#if I’m not sober later please don’t be surprised | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

roseykat · 1 year ago

Text

KINKTOBER DAY 1

Title: Same coin, different faces

PAIRING: Bang Chan x Reader

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

SUMMARY: Despite not being together with Chan anymore, you somehow end up in the back of his car...fogging up the windows.

TAGS: pre-established breakup trope, swearing, a dash of angst but also a hint of resolve, mentions of alcohol (neither the reader nor Chan is drunk), a bit of manhandling by both parties, oral sex (reader receiving), car sex, unprotected, sort of hate/rough sex.

MASTERLIST - KINKTOBER LIST

(This is currently unedited but I will be proofing it later on)

It wasn’t as fun as you had hoped it to be, a party that is. Given it was the end of the semester, people usually prefer to go all out - which they did, but you weren’t feeling it. There were far too many people off of their faces, including your entire friend group that you showed up with.

Two of them were playing drinking games in the kitchen, one of them - Minho, who had completely disappeared for the past few hours, and another one who had found himself someone to hook up with.

In the end, you were on your own for the remainder of the party. After having found a way into the lounge through the masses of people attending and remained on the couch, watching those around you for a while, you decided to get back up and grab a drink. There wasn’t an entire selection to choose from; either warm beer or cheap wine, which you grab from the latter and pour some in a plastic cup to try and fit in with everyone else.

The briny taste of the wine was enough to make you think that maybe it was time to go home. It wasn’t fun, interesting, nor a good way to spend your time on a Friday night. Before being able to make the decision to leave, you find yourself planted on the ground when your eyes catch onto a familiar figure amongst the people.

Chan. Your ex-boyfriend - your ex-best friend at that too.

It was a surprise to see him given that he isn’t really a party goer, but also a surprise to see him in general after the pair of you went through such a tumultuous breakup a month ago. Things just didn’t work out the way they were supposed to which was unfortunate because Chan is one of a kind.

There isn’t anybody like him that exists in this world. He’s gentle, caring, and has a bottomless well of love to give. Now that you’re not together anymore, you know that whoever he ends up with in the future is well taken care of.

“Hi,” Chan says, walking up to you.

“Hey,” you respond back, unsure of how to actually talk to him now. “What are you doing here?”

Chan sighs, looking at the screen of his phone momentarily then turning his attention back to you, “trying to find Minho. I’m here to pick him up, but I can’t find him. Is he here?”

“I haven’t seen him for the past couple of hours,” you answer. “I highly doubt he’s actually here still.”

He sighs and rolls his eyes, “course he’s not.”

“He probably went to Jisung’s at some point,” you add.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” he replies before his eyes peer down at the plastic cup. “Drinking? That’s not like you.”

“It’s the end of the semester,” you say in your own defence. “I was trying to finish off strong.”

“Right. Have you got a ride home then?”

Your eyes dart beyond Chan to ‘your ride home’ who has probably now consumed half of his body weight in alcohol. Chan catches your gaze, turns around and sees Seungmin throwing back another shot with a couple of strangers, presumably his classmates.

Chan sighs once more and faces you again, “don’t tell me he was supposed to sober drive.”

“He won’t be now,” you respond.

“Okay well, I can drop you off. Minho’s not replying and he’s probably not here, plus I’m getting tired,” he offers.

You ponder for a moment. Since Chan had come up to you, you hadn’t felt that sting of pain that a breakup usually induces. Not since the day you both called it quits on the relationship. But that’s only because things were never awkward with him. It’s only until now that you realise how depleting life has been without him. It’s not colourful anymore.

It’s an issue because you don’t want to be reminded of what you don’t have anymore. Sometimes, the best things can be the worst for us.

“It’s okay, thank you though,” you decline respectfully. “I might tell the others to get ready to head off.”

“And who’s going to drive them? You?” He asks with a brow raised then shakes his head with disapproval. “You’ve been drinking.”

“Not that much,” you retort. “I’m not even tipsy, plus I don’t want to leave them behind.”

“Seems like they left you behind,” Chan points out a very good point which you find hard to not be in denial about.

He takes the plastic cup out of your hand and places it on the nearest surface cluttered with other discarded items. He then returns back to you to gently take hold of your wrist and leads you out of the lounge full of people.

“Wait-”

“I’m not letting you drive under the influence, end of story,” he decides.

With that matter in hand, you’re quickly reminded that Chan has always had a strong head on his shoulders and his morals are very clear cut. He held reasonably strong opinions on doing unnecessarily dangerous things, particularly when it comes to you. It happened to be one of the poisonous factors that pierced the final dagger into the relationship.

The cold air then hits you when you both make it out into the front yard.

“I can walk thank you,” you say to Chan who forgets that he’s still holding your wrist. He looks down at his hand and releases.

“Sorry,” he apologises. “Car’s this way.”

He leads you once more just across the street to the vehicle while you think about the fact that you never actually agreed you were going to accept his offer to take you home. In saying that, there was no other alternative other than walking which Chan wouldn’t have put up with anyway.

The pair of you hop in his car, finally able to catch a break from the blaring music that was blasting throughout the house. After both of your seatbelts are on, Chan starts the car and drives away down the street.

It’s not long until silence falls quickly. Things had never been this terribly awkward between you both, but there had been pockets of quietness which used to be comfortable to sit in. Now you can see that it’s not as nice.

“So what have you been up to these days?” Chan asks out of the blue, breaking that silence.

“Nothing interesting I guess,” you answer blandly. “Just studies and that’s it.”

He nods, “how’s that going so far?”

“Fine, I suppose.”

Chan lets out a small huff, “you know, it’s still okay for us to talk right? We don’t need to be so hostile.”

The glow of your phone from your lap catches your attention away from his comment. You blink down at the screen and read a text from Felix.

Lix: ‘Saw you leave with Chan. Please tell me you’re both back on.’

You roll your eyes. You love Felix, but sometimes he can be too optimistic. There wasn’t any way you and Chan were going to find your way back to each other. If anything, it wouldn’t be the same anymore.

“I wasn’t being hostile, plus there’s not much to my answer anyway unless you want me to lie?” You respond back.

“No, I don’t want you to lie,” Chan adjusts his tight grip on the steering wheel. “But you speaking just proves my point on why we shouldn’t act like that.”

You turn your head, shooting him a well-deserved glare. This isn’t usually how Chan acts. He never says backhanded things as such even though he can be relatively blunt. Whatever subtle malice was behind his words obviously came from the same place that helped the relationship tear apart.

“This is why we never worked out because you always had to have some degree of control,” you scoff, ignoring the fact that you’ve now doused the flicker of the argument with petrol.

“I was only doing what I though was safest for you,” Chan argues back strongly. “It was never about having any type of control, it was because you couldn’t see what the consequences were.”

“Then why couldn’t you have let me figure it out for myself? How else am I supposed to learn, when you’re not here anymore?”

“You, driving drunk isn’t something that you just learn not to do. You don’t do it, full stop. Anyone with common sense knows that,” Chan bites back.

“I’m not even talking about that! When have I ever driven drunk? Now you’re just fucking reaching for things! All I’m saying is that it didn’t matter how much time I spent with you, I never got to be my own person. It was like I was turning into another ‘you’.”

Chan shrugs, “in comparison to what you can be like sometimes, I honestly don’t think that’s so much of a bad thing.”

The last nerve inside you, had been struck.

“Stop the car, I’m getting out.”

“No, we’re nearly at your h-”

“I don’t care Chris, I seriously don’t want to be anywhere near you right now,” you cut him off sharply, not wanting to hear another word come out of his mouth.

Chan looks over at you, absorbing how painfully angry you look right now and the fact that your hand is on the door handle, ready to bolt as soon as he pulls over. It was fairly obvious because once he did, you were out of the vehicle before he could say anything more. But as fast as you are out the door, Chan is already on the other side to meet you.

“Don’t go home angry,” he says urgently.

You shoot him a dirty look, thinking who the hell is he to tell you what to do, “or what?”

“Well can we at least talk then?” He questions, trying to grasp onto some common ground here.

With as much force as you can muster, your arms come up to shove Chan by the chest, “fuck you.”

He stumbles back a few steps and is not as nearly as surprised as you are by your own behaviour. Never has anyone elicited as much of a reaction from you until now. The shock has you to the point where you can barely assemble an apology to Chan. Even so when he comes back forward, grabbing you by the sides of your arms, and shoving you right back against his own car.

Before either of you say another word, his mouth crashes straight against yours. His swift hands are quickly groping and roaming in every place around your body that he can reach while you submit to his moves. You’ve forgotten how electrifying Chan can be at times when it comes to intimacy, that you really start to feel it when he slides his knee in between your thighs.

You gasp against his lips, yelping almost when his hands reach behind you to squeeze your ass and to try to bring your body as impossibly close to his as he can. For a split second, you break away to consolidate what is happening. Chan remains latched onto you, his mouth now working its way to your jaw and down to your throat, sucking and biting into your skin.

Neither of you care about whether or not he’s going to mark you up. All you care about at this point in time, is the hope that he’s going to fuck you.

“The door…open the door,” you mumble to him, even though you’re trying to find the handle yourself.

Even with the unshakeable frame of mind that he’s in right now, Chan listens to you. He pulls you forward with him so that he can yank the backdoor open. You hop onto the seat, pushing yourself backwards to the other side of the car to create room for him to join you. But Chan had his own idea planted already.

He grabs you by the ankles and pulls you right back to the edge of the seat closest to him. His hands take pride in reaching underneath your skirt and tearing your underwear down your legs.

He doesn’t even get the opportunity to fully take them off as they dangle on one leg. In saying that, it doesn’t take you very long to click onto what he wants to do. So you help him by doing your best to hike your skirt further up your thighs. Chan decides to take a few seconds to appreciate being able to relive this moment once more by using his thumb to swipe over your wet slit, collecting your juices only to bring it up to his mouth and suck it right off.

“Fucking missed this,” he speaks for the first time in about five minutes before lifting both of your legs and separating them for his head to slot in perfectly between.

The fan of his hot breath washes over your skin, already making your squirm forward towards his mouth. It’s been a long time since someone had touched you and Chan could tell. He knows how needy you can be, but not when you’re like this. Not when you’re straining to reach for the back of his head to pull him closer to your pussy. Not when you’re already moaning when he’s barely touched you.

Not when you’re wetter than what he usually thinks you are.

“Y-Yes…right there,” you sigh out and lie back down, waiting eagerly.

One of your hands threads through his dark hair and tugs every time he sucks on your clit. Shivers of pleasure reverberate throughout your body, already making your legs tremble on his shoulders. If anyone were to drive past, you know you and Chan would get done for public indecency. Except that devious consequence became an elicit far away thought drowned out by your own moans the more Chan continued to eat you out.

The best thing about it is that he’s not going easy on you. He’s being deceptively rough by digging his nails into your thighs and showing zero remorse when he relentlessly licks over that same sweet spot. The more work he puts into trying to make you cum, the harder he gets in his pants, straining at this point.

“P-Please Chan, hurry,” you cry out, trying to sit up and slide down further into his mouth. “Need to cum, please.”

When your begging and moaning become increasingly louder and more frequent, Chan knows you’re on the cusp of an orgasm. However, as much as he used to enjoy you cumming on his face, the idea of you cumming on his cock is just as good, if not better. So just as you’re about to tip over the edge, Chan pulls back.

You blink in amongst the haziness of what was about to be a mind shattering orgasm to see Chan who’s head had lifted up from in between your legs. His mouth and chin were covered in your juices, and is completely unashamed about it.

“You can just fucking wait,” he snaps and begins to adjust your legs so that he makes sure they cage his body at his sides, that way he can grab onto your thighs and fuck you hard and steady.

Although you can barely see, you hear the zipper to his pants open before he takes out his cock, hard and ready to put it to use on you. You bite down on your bottom lip when Chan uses his tip to tease your entrance. He pushes his hips forward, enough to make his cock slide up and in between your pussy.

Chan’s shaky hand manages to get a proper hold around his dick, aligning it with your wet hole, and slowly pushes in as the heat begins to encapsulate around his length. The top half of his body nearly falters forward if it weren’t for his hips that thrust forward first.

“Chris…” you mutter in an aspirated voice, feeling the fullness of his cock stretch you out.

There is no forewarning for the strength he has behind each buck of his hips. It takes you back to times before during your relationship and how deliciously memorable the sex always was. Chan’s main priority was to always make you cum first and regardless of his own needs and pleasure. Whether you misbehaved or were being an outright undeserving brat in bed, even then he would still let you cum. That’s how much he loved you.

“Nobody can ever fuck you the way I do,” Chan grits his teeth, his eyes watching his cock disappear inside of you each time he rams forward, hard and fast.

Every second that goes by, you’re grappling more and more onto your last threads of sanity. It’s hard to keep up and absorb Chris’s stamina and pace - a relentless and unapologetic pace that hits the same spot inside you over and over again until that build up of pleasure starts spreading around your lower abdomen.

“Make me feel…so good,” you mumble incoherently. “Gonna make me cum.”

It’s been a long time since Chan has heard you say those words - hell, even heard you moan at the very least. It’s enough to keep his pace steady but he’s very wary of the fact that he himself is already near the edge of an orgasm too. Nonetheless, he’s determined to get you there first once more.

So Chan lets go of one of your legs at his side so that he can use his thumb to now rub fast circles over your clit. Your hands grip at the hem of your skirt, back arching as you start submitting to the crest of intense pleasure Chan has built up for you. Then within seconds, Chan has you cumming hard around his cock, shuddering, and straining his name out of your mouth as it rings throughout his car.

“Fuck, baby…” he groans as his head tips back before he starts spilling white inside of you.

His hips stutter finally, gently slowing down to a leisurely pace while he drowns in the afterglow from one of the most transcendent orgasms he’s ever had. He gives you both time to come down before he carefully slides out of you. It takes you a while to fully fathom what just happened, but you allow yourself to think about it. Whatever it is, it’s not regret. There’s a longing feeling there, a borderline sense of relief.

Once Chan is decent, he helps you slide your underwear back on even though you’re both fully aware of the fact that he just came inside you. It’s not like either of you were prepared for this to happen. In saying that, Chan gently takes hold of both your hands and gets you to sit up.

“You okay?” he questions, using his finger to hook some of your messed hair out of your face.

You nod, “yes. You?”

“I’ve been worse,” he answers, making you smile. “I’m really sorry for what I said earlier.”

You shake your head, “I’m sorry as well for being so stubborn. I figured that the more hostile I am towards you, the more I push myself away so that I don’t have to deal with any feelings from before.”

Chan completely gets it, “I know. I thought I could do the same, but it seems that I’m too nice.”

You roll your eyes, “you’ve had your moments.”

“I definitely have,” he replies. “Anyway, we should go in case anybody just saw that.”

A bashful sense of embarrassment washes over you. It’s been minutes before you realised that you just fucked your ex. But even so, it doesn’t really feel that way. It’s just Chan, someone who you still have a lot of love for.

“You can stay at mine, it’s late,” you suggest to him.

Chan smiles softly, “as if I’m going to say no.”

A/N: Yes, I am a day late already to Kinktober - I just realised bc my dumb ass was trying to figure out time zones and when would be the best time to upload for people bc I’m quite some hours ahead from other countries. So I’ll just stick to my time zone, that way you’ll get my works a few hours earlier x

KINKTOBER TAGLIST: @mal-lunar-28 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung @lizzetmv @luneskies 🩷🩷

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #kinktober

804 notes · View notes

taexual · 1 year ago

Text

sleepwalking ● 14 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, risky motorcycle ride? (idk nothing bad happens but always wear helmets, friends), some fun flirting & jokes, but mostly ANGST AND PAIN (including explicit descriptions of very intense anxiety at the very end)

words: 12.3k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 14 ► this isn't over 'til we talk in the light, said i was sober, but you knew that i lied

In the lounge area outside the changing rooms of “013” in Tilburg, Jungkook was engaged in a very intense game of table tennis against Seokjin—and winning, even though Seokjin would have disagreed—when you entered to inform the band that they were going on stage in twenty minutes.

The game wrapped up as the members began to stretch while simultaneously accosting Jimin about their in-ears. There were never any serious issues – Jimin made sure he was the Sound Technician of the Year – but they enjoyed seeing him panic when everyone started moaning, “could you turn the backtrack up a bit?” or “I literally can’t hear myself.” This last one was Taehyung’s favourite, until Jimin started retorting with, “well, maybe you’re deaf,” and then continuing with his day.

The pre-show ritual was always chaotic, but it was endearing chaos, full of nervous laughter and sparkling eyes as the members of Rated Riot prepared for their performance.

Then, just as Jungkook left the dressing room, putting his own in-ears back in, he turned the corner and almost collided with Sid, who looked more than pleased when Jungkook took a surprised step back.

What an absolute eye-sore, Jungkook thought. As the tour went on, he began to understand your aversion to his friends better.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, and it sounded like he wasn’t just asking about Sid being in this room. He was questioning Sid’s constant presence on this tour. Surely, with Jungkook no longer participating in his little games, he had to get bored and go back home.

The past few weeks have taught Jungkook that some friendships had an expiration date, and sometimes stupid bets accelerated that process. He was okay with that now—he realised that holding onto Sid would be much worse than being left alone.

“Just came to wish you luck before the show,” said Sid, who had never genuinely wished anyone luck before. “We’re here if you want to talk.”

Jungkook frowned and glanced at Minjun—who stood further away from the rest of their friends, and rolled his eyes—then he looked back at Sid.

“I’m good,” he said slowly and cautiously as if Sid was a snake that attacked when it sensed defiance.

Just when Jungkook thought he was safe and tried to walk away, Sid’s saccharine voice—the venomous kind—called out, “don’t forget we’re going out racing tonight!”

Jungkook stopped and turned to him again. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Don’t be like that,” Sid taunted. “This could be your chance to practise riding a rental since it seems like you’re going to lose your bike in five—”

“You really don’t have anything better to do, do you?” Jungkook interrupted. Maybe it was the pre-show adrenaline or maybe he had finally grown tired of Sid’s bullshit, but he added, “I feel sorry for you.”

Sneering because people felt many things for him – mostly contempt – but pity wasn’t one of them, Sid leaned in closer. It was a tactic that Jungkook had already grown immune to, but Sid was a creature of habit.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he hissed, not bothered by the emptiness in Jungkook’s stare. “See you later.”

“You won’t,” Jungkook asserted. “I’m not going out with you. This is all over, including the bet.”

Sid raised his eyebrows. With a very specific sense of justice that no one else in this hallway—or in this world—possessed, he declared, “I get the Katana, then.”

