet you’re here volunteering to play beer pong with me?” Jimin let go of your hand to press his palm to his chest, teeth flashing in another grin. “I’m honored.”

“Remember you said that when we lose.” You snorted in amusement.

“You guys playing or not?” The question came from the right side of the table and you turned to look at the same dimpled man Taehyung had been talking to. He waved his hand at the table with a smirk aimed at Jimin over your shoulder.

“Ignore Namjoon.” Jimin nudged your side with his elbow, making sure to catch your eye before he threw you a conspiratorial wink. “He’s drunk.”

“I heard that!” The man you assumed was Namjoon shouted over the music. He rolled his eyes and nodded his head towards Taehyung’s side of the table. The blond’s arm had dropped from the girl’s shoulders, but he wasn’t looking in your direction, too busy downing the rest of his beer. “Tae’s team starts since he won.”

Namjoon must have been playing as the referee, but with the way his eyes were glazed over, you wondered if he was in the right state of mind to. Taehyung crumpled his now empty can of beer and set it off to the side of the table, reaching forward to grab a ping pong ball and dip it into a cup of water next to his empty can. He barely even paused before taking his turn.

Of course, his shot landed.

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop a scowl from overtaking your face. When the unnamed girl at his side picked up her own ball, you silently prayed for her downfall. Or at least for her face to get stuck in that expression she was making. How was it possible to still look attractive when her nose scrunched like yeah?

“You got this, Minjae.” Taehyung’s encouraging words barely even registered through the green tinted fog clouding your vision.

She--Minjae--finally took her turn and as if in slow motion, the ball flew through the air and bounced against the rim of the first cup in the triangle. And because of course, it landed in the beer filled one next to it. Gritting your teeth, you glared at it.

Jimin pouted but grabbed up the cup the ball landed in anyway. Plucking it out, he handed it to you with a smile and grabbed the other. “Cheers.”

You absentmindedly tapped your cup against his and downed the bitter, carbonated alcohol. The taste lingered on your tongue. An arm being casually thrown over your shoulders had you glancing up from where you’d been watching Taehyung’s team get the balls back to go again. Jimin’s cologne washed away some of the stench of the party, masculine yet sweet, just like him. You had to stop yourself from inhaling like a weirdo when he murmured low enough for only you to hear.

“Okay, we should talk strategy.”

“There’s strategy to this game?” Your lips twitched in amusement. Flickering your attention to the other side of the table from the corner of your eye, you noticed Taehyung staring directly at you. Good. Pretending like you hadn’t noticed, you leaned into Jimin’s comforting warmth and grinned up at him. “I thought it was just a pretense to get wasted.”

A tiny dimple appeared between the corner of his mouth and his high cheekbone as a chuckle tumbled out. “While that’s true, the goal is to get drunk and win.”

“What did you have in mind then?”

Jimin’s espresso irises twinkled and he leaned closer conspiratorially, making sure to keep an eye on Minjae taking her turn. “Taehyung has been carrying their team all night. So, all you gotta do is distract him whenever it’s his turn.”

Her shot veered too far to the left and bounced off the table. Namjoon attempted to grab it out of the air, but he fumbled it and it fell to the sticky floor. Jimin’s words had your brows furrowing. “Distract him how?”

He shrugged, lightly jostling your shoulders with his arm. Taehyung was talking to Minjae, his words too quiet to hear, with a ball rolling between his fingers. Jimin leaned back a little, letting his eyes rove over you. “You’re cute. You’d sure as hell distract me.”

You couldn’t blame the people crowding the room for the way your cheeks flushed. The flirtatious compliment fell from his lips so easily and sincerely that you couldn’t doubt that he meant them. Which just made you flustered all over again. Clearing your throat, you did your best to play it off. Just as you opened your mouth to respond, a familiar voice had you snapping it closed again.

“It’s your turn.”

Taehyung had his arms crossed and he nodded at the cup his ball landed in when both you and Jimin looked over.

“Alright, alright,” your partner responded playfully, squeezing your shoulder with a smile just for you. “I’ll take this one, you can go first.”