There was something questioning about his tone, however. As if he needed Jungkook’s confirmation that he did indeed lose this bet to Sid.

But Jungkook was firm: “You don’t.”

Sid threw his head back and scoffed with an exasperation that could have put a two-year-old to shame. “Well, then neither do you!”

“That’s fine,” Jungkook said. “Minjun can keep it.”

As Sid huffed and growled in frustration, Jungkook looked at his friend again. Minjun seemed about ready to interject—he was the one person here who did not want the bike and, in fact, wished it did not exist at all—but Sid finally found his words.

“You think Minjun can—the bike is mine,” he insisted. “I won—”

“Sid, you don’t give two shits about the fucking bike,” Jungkook cut him off, very tired of the repetitive argument. “Get over it.”

The conversation with Taehyung at Hoseok’s party weighed heavily on Jungkook’s mind. He knew he had bigger things to worry about right now—forget losing the bike. He might lose you.

In his usual dignified manner—so, not dignified at all—Sid rolled his eyes and snarled, “I agreed to bet on it, didn’t I? Obviously, I do give a shit.”

“No,” Jungkook said. “You give a shit about winning. But it’s over. We’re not doing this anymore. Deal with it.”

There was a redness on Sid’s face that hadn’t been there before. A week ago, Jungkook would have been excited to see it—it would have certainly meant a point in his favour. Now, he didn’t want to see Sid’s face at all.

“It’s not over,” Sid argued, persistent like a fly that keeps hitting the glass of a window. “There’s still five days left.”

“Five days until what?”

Four heads whipped around to see you standing at the end of the hallway, confused by the snippet of conversation that you’d overheard. You had returned to find Jungkook because the rest of the band was already pacing – or, in Hoseok’s case, doing restless sit-ups – by the side of the stage.

Jungkook, Sid, Jude, and Minjun stared at you with eyes so bright and wide that they could have guided ships off the coast.

You’ve never met four boys who looked more stunned to see you. It was as if you had accidentally stumbled into the latest concert of the Masculine Ritual, Absolutely No Femininity Allowed, God Forbid Someone Who Identifies as Female Enters The Room tour, and they could not believe this was happening.

“Uh,” Jungkook was the first to react as he immediately approached you. “I’ll tell you later. They’re just excited about, uh, London.”

You did the mental calculations while Jungkook gently squeezed your shoulder to turn you around and steer you away from his friends and towards the stage.

The London show really was more or less in five days, so you decided not to question that part. But the quick pace at which Jungkook was pulling you away from the others still unsettled you.

As you turned a corner, you looked back and saw Sid frowning at you, while Minjun—as usual lately—looked like he regretted being born, and Jude—as usual always—was picking his fingernails.

“Is Sid in one of his chaotic moods again?” you asked as you walked—nearly ran, actually, with the way Jungkook was pulling you. “Should I be concerned?”

“No, no. Everything’s fine,” he assured with a dismissive wave of his hand. “He’s just… doing Sid things. You know. Nothing to worry about as long as—well, as long as you don’t get in his way. I have everything under control.”

Your primary goal on this tour was to stay out of Sid’s way as long as he stayed out of yours. But now was not the time to discuss it, because Rated Riot had three minutes until their performance.

“Alright, then,” you said. “Leave me out of it and we’re good.”

Jungkook coughed in response and stopped once you reached the other members of the band. You thought you saw Taehyung raise his eyebrows when Jungkook took his hand off your shoulders, but maybe you were just imagining it.

You turned to the rest of the band, all of whom looked pale and fidgety and unsure.

The speakers had malfunctioned during the soundcheck earlier, so Jimin and Seokjin had to cut it short to fix the problem. Naturally, the disruption of their usual routine made the band anxious. The table tennis match between Seokjin and Jungkook—arguably the most unhinged members of the team when it came to games—had distracted everyone, but now they returned to the unpleasant arms of anxiety.

“Come on,” you said, trying to sound more energetic than you were feeling. “Stop looking like you’re going to get hanged. You’ll do fantastic out there. Go and have fun. And don’t bother coming backstage until you’re drenched and the crowd won’t stop changing your names. I mean it.”

Finally, a small smile appeared on Yoongi’s face as he rolled up one of his pant legs—for no reason other than he thought it looked cool. Honestly, it worked for him.

“Why did that last part sound like a threat?” he quipped, standing up straight.

“Because it is,” you replied. When you turned to Jungkook, he had his eyebrows furrowed as if he was still worried about something, but he started to smile as soon as he felt your gaze. You added, “I’ll be out there watching you. Kick some ass.”

You high-fived all four of them and pulled back as the boys erupted battle cries and huddled together before taking the stage.

They were still nervous, but they had you and each other, and there was a room full of people excited to see them perform. This was supposed to be just another day at the office.

Smiling, you headed back to your usual spot by the stage where Luna was chatting with a few girls at the barricade, and Maggie was snapping pictures of the audience nearby.

It occurred to you while standing there, that you were thousands of kilometres away from your house, away from everything familiar. But with Rated Riot on stage, and Luna and Maggie by your side, you felt right at home.

There was nothing you wished more than to stay like this forever.

It was an unwritten law that touring with a rock band was fun, but quickly turned very hectic. Insomnia often became an unwelcome friend—especially for the members of the band who had fashionable bags under their eyes almost every day. But when they were on stage or meeting their fans after the show, they looked alive. They looked happy.

And the more drinks they had after the concert, the more that happiness seemed to grow.

“You know what I think?” Yoongi said on the couch in the dressing room where everyone had gathered after the show. He was tipsy as he swung the green Heineken bottle around, nearly splashing you and Namjoon as you sat on either side of him. “I think next time we’re in Europe, we’ll be performing at Wembley. Stade de France. The fucking Coliseum.”

“And Camp Nou?” you teased.

Yoongi and Namjoon—both avid Barcelona fans—nodded in eager agreement.

“And not as guests at festivals, either,” Yoongi continued. “Headliners.”

You smiled. “I can see that.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi’s own smile widened. “When we announced our tour, Kerrang! called us ‘The Next Reconnaissance’ on their Instagram.”

You felt an uncomfortable twinge in your stomach at the mention of the other band and turned away from the two boys. You remembered the alternative culture magazine running rampant with the moniker—always “The Next Reconnaissance,” never just Rated Riot.

“I… don’t think you’re the next anything,” you said. “I think you’re you. And being Rated Riot is already amazing.”

Yoongi needed a moment to process your words. For some reason, he had expected you to agree with the nickname. Part of him wanted to be “the next Reconnaissance,” considering how much they had achieved. But you were right.

“I like that,” he said. “That’s good. Yes. We’re Rated Riot. We’ll get Wembley. And Camp Nou.”

“I second that,” Namjoon said, pointing his beer bottle at the other boy. “But, oh, we saw Reconnaissance at Rose Bowl last year, remember? Might be the best concert I’ve ever been to. I know they were in town again before we left for Europe, but I didn’t get to go. It was at a smaller venue anyway, I think. Rose Bowl, though... Stadium shows are something else.”

You raised an eyebrow as you looked at Namjoon over Yoongi’s head. The producer didn’t normally say this much in one breath. He was clearly getting drunk.

Yoongi, on the other hand, didn’t notice anything wrong. He was likely equally as buzzed. He hummed as he threw his head back and took a large swig of his beer. Then he turned to face you.

“We’ve never opened for a band their size before,” he said. “Do you think we even could? I mean, they’re not The Rolling Stones, but they’re… well…”

He let the sentence falter because he couldn’t find a fitting word, but both you and Namjoon understood.

“Uh, well, who says you can never work with them in the future? I know their manager,” you said, trying to sound uplifting, but quickly catching yourself. You could have made your point without mentioning this. But because the two boys suddenly looked at you as if you’d just said you were Kurt Cobain in your past life, you had to explain, “he’s, uh—he’s Nick Zhou. I worked under him after university.”

“No shit?” Yoongi raised his eyebrows even higher. “Are you still in touch?”

“Not really,” you mumbled, finding yourself in a tough spot. Avoiding the subject now, when you were the one who mentioned Nick, would essentially mean lying to them. You didn’t want to do that. Awkwardly, you admitted, “although, he did, um—he called me a few days ago. Back in Oslo.”

“What?” Namjoon leaned forward to look at you over Yoongi, who stopped drinking his beer, distracted by the conversation. “Why didn’t you say anything? What did he want?”

Suddenly, you regretted finishing your beer before you joined them on the couch.

“Well, see, that’s the thing. He, uh—he wasn’t calling about the band. Or, well, he was, but it wasn’t—okay.” You closed your eyes and took a breath. This was a very long detour to get to the most important sentence. “He said he’s looking for an assistant manager.”

The two boys next to you exchanged a look.

“And… he wants you?” Namjoon asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “But only because he needs someone quickly and he’s already worked with me before, so—”

“Well, fuck,” Yoongi concluded, cutting off your humble explanation, while Namjoon offered an equally insightful, “wow, shit.”

You nodded – both observations accurate – and quickly added, “I didn’t—I’m not going to do it, though.”

“No?” Yoongi asked. “Why not?”

The hint of surprise in his voice made you uncomfortable. It sounded like the reasonable decision would have been to accept Nick’s offer and leave Rated Riot to work with this much bigger, much more intimidating band.

“I-I guess I don’t want to be anyone’s assistant anymore,” you stammered. “I like running the ship myself.”

The guitarist’s expression softened. But before he could speak, Namjoon slapped his palm on his thigh and cheered so uncharacteristically loudly that you and Yoongi both pulled back from him in surprise.

“I know that’s fucking right!” Namjoon cried out. “Steer us all right and Rated Riot will surpass them. You’ll be calling that guy to get him to be your assistant.”

You laughed at the unexpected proposition, and Yoongi gave your knee a friendly pat.

“We won’t let you down,” he said, much more collected than the boy next to him. “You know?”

“I know.” You were smiling with all the warmth in your chest. “I believe you, that’s why I don’t want to leave. But, uh—would you mind not telling anyone else about this? I don’t want it to, you know, blow out of proportion. It wasn’t even an official offer, really, he just mentioned that there was an opening. But I just… I thought it would be unfair if I didn’t eventually tell any of you.”

Yoongi nodded knowingly. Rated Riot didn’t have a designated leader, since Namjoon—as their main producer—and Seokjin—as their stage manager—called most of the shots, but as the oldest member of the band, Yoongi was typically the one to talk to you about the heavier topics.

“It’s cool,” he said. “As long as you’re staying with us, no one else really needs to know about this, right?”

What he’d just said—paired with the way he looked at you for a few seconds longer than necessary—seemed to imply something else. Your eyes automatically drifted to Jungkook, who was talking to Seokjin and Jimin on the other side of the room.

You lowered your eyes. “Yeah.”

Yoongi finished his beer in one swift gulp and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then, he looked at you again.

“Thanks for that, by the way,” he said.

You met his gaze. “For what?”

“For believing in us enough to stay.”

Namjoon felt himself smile as he quietly finished his beer. He knew he was tipsy, but he wasn’t drunk enough to interrupt the moment between you two.

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” you said. “Just keep doing what you’re doing.” Here, you turned to Namjoon. “Right?”

Looking at you in surprise after you addressed him, the producer scrambled to nod.

“Oh, hell yeah!” he said, leaning forward to reach Yoongi’s completely empty bottle with his own. “Here’s to Wembley next year.”

You smiled as the older boy clinked his empty bottle against Namjoon’s, then tipped his head back to get the last stubborn drops.

“Oh, by the way,” Yoongi spoke as he swallowed and immediately coughed. “D-did you find out what was going on with Jungkook and his lyrics?”

It took you a minute to recall your last conversation with Yoongi—the one that had led you to Jungkook, where he had dodged your questions and later snuck into your bunk on the tour bus and kissed you.

“Uh, well.” You tugged at the sleeve of your leather jacket. “He said that the song he played you was just a demo. He’s still working on the melody. And he said that he just has someone who reviews his lyrics for him, nothing more.”

Yoongi nodded to the rhythm of an unusually slow Asking Alexandria song that played from the speakers of the dressing room.

“So, we shouldn’t worry?” he asked, clearly hopeful.

“Apparently, no,” you said with an uneasy smile.

“Alright,” he decided. “Then let’s not worry.”

He looked at Namjoon who nodded in support of this decision.

And so, not worrying was exactly what they did. Instead, Namjoon brought three more bottles of Heineken and you all decided to just feel happy tonight.

As you scanned the room with a new bottle in your hand—while the boys finished their beer in under a minute and Namjoon got up again to bring more—it seemed to you that everyone had made the exact same decision.

Except Taehyung for some reason.

For a good minute, you watched him walk in circles in the very centre of the room. Then, just when you thought he’d stopped, he started another lap around the carpet.

“Excuse me for a minute,” you said to the two boys on the couch—they both nodded—and stood up.

A brief, unexpected fight broke out over the bottle of beer that you’d handed them—Namjoon won—and you hesitated for a moment as you realised you had a new problem and weighed it against the previous one.

The new problem was that Yoongi and Namjoon were getting very drunk. It was almost ridiculous, but probably harmless. Taehyung, on the other hand, seemed to be waiting to perform at four more gigs as soon as he left this room. You had to go to him first.

He had noticed the commotion by the couch, but he did not acknowledge your approach.

“Is everything okay?” You had to stop right in front of him to ask as he continued his frenzied pacing. “You’re kind of walking in circles here.”

Taehyung stopped as if in a daze and looked at you. “Hm? Ah. Lots on my mind, I guess.”

You nodded slowly. “Anything you want to talk about?”

“Uh…” He looked around. The movement seemed thoughtful, but without a clear purpose—it seemed like he was just avoiding your eyes. Then you saw his gaze land on Jungkook. Taehyung looked at him for a moment, then turned back to you and scratched the back of his neck in a telltale sign of universal discomfort. He said, “honestly, maybe it’s not me that you should be talking to.”

You glanced at Jungkook, too—he was explaining something to Jimin with very wild hand gestures. He still appeared to be on a high from the concert.

“You mean Jungkook?” you asked, shifting your attention back to Taehyung. “Is he the reason why you’re pacing?”

“Sort of,” the bassist replied, blinking at the carpet.

You didn’t like the trepidation in your stomach. And you definitely didn’t like the unexpected memory of the alarm that you had seen on Jungkook’s face in your hotel room in Amsterdam.

“Why?” you asked because, despite the ominous dread that you were feeling, it was still your responsibility to know what was going on with the band.

“Just talk to him,” Taehyung advised. “But don’t tell him I said so.”

You hesitated, wanting a bit more information before you dived off this cliff headfirst. You asked, “at least tell me if something happened, so I can be prepared.”

He glanced at Jungkook again. This time, the younger member seemed to sense his gaze as he turned around. Taehyung looked away immediately.

He muttered quickly, “ask about his friends,” and then retreated to the very back of the room until he was fully concealed by Hoseok and Maggie.

A reluctant “oh,” passed your lips, but knowing that Jungkook’s friends were involved meant that there was nothing else that Taehyung could have said to you anyway.

You had to go straight to the source.

You couldn’t say this surprised you. You already got an odd feeling when you walked in on Sid and his Asshole Alliance before the concert tonight, but Jungkook had assured you that everything was fine.

However, if this was something that made Taehyung stomp around the room—which never happened unless the situation was extremely stressful, like the time Luna was getting surgery and he almost rubbed off the soles of his shoes, walking back and forth in the waiting room of the clinic—then it most certainly wasn’t fine.

Your original plan was to wait until everyone was back on the tour bus, since you’d be spending the night in Tilburg anyway. But then you remembered all the times you’d asked Jungkook if everything was okay—and all the times he said it was—and you decided that waiting would not cut it this time.

“Hey,” you said right in the middle of his conversation with Jimin. You added an apologetic, “could you excuse us, please?” but Jimin could tell as soon as he looked at you that he’d better leave.

As quickly as it was humanly possible, he nodded and jogged to join Yoongi and Namjoon by the door of the room. The two of them were loudly discussing their plan to go out and find a bar, but they paused after noticing Jimin.

You watched them for a moment, wondering if you should have stopped them from leaving when they were already so drunk, but they noticed you, waved, and left before you could open your mouth.

Sighing, you turned to Jungkook just as he asked, “what’s up?”

He didn’t appear unusual when you looked at him. But he rarely ever did.

“Are you okay?” you asked in return.

You were both tired of the question, but Jungkook disliked the sound of it particularly much this time. He’d seen you—out of the corner of his eye—take six steps in his direction right after you finished talking to Taehyung.

What if he’d told you?

“Uh, of course,” Jungkook said, looking at you with just as much confusion—and a sprinkle of suspicion—as you were looking at him with. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know,” you said. Your heart rate increased as if you’d already heard the bad news you were expecting to hear. “How are, um—how’s Sid and everyone else?”

Jungkook disliked this question even more.

“Oh,” he said in a relaxed tone that sounded forced even to him. He cleared his throat and scanned the room for the older member, but didn’t find him. Even more nervous now, he turned to you and tried again. “You mean Sid and the others? They—they’re okay. Sid’s just being annoying, but what else is new? But I’m—we’re all okay. Thanks for, uh, for checking in.”

“Of course,” you said. You waited for him to elaborate so you could discover the reason for Taehyung’s anxiety which resulted in two more members of the band that you needed to worry about.

Honestly, Hoseok was the only one who wasn’t playing with your nerves tonight. You saw him peacefully tapping his foot to the music in the room as he chatted with Maggie and a few other staff members.

Jungkook did not pursue the topic further.

“What did you talk about with, uh—with Taehyung?” he asked instead with all the subtlety of a frightened elephant in a porcelain shop.

“Oh, this and that,” you lied. Then, feeling uncomfortable about lying, you scattered a bit of truth in there, “Luna’s face-timing her mum on the bus, so he was—he’s bored.”

“Ah.” Jungkook nodded. “Makes sense.”

He didn’t think—or didn’t want to think—that Taehyung would tell you about the bet after he asked him not to.

And, really, he tried to be reasonable. If Taehyung had told you, would you be here, peacefully asking him if he was okay?

No. You’d use fists, he presumed. Possibly knees.

“So, there’s nothing you want to tell me?” you asked suddenly, interrupting his masochistic fantasy.

Jungkook swallowed. Whatever it was that you talked about with Taehyung, it was clearly neither this, nor that.

“There is, uh, one thing,” he admitted slowly.

You inhaled. “What is it?”

“What are you plans for the rest of the night?”

This was not what you had braced yourself for. Annoyed by his stalling, you pulled your phone out of your back pocket.

“Well, depending on what you tell me, either I’m arguing with you or going to sleep,” you said. Glancing at the phone in your hand, you added, “it’s two in the morning.”

“We have tomorrow off,” he reminded you. “Well, today, I guess.”

“I know, but we’re going to Cologne—”

“That’s only in the evening.”

“Okay.” You looked around to see if anyone was close enough to hear the two of you. Not that you were doing anything forbidden—just merely bordering on it. “What are you getting at?”

“You’ve finished all your work for the night, right?” he asked and you nodded apprehensively. He said, “come do something with me.”

Once again, the dilemma that plagued your mind whenever you were with him returned.

The responsible thing to do here would be to, of course, gently suggest going to sleep. There was a long day of travel ahead of you, after all.

However, this could be your chance to determine if there was truly something alarming happening between him and his friends. Not to mention, he clearly still had something to tell you, despite appearing to have lost courage after the strange moment in your hotel room.

And, alright – the truth was, you wanted to do something with him.

“That’s very vague,” you finally said. “What do you have in mind?”

“Come with me,” Jungkook said, gesturing towards the door of the dressing room.

You agreed to follow him to the door but paused before leaving the room.

“I’d like more information,” you said, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed over your chest.

You tried to convince yourself that there was no logical reason for the entire room to be watching you and Jungkook right now, but you still felt phantom eyes all over yourself.

This wasn’t Hoseok’s party. You were still at the concert venue where Jungkook was the performer, and you were the manager.

He noticed your unease. First, he sighed. Then, as if he was compromising, he extended his hand.

“Take my hand,” he said. “And come with me.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant—”

“Come on,” he cut in, waving his hand in front of you. “Less talking, more holding my hand.”

Because your back obstructed the view of his outstretched hand for everyone else in the room, you knew you didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing this. Still, you let out a slow, anxious breath.

“Fine,” you said with exaggerated irritation to emphasise your displeasure about being kept in the dark. Then you took his hand.

As the two of you exited the room, there were ulterior motives firmly set in both of your minds.

You had to find out what was going on.

He had to tell you what was going on.

And Jungkook had a plan here somewhere. He knew he needed to tell you about the bet tonight, especially since you almost found out about it accidentally right before the show. And also because Taehyung looked about ready to start climbing walls.

He had a rough idea of how he’d like to tell you: it had to happen in a beautiful spot that would make up for the awful revelation he was about to make. If not make up for it, then at least make it worth your while.

And he’d done his research—as always. This was the one lesson from your relationship that he hadn’t learned as he continued to strenuously plan everything in the hopes of making it memorable and unique.

“There’s this spot. The Wandelbos,” he said as the two of you walked hand-in-hand down the corridor of the venue.

He pronounced the word with relative ease, making you wonder how many times he’d heard it. Then he showed pictures on his phone.

“This looks like a forest,” you commented, stopping to scroll through several photographs of squirrels and autumn trees—which wasn’t easy because he refused to let go of your hand as you held his phone.

“It’s a baroque park,” he clarified. “It’s beautiful, supposedly.”

You handed his phone back to him. “I’m sure it is. But not at two in the morning.”

“The path is star-shaped,” he continued, ignoring your interjection as the two of you kept walking. “And there’s a clearing in the middle with a pond and a bridge and—oh, and it’s only about six kilometres away.”

He held the exit door open, allowing you to walk out into the brisk night air.

Crossing the threshold, you looked at him with your eyebrows raised. “You want to walk over there?”

Actually, he did. But your question made him pause. “Uh... no?”

You stopped and waited until he walked out into the parking lot, but his attention was suddenly drawn to something behind you.

You ignored that and said, “well, we can’t rent bicycles at this time and—”

“Sorry—hold on for one second,” he stopped you abruptly.

You turned around and followed his gaze until you spotted Minjun by the restaurant across the street. Your lips parted in involuntary surprise, but it wasn’t Minjun’s presence that really startled you. It was the fact that he was leaning against a motorcycle, of all things, and there were two more bikes parked right next to him.

When you looked back at Jungkook, he looked almost relieved.

How wonderful it was, he thought, that Sid was such an insufferable idiot that he would decide to have a drag race in the middle of the Netherlands.

From across the street, the bike Minjun had rented out appeared to be a Kawasaki. Despite Jungkook’s previous bad experiences with the brand—involving a mild concussion and a dented metal fence, which, in his defence, appeared out of nowhere—this gave him an idea immediately.

“Could we go over there? Or maybe you could wait here for a minute?” he asked you while already walking away—and pulling on your hand until you had to let go because you were absolutely not going over there. He promised, “one minute!”

You could tell right away that he’d just found a potential means of transportation.

“Jungkook, that’s probably not a good idea!” you called out as he neared the street.

“I’ll be right back!” he shouted, forming the shape of a heart with both of his hands as he went.

You cringed as he crossed the street without looking both ways, but fortunately, there weren’t a lot of cars around. Unfortunately, however, you couldn’t hear what he and Minjun talked about due to the distance and the heavy gusts of wind.

You waited alone, with only your confusion for company.

If Jungkook stayed with the band while his friends went out, and now he went over there to borrow some devil-sent motorcycle, then clearly, that had to mean that he finally started to make smart(er) decisions while still being on good terms with his friends.

So, what was it that worried Taehyung so much?

“Dude!” Jungkook exclaimed across the street from you when he finally reached Minjun and scared the hell out of him with his shout—he flinched so vehemently that he nearly knocked the bike over. “Whose is this?”

“Uh—mine. We rented bikes for the race,” Minjun explained and glanced at you standing by the exit of the venue. “Sid was about to call you and force you to come with us—”

“I need it,” Jungkook interrupted, choosing to ignore the fact that there wouldn’t have been enough bikes if he had come along.

Minjun turned to him with raised eyebrows. “Huh?”

“I need to borrow it.”

“Borrow—it’s a rental.” Minjun turned his head to look at the neon green motorcycle. He knew that riding down the city streets with Sid and Jude on rented bikes was already reckless. Subletting the motorcycle to someone else, however, might be equally as stupid. “It’s in my name.”

“It’s the least you can do for me,” Jungkook said right away as if he had planned this in advance instead of only noticing Minjun and the motorcycle a mere two minutes ago.

His words weren’t entirely true, considering that Minjun wasn’t the one who had manipulated him into this mess. But Jungkook was appealing to his conscience—and that thing was eating Minjun alive. You could see it from across the street, even without knowing the reason for it.

Minjun bit his lip, fighting a very unpleasant battle with his own self.

“Okay. Fine,” he conceded, even though he knew very well what Sid would say about his impartiality and about the fact that he’d now have to ride as someone’s passenger—likely Jude’s, because Sid would rather cut his own head off than allow someone else on his bike, even if it was a rental. Hurriedly, Minjun added, “you have to return the bike back by midday tomorrow.”

“Perfect,” Jungkook replied brightly. “That’s more than enough time.”

“I’ll text you the address of the rental place,” Minjun continued, getting his phone out.

Jungkook kept on nodding. “That’s great. You do that.”

His friend typed a text message and pulled out the keys to the bike from his jacket pocket. He tossed them to Jungkook just as his phone vibrated.

“Don’t wreck it,” Minjun warned. “Or yourself.”

Jungkook grinned, swinging his right leg over the motorcycle and putting the key in the ignition. “I won’t. Thanks again!”

His friend glanced back at the restaurant, suddenly grateful that the take-out was taking so long to prepare. This meant that Sid and Jude wouldn’t notice Minjun giving the bike away—even though they would notice it gone and would probably realise where it went.

Meanwhile, Jungkook revved the engine and turned towards the parking lot of the venue.

The Kawasaki felt unusual underneath him and it made him miss his Katana, but he swallowed the disconcert. Beggars couldn’t be choosers—this was better than nothing in any case.

He stopped right in front of you in the parking lot, switched the engine off, and leaned back from the handlebar to give you a smile.

“So?” He patted the side of the bike. “Ready for a ride?”

You shook your head, disapproving of the cheesy grin on his face, and sunk your teeth into your tongue to resist a smile.

There were numerous—numerous—reasons why you weren’t ready to climb on this bright green monstrosity that must have been visible from any space station above. If not visible, then certainly audible.

“There’s only one helmet,” was the one concern that you chose to voice.

Jungkook hadn’t considered that as he glanced at the helmet, attached to the tail of the bike. He leaned over to unhook it and offered it to you.

“No,” you said before he started to speak. “If anything, you should be the one wearing it. You’re the driver. And the vocalist of a band that’s literally on tour right now. You can’t perform if you get your head snapped off.”

“Can’t perform if I get yours snapped off, either,” he argued. “Put it on. I’ll go slow.”

This was still a safety hazard, and at first, you debated arguing. Then you tried to rationalise.

Jungkook hadn’t had any alcohol after the show—which was very unusual, now that you thought about it. He must have been planning something all along.

Additionally, the streets were mostly empty, except for one car whose driver gaped suspiciously at the many motorcycles on the street, narrowing his eyes at each and every one of them as he drove past.

There was also Minjun across the street, looking as though he was praying that you and Jungkook would drive off quickly.

“Come on,” Jungkook encouraged. You understood his impatience—if Minjun was here, the rest of the Insolent Idiots couldn’t be far behind.

You looked back at the helmet in his hands.

This wouldn’t be the first time you’d gotten on a motorcycle with Jungkook, but it had been a while.

He had always been a huge fan of anything that could reach over a hundred in under five seconds, so he’d been riding bikes since before he was legally allowed to. However, the two of you had already broken up when he purchased and restored the Katana that he never stopped talking about—so you’d never ridden with him when he actually owned the vehicle.

It occurred to you suddenly that Jungkook had probably never mentioned his motorcycle since the tour started. You made a mental note to ask him about that later.

Now, you finally took the helmet from him and pushed it over your head. Maybe the most important justification for your decision was this: you’d missed the excited twirling of your heart when he took you for a ride.

The joy that Jungkook felt as he watched you put the helmet on surprised him.

He remembered the first time you struggled to fasten the straps under your chin and managed to graze your skin. Now, listening to you sigh as you squeezed the helmet over your head and tightened the straps without his help, he realised that you hadn’t forgotten. That you were still used to this.

Excited shivers ran across his skin as you climbed on the bike behind him. But he could sense your apprehension—your initial instinct was to hold onto the back of the bike.

“Come on, now. This isn’t your first time,” he said, looking at you over his shoulder. “You know I won’t go unless I know you’re holding on tight.”

“I assure you,” you said. Your voice was muffled by the helmet. “I’m holding on tight.”

He clicked his tongue as he turned to face forward again. “I happen to not believe you.”

“Tough.”

“We’ll be here a while, it seems.” He released the handles and leaned back. “Maybe we should see if Sid wants to join us, I’m sure he would love to—”

“My God!” you groaned. “Fine.”

You wrapped your hands around his waist but kept your touch light, almost nervous. Grinning, Jungkook reached for your hands and pulled them closer to make sure you had a strong hold.

When he squeezed the clutch, he felt you tighten your arms around him even more. Satisfied that he could feel more of your weight against his back, he finally pressed the starter and pulled the bike off.

He raced down the street—much to Minjun’s relief—at a speed that definitely would have been dangerous for someone without a helmet if there had been other cars around. But the road was empty and there were hardly any turns to make.

And as he sped down these empty streets, you had to admit to yourself that this was, simply, thrilling.

The rapid pace seemed to elevate your insides, forcing you to hold onto Jungkook more tightly as you rested your head against his back and watched the streetlights blur together. The deafening sound of the engine, the dark visor of your helmet, the intoxicating speed, the rough metal underneath your thighs, and the soft leather of the jacket that he was wearing—all of it was absolutely exhilarating.

Jungkook knew—he’d always known—that you would have enjoyed the thrill of a late-night ride far more than a simple walk down the Tilburg streets.

And he was excited to see your silly grin and dilated pupils after you took off the helmet outside of the park. He was almost flustered by your glow—and by the fact that he was the reason why you looked so happy and so overwhelmingly full of life.

He nearly forgot to lock the bike as he looked at you.

But then the sudden memory of why he’d brought you here caught up to him like a painful crash.

“Uh, so,” he turned away, “should we go explore?”

“Might as well,” you joked weakly. Your legs were still a little shaky from the ride. “Since we’re already here anyway.”

“Right. Well, I wouldn’t mind taking another drive,” he said with a more confident smirk—that only grew in size and arrogance when he saw you smile at the suggestion. Then, he looked down and added, “but I also wouldn’t mind just walking and… talking.”

The two of you had done a lot of that—just walking and talking—since the tour started, so agreeing to this felt natural and harmless.

The park was beautiful indeed, just as the pictures on Jungkook’s phone had promised. Granted, walking through it at night when the streetlights were so sparse, provided a layer of eerie uncertainty—but even now, you were mesmerised.

In addition to the bold squirrels, peeking at you through the tree branches—their fur barely noticeable among the dark foliage, but their little beady eyes glistening—you could also see the sky above. You could see all of it, it seemed. And the patterns of the stars were so bright that you found yourself stopping several times, utterly captivated by them.

You regretted not learning the names of constellations—or how to differentiate them—but looking at the night sky was a breathtaking experience regardless.

The sky looked different here. And it felt closer, too. It was something you didn’t believe you could ever get used to, no matter how much you stayed here.

After a short while, you and Jungkook arrived at a pond, and he informed you that this was the very centre of the park.

It reminded you of home in an odd way, even though there weren’t many ponds back home—and none of them looked quite as charming as this one. Yet there was something familiar here, something homely. Even at night, in a park that resembled a forest more than a cosy picnic spot, there was something heartwarming here.

You could have been feeling this way, you supposed, because Jungkook was holding your hand as he guided you down a narrow plank over a dark creek. Without him, the eeriness of spending the night in an old park alone would have been much more noticeable. But with him here, it just felt comfortable. As if you both knew that you were destined to be safe from all harm here.

The stream ran deeper into the forest, and there were several benches scattered in the clearing on either side of the creek. The two of you sat down on one of them and listened to the silence of the trees and the gentle flow of the water.

Remembering suddenly, you spoke up—quietly, mindful not to disrupt the peace of all living things around you. “Did you know that my parents actually had their first date by a creek?”

Jungkook turned to you. He was more comfortable being loud, because he didn’t feel like a guest here. With you there, he sort of felt like the night—and everything that it touched—belonged to him.

“That’s a… very specific location,” he commented.

“Yeah.” You snickered. “There were no creeks in our town, dad took mum to the city where he grew up.”

“Oh, that’s actually nice,” he said, a little surprised. He’d never met your dad, but he knew that ‘nice’ wasn’t the adjective that was usually used in the same sentence as his name. “Was the creek special to him?”

“Not really,” you replied, shattering the romantic image that had already formed in his head. “It was the only pretty place that he could think of at the time. At least that’s what my mum thought.”

Careful, because this was a delicate topic and he didn’t want to come off like he was defending your dad, Jungkook asked, “she never found out if there was, maybe, more to it?”

“She never asked,” you said. “Either way, that date didn’t exactly end well. In the long-term, I mean.”

Jungkook looked down at the dark ground beneath his boots. A few blades of grass poked through the dirt on the shore of the creek.

“I know what you mean,” he said slowly. “But can you really say that with such certainty? She has two kids. And you’re both pretty great.”

You smiled at this, and it gave him the courage to smile, too.

“Thanks,” you said. “And yeah. I guess you’re right. Some good did come out of it.”

The two of you were quiet for a minute. It was a comfortable minute, too, but only as long as you managed to keep your mind empty.

You succeeded—the memories of the stories that your mum had told you were slowly fading, overtaken by the calming whispers of the trees around you—but he didn’t.

“I never asked—and I don’t want to intrude now, but, uh,” Jungkook started, “from what you’ve told me before, I assumed that your parents got back together at some point, right?”

You nodded with an exhale from somewhere deeper than just your chest.

“Several points, actually,” you said.

Happy that you seemed willing to share this, he encouraged, “yeah?”

“Yeah. She kept taking him back when I was young, and my brother was—well, a baby, essentially,” you said. “Everyone told her not to do it, not even for the kids. They told her to move on, maybe find someone better. My uncle—mum’s brother—protested against this especially much. He had been against their marriage from the very beginning. But my mum loved the guy.”

The smile on your face when you said that last part made Jungkook tense—it contradicted so much with the sadness in your eyes.

“Did he love her back?” he asked.

You were about to respond with a reflexive answer that had been ingrained in you by years and years of your mother screaming about how your father was a good-for-nothing loser, how he could never love anyone other than himself, and plenty of other colourful descriptions that you probably shouldn’t have known at your age at the time. And yet, despite the intensity of her emotions after every break-up, she still took him back. Until one day she didn’t.

And now you had to pause.

“That’s probably a million-dollar question,” you said with a sad chuckle. “I don’t know. Is that awful of me to say? She doesn’t think he did, but she still got back together with him so many times. So maybe he did love her in his own fucked up way. But I-I don’t think someone who loves you is supposed to hurt you like that.”

Jungkook had leaned back as he listened to you and he nearly toppled over backwards at your words.

You were right, of course.

Someone who loved you should have never hurt you.

He swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking. “That’s, uh—that’s not awful. That’s sad, I think. Your mum deserves better.”

“She does,” you agreed. “But I understand now that—well, in a way, she is who she is because of all that happened to her. She’s very strong and she cares so much. And the fact that her only flaw is loving people too much, it’s—I don’t know. Lately, that just makes me admire her more. Because she sees the best in people. No one does that these days, everyone’s always afraid to get hurt. But my mum, she’s like—she’s fearless. You know? I genuinely respect that.”

“Even if she really does end up getting hurt?” Jungkook asked.

“Yeah. Even then. And maybe that’s the thing,” you said, looking up at the sky again. “I mean, in general. The people we love are the only ones who can hurt us like that. Or, rather, it’s precisely because we love them that it hurts so much.”

“Hmm.”

He wasn’t sure if you were still talking about your parents by the time you reached the last few sentences, but he was too afraid to ask. He couldn’t even look at you as he stayed frozen in the same spot.

“I’m probably not making much sense,” you added with a small, uncertain laugh. “I just meant that it took me a while to understand my mum. Actually, I don’t know if I even fully understand her to this day, but um… I watched her give second chances to people who held the most against her and could hurt her the most. I thought they didn’t deserve it. But she... She knew the risk, she was familiar with heartbreak, and still, she stayed hopeful. For a long time, I resented that. I thought that was a—a weakness. It sounds cruel. But I thought I could never do that.”

You paused again. The memories—of more than just your parents—flashed in your mind a little too quickly for you to collect your thoughts. You looked down to compose yourself and felt Jungkook’s hesitant glance.

Finally, you finished, “all these years of watching the back-and-forth between my parents… It made me think that I could never give someone a second chance.”

Digging into the dirt with the heel of his boot, Jungkook asked, “you, uh… you don’t think so anymore?”

He glanced at you once more and then looked away again, even though you weren’t looking at him. Your gaze was fixed on the creek in front of you.

“I don’t know,” you said after a moment. “I think I’m less decided about it now. I admire my mum for having the courage for it, even though it rarely ever works out. And now I guess I think that it is more of a case-by-case kind of thing. It depends on the person.”

Feeling as if his chest had absorbed the water from the pond and everything inside of him was being flooded, Jungkook didn’t dare to inhale.

Breathlessly, he asked, “what about me?”

“You?” you echoed awkwardly. He gave the smallest of nods in response.

You realised quickly that you hadn’t said this to him in over four years, and it felt terrifying to admit it now with the solemn trees, a hurried creek, and curious squirrels for an audience.

“Well, fuck.” You swallowed. “I mean, I love you. You know?” You chuckled to hide your unease and leaned down to touch the blades of grass growing under the bench. “Too much for my own good, probably.”

Jungkook suddenly forgot how to breathe. He looked up instead, but only caught a glimpse of the stars in the sky before he closed his eyes. The view behind his eyelids felt more special to him than the shimmering sky above—it was all darkness and dim echoes of you saying you loved him.

He couldn’t tell you now. How could he? You loved him.

And a second chance with you was all he’d ever wanted.

When he opened his eyes again, you were watching him. There was a haziness in your eyes—from the starry night, from the motorcycle drive, from the long overdue confession—and a small smile on your lips.

The moment that his eyes drifted to your lips, he felt himself inhale—more than once and he would have floated away—before he leaned in, responding to everything you’d said with a kiss.

He’d tell you about the bet, he would—but not now. Not when he felt your breath hitch as his lips touched yours. Not when you kissed him back, replacing all air in his lungs with your taste.

Right now, neither of you needed to say any other word as the forest around you settled. The leaves were frozen as if the wind didn’t dare to rustle them for fear of interrupting you.

The thought made you smile into the kiss—what a self-centred way to interpret your surroundings—and Jungkook pulled you closer.

For a minute, he made it feel like the world really did stop turning for the two of you. Like the forces of the universe had interfered to—

He pulled away all of a sudden, breathing so heavily that he was nearly hyperventilating.

He couldn’t do this. He’d already done too much.

The time that he’d borrowed—that he’d stolen—to be with you in peace had run out. Not even the universe could give it back to him.

“I’m sorry. There’s just, um,” he began, looking down and bringing a hesitant finger over his lower lip. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

You felt your heart skip over a beat.

Immediately, you found yourself returning to the hotel room in Amsterdam. It felt vastly different now and the difference sobered you up—you had been in your hotel room then, but you were alone in an empty park tonight. And you realised that discussing it here would be a mistake.

Whatever he was about to tell you might make it difficult for you to stay here and you would have no way to leave.

“Wait,” you said. The word caught him off guard. “Tell me when we get back.”

He blinked. The very reason why he’d brought you here was to tell you the truth in a place that was yours for the night.

“W-why?” he asked.

“It’s not fair to me otherwise,” you said. Your heart had shifted from pleasant pounding to near-panicked banging, and you were starting to feel nauseous. “I’d be very inconvenienced if I was left here alone.”

Jungkook appeared even more perplexed. “Why would you be—I’m not leaving. I’m staying with you.”

“That’s assuming I don’t kill you after you tell me what you’re about to tell me,” you tried to joke. There was a small—almost desperate—smirk on the corner of your lips.

Jungkook looked away.

“Oh.” Nervously, he licked his lips. He hadn’t considered you being so uncomfortable after he told you that you wouldn’t want him around. And now that he thought about it, he felt a little dizzy. “Well, that’s, uh… that’s fair enough. Should we—do you want to go back?”

The dread in your stomach seemed to grow at this question.

You knew that you had to be aware of what was happening with him, but the ceremony of it—the trip to this beautiful spot and the kiss that unintentionally coaxed him into the truth—scared you.

You wanted to resist the rational parts of your mind and stay here, where you had just forbidden him from speaking about this.

“Not really,” you admitted.

Jungkook nodded, relieved by your honesty. “Me neither.”

So, you stayed still for another minute. Then another minute. And another one. Until all the additional time you’d given yourselves had run out, too.

You peeked at Jungkook out of the corner of your eye, afraid suddenly that he would look back at you and then you’d have to talk, after all.

He seemed very far away. Much further than that first night in Amsterdam, when he came to your hotel room to talk.

Now there were sirens blaring in his head and a relentless pounding in his chest. You could almost hear it when you looked at him.

At last, you said, “but we can’t stay here forever.”

Despite looking like he had drifted into another realm deep inside of his mind, Jungkook sighed. He’d been listening to you breathe, listening to the way the wind played with your hair. He was here.

But he really wished he wasn’t.

“I know,” he said.

Still, the two of you remained on the bench for another five minutes, surrounded by the quiet rustling of the weary trees. Even they seemed anxious for you.

This might be the last silence the two of you would share, Jungkook thought grimly.

He felt terrified.

Finally, he took a breath and turned to you. “Let’s—”

A faint buzzing from the back pocket of your jeans startled you both. The sound seemed so foreign here, like something that had travelled across time and space, and accidentally ended up here—in your universe, where it didn’t belong.

You pulled out your phone and saw, first of all, that it was four in the morning, and then that Namjoon was calling you.

“I should take this,” you whispered, overwhelmed by the tension that had left your hands very cold.

“Go ahead,” Jungkook mumbled.

This was fine, he tried to tell himself while you stepped away from him to answer the call. He would take you back to the truck stop where the tour buses should have been parked by now. And then he would tell you.

And whatever happened next would—

“So, that was Namjoon,” you said, returning to him with your phone in hand. The call had lasted for less than a minute. “Apparently, someone stole Yoongi’s laptop.”

Nearly thrown off balance at the news that sounded somehow disrespectful, considering the many things you already had to process, Jungkook frowned.

“Someone stole Yoongi’s laptop?” he repeated.

“Yeah,” you said, sliding the phone back into your pocket. You knew something like this would eventually happen. “Namjoon said that he and Yoongi went out for more drinks, and when they got back to the bus, the laptop was gone. They’re not sure when was the last time they saw it.”

Jungkook stood up from the bench. “Well, why do they think someone stole it? Maybe he just lost it.”

“Yoongi’s not the kind who loses things,” you pointed out.

“Well, Namjoon could have lent a hand with that.”

You shook your head to conceal your small, involuntary smile and shrugged, acknowledging that there was a chance that this really was a false alarm. Especially if Namjoon was involved. You all loved him very much, but he had a talent like no one else to consistently misplace his own—and others—belongings.

“They were already quite drunk when I talked to them backstage before leaving,” you said. “So it’s possible they got even more wasted and just lost track of it. Either way, I need to go back and find out what happened.”

You returned to being the band’s manager, and Jungkook wasn’t sure how to handle the sudden switch. He wasn’t sure how to handle anything that was happening. This whole park was spinning around him.

He felt a little bit like the creek behind him as he watched you—flowing somewhere on pure instinct, with no clear destination in sight.

“Yeah. Okay,” he said. Hesitantly, he extended his hand for you to take—to help you over the loose wooden plank again. And to ground himself with your touch. “Let’s go, then. We’ll talk later?”

You took his hand. “Yeah. We’ll talk later.”

The truth was, you did not want to talk later.

You had a terrible feeling about it, and however irresponsible it may have been, you wanted to delay it as much as possible.

When you and Jungkook returned to the truck stop, Yoongi and Namjoon had already figured out where the laptop was. They looked very pleased to have remembered the Locate My Device app, never mind that you were the one who had kindly reminded them about it over the phone.

The laptop was, as it turned out, at a McDonald’s across the city. Neither boy could recall ever going there, so they remained convinced the device had been stolen.

You listened to their hypothesis with a serious face. But, unlike them, you were sober—the few beers you’d had after the concert were long forgotten—and you knew that the “thief” would probably be smart enough not to stop for a McFlurry after stealing someone’s computer.

The logical explanation was that your usually lovable and dependable boys had gotten so drunk that they’d forgotten about the fast food trip and left the laptop there themselves.

Regardless, you had to investigate. Because Yoongi and Namjoon were both pale with terror—and still buzzing from the spontaneous beer-tasting adventure that they’d gone on—it was up to you to find the computer.

You didn’t mind. This was your job, anyway. And you were eager to do something that did not involve talking about whatever it was that Jungkook wanted to talk to you about.

Jungkook, on the other hand, did mind. And it was evident when you exited the bus and saw him standing by the doors, pouting.

“I have to pick up the laptop,” you said, “and maybe report it to the police if it was really stolen.”

“Should I come with you?” he offered, not meaning to give you the option to refuse—which you took, of course.

“No,” you said, “you need to rest.”

“And you don’t?” he countered. “You’re the one who’s so overworked that—”

“Don’t start with that again,” you said, raising a stern hand to cut him off before someone overheard. You caught the flash of surprise in his eyes and the expression on your face softened a little.

You hadn’t meant to sound harsh, but you’ve had an impossibly long day.

“Don't worry about me,” you said. “This is my job. I have things to do. Laptops to save.”

“If I come, then—”

“Stay here,” you interrupted. “You had a show tonight. Now you have to get some sleep. I’ll be back soon.”

Biting his lip as mixed feelings of guilt and regret bubbled in his stomach, he asked, “we’ll, uh—we’ll talk, though. Right?”

“We’ll talk,” you promised. “Tomorrow.”

He fought with himself for another moment and then ended up saying, “okay. You never take me with you anyway.”

You didn’t have time to argue, so you kissed him before you went—quickly, softly, and with a nervous smile as you pulled away—and his heart seemed to leave with you as empty echoes of his racing pulse reverberated through his chest.

Tomorrow was very far away.

That would have been good if Jungkook still felt the paralysing panic from a few days ago. But even though he still felt scared now, he had already braced himself for the emotional consequences of telling you about the bet. Delaying it—against his will, this time—felt excruciating.

He knew he was the one to blame – he kissed you in the park instead of telling you about it right away, and then he agreed to wait until tomorrow.

And maybe this was what he deserved. He should have told you. But he hesitated and tried to convince himself of all sorts of irrational thoughts—and now here he was.

Alone.

And he was so frightened of being alone that he climbed right back on the motorcycle and headed to the address of the rental shop that Minjun had given him. He needed to do something, because he couldn’t sleep and he couldn’t scream at the top of his lungs, either.

Easily enough, Jungkook found himself in the bar of a hotel across the street from the rental shop. The shop didn’t open until eight, so he had a little over two hours before he could return the bike. A little over two hours before the night ended and he had to figure out what to do next.

He finished his first glass before a single thought could occur to him. By the second one, he felt his body start to relax, but chaos continued to reign in his mind.

What will I do, what will I do, what will I do?

As Jungkook lost track of how many drinks he had, he pondered every which way to reveal this to you and all the questions that you might ask.

What was the trip to Paris for? And the persistent way he followed you around? The conversation on the bridge in Stockholm? On the rooftop in Oslo? The bicycles in Amsterdam? The nights in your hotel room?

None of that was truly for the bet. But would it matter?

You said you loved him tonight. But you’d hate him tomorrow.

Maybe he could wait for five days until he formally lost the bet. Maybe he should tell you then. Maybe the fact that he lost something important to him would make up for—no.

Jungkook shook his head, nearly spilling the bourbon in his glass. He paused then, not even sure if he was still drinking bourbon. It all just tasted wet to him at that point.

Regardless, he couldn’t tell you after losing the bike. Even losing it didn’t seem like such a tragedy right now, compared to losing you.

While he agonised over it, the bartender continued bringing him drinks—always on the rocks, even though he couldn’t feel the cold anymore. The bartender was a kind elderly man, who probably should have known better than to keep serving alcohol to someone at six in the morning, but his experience told him that Jungkook was someone who needed it tonight.

Soon, however, Jungkook’s pride—his high tolerance for alcohol—became his biggest foe. He didn’t even realise how intoxicated he had become.

For all intents and purposes, he believed he was still fairly sober, considering how easily he spilt everything that was bothering him to the bartender. He even understood the advice he received in return—not that there was much to it.

“You have to tell her, son.”

He did have to tell you. He knew that.

And he was going to, he decided. Right now.

Jungkook found his way out of the bar with relative ease. Sure, he forgot that he had driven Minjun’s bike there, but he was able to walk without stumbling much, and that surely had to be an achievement.

Swaying only slightly, he stopped in the lot where the bus was parked and found your contact in his phone. Of course, the many emojis he’d used ensured that your name was the first one on the list, but he still found it easily enough.

Now, he had to admit this: he wasn’t sure if you actually answered his call. But he asked you to please, come outside, and within three minutes, you were standing in front of him.

If he had been aware of how drunk he was, he would have realised that he was screaming, so it didn’t matter if you’d picked up his call or not. You would have heard him anyway.

“What’s going on?” you asked, too confused to feel worried. You’d just returned with Yoongi’s laptop about half an hour ago. You weren’t sure if you’d even fallen asleep before coming outside again. “Are you drunk?”

There was exhaustion in your posture that Jungkook was too drunk to identify. You were very tired of dealing with the problems of drunk people tonight.

When Jungkook spoke, words poured out before he could properly think them through.

“Listen,” he said. His tongue felt oversized in his mouth. “I have to tell you something. I can’t—I should’ve told you this a long time ago. Maybe on the same day. Actually,” he hiccupped, “I never should’ve done this at all, then there would be nothing to tell.”

He hesitated for a moment, because in his mind—which was positively swimming in whiskey—he worried that his words may have caused a misunderstanding. He saw the frown on your face and cut in before you started to speak.

“Actually, no,” he said. “There would be things to tell. Because I like—I really—I like to talk to you. I want to tell you all kinds of things...” he paused here. Shook his head. “But not this. I don’t want to tell you this. But I must.”

He thought he came off very determined here, very confident. Really, he just sounded tired and drunk.

“Jungkook,” you said. “When I said we’ll talk tomorrow, I meant in the morning.”

“It’s—” He hiccupped again. “It’s morning.”

He wasn’t wrong, of course.

“After we got some sleep,” you clarified.

“Well, I can’t wait that long,” he insisted, stomping his foot and throwing himself off-balance. He had to lean against the side of the bus to stay upright.

You could tell that whatever he wanted to tell you was far worse than you expected. He was so drunk that he could barely stand, yet he was as determined as ever to get it all out right now.

You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest. The anxiety that you’d evaded was quick to resurface, and even you felt a little unsteady on your feet.

“Okay,” you said. “Well, what is it?”

Jungkook straightened as much as he could.

A deep inhale, followed by a sharp, rushed exhale.

“I made a bet with Sid that I’d get back together with you.”

Silence came next.

You felt a sinking sensation deep within you as if something—an invisible current—was pulling you under the surface of the water. The ground beneath you swirled in uncertain whirlpools.

“Sid said I couldn’t do it,” Jungkook continued after a moment, his eyes cast low. “And I was—I wanted to prove him wrong. He is wrong. He’s always wrong, he’s such a—anyday. I mean, anyway. T-that’s not—I didn’t—this isn’t making any sense.” He slapped himself on the forehead in newfound frustration and you flinched at the abrupt motion. The slap only made the truck stop start to spin around him. Pressing his hands to his hips, he tried to explain, “I didn’t win or anything. Which you obviously know, since we aren’t back together.”

He laughed sadly here. You narrowed your eyes and felt one of them twitch.

The night was cold, and you clutched your arms tighter around yourself. Your posture was not aggressive—you gazed somewhere past him and you appeared frightened. You looked as if the wind might snatch you and carry you off to a place that he could not reach.

But then your eyes met his and there was a frigid emptiness there that he didn’t recognise. He shrunk into himself when he noticed it.

“I-I bet my bike, so I lost that,” he continued. “Well, not yet, but I’m going to lose it soon. Not on purpose, but Sid won’t fucking let me end the bet—” he cut himself off by inhaling again.

It seemed like there was so much oxygen in his lungs—he kept breathing in as he spoke, but never breathing out.

“That’s not the point,” he finished his thought. “What I wanted to do—to say, I mean—is that I’m sorry. I wasn’t—I shouldn’t have done that. It was stupid. Sid got in my head.”

“Sid,” you repeated suddenly. The sharp sound of your voice startled him into looking up. “Got in your head.”

He looked at you for half a heartbeat. Somewhere in the whiskey haze, he could recall his conversation with Taehyung—or someone who resembled Taehyung. Jungkook remembered something about this being his own responsibility.

But then, he wasn’t sure if he remembered who Taehyung even was. Because, to be honest, he wasn’t sure if he remembered who he was.

“That’s an—that’s… that’s an excuse,” he managed to say. The letter S tasted wrong in his mouth. He clicked his tongue and continued, “he’s always in my head. I should’ve known better. I—I’m so sorry.”

You were breathing heavily, but you weren’t speaking.

He blinked his heavy eyes, each one of his eyelashes like lead.

“I just… I want you to know that everything that happened—it wasn’t because of the bet,” he said, swallowing after a great struggle. All these drinks tonight, and his throat still felt dry. “It was because I am—I really have been in love with you the whole time, and I—but I couldn’t—I can’t ask you to get back together while there’s this bet going on. Not that you’d agree—I just hope that you would—but I... i-it wouldn’t feel fair. It’s so—it’s all so fucking stupid.”

He groaned again and covered his face with his hands for a moment while he tried to collect his thoughts. There was so much he wanted to tell you and all of it was coming out so quickly that he wasn’t sure he told you anything at all.

“I had to—I should’ve told you sooner,” he said. Then, biting his lip harder than he’d meant to—the metal piercing dug into it painfully—he added, more softly, “I’m really sorry.”

You remained firm in your position and really started to resemble a statue. Contrary to what he expected, you didn’t ask him a single question. You just stared at him without any distinct emotion in your eyes.

He didn’t know what to do.

“Aren’t you,” he said shakily, “going to say anything?”

You finally moved—to inhale, then exhale. All through it, your chin was turned up as you looked at the line of trees in the distance.

“I’ve got nothing to say to you,” you finally said.

It was a sharp knife to his chest, this hollow voice that was supposed to belong to you.

He hung his head and took a deep breath.

None of this mattered.

It was over.

“You’re drunk,” you added then. “Go to sleep.”

He thought he caught a glimpse of sympathy in your words and he grasped at this flimsy straw and held onto it with all his might.

“Y-you heard me, though, right?” he tried, his voice desperate, eyes watery. “None of it was for the bet, I really—”

“Go to sleep, Jungkook.”

He couldn’t go to sleep, not if it meant he’d have no one to wake up to.

“Can I—” He coughed, the words catching on the sandpaper in his throat. “Can I talk to you in the morning?”

You stayed silent for a long, almost never-ending minute. Jungkook counted each second in his head, and he knew he might have messed up the numbers at least three times, but it still felt like you’d never speak again.

“I don’t think,” you finally said, “we have anything left to talk about.”

You turned around, but stopped for less than a moment, seemingly hesitating when you heard him call your name. Then you took another step and opened the door of the bus, climbing inside and leaving him here alone.

This wasn’t the first time you walked away from him, but this time, he knew it was his fault.

And there was another element to the suffocating grip around his neck—ever since you began to manage Rated Riot, you’d never left him alone when he was drunk.

But you left him tonight.

And even drunk, he knew what it meant.

He thought he’d prepared himself for this. But the sight of your back as you walked away from him, the sound of the bus door as it clicked shut behind you, and the feeling of complete silence around him at the truck stop—it all finally knocked all the oxygen out of his lungs. It made his heart beat faster, ridding his bloodstream of alcohol until all that he felt was pain.

He was not prepared for this. He doubted he ever could have prepared for it.

But he should have known this would happen.

He really fucked up. He ruined everything. It was over.

Hunching over as he tried to inhale but couldn’t, Jungkook pressed his hand to his chest. He felt something pulsating under his fingers, but he wasn’t sure what it was. Someone had emptied out the cavity inside of him where his organs had once been and filled it with rocks.

His vision was white and blurred. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, couldn’t stand.

He didn’t know what was happening to him.

He felt himself slide over the side of the bus until he hit the floor and smacked his head into the bus wall as violent tremors took over his body. He tried to breathe as he counted the beats of his heart until he couldn’t listen to his pulse whispering the same conclusion to him over and over again.

It was over.

It was—

His hand dug into the gravel on the ground, then grabbed the front of his shirt and held it in a tight fist. He didn’t know what to do with himself. Nothing worked to stop the relentless judgment from breaching his resistant mind.

He ruined everything. It was over.

Jungkook didn’t know how long he struggled to fill his lungs with something other than the heavy, opaque pain of losing you again.

He didn’t know why he struggled, nothing even mattered anymore.

When he eventually realised that he was still here and you still weren’t, there was an early morning redness in his eyes and on the edges of the sky above him.

Most unusually, the only clear thought in his head was about the bike that he’d told Minjun he would return. Another promise that he had failed to keep as he suddenly remembered abandoning the motorcycle by the bar.

Then he remembered the bar.

He had already drunk half of it.

He struggled to his feet, rubbed his eyes with the balls of his palms, and went back to finish the other half.

chapter title credits: bad omens, “what do you want from me?”

prev ○ next

531 notes · View notes

sweetestcaptainhughes · 5 months ago

Text

Hungover

GIF isn’t mine. create to creator @gabelandeskog

Word Count - 902

Possible triggers - I truly can’t think of any, maybe alcohol use? It’s really just some pure fluff I thought of after waking up very hungover this past weekend.I guess use of Y/N if that’s considered a trigger?

Summary: After a girls night out waking up extremely hungover and Quinn has to fill you in on what happened once you got home last night.

As you felt yourself wake up, the first thing you felt was the dryness of your mouth and not even 10 seconds later the pounding of your head. Then as your stomach churned as you were fighting the urge to not wince in pain from the mixture all of a sudden realizing how drunk you actually got the night before. You could feel the light being so bright before you even decided to open your eyes and that’s when you decided to cuddle further into your boyfriend with a moan of pain.

“Make it stop please.” Y/N barely whispered to Quinn.

He couldn’t help the light chuckle escape his lips as he turned his body so he was facing his girlfriend. Quinn wrapped his arms around you and kept your legs tangled. “Make what stop baby?” he asked teasingly knowing damn well you want the pain to stop.

You peaked one eye open barely and then immediately closed it. “It’s too bright in here, please make it stop.” you softly demanded. But even in your sick state you knew it was impossible to already make the barely lite room any darker.

“Yes let me get right on that, I’ll just tell the sun that my precious Y/N isn’t ready to face the day yet because she drank too many tequila sunrises last night.” As he continues to chuckle and hold you tighter.

“It wasn’t tequila sunrises, it was run punches!Thank you very much!” you softly argued.

He chuckles at the fact that even when you feel like dying you can’t stop yourself from correcting him. “I would ask if you had fun with BF/N but since I remember last night and you coming home I already know that you did.”

“You were awake when I came home?” you ask softly, finally deciding to open your eyes and look at your boyfriend. “I don’t remember that. Actually I don’t remember anything from last night past getting in the uber with BF/N.”

“Yes BF/N called me from the uber also drunk out of her mind but more sober then you and told me that there was no way she could get you out the uber by herself and demanded I meet you downstairs. You did fight me on properly getting ready for bed and I will say I have the battle scars to prove it.” As Quinn lifted his arm you saw the red marks of the scratches on his arm.

You let out a gasp of surprise as you went to grab his arm and bring it to your mouth to softly kiss the scratch marks as you mumbled your apologies. “It’s okay baby. I know you were really drunk and to be fair it was either my arm or your ankle as you fell on your ass. I will always pick up on me getting hurt over you.” As he scooted even closer to you if that was even possible and you both closed your eyes fully ready to go back to bed for a few hours. “Hey don’t go back to sleep baby, we gotta get up soon for lunch remember mom and dad are in town?”

You actually let out a sound of your mouth between a whine and moan. “No, I forgot. I’m so hungover” you sigh.

“Okay well do you want some Advil now and water? I tried to get you to take it last night but you refused and passed out before I could convince you.” He softly asks as he strokes your hair, something he knows always brings you deep comfort even when you're hungover you’ve been in months.

“Yes please.” you mumble. You feel the weight of the bed shift as Quinn reaches over to the bedside table and grabs the Advil and bottle of water he left on the table last night on purpose.

“Here baby you gotta sit up a little to take it. “ You sit up barely but refuse to open your eyes, Quinn chuckles as he drops medicine in your already open mouth and brings the lid to your mouth. Once the water touches your lips it feels like you're a new person. You take the bottle out of Quinns hands and drink a decent amount until your stomach decides if you drink anymore you might vomit.

As you lay down to get comfortable you say “remind me to never drink again, I’ve never been that hungover.” You hear Quinn chuckle at your recent declaration.

“Babygirl you know I love you but you say that everytime you wake up the next morning hungover as fuck.” As he wraps his arms around you.

“And I mean it!” As you find yourself snuggling deeper into his chest. You can feel the rumbles under you from him continuing to laugh at you.

“Okay okay 10 more minutes and then we have to get up or we will be late for lunch considering we are suppose to meet them at 1 and its already 11:30.”

“Okay.. hey quinny?” you ask as you look up at him, as your head lays on his chest.

“Hmm” he asks.

“Thanks for always taking care of me.” as you hug him a little tighter.

The last thing you remember before you drift back to sleep is him kissing you on the forehead. “I’ll always take care of you baby. I love you.”

Authors note:

Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you all think, this is the first time I'm posting on this blog.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #hughes imagine #qh43 #schwritingsqh43

334 notes · View notes

yizmiu · 8 months ago

Text

SITUATIONSHIP 〻ᯇ # lee heeseung

004. love | smau + written (606 wrds)

IN WHICH ✶ y/n loved the idea of love, simply because she hadn’t experienced it yet. She hoped and prayed that love would come to her at the perfect time of her life where she’s mentally stable and ready for it. So when she suddenly gets attention from Lee Heeseung—she can’t tell if she likes this or not? This sudden attention, he was extremely sweet to her, way too sweet that it was suspicious. Given his reputation, Heeseung wasn’t the type to settle. So why was he all up on Y/n? and just why was Y/n enjoying it? She was confused with herself and her new situationship, maybe she’s just overstimulated by everything and scared to commit.

Heeseung made eye contact with the girl who stood next to the balcony, observing the party from above. He waved with his right hand, his left occupied with a red solo cup.

Y/n waved back, not surprised to see the man then make his way up the stairs. Although talking to Heeseung can be exhausting to her (because she doesn’t know his motives), she was always thinking of ways to entertain the man so she doesn’t come off as rude.

“Y/n, is this your first party?” Heeseung lightly teased the girl to start their conversation. “No, I’m not as geeky as everyone says I am.” She rolled her eyes. “I just don’t like drinking that much so I don’t see the point in going.”

“My friends wanted me to be here so I’m here, but if we’re being real, Soobin is just tired of being the designated driver and having to stay sober the night.” She joked with him.

“I wouldn’t want to stay sober at a Kappa Chi party either.” Heeseung laughs. “So, I’m guessing you’re not enjoying yourself?” Heeseung asked.

“Watching everyone dance and stumble from the balcony is very enjoyable.” She said sarcastically.

“Come dance with me! It’s very fun.” Heeseung said excitedly as he pouted his lips at the girl. “I can’t even dance, and I feel like I'd have to be drunk for that…” Y/n thought about how awkward she’d feel dancing.

“Okay…then can I show you something? It’s in Beomgyu’s room, I promise nothing fishy! He has a cool guitar collection. I want to play you something.

“Beomgyu won’t mind?” Y/n asked. “He’s like one of my best friends of course he won’t, and besides he’s like drunk out of his mind right now…” The two turned their heads to Choi Beomgyu who was seen chugging a cup of beer as he was currently losing a game of beer pong.

“Okay, then.” Y/n nodded her head. Heeseung smiled at the girl as he took the lead to Beomgyu’s room.

The two walked into the fairly big room, “What’s your favorite ‘wave to earth’ song?” Heeseung asked as he closed the door.

“Uhm, I’ve been liking ‘love’ a lot recently.” Y/n said as she saw Heeseung gently grab the light blue electric guitar that was hanging on the wall.

“Sit.” Heeseung patted the ottoman in front of the bed, gesturing to the girl.

“Be ready to be impressed.” Heeseung sat on the bed across from where she had been sitting on the ottoman.

“Okay, impress me then.” Y/n playfully rolled her eyes.

Heeseung started stringing the guitar.

The room was being filled with beautiful chords that were currently being created from the fingers of the boy in front of her.

“Sing it for me, please.” Heeseung asked the girl as he was playing the instrument. Y/n nodded her head, quietly singing the lyrics. “Louder, please.” Heeseung chuckled. “Okay.” Y/n laughed, singing the song a little louder now.

With Heeseung’s guitar playing and Y/n’s singing, time stopped, or at least for the two of them.

Endlessly staring into each other's eyes this moment felt like forever.

“Is this song really that long?” Y/n thought to herself.

“Oh, sorry.” The chimes of text messages breaking their eye contact. “My friends are asking where I am…I should go see them.” Y/n quickly replied to their texts and stood up. “Yeah, don’t want them to worry.” Heeseung nervously chuckled, still feeling the tension between the two.

“I’ll talk to you later?” Heeseung said, in a questioning tone.

“We’ll see.” Y/n cheekily smirked.

—

m.list — previous — next

ᯇ ೀ taglist ( open ) ; @lilacnini @haechology @heegyuwrld @wonyoungsvirus @enhaz1 @sparklingsjy @skzeyeu @euncsace @hotsforikeu @simjyunnie @yenqa @eleanorheartschishiya @ahnneyong @teddywonss @parkwonbinluvr @k1ttylvr @doulcie @wonifullove @woninluv @ilyjxdz @dimplewonie @grah127 @missychief1404 @eclipse-777 @heelee-01 @aerivrs @amesification @txtbrainrot @haechansbbg @jaem4eva @rikizm @oldjws

#heeseung fanfic #heeseung x reader #enhypen #enhypen smau #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #heeseung smau #heeseung x you #heeseung enhypen #lee heesung x reader #heeseung fluff #heeseung scenarios #heeseung imagines #heeseung #enhypen imagines

178 notes · View notes

angelofsmalldeaath · 7 months ago

Text

wasteland, baby! — a.h.b.

cw: mentions of food (cake), kissing

“is that…” he trails off, coming to a standstill at the threshold of the kitchen. i freeze, spoon halfway to my mouth and give him a sheepish smile.

“you weren’t supposed to be awake!”

“neither were you!” he accuses, walking in, rubbing his eyes to get rid of the sleep. his hair is matted on one side, his big old sleep t-shirt almost sliding off his shoulders.

“you heathen,” he sits next to me on the kitchen floor, placing a quick kiss on my lips, “that cake was for tomorrow.”

i shrug, stuff another spoonful of the chocolate monstrosity in my mouth.

“i was feeling existential. the cake helped. besides,” i scoop some more on the spoon, hold it in front of his mouth, “when did you even get this?”

he smiles and shakes his head, then takes the bite of the cake and sighs. his face relaxes, soft and pretty in the dim moonlight shining into our kitchen. “oh, that is good! i timed it for after you’d have gone to bed. so it would be a surprise.”

“it was,” i giggle, “i was absolutely delighted when i opened the fridge.”

he snorts and takes the spoon from me. just as i’m about to protest, he scoops up some of the chocolate frosting and shoves it in his mouth. then he smiles at me—a proper chocolate covered toothy grin to match my own until we both burst out laughing.

“weren’t you calling me a heathen just now?!”

“that was before i tasted the cake,” he holds his hands up in defence. a moment later, he sobers up, clears his throat.

“why were you feeling existential?”

“mmm, maybe because in—” i sneak a glance at the clock on the microwave, at the glowing 23:57, “—three minutes i’ll be another year older.”

“and is that so bad?”

i toy with the spoon in my hand, absently carving a circle around the cherry on the cake. “i don’t know. i wish i did though.”

he’s quiet for a bit, thinking maybe, staring at me—my face and my eyes and my lips until i shy away from his gaze. “what if it’s really really good? the happiest year of your life?”

“and after that?” i giggle “does that mean it’s all downhill from there? the beginning of the end?”

he tsks, lightly flicks me on the forehead. “why does that matter now? today?”

i shrug, eat another spoonful of cake. he takes the spoon from me and takes another bite too.

“i suppose it doesn’t. maybe future me should deal with that existential dread. sat here on this same kitchen floor, two minutes before midnight.”

“is future you also stealing your own birthday cake?” he snorts, teasing me affectionately.

i blow him a raspberry, and when he laughs i take him in, take in the crinkles around his eyes and the chocolate on his lips. i take in his sleepy hair and the softness of his old t-shirt—all of it so familiar, all of it made of love and love and love and—

“need me to kiss you until you forget everything else?”

“yes please!” i set the cake aside and jump in his arms.

his soft lips somehow taste sweeter than the cake. his body is warm—firm and so so familiar that i melt like there are no bones in my body. as if my body is made to fit against his, moulded to match the hollows and crevices of him, made to fit together. he caresses my cheek, smiles softly against my lips. and when he holds me close, i know he never intends on letting me go.

“happy birthday, my love,” he whispers when i pull back to catch my breath. the clock on the microwave reads 00:00—the start of a new day, a new year too.

“it’s a good way to start it,” i laugh and press another kiss to his lips.

“better than eating stolen cake?”

“you ask tough questions,” i tease.

he rolls his eyes but picks up the cherry, nudges it against my mouth. “go on, you get the cherry on top.”

i bite into it, sighing at the sweetness. “i think you’re right. maybe it will be really really good.”

“you think so?” he picks up the spoon again and takes one more bite.

“i do.” i take the spoon back from him, take my last bite. “and if it isn’t, well…at least i can be back here with you, eating stolen cake on the kitchen floor.”

#this is so incredibly self indulgent whoops #hozier x reader #andrew hozier byrne #hozier #hozier fluff #wasteland baby #Spotify

128 notes · View notes

dirtsturns · 5 months ago

Text

Drunk Games - M.S

Warnings: Smut, sex, fluff, drunk, drinking, cursing, unprotected sex, use of y/n, drunk sex, also my first one!”

Matt(dom)x reader(bossysub)

“Matt!” I yell throughout the house. I walk into the house and it was an absolute mess. Great. This is exactly what I want to come home to. A messy house that I can’t even find my boyfriend in. “Matt? Where the fuck are you?” I ask out loud again. I step into our room seeing him laying on top of his keyboard, looking up at the screen lazily. He raises his hand off hennessy bottle to wave at me.

“Oh. Hi, baby.” He smiles. Smiling at me with the mess I have to clean. I hate that perfect smile.

“Matt, what the fuck!? The whole place is a mess and you’re drunk off the damn bottle!” I pick up the bottle, shoving it in his face.

“It’s- it’s fine, y/n.” He slurred his words.

“It’s not fine-!” I yell, but finally bringing my voice down. “I-I am getting changed and leaving. A- and when I come back you better have cleaned and be sober, matt.” I say with my voice cracking. I took my shirt off over my head looking for some other shirt. I see Matt get up from the corner of my eye. He comes behind me holding my bare waist.

“I want you off now.” I hit his hand off my waist. He nuzzled his head in the crook of my neck. “Stop it.”

“Come on, baby.” he chuckles. I try and push his head off but he was already to on me. His arms snaked around my waist again pushing me against him.

“Matt, stop it. Please.” I whined, gripping his forearms trying to push him off. He just wouldn’t budge. Matt doesn’t act like this. Well he usually doesn’t.

“Just shut the fuck up and relax.” He grabbed my chin, looking at me now. I open my mouth in protest but instead I close my mouth and just nod my head yes to him. His mood swings were absolutely horrible. “Listen, baby. I just want you to feel good, please.” He says, kissing on my neck.

“Baby, please.” I shake my head.

“Didn’t I say shut your motherfucking mouth.”

“But I-.” I shut my mouth. He reaches his hand down from my stomach to the hem of pants.

“Yeah, I like it when your pretty mouth stays shut.” I obviously stay quiet. I didn’t like when he got mean, but I definitely like it when he spoke like that. His hand reaches into my pants past my underwear. The tip of his index finger on my clit catches me by surprise causing me to gasp. “Strike one.”

“Strikes? What? I- how much strikes do I have!?” I ask.

“Strike two. You had three. You’re down to one, okay?” I nod once again. He kissed my neck gently, pushing my hair out the way with his free hand. He rubs my clit making me want to moan so bad. He brings two fingers to my hole slightly rubbing the outside before jamming it in. I moan. It’s like he wanted me to make a noise. What was he trying to prove? That he could make me moan and cum while he was drunk? “I knew you were going to moan, you little slut.” He says bringing his hand to my neck, guiding me to the bed still sticking his fingers in and out of me. He lays me down his body on top of mine. He bites down on my neck, curling his fingers inside of me.

“oh my- fuck.” I cum all over his fingers. so couldn’t wait at all. I couldn’t wait not one minute later.

“Couldn’t wait, could you?”

“No. No, i’m sorry.” I watch him pull down his sweatpants and boxer just enough to where his dick hits his stomach.. “Baby, please. I’m exhausted.”

“Just be quiet and take it.” He grits between his teeth, throwing my pants off. He moves my panties to the side not even taking them off. He wraps my legs around his waist, pushing me closer to the point his tip on my clit. He was such a tease.

“Fuck, Matt.” I pant, pushing him back with my hand on his chest. “Stop.” Keep going? I don’t know what I want for him to do right now. He pushes his cock in me with no warning. “Ow, Matt!” I yell. I’m never able to take all of him he would always stop about halfway. Taking all of him hurt like hell but from how much it hurt it somehow still felt like heaven. He was still not moving inside of me. He started moving once again. Matt started slow becoming faster and faster. My body was moving with his same speed. My tits going up and down with his strokes. He was bruising fucking cervix from how hard he was going. I could feel both of us coming to reaching our climax once. My eye sight were becoming blurry and his thrust were sloppy. I cummed once again. My legs were shaking and I just couldn’t take anymore, but he kept going until he shot his load into me. He kissed me slipping his tongue into my mouth, lazily.

I lied there in sweat all over me with cum leaking out of my pussy. “I hate you when you’re drunk.” I sighed angry at him.

“I think I pretty much sobered up in the middle of it.” he smirked.

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo

45 notes · View notes

lushta1es0nm3 · 9 months ago

Text

Distraction

Pairing: Kim Hingjoong x reader

Summary: “It’s not far that your sitting here feeling like shit, let me help you feel better”

Warning: Mature! 18+ you have been warned

Genre: Fluffy smut

A/N: Read at your own risk and if you choose to read please feel free to give feedback and request. Please enjoy. 😊

You smiled as the room filled with loud cheers and people laughter. This party you attended as a plus one was going well, but being that the place was crowded, you were in desperate need of some air and silence.

That being said, you took that moment as a chance to disappear out into the back yard. Ignoring the cold, it felt good compared to how hot it was inside. A small sigh left your painted red lips as you quickly found a spot to sit down.

Pulling out your phone you checked the time, it was almost 2 am. Damn, good thing tomorrow was the weekend. But still you wanted sleep and fuzzy pajamas over the skin tight dress and heels.

The sound of the door opening and closing quickly but quietly made you look up. The guy who this party was for had stepped outside himself and had yet to notice your presence. By his posture and walk, you could tell he was intoxicated.

You watched as he fumbled to pull out his phone and began making a phone call. Whoever answered it, began swearing and yelling so loud, you could hear it. He swore back at the person and began asking why. Damn sis, he was going through it. He hung up the phone and as he did, he finally looked up and his eyes landed on you.

He became embarrassed but you could see how heartbroken he was as tears slipped from his drunk face. You approached him, disregarding the fact that you didn’t know him. You hugged him and he broke down in tears.

After some time he calmed down, you’d sat him down and at some point you went inside quickly and grabbed some napkins to wipe his face. He spilled his drunken guts, explaining his situation, to a complete stranger and you listened and comforted him. When he was done and a little sober, he thanked you and asked your name, just as the person who brought you called your name.

You exchanged names and numbers. You learned his name was Hongjoong and he waved goodbye as others from inside came out to bring him back inside. All the while, you couldn’t help think, who in their right mind would cheat on him?………

One month later, and here you were again, sitting in bar, your friend thought it’d be a good idea to hangout with Hongjoong and a few other people you met at the party. There were only four of you sitting at the table, chatting and talking. Hongjoong was sitting next you, you’d been texting each other since that night. So you we’re pretty much friends at the moment.

Everything was going well, until, a girl you’d never seen before walked up to the table and tapped him on the shoulder. Everyone grew quiet as the atmosphere began to dim down. You were confused by the sudden shift in mood, you went to ask your friend on the opposite side of you a question but the girl had begun to speak.

“You must be his new girlfriend,” she assumed looking at you with a fake smile, “you moved on quickly didn’t you?” She looked at Hongjoong and her smile dropped.

“Don’t start,” he warned, “just go away.”

“I just wanted to see if you could do better that me, but I see you can’t.” She issued an unnecessary insult.

“Excuse me,” you started with a cold smirk, everyone looked at you, and your friend grabbed you knowing your temper, “you don’t know me,” you went to stand up but your friend was holding you down in your seat.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes at you and then looked back at Hongjoong, who was clenching his jaw in aggravation.

“When you’re done with her, you ca-” She started to offer.

“Just go away,” Hongjoong demanded cutting her off, “I’m surprised you have the nerve to come over here with your bullshit.”

“Are you mad at me because I said something to her?” She scoffed. When no one answered she left as quickly as she came. But the mood was still down, you sighed as your friends decided to dismiss themselves to the restroom. Leaving you and Hongjoong alone.

“Are you okay?” He asked you.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” You asked him coolly, “she doesn’t know me.”

A small smile graced his lips at your response, before he could respond. You followed up with a joke or two, causing him to laugh. He called you lame, as you started to banter back and forth.

“Thank you.” He said after some time had passed.

“For what?” You asked confused.

“For distracting me.” He answered.

You giggled at him, brushing it off, but he was serious. You distracted him that night at the party and even over texts from the last month. Now you’d distracted him from the encounter with his ex. Making it seem like it happened days ago, when it fact happened moments ago.

After your friends finally appeared, they were sorta surprised that the mood was light and happy again and so quickly. But no one dwindled on it, after a few more drinks and more talking, it was time to go home. But your friends wanted to keep going so, you split up again. Leaving you alone with Hongjoong.

You guys walked and talked about random stuff, at some point you guys decided to stop at a convenience store to grab a quick to drink and snack to wash down the alcohol. The moment you entered the store though, your smile fell slightly at the sight in front of you. His ex was there, with some dude.

Hongjoong looked over at what you were looking at, you thought he’d stop smiling but, he didn’t. He kept on talking and smiling as if she wasn’t there. You’re ass seeming concerned but knowing better than to ask, you followed him over to the drinks.

As he was asking what would be better juice or water, she began to walking around the aisle like she was looking for something. This bitch had some serious ego to do this. Hongjoong called your name and you looked at him.

“I’ll take a water,” you answered, “I’m too thirsty for juice.”

“What about chips?” He asked as he grabbed both your beverages out of the cooler.

“Whatever you like is fine,” you answered returning the smile he was giving you.

Now bitch, this man took that as an opportunity to give you brief peck on the lips. To say you were stunned would be an understatement. Your hand flew to your lips as you stared at him red faced and shook. Very much taken very far aback.

“I’m sorry, baby” He apologized, “I was distracted and I couldn’t help it.”

You blinked and spoke without thinking, “You know a voicemail would’ve been a nice warning.” You stated as you gave him the skeptical side eye and followed behind him as he walked to the register.

You went to pull out your wallet but, Miss. Ma’am, he stopped you and paid for everything quickly. He then took your hand, causing you to look at him wide eyed as he pulled you out of the store with him. Leaving his ex standing there looking as foolish as her ego.

Once outside, you pulled away and stared at him for a second before you started hitting him, he began dodging you and running. All the while you were telling him off for not asking before using you in his little plan to make his ex feel small. He kept saying he was sorry, but you were on his ass like rain. Chasing and running around made you tired as fuck, but it was a good thing you made it to your destination.

Walking inside your small apartment, you flipped on lights out of breathe and sat down on the floor by the couch. Hongjoong followed suit, sitting on the floor beside you. It was quiet for a second, you looked over at him as he locked eyes with you. Not a second later you jumped onto him, but to no avail, he’d grabbed your wrist as he fell backwards, laughing at you the entire time.

“I said I was sorry!” He protested laughing at your attempts to try and kick his ass.

“No you’re not, next time warn me before using me like that! You did it on purpose!” You fussed as you freed one of your wrist. You managed to hit him one time but didn’t get any further because he started tickling you, causing you to cry out in laughter as you attempted to stop him.

Eventually you begged for mercy, promising to give up. Out of energy, you let go of all your weight on him, laying on his chest. A moment later and you felt his body shake a little. He was quietly sobbing, again. But you could understand, they’d been together for a long time and she’d been playing behind his back the entire time.

You sat up, straddling him now and wiped his face. He covered his face in attempt to hide how pathetic he felt, but you, for some god forsaken reason, pulled his hands away and kissed him. While placing his hands on your waist, he kissed you back surprisingly. Pulling away, you stayed inches away from his face, the tips of your noses touched.

“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong apologized, “this is the second time I’ve cried in front of you.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered as he pecked your lips, “I don’t mind, remember, I’m a distraction, use me to feel better.”

“That’s not fair to you.” He replied seriously finally looking at you.

“It also isn’t fair for you to be here feeling like shit while she’s fucking off.” You reasoned, “besides, I don’t mind being a distraction.”

You kissed him again and brushed the few remaining tears from his eyes. Truthfully, you’d gotten to know him with the last two months of meeting and since then, you’d grown to care for him deeply as a person. His sadness hurt you more than it should, but no one knew that.

“Y/N,” Hongjoong sighed breaking away from you and sitting up now, with you still straddling his lap, “stop, distraction or not, what about after?”

“Don’t worry about after, ” you replied flat out as you pulled your shirt over your head, “don’t think,” you placed your arms around his neck, “I just want you to feel good.”

He searched your eyes for any sign of uncertainty and found none. But what he did find was the fact that you indeed looked hot and fuckable at the moment. Your pretty lips, that he couldn’t resist earlier were moving, what they were saying was unbeknownst to him.

Hongjoong abruptly cupped your cheeks in his large hands and kissed you, finally caving in to his body’s reaction towards you. You both became quickly entangled in the moment of pure arousal. His hands wondered about, aimlessly and now needy his felt up your curves, loving your soft and smooth flesh.

Your hand made contact with his belt as you fumbled to find your way into his pants. His cock throbbing as you freed it, rubbing your palm against it, Hongjoong let out a breath a shaky breath as he pulled away from you.

He went for your chest and neck, kissing them eagerly as you rubbed his cock at an even pace. Fully into it now Hongjoong breath was shaky to stifle his moans as his stomach clenched up. But the moment you started to go down on him he stopped you.

“No,” he voiced, pulling you back up, from your kissing his stomach and chest, “these,” he gripped your chin and brushed his thumb across your lip, “are not make for that.”

Hongjoong kissed you again, but briefly and pulled away, “Just rub me,” he urged placing your hand right back onto his hard cock, “if you’re going to be a distraction, than do what I say.”

“Then that would make me your toy.” You commented as he kissed your neck.

He pulled away and looked at you finally with hooded eyes, “Isn’t that what you want?” He asked.

You scoffed and smirked at him as you began rubbing him and kissing him………..

How interesting, he didn’t want to take advantage of you. But you so openly offered yourself to him and once the wheels started turning, he’d become somewhat different. And that was a low key hot. A few months came and went, for the most part, it was as if nothing happened. But every now and again, you’d find yourself lip locked with him when you were alone. Or you’d both be helping the other ride the wave of bliss.

So, that being said, here you were, minding your own business when, you bumped into her. You didn’t see her, but she saw you. Coming out of a coffee shop, too busy on your phone texting your boss that you’d finished running the errand he sent you on and that you were headed back.

She stopped you by stepping in way, blocking your path and you looked up. Confused, you looked her up and down and tried to step around her but she wouldn’t move.

“How are you,” she started folding her arms, “are you still sleeping with him?”

You huffed and rolled your eyes, “Find something important to do.” You sighed.

“This is important,” she smirked.

“Look what I do has nothing to do with you. I don’t even know you.” You explained not in the mood.

“But your sleeping with my boyfriend.” She blurted out.

Your jaw dropped, the audacity, “You don’t have a boyfriend. Remember, you did a lot of dirt. And honestly, who I’m sleeping with is none of your business.”

She scoffed and pulled out her phone, playing video of you sitting in Hongjoong’s lap topless making out. You were shook, but said nothing and showed no emotion towards the video. As she spoke again.

“He sent this to me a while ago, technically we weren’t broken up when he sent me this.” She commented.

You smiled, “Is that so, good for you, I’ve got some work to do, so goodbye.” You shoved passed her finally.

You went back to work, but you couldn’t help but wonder how and when did Hongjoong take such an illustrious video. You thought about it so hard that you managed to come up with a when. That time you were going to town on his neck, his phone had rung, he didn’t answer, but you remembered him swearing and being on his phone for a few moments before putting it away.

The encounter with Hongjoong’s ex was long since gone from your mind. Like bitch you literally forgot about it, because low key, you just didn’t care. Sitting outside on a park bench with friends was fine and dandy, it was something like a picnic with friends but at night. One of your friends brought a guy who looked somewhat familiar.

He introduced himself to everyone, smiling as he did, his eyes stayed on you longer than necessary. You brushed it off as nothing and kept talking to your friends. Everything was going fine when Hongjoong finally showed up. He apologized for being late but no one was holding it against him. New guy was talking to you, trying to get to know you, Hongjoong sat on the opposite side of you.

You gave him a glance and went back to answering the question. A few minutes later, the new guy asked you if you were interested in dating him. You giggled thinking it was a joke, Hongjoong, who was talking to someone else, placed a hand on your lower back. He wasn’t paying attention to his actions, maybe it was because he felt comfortable next to you. Or maybe it was the drinks, either way you made no moves to remove his hand.

The guy seemed to notice and asked you were dating anyone and you replied no with a smile. As more time progressed, you’d eventually lend back an onto Hongjoong’s chest. At some point he was sitting behind you. He didn’t budge or make any moves to stop you as he ate chips, at some point he feed you one as everyone lay listening to a story being told by a friend.

Someone spotted a group walking towards your groups little late night picnic session. It was Miss. ma’am and her crew of three other girls. You nor Hongjoong were paying attention, because he thought it be a good idea to flick your forehead causing you to silently bicker with him. But the moment his name was called, you both looked up curiously.

“Damn, it’s like that?” Some one asked.

You both looked confused as fuck, not realizing what you both were doing. His ex and her crew were conversing with the new guy and someone else as to why she wasn’t welcome. She wasn’t taking a hint, she wanted drama. But she wasn’t getting any, as Hongjoong was to engrossed and distracted, he picking at you.

You heard both your names being called, just as Hongjoong had begun playing with your hands. Finally you the two of you looked up.

“Sooo,” one of them started, “are you guys dating, because that looks like flirting.”

“No!” You both answers at the same time, in the same tone.

Looking around, you realized you’d been caught. The look you both received made you swear inwardly as you stood up, “it’s not like that,” you explained, “we’re just friend.”

“Ha,” his ex started outing your business and brought up the video.

Hongjoong finally stood up and pulled you up from the ground, he dusted himself off and while everyone was looking the other way, he pulled you along with him swiftly without being noticed. A few blocks later and you were in his apartment, backed up against the front door with him eating at your neck.

Both your phones rang after some time of making out, the constant ringing made him huff and answer it. He grabbed your hand and pulled you over to the couch and sat down, pulling you into his lap.

“Hello,” he answered as he gestured for you to continue, you did, you kissed his neck and placed your hands under his shirt, “we left, why?” He answered the questions that were being asked.

“Well,” he continued with a sigh, “I don’t care,” he threw his head back on the back of the couch as you pulled at his pants. He put the phone of speaker and tossed it beside him before pulling his shirt over his head.

“If you guys are seeing each other why didn’t you just come out with it? We brought him here because hook him up with Y/N.”

“Ha,” Hongjoong replied after taking your shirt off and unhooking your bra, he mumbled that it was his favorite color before speaking out loud enough for them to hear, “that’s cute,” he remarked, “but she’s mine at the moment.”

“What the hell has gotten into both of you?” Your friend chimed in with an attitude.

No answer came, as you’d pulled Hongjoong’s pants down, he cupped your cheek with one hand and felt up your ass with the other. More talking could be heard on the phone, it annoyed Hongjoong, so he let out and exaggerated and irritated huff.

“What we do is none of her business. She came to stir up shit, that’s her problem. Right now I’m busy, have a good life.” He picked up the phone and hung it up, or so he thought. He looked at you as he tossed it to the side, “take it off,” he demanded in a low voice, “stop teasing me.”

You blinked at him, biting your lips, what the actual fuck was going through his head. It made you hot and slightly nervous. Well ma’am, he wanted all of you and he was outright demanding it.

“Do I have to do it for you,” he started again, “do it while I’m asking nicely.”

You hesitated for a brief second before taking off the rest of your clothes, you didn’t realize it, but it was you who hung up the phone finally. And good thing you did, because his next words shook you and made you soaking wet.

“On your knees, now,” he demanded, you obliged, getting down in front of him, watching as he stroked his hard cock and bit his lips while looking down at you from his seated position on the couch, “put that pretty mouth to use,” he stated lowly, putting his tip to your lips, “I’m done playing,” you did as told and took him into your, bobbing your head up and down slowly and wiggling your tongue around. He sucked in a breath and grabbed a handful of your hair, “fuck,” he let out a raspy grunt and thrusted into your mouth a few times before stopping himself when he heard you gagging and struggling to swallow his entire cock.

He pulled himself out of your mouth and brought you up from your knees, “Get up here.” He ordered sliding down enough to bring your folds to his lips. He sat you down onto his mouth and began eating you out and tongue fucking you. Your hips bucked and legs clenched as you grabbed at his hair in an attempt to escape the hot wetness of his mouth.

Hongjoong had other plans though, he held you down with strong arms. You could feel him smirking as he ate away, making you body move on its own. You were riding his face and he was enjoying every bit of it. So much so, that he kept eating until you started to tremble and beg him.

He smacked your ass finally and let you go, laughing at you. Enjoying how hot and turned on you were, he sat back up on the couch and positioned you on to his tip, “Look at you,” he remarked as he slide you down onto him slowly, “slutty just for me,” he kissed you, mixing your taste, “is it too much?” He asked, you shook your head and let out a moan as he finally entered you balls deep, he gripped your ass. Lifting you up and down, looking at you with hooded dark eyes, “he asked you out in front of me. I don’t like sharing Y/N.”

He began fucking into you as you moaned and kissed his neck, “Fuck,” you managed to whimper out, “why didn’t you tell me that? It’s too hard”

“What you don’t like it,” he asked mockingly as he kept thrusting up into you, helping you ride him faster, “you want me to stop?”