While Jimin drained the cup of beer, you approached the table and took one of the balls from Namjoon with a nod of thanks. It was wet and sticky between your fingers and you took a moment to spare a thought towards how unsanitary the game was. One of the cups in the middle of the other team’s formation caught your eye. Hesitating for only a moment, you took aim and tossed the ball.

It landed right in the center and the noise from the crowd faded in the background when you met Taehyung’s heavy stare. His eyes were unreadable, but that wasn’t all that surprising. From your brief three-month stint with him, you’d learned that while friendly and outgoing, he was very good at hiding his emotions when he wanted to. Which made you wonder what exactly was going on behind those chocolate eyes of his.

“Holy shit.” Jimin appeared at your side and you broke your staring contest to beam over at him. “I thought you said you sucked.”

“Maybe you’re just my good luck charm.” You shrugged nonchalantly and tossed your hair over your shoulder. Oh, god. Were you trying too much? Flirting too hard?

“Maybe.” By the pleased look on his face, you’d take that as a no.

Jimin took his turn, landing his ball in a cup. You cheered along with the crowd and raised your hand in the space between the two of you. His palm hit yours in a high-five and you couldn’t even hide your excitement. It wasn’t that you were super competitive, you just wanted to beat Taehyung.

Though maybe beating him was setting your sights a little too high.

Because you and Jimin didn’t last much longer against him. Contrary to him assuming that you’d be any type of distraction to the blonde across the table at all, you weren’t. How could you, when Minjae stood by his side? Every time she missed a shot, he’d say something to wipe the frown from her face. Instead of forcing her to down the beer she grimaced at, Taehyung would drink it for her.

Had you really meant so little to him? What the hell did she have that you didn’t?

The answer to your silent question echoed in your mind as you watched him line up to take his winning shot.

Everything.

Practically in slow motion, the ball flew across the table and landed in the cup. It spun ‘round, and ‘round, and ‘round against the inner rim before finally falling into the carbonated liquid with a quiet plop!

Just like before, everyone spectating the game screamed. You weren’t anywhere near drunk enough to deal with the volume. It took a lot more than a few half-full cups of warm beer to push you over the edge. Maybe you shouldn’t have let Jennie confiscate that bottle of vodka you’d been drinking out of earlier.

At your side, Jimin let out a groan. He didn’t sound all that upset at having lost a second time and you spared a moment to get caught up in the way his hand felt on your shoulder. Despite the fact that it was incredibly stuffy inside of the house, he wasn’t overflowing with heat. The look he gave you was one of shared exasperated amusement. Like the two of you were in on a secret and hadn’t just lost a game.

Looking back over to the other side of the table, you were just in time to see Minjae throw her arms around Taehyung’s neck. He didn’t even hesitate to bend down and let her pull him into a congratulatory kiss.

Watching Taehyung touch the girl at his side like you weren’t even there made your blood boil. And if you were in the right state of mind, maybe you would have realized that it was hurt, not anger, that had you turning to Jimin. He’d just finished downing the final cup of beer when you approached him, grabbing his hand like it belonged in yours.

You weren’t sure what you were doing. Maybe it was the desire to be wanted that took control of your actions. Or perhaps the need to have someone erase the ghost of Taehyung’s touch that still lingered on your skin. Whatever it was, you found yourself gravitating towards the man at your side.

“Hey Jimin?”

Jimin’s coffee-colored eyes flickered down at you with a smile, but he didn’t pull away. And that was all the sign you needed to muster up your courage. If he rejected you, well, you’d have to change your name and move to another country. Picturing Jennie in your mind, you tried to conjure up every flirtatious move she’d used on guys before and fluttered your lashes, a sweet upwards tilt to your lips.

“You wanna go dance?”

Hand giving yours a quick squeeze, Jimin leaned down to murmur in your ear, “you sure you can keep up, sweetheart?”

His cheek was close enough to brush against yours as he spoke, and you blamed the alcohol for the way your mind went blank. Swallowing to clear your head, you responded. “I should be asking you that.”