“No, I love it, make me cum please” you whimpered as he took one of your breast into his mouth.

Your walls clenched around his throbbing cock, you were close but he pulled out and you nearly cried. He stood up and turned you around, bending you over, he entered from the back and smack your ass hard causing an echo to emit across the room. He thrusted into you deep and slow, while kissing the back of your neck, marking you up and pulling and twisting your nipples.

Without warning, you began to tremble again and shake, you let out a blissful breathy moan as you began to cream. You thought he’d stop, but he did not, Hongjoong thrust became quick and harsh, causing you to loose your breath as he fucked you through you orgasm.

You saw stars and became weak, your head fell backwards, onto his chest and he sat back down with you still on his hard throbbing cock. Hongjoong’s hand found your neck as he squeezed lightly and thrusted into you more. He was coming himself, the tight grip he had on your hips told you so. You squirmed, wanting to escape from this immense pleasure.

Hongjoong grabbed your waist, and bounced you up and down on him. You cried a little from how deep he was, you still tried to escape for a moment to breathe. But that only pissed him off further. He flipped you both over, laying you onto your stomach he entered you again from the back and began pounding into you rough and hard. He held you in place, enjoying how you squirmed about wanting to run, yet you arched your back for more.

He grunted and after a few wild thrust, he began to cum and so did you for the third time. He kept pounding into you until he emptied his entire load in you. You shivered and panted as he pulled out completely, now out of breath. Hongjoong sat down and pulled you into his lap. He lifted your chin and kissed your lips tenderly and smiled at you. Enjoying how fucked out you were.

“All of this is mine,” Hongjoong whispered, “no one else can have any.” He picked you up and carried you to his bedroom, where, let’s just say you didn’t get any rest that night……..

So months later, you’d become a couple, no surprise there. You were outside waiting for Hongjoong to come down so that you could enjoy a quick lunch together. But also talking to a client for your boss, you were in the midst of exchanging contact info. When all of a sudden your phone was pulled out of your hand. You looked up confused, oblivious and ready to fight.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Hongjoong asked as you spun around to look at him.

“I’m working,” you answered taking your phone back and turning back to gentlemen. You apologized to him and quickly finished your conversation before turning back to Hongjoong.

He was staring at you with a blank cold expression. You sighed as you looked up at him, “I’m working,” you explained softly, “that’s a client’s secretary, does it look like I want to wake up the beast?”

He said nothing, for a moment, “I’m going to kick your ass.” He finally stated. Your mouth dropped, “why didn’t you tell me that when you know was coming down?”

“Hey,” you countered, “I wasn’t expecting you to roll up on me like that.”

“Y/N,” Hongjoong started with the icy look

“No,” you gave up and held your hands up, “I’m sorry, you win!”

He smiled and you back up, “That’s bullshit.” You pointed out, “wipe that fake ass smile off your face, it’s scary!”

He shook his head at you still smiling, watching as you backed up. You abruptly decided to run, knowing he was going to chase after you. But that was fine because both of you were giggling and being fluffy as usual.

Thank heavens that you just wanted be a distraction.

80 notes · View notes

deathmetalunicorn1 · 1 year ago

Note

Oh ma god im back again

Hello it is cupcake berserker anon for one piece! I would like to request another with reader in the land of wano if you can please!! ( and maybe reader finding out from kaido that her axes once belonged to someone else) the mystery will unfold!! Thank you eat your carrots

I hope you like this! And I did eat my carrots, mixed with flour, sugar, and cream cheese icing lol!

-When you first arrived in Wano, after Whole Cake Island, you had never in a million years thought that you were going to be proposed to by Kaido of all people.

-You had been lying low with Sanji and Usopp, advertising for Sanji’s soba stand, as you were able to bring in the customers with your good looks, however with those looks came unwanted attention that you didn’t really want.

-Men all over Wano were asking you to marry them, viewing you as perfect, and many didn’t take your rejection well.

-That’s what got you more attention, when you pulled out your axes, ready to throw down to defend yourself, and you had been brought in to see Kaido himself, after he had seen you and wanted to meet with you.

-Your fellow crew mates were concerned for you, as they had seen how easily he had defeated Luffy, but you knew that your captain would bounce back, literally, and he would come back swinging, like normal.

-Kaido was definitely… a character- drinking barrel upon barrel of booze, trying to drown out his sorrows, and he kept going from being angry, to crying, to laughing loudly, to flirting with you, changing in a blink of an eye.

-You were confused about why he wanted to see you, as you didn’t kill anyone, yet, and you had been arrested before there was any major property damage.

-His gaze went to your axes, which you had been allowed to keep, surprisingly and you followed his gaze as he drank deeply before setting the barrel down.

-He was unnaturally calm and serious, almost like he was completely sober, “When I saw those axes again- I needed to see who had them now.”

-His words surprised you, “Again? You knew who these belonged to before me?” he nodded solemnly, not giving you any more information, he looked almost sad, looking at the axes, like he had a history with them.

-He reached his hand down to you, wanting to speak to you eye to eye and he made no mention that he was surprised when you crawled onto his hand with no fear, as you knew you could handle yourself if needed.

-You weren’t bothered from being up so high, but Kaido’s breath did reek of booze, nothing you couldn’t handle, as he spoke, “You’re that berserker on that Straw Hat brat’s crew, aren’t you?”

-You nodded with a grin, “I am- my name is Y/N!” he was silent before laughing loudly, surprising you, before he surprised you, “Marry me!”

-You just smiled gently up at him, “Forgive me, but I’m not looking to marry anyone right now. I want to keep exploring!”

-Unlike the men that brought you to him, Kaido took your rejection with more grace, booming with laughter, only slightly jostling you, “A pity- well when you are done exploring- come back and I’ll marry you!”

-You chose not to answer him, as you didn’t want to get his hopes up if you never came back and he sat you back down, “We may be enemies soon Y/N, but don’t hold back if you and I come to face each other.”

-You gave him a bright grin, “Only if you promise the same!” he boomed with laughter again and you were released, returning to Sanji and Usopp who rushed to you, worried but you just grinned brightly, “I’m fine- nothing I couldn’t handle! And I got a possibility for a good fight later!”

-Usopp couldn’t help but laugh, as he knew that you did like your fights as you went with them to meet up with the others, planning the next move against Kaido.

#one piece #sanji #usopp #kaido

87 notes · View notes

misunhye · 10 months ago

Text

Stay Soft, Get Eaten

characters kang sunhye (misun), kang sumin … brief appearances of nct dream, very brief mentions of misun’s family

words 2.3k

warnings physical abuse (cigarette burn), gaslighting, love bombing? brief mention of sexual favors

A burnt child love the fire.

“‘Mom’ is calling,” Siri announces to the practice room.

Misun’s head doesn’t lift until Renjun nudges her in the arm, not expecting it to be her mother calling her. She looks around as Siri repeats the notification, everyone looking back at her. She hesitates, eyes darting to find Jaemin before she realizes. Right. He’s at home, resting. When he should be here, a voice bitterly reminds her. She swallows roughly, mouth feeling dry as she looks towards the choreographer who nods shortly, and she stands up, hurriedly answering the phone before it could end. She feels the heavy stares of the boys on her back as she steps into the corner. She’d rather leave, but she feels it’s too disrespectful.

“Hello?” Misun answers as the others busy themselves to give her privacy. She’s surprised her mother is calling her at … She pulls the phone from her ear to check the time. Nine in the morning. She probably hasn’t even gone to sleep yet. But she’s hopeful that maybe she’s calling for a good thing— something happy. “What’s wrong?”

“Why do you always assume something is wrong when I call you?” is her mother’s instant scoff, making Misun’s lips press together tightly at how she’s starting already. Not even thirty seconds into the call. She catches herself before she can sigh out loud. That’d set her off even more.

“I don’t know,” is all she can offer pathetically. No matter how much she wants to bite back, she can’t. She wants to stand up to her, but she can’t. She always feels sorry for both her mother and herself aftwards. She shuffles in her spot, neck hunched over as she stares down at her shoes. She can almost feel her mother’s piercing stare through the phone. It makes her feel ashamed. She then says, “I’m sorry.”

Her mother hums, “OK. Now, the reason I was calling you … Oh, right! Have you gone on Naver? There’s a lot of posts about you on there. Oh, isn’t this exciting?” Her mother gushes, words slurring. Misun does sigh out loud this time. Her mother doesn’t catch it. “My baby’s famous, just like her mother! Guess it does run in the family, huh.”

Just like the rest of the family, Misun wants to correct her. Not just her.

“What does it say?” Misun asks instead, knowing that the truth wouldn’t be good for her. She’s already been told by everyone she knew to not go on social media. She’s done alright on only going on her phone to text and call people, even deleting her social media apps. But she can’t help but want to kill the curiosity.

Her mother is glad to tell her, “Oh, just that I paid your way into SM. Can you believe that? They think I’m rich enough to pay SM! Isn’t that amazing?” Her mother proceeds to go on and on about something that Misun can only pretend to listen to, but the choreographer is staring at her from the corner of his eye and she’s starting to feel squeamish.

“Mom,” she starts off, trying to cut her off so she’ll let her talk, but she doesn’t, still babbling about how some guy offered her a slushie from 7-11 for a— “What? Mom, please tell me you said no.” Her brain shortcuts, completely forgetting her previous intention. It’s only now that Misun realizes her mom isn’t sober. She wishes this was the first time.

“It was a really good slushie,” her mother giggles like a little girl.

Mortified, she looks back to everyone else, hoping they couldn’t hear any of that, “For your sake, and mine, I hope you’re joking. I’m in the middle of practice, I’ll call you back later.” No, she won’t.

“Oh, practice! Wow. I remember dance practice, eyes were on me all the time, everyone in sync with m—”

Misun quickly ends the call at another side-eye from both the choreographer and her manager, “I’m sorry,” she bows deeply to both of them, “Sorry.” She turns her ringer off and throws it in the direction of their bags and jackets.

She’s not too worried about her mother being upset she hung up, she knows she’ll only realize it in ten minutes when she finally stops to take a breath.

Misun didn’t know why she still tried. Her brothers have long given up, way before her parents even got a divorce. Her dad would rather drop dead than crawl back to her mother. Her grandmother has certainly given up, but not her grandfather— no, he has a heart too big for his soul to keep. They’re the only ones who still try.

She quickly gathered her things, hoping that no one recognized her in the cafe, even with her hoodie and face mask on. She threw her full coffee cup in the trash, walking out the cafe as normal as possible, not wanting to attract any attention.

As soon as she got across to the other street where the subway is, she stubbornly wiped her eyes. She doesn’t even like coffee.

It’s a week later when there’s a knock on the front door when she’s in the living room, waiting for some of the others to come back with Jisung and Jeno in their rooms. She looks back and forth between the front door and Jeno’s room, waiting for someone to yell out that it was one of the boys. No one did. She hesitantly pushes herself off the couch, looking into the peep hole and sighing once she realizes who was standing at the door— her mother was dressed properly, wearing a nice purple dress and a blazer with heels Misun was sure she’d trip if she ever wore. Her tired eyes are a sign that she’s slowly coming down from a high.

That is how she’s in this position, right now.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” her mother is squeezing her so tightly in her arms she thinks she’s about to pass out from lack of oxygen. She pats her mom on the back, each smack getting harder until she lets her go. “Oh, sorry.”

Misun sighs, casting a look back to the hallway nervously. She really doesn’t want any of her members to come back and see her mom, not wanting to have to deal with it after. All of them except Renjun and Chenle have met her already, of course, never on purpose. She doesn’t really talk about her family to them, always talking about her brother, Jaesuk. It’s never “my mom, my dad,” it’s always, “My brother, Jaesuk.” They just assumed they were really close.

“What are you doing here, mom?” She remembers to phrase her question correctly, hoping it wouldn’t set her off or anything.

“I realized I completely forgot about our little coffee date the other day!” Her mother sighs, cupping her cheek in her hand before squeezing roughly, making her wince in pain. She didn’t mean it, though. “How could I forget about my gorgeous daughter? Ugh! My mind, you know, it completely escapes me sometimes, baby. I’m sorry.”

Grasping at her mother’s hand, she pushes it off lightly, “Right. Yeah, it’s OK, mom. We can always reschedule.” So you can forget about that one, too, Misun remarks to herself.

“Oh, alright, but seriously, you must’ve been so disappointed waiting for me,” her mother pouts and Misun refrains from making a face at her. She’s far too old now for all of that. “Next time I ever do something like that, pinch me! Throw something at me, I don’t know.”

Misun doesn’t know how to respond to that, so she kind of stares at her dumbly and blinks. “OK. Um. I’m good, kinda used to it so, no worries there. Uh,” she wants to die. This is so awkward. What does she say? “Do you want something to eat?” It’s only after she says it does she realize they have no food and Jaemin, Renjun, and Chenle are at the store for that very reason. She hopes she says no.

“Wha—what do you mean?” Her mother seems so genuinely confused, stopping her from standing up. “Used to it?”

Misun avoids her eyes, huffing lightly as she looks around the living room. She wishes she knew she was coming, she’d have cleaned up. She wishes she had a sixth sense about her mother in general. That would’ve helped. “Like, it’s happened before, you know …” She should stop talking. Definitely stop talking right now. But she wants to talk about it. How will she ever ‘work through her problems’ like SM’s counselor (who she was sure wasn’t a licensed counselor) said?

“I mean, don’t you remember?” Misun asks before she can think too much more about it, and her mother’s silence makes her second guess herself. “I—I just …” She sighs, staring down at her feet, “My twelfth birthday? It was my first birthday as a trainee and … my friends wanted me to bring them home so they could meet you. But I didn’t want them to because …” She stops. “You remember, right?”

“What are you talking about?” Her mother’s voice is different, now calm and collected. It makes her even more nervous. She still doesn’t look at her. Sometimes, she swears her stare that could turn you to stone. “I have no idea what you're saying.”

“I didn’t bring them home, I just told them I’d have you come to the company. And you know what, when I walked home after practice, I started to actually get really excited about it the more I thought about it, ‘cause it was one of those times when you were the ‘you’ that came home and acted like an actual mom,” she laughs nervously, playing with a string from her jeans. “I thought, maybe if I’m extra nice and sweet when I get home, she’ll come. I came home, I asked, you said yes with this big smile on your face and I thought I must be doing a good thing— making you happy.” She manages to get through it without stuttering or pausing to take a breath. She wants to look up, but she’s scared. “I told them that you said you’d come during one of our breaks. I waited, each break, staring at that door … You never walked in.” She can feel her nose begin to sting as her vision gets blurry. She sucks in a breath, almost hiccuping but she quickly calms her breath doing, making a harsh sound. “I just … it’s not the first time, mom.”

She can hear her rummaging in her purse and Misun can already feel her head starting to throb. There’s the flick of a lighter and Misun closes her eyes in regret. Why couldn’t she just keep quiet? She should’ve never brought it up. This was on her.

She sniffs, smelling the smoke first before hearing her mother take a slow drag. Three seconds later, she lets go and coughs lightly.

“I always knew you had an imaginative mind,” Sumin nods to herself, a faraway look in her eyes. “But I never imagined it’d take you this far, Sunhye.” Misun blinks rapidly, trying to prepare herself for what comes next— what always comes next. “I am your mother, I gave you life, I raised you, I love and support you …”

“Mom,” she grabs her knee lightly, “Please. Some members are still here. Don’t …” She stops herself before she can make it any worse. It happened, didn’t it? She knows it did.

No matter what Misun says or does, her mother always take it in the worst way.

“I would never hurt you,” her mother sighs. And she genuinely believes her words. That stabs even deeper than any knife could. “Nothing like that ever happened, baby. You must’ve seen it in a show or something.”

“No, I—I,” she shakes her head, brows furrowing, distinctly remembering it. She swallowed, trying to rack her brain for someone who could prove it. But who would remember something like that? The tree would.

The heat of the cigarette’s cherry gets a taste of her skin, and she jerkily tries pulling away, but her mother grabs her hand and forces it to her knee. Her grip is like steel, and Misun just can’t fathom how strong she is, even as she loses weight. The familiar smell of burning flesh flows through the air and she uses all her body’s weight to throw herself to the opposite side of the couch.

She clutches her stinging hand, cradling it to her chest like a baby. Tears brim at her eyes, and she tries her hardest to not let them fall. This was her mother’s favorite way to ‘teach her a lesson’, but it’s also the one she’s done the least. Maybe only five or six times before. Never long enough to leave a scar, but long enough to hurt.

Her eyes closed tightly, ducking her head as her mother put her cigarette back in its pack. She gets up, bends down and presses a kiss to her head softly. “I love you, Sunny.” She taps her lovingly with her finger on her head, meant to be teasing and a familiar comforting feeling. It just made her shiver in disgust and fear. If her mother noticed, she didn’t say anything. She doubted she did.

When the rest of the boys return, and Jeno and Jisung stagger out of their rooms with sleep in their eyes, Misun’s curled up on the recliner in the corner of the living room, a blanket covering her body. Her hand is now covered in a bandage and still stings, but she’s hoping the Tylenol she took will kick in soon.

Renjun’s nose scrunches up in disgust as he puts the groceries on the floor, narrowly avoiding Jisung in the crowded kitchen that is much too small for five growing children. “Who was smoking?”

Misun never learns.

55 notes · View notes

vladajwrites · 2 years ago

Text

Razor’s Edge

Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven

Summary; Reader moves to Woodsboro for her senior year of high school. This story take place in the setting of the Scream 4 movie. This story is dedicated to all of the girls living through the current Rory Culkin revival. I love and see you. <3

Also available to be read on AO3 here

It's imperative for me to mention MAJOR trigger warnings for this story; blood, violence, sexual content, alcohol usage, and mentions of abusive situations and suicide. I will add and edit tw's as needed.

WC; 5499

Notes; no major notes for this chapter! hope you enjoy reading <3 much much love!!

(Not Beta Read)

You woke the next morning to about a dozen missed calls and text messages.

You sat up instantly, wiping the sleep from your eyes. Kirby had texted you nearly 10 times on her own.

“Are you okay?” “Please let me know if you’re safe.”

Your eyes widened as you scanned through her messages. She must have heard about the fight, you felt absolutely terrible, truly hoped it didn’t ruin the rest of the party.

You even had a text message from Jill. Hers held a surprising sentiment to Kirby’s original one.

You found that you also had a missed call from Charlie. He was the first one you decided to respond to. Maybe he could shed some light onto what was unfolding.

The phone rang a few times before Charlie picked up the other line.

“Are you feeling okay today?” Charlie spoke, his voice broke a bit at his words.

“I’m okay. How are you feeling?” You responded, nodding to yourself.

“I could be far worse, he hardly had the chance to touch me.”

“Well, that’s good then.” You responded softly.

The line was silent for a moment.

“Have you heard the news?” Charlie asked. News? Oh God, you hoped he wasn’t in any trouble.

“No, what’s going on Charlie?” You picked at your lip, anxiously waiting for a response. Your head was pounding, you weren’t sure if your nerves, or the alcohol from the night before, were making you so completely sick to your stomach.

Charlie stumbled over his own words for a moment before giving you a proper answer.

“This morning… The police found two students dead. Everyone is saying they were murdered.” He spoke just loud enough to be heard.

You choked back your own shock. Nothing could’ve prepared you for this sort of news. How was this possible? Did you know the students? The thought made your heart sink.

“Do they know-?” You began.

“No, they haven’t released much information. I don’t think they have any suspects yet, too soon to tell.” Charlie was quick to cut you off.

You sighed. The news of this was quick to sober you from your impending hangover.

You spoke a bit more, only briefly, before ending the call.

Irina found you in your bedroom a few moments later, relaying the same information.

“I’m supposed to leave for another work seminar on Monday and wouldn’t be returning until the following week. But I’m not going, I can’t leave you here…” Her words trailed off a bit at the end. She was nervously picking at a loose thread on your duvet cover, something she never did.

You reached up carefully to her hand, urging her to face you again. “No, go. Please, I’ll be okay. I promise.”

“It’s all just so much like times before,” you could see the tears well in her eyes. You immediately knew what she was speaking about. This possibility that this was all connected to the murders that had taken place in Woodboro in 1996 had already crossed your mind. You refused to let yourself dwell on it.

“Go, I’ll be okay. We don’t know anything for certain yet.” You tried your best to reassure her. You secretly wished she’d stay, but you didn’t want this to interfere with anything pertaining to her career.

“Okay,” she nodded, standing up. She stopped in your doorway, turning to face you one more time. “Just, if things get worse in any way. I’ll come home. I promise.”

“Okay.” You replied softly.

You made sure to keep your doors and windows locked that night before bed.

You said your goodbyes to Irina that Monday morning before school, reassuring her that things would be okay.

You arrived at school, welcomed by a bleak sight unfolding in front of you.

News vans were parked as close to the curb as they could be. Students stood around the entrance of the building with sullen and grim expressions. It was horrible, truly a terrible sight.

You wished you could’ve just sat back in your car and made the decision to drive home, lock yourself in your house and bedroom. You had to press on though.

You did your very best to pull your emotions together, keep it all inside for the time being. You pushed your way through news crews and hoards of students, careful to avoid the path of any cameras.

“This all happened the day Sidney Prescott decided to return to Woodsboro.” You heard one of the female newscasters speak behind you.

The pit in your stomach grew at her words.

How could this all be happening? Were you safe? Would Charlie or Kirby be safe? The dread was quick to consume you.

You sat quickly in your first period class, nudging Jill to turn and face you.

“Thank you for checking in on me.” You stated.

She turned to face you sharply, looking you over. “Well Sidney Prescott is my aunt, you know? Of course I’d be worried about anyone close to me.”

You were taken back a bit by her answer. Close to her? You never believed you were, to be completely honest. It still meant something to you though, that she believed you were. You were also surprised to find out that Sidney was her aunt, you hadn’t made that connection before.You couldn’t imagine what she must be feeling during all of this.

“Oh, I truly hope that you and your aunt are able to stay safe.” You answered as earnestly as possible.

She gave you a half smile, giving you a once over again before turning to rejoin her conversation with Kirby.

This was all too inconceivable, too terrible.

You just wanted Charlie, counted the minutes until you knew you’d see him again. You’d be safe with him.

As the clock ran on, more speculation and details came to light. The two girls who were murdered were named Marnie Cooper and Jenny Randall. Your heart sunk impossibly lower as you realized you knew both girls, even if only in passing in the classes you shared.

They were both stabbed, brutally murdered.

It grew increasingly difficult to not connect their murders to previous patterns of torment that plagued Woodsboro’s history.

You stared mindlessly out the window, watching the newscasters gather again outside. You almost entirely missed the bell that rang, releasing students for lunch.

The dread was eating you up from the inside out. Would Charlie be okay? Kirby and Irina? Would you?

How could you possibly know? What could you possibly do?

You had nowhere to run, nowhere to go. You were quick to decide you’d never flee, even if the option were present. You could never bring yourself to leave your loved ones behind.

Your body worked itself up and onward, moving you through muscle memory out towards the exit of the building. Your mind was somewhere, off very far away.

A hand slid across your back to rest on your shoulder. The sudden touch made you jump.

You snapped your head to the left sharply. You were met by Charlie. He was walking along with you, saying something to Robbie who was on the other side of him. You hadn’t even noticed them near you.

“You scared me, Charlie.” You huffed, exhaling the breath that you seemed to have been holding since learning the news that morning.

Charlie turned to look at you then, his expression fell for a second as his eyes darted across your face.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He replied sincerely. His hand slipped from your shoulder for a moment. You were quick to grab his wrist, letting him wrap around you again.

You tried your best to relax your expression a bit more. “Just on edge, it’s okay. I should’ve been paying better attention.”

He studied you for another moment before nodding, pulling you closer into him.

Robbie cleared his throat awkwardly. You and Charlie both turned back to face him after seemingly forgetting there was a third party still nearby.

Your lips twitched upwards into a half smile as you took in the sight of the clunky glasses Robbie now wore.

“New glasses?” You asked, gesturing up at Robbie.

He nodded in response. His hands fumbled around a bit as he took them off and handed them over to you to examine.

You flipped them around, noticing a small camera attached awkwardly to one of the frames.

Robbie mumbled out an explanation for the new gadget. “…and if these murders are connected to the original Stab murders, I want to be the one to catch any real life footage. Ya’ know? Make my own movie.”

You could feel Charlie instantly stiffen up and roll his shoulders back beside you.

Your expression dropped as you handed the glasses back over.

“That’s morbid Robbie.” You replied, shaking your head.

Before he could respond, you felt your phone ring in your back pocket. You pulled it out, looking over the caller ID. Irina’s name flashed on the screen. She was surely just calling to let you know she’d made it to her destination and to check up on you again.

You excused yourself from the group, telling Charlie you’d see him back in class.

The rest of your lunch break passed by as well as it could have after your quick conversation with Irina. You did your best to avoid the spectacle in front of and around the school. It was more difficult to ignore the whispers and constant conversations passed between students about the killings.

In your last period class an announcement played over the speakers. “All extracurricular activities will be disbanded after school today.” The statement was repeated once more before going off the air.

You sighed, sinking further in your seat. There’d be no film club after class today. You peaked slightly behind you to try and catch Charlie’s attention. He was intently scribbling what appeared to be a mess of things on a loose piece of lined paper.

You hadn’t truly realized until that moment just how badly you didn’t want to have to go home and be all alone.

You reached for your phone, composing a text message to Charlie under your desk. “Come over later?”

You sent the message, setting the phone down in your lap.

A loud text tone ringer sounded in the nearly silent classroom. All heads turned to face Charlie who was now fumbling with his phone to switch off the source of the sound.

“Walker, phones on silent please.” The teacher spoke sternly from behind their desk.

You snapped your head back forward, biting back a smile.

A few moments later you felt your phone buzz silently in your lap.

“Yeah, 5pm?” Charlie’s message read.

“Works for me. Sorry about the noise.” You replied.

“Swear you must’ve done it on purpose.” He responded.

You turned back slightly to face him. He had a small smile across his lips as he looked you over.

You smiled back, melting a bit into your seat.

The rest of the school day wrapped up shortly after.

As you returned home, you double and triple checked that your windows and doors were locked. It was only a short amount of time before 5pm. You rushed downstairs once you heard a knock on the door.

Charlie stood on the porch, one hand in his pocket the other was held down casually at his side.

“Come on.” You smiled, motioning him through the door.

Once up in your bedroom you held out your arms to him. He returned the gesture, holding you close against himself.

You inhaled deeply, taking in the familiar scent of him. You walked backwards carefully until you hit your bed frame, you both promptly fell back into bed.

“Thank you for coming over.” You said softly, fixing yourself on his chest.

He kissed the top of your head, “Of course, thank you for having me over.”

You hummed and nodded, playfully reaching over him for the television remote. He picked it up off your nightstand and handed it to you.

You scrolled through the cable channels until landing on daytime production of the original Halloween. You didn’t mind that it had already played halfway through. You had seen the movie twice in its entirety by now.

It was nice and quiet for a few moments. Neither of you really paid any attention to what was being played on the television. It was time to decompress. If even just for a moment, you were able to set aside the horrible thoughts that had been racing through your mind during the entirety of the day.

You had exchanged small talk and conversations about the movie as it played through. It wasn’t until the end credits rolled that you sat up and fixed yourself in bed. The sun had long begun to set. You felt wracked with exhaustion, your mind was beginning to run all over again.

You tried to hold back a yawn when Charlie spoke up.

“Hey, I can leave, let you get some sleep.” He spoke softly, sitting up beside you.

You fervently shook your head no. “No, please don’t go. I don’t want to be alone.” Your lips twitched downward.

He studied your face for a moment, not wanting to overstep. He hadn't spent the night with you since the first time you were alone with him. But, the thought of spending the night completely alone terrified you. You felt the current situation extenuated the circumstances.

He sucked in a breath, nodding. “Of course.” He promptly adjusted himself so that you could lay back down on his chest.

He mindlessly ran his fingers over your face and through your hair as you spoke to him.

“I’m terrified, Charlie.” You said just above a whisper.

“Don’t be, doll.” He replied earnestly.

“How could I not be?” You continued. “I’m so scared. What if something were to happen to you or me? And beyond the murders… What happens with Anderson when he returns to school? As if we didn’t already have so much to worry about…”

Charlie halted his movements. You looked up at him, something was so clearly troubling him. You knew he couldn’t really secure yours or his own safety. Still, just having the reassurance from him meant the world to you.

He composed himself again. “I promise you, I’ll take care of it.” He responded, holding out his pinky to swear.

You returned his smile, pulling on your bravest front as well before returning the gesture, hooking your pinky finger within his own.

That night was spent safely and soundly in his arms amidst a mess of heavy limbs and blankets. Your bedroom window was opened a fraction of the way, allowing the early fall breeze into your room.

There was nowhere safer to you than with him by your side. You couldn’t explain it, it was just an intimate and visceral feeling.

The next night was spent that way as well. The following school day had happened about the same way the last had gone by. There was an unsteady and nervous blanket that had covered the town of Woodsboro and you were not immune to the impending feeling of dread. Still no suspects, only very minimal details were slowly released.

Anderson had also still not shown his face that entire Tuesday. You had hated yourself for even looking for him in the crowded hallways at school but you just couldn’t help it. You wished that whatever confrontation that was sure to come from him would just be over with and done already.

It wasn’t until the next day on Wednesday when he finally showed face. He was badly bruised, poorly attempting to conceal a large black eye. You noticed him first while passing between your first and second period. He noticed you shortly after. Your breath caught in your through as your eyes connected. He held such malcontent and anger in his expression. It made your skin absolutely crawl.

You made sure to stay in extra close proximity to Charlie that day.

When Charlie arrived after school at your home for the third day in a row, you made sure to tell him about your interaction with Scotty.

“Did he say anything to you?” Charlie asked.

“No, no. He just looked at me. But,” You shook your head, your face falling towards the ground.

Charlie reached a hand over on your thigh, waiting patiently for you to continue.

“I don’t know. It’s silly to even be worried about it. It’s just, there’s so much going on.” You continued, looking up to meet his eyes again.

Charlie wrapped you gently in his arms, kissing the top of your head.

“It will be alright,” He replied. “I love you.”

You smiled then, nodding. “I love you, too.”

As the sun began to set, you slowly became more sure of yourself. There was no point in worrying so much about things that were entirely out of your control. You had a much welcomed distraction in front of you to keep the thoughts at bay.

It was a bit past 7pm, you were growing hungry and restless.

“Would you like to come downstairs while I make dinner?” You asked, looking over at Charlie.

“Yeah, of course.” He answered.

You climbed over him out of bed, making the split decision to change into something more comfortable.

You threw on an oversized shirt and slid out of the pants you wore leaving you in nothing but your panties underneath. You took careful and slow actions in your movements, taking time to show your body as innocently as you could as you heard Charlie clear his throat and stand up behind you.

You motioned over your shoulder at him to follow you downstairs, his eyes drifted over your legs and upwards to meet your gaze.

You still found his shyness endearing. After all this time, you could still make him squirm so easily.

Dinner was prepared quickly, something simple you had learned to make from your aunt.

There was a labored silence that swept through the kitchen and dining room as you let him help you prepare the meal. You stole touches and long glances when you could, he did the same.

By the time you had both sat down to eat, a familiar tension had set in between the two of you.

You sat closely to him, kicking your feet up into his lap. He sucked in a sharp breath, nearly dropping his fork onto the table as you adjusted yourself into a more comfortable position.

It was so simple, yet entirely perfect. You imagined you’d be happy like this, doing this same thing over and over again with him.

By the time you had cleared the table and gotten the kitchen back in order with his help, a knot in your stomach had begun to grow.

Something about seeing him in such a domesticated position made your heart swell and your internal temperature rise.

You got ready for bed quickly, he followed suit.

As you changed the record over on your player, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to that first night you had spent with him alone.

There wouldn’t be a better distraction, a better way to relieve the stress from the past few days, than with his hands against your body. You could give yourself this. Besides, it was hard to not notice the way he had grown more handsy with you in his sleep.

You heard him kick out of his jeans and undress down to his boxers, wearing what he usually wore to bed.

You knew he wouldn’t initiate anything, knew he was too nervous to try. But if you just have him a push-

You dropped the needle onto the record before turning to face him. He was already in bed, the duvet was pulled up just past his waist. He had a smile on his face that met his eyes, his hand was held out to you to help you into bed.

He just looked so stunning like this.

You inhaled deeply, reaching out your hand to him. You carefully climbed into bed, halting your movements once you were straddling his waist.

His eyes widened a bit as he tried to make out the intentions behind your expression.

You steadied yourself, hooking your fingers under the hem of your shirt before promptly pulling it over your head and dropping it down onto the floor.

“Fuck…” He murmured. His eyes traced over the frame of your body as his hands carefully slid up the curves of your waist.

The heat of his hands and the calluses that laced through his palms and fingers made you shiver under his touch.

You dropped your head down, moving your hair behind your ears as his hands cupped around your breasts.

You met his lips harshly, letting your hands rest on either side of his shoulders.

He doubled your neediness, bucking up his hips and kicking down the duvet until you rested flush against the growing bulge of his boxers.

You rolled your hips back, drinking in the whimpering mess that fell from his lips.

You pulled back slightly, pouting your lips. “I want you Charlie.”

“Yeah?” He questioned, searching for your lips again.

You rolled your hips again, letting your fingers slide through his hair. “Mhm.” You replied, sucking in his bottom lip.

His eyes shut tightly before reopening, his expression was dark, nearly tearing into you.

“How bad do you want me?” His voice was rough, and strained. His right hand came up to hold around the back of your neck, willing you to look at him directly.

You smiled at him as sweetly as possible. You wanted to show him- would show him, just how badly you wanted him..

Your lips worked to kiss a steady trail down his neck and chest, making sure to stop and suck at the spots you knew he liked the most.

Your fingers carefully and slowly slid his boxers down his hips until he took over, hastily kicking out of them.

The full length of him still somehow surprised you, regardless of the clear memory you had of that first night you had seen him.

You couldn’t bring yourself to waste anymore time. You quickly took him into your hand, letting your thumb trace his tip. You collected the precum that had already begun to spill out of him.

He shuddered and groaned as you took him into your mouth, letting your hand work around the parts of him you couldn’t push down your throat.

He quickly began to fall apart, you watched him carefully as his steady breathing grew labored and uneven. The sounds that came out of him were so entirely beautiful. His chorus of praise quickened your movements. You pushed him down your throat even further until you were choking and sputtering around him.

His hips raised in an unsteady pattern. His movements only quickened as the tears and spit ran down your face.

“You look so perfect like this doll.” He sighed out. His words made your heart swell. You just wanted to do a good job for him, show him how much you loved him.

He quickly wrapped his arms around your chest and back, pulling you up and under himself so that your head rested comfortably on the pillow at your head board.

You whined in response, you hadn’t had the chance to make him finish yet.

The sudden quickness and strength of his actions caught you slightly off guard. You had no time to process it though, he was already down at your waist, sliding your panties down your hips, leaving a trail of kisses down your legs as he took them completely off.

His lips and tongue were at your entrance and against your clit in an instant. You cried out, arching your back up into him. He gripped your frame steadily, holding you down perfectly for him. His shoulders kept your legs open as wide for him as possible.

It didn’t take long until your eyes welled with tears again, you were seeing stars. The entire room spun around you.

It somehow felt so much better than the first time. You figured it was certainly because you both had to be so much more comfortable with one another.

You had nearly begun to come undone against him when his tongue slowed its movements. You could feel the fingers of his free hand slide carefully through your folds before gently pushing past your entrance.

You cried out his name, letting your hands wildly mess and pull at his hair.

He groaned as you began to shutter and tighten around him.

You felt so incredibly full, it was almost too much- too blinding. Yet, you needed more of him, it didn’t matter if it hurt you, you wanted more of him inside of you, needed him to move faster- tear through you.

As though he could read your thoughts, he slipped another finger inside of you, his tongue worked in quicker paced circles.

The additional pressure sent you crashing over the edge. The tears began to fall down your face as your legs shook uncontrollably. He didn’t stop his movements until your cum dripped down your legs and his face and you were begging him to slow down.

He sat up, making his way up the bed to kiss you again. A wide smirk was plastered across his lips.

You kissed him fervently, lapping up the taste of you against his mouth. The fire was quick to build inside of you again.

You just needed more, wanted more of him so desperately.

You were mindless, drunk on him alone.

You reached down as he held himself above you. You carefully wrapped your fingers around his cock, urging him closer.

You were ready to take the next step, needed to desperately.

He let out a sudden string of expletives, nearly dropping down onto his forearms, as you slid the head of his cock through the folds of your slick cunt.

Your eyes were wide as you looked up at him. You held an expression of innocence in your expression, you knew this all must be driving him mad.

“Are you sure?” His face looked so serious for a moment as he studied your expression.

“Yes, please Charlie. I need it.” You practically begged.

“Christ,” He hazily mumbled out as he met your lips again.

He sat back, better