Jimin leaned back just far enough for you to see the smirk that quirked up the side of his mouth. His thumb stroked along the back of your hand in time with his words. “We’ll see.”

You didn’t even have a chance to look back at Taehyung before Jimin was leading you through the crowd around the table and across the foyer. Hopefully he couldn’t hear how hard your heart was beating in your chest. You’d be lying if you said that Park Jimin wasn’t attractive. That his voice didn’t make you want to hear what it would sound like panting in your ear. The thought had your cheeks flushing, but you barely had time to let it permeate your mind. Jimin must have found a spot on the packed dance floor, because he turned to face you.

Maybe it was the lack of lights that made his eyes spark, or perhaps it was the challenge that simmered in the air between the two of you like an unlit spark. Whatever it was, Jimin’s hands found your waist and he pulled you in close until your hips met his. Your hands instinctively flew to his chest. He was warm and his sweater was soft beneath your palms as you slowly slid them upwards to lightly lock your arms around his neck.

It was either a blessing or a curse that had the song fading out into one that was more sensual. You would put money on the former, especially when his plush lips brushed against the shell of your ear.

“Show me what you got.” His words were completely unnecessary, since your hips had already begun swaying in time with the tempo.

Park Jimin must have been a dancer. That was the only excuse you could think up that proved how he moved. Like it was second nature, like his body had a mind of its own. One of his hands slid up your side until it rested right beneath your breast, and a leg found itself slipping between both of yours. The group of people dancing behind you didn’t even register on your radar; you were too busy focusing on the thick muscle of his thigh.

His hands angled your hips until you were grinding up right against it. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you when he tensed his thigh right in time for you to grind against it. It sent a jolt of pleasure through you so suddenly that your nails gripped his shoulders in surprise. When you didn’t pull back or push him away, he took that as a sign to do it again.

That time you were expecting it, but that didn’t make it any less pleasurable. Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth was the only thing you could do to stop the sound that threatened to leave your throat. Dancing with someone you’d just met shouldn’t feel like that, shouldn’t make you imagine what it would be like if the two of you were alone.

Eyes closed, you let yourself get lost in the music and the feel of Jimin’s body. You couldn’t even blame the alcohol for the heat that simmered between your legs. Sweat made his dark hair stick to his forehead, and despite this, it was silky beneath your fingers as you gripped it. Ran your fingertips through the damp strands while his warm breath caressed the side of your neck.

You didn’t know how long the two of you danced, didn’t care to keep track.

The soft press of his lips to your neck had you tilting your head back for him. Your mouth parted as he kissed his way upwards. Once he reached where your jaw met your neck, he caught your skin between his teeth. As he sucked the sting of the pain away, you could practically feel the hickey beginning to bruise. But you didn’t mind. You were sure that if someone were to look over at the two of you, they’d see another couple getting handsy in the middle of the dance floor.

Not knowing who initiated it, one second Jimin’s lips were on your neck and the next they were on yours. Soft. That was the first and only word to pierce through the fog in your mind. The second was that holy shit he was a good kisser. Novice was not a word that you would use to describe him. And when his tongue parted your lips and slipped into your mouth to caress your own, you were consumed by all things Park Jimin.

The music, the heat of the crowd, the smell of beer, it all faded away until all you knew was the taste of his mouth. His teeth when they caught your bottom lip as he slowly pulled away before coming back for more.

“Your place?” You barely managed to mumble against his lips. And you knew it was sudden, knew you barely even knew him beyond his name, but your desire for him demanded to be addressed now.

“You sure?” Jimin’s voice was coated in lust, huskier than it had been when the two of you were just playing beer pong. His question, spoken between kisses, brought a smile to your face. Even in the heat of the moment, he was sweet.

But what you needed wasn’t sweet.

Your teeth caught his ear. “I want you.”

With one last press of his lips to yours, Jimin pulled away and his half-lidded coffee eyes met yours. They were glazed over, but not with the alcohol that flowed through his veins. He held your gaze, clearly searching for something before he found it. “C’mon.”

And as he led the way through the crowded bodies and towards the front door, you could have safely said that any and all thoughts of Taehyung were long gone from your mind.

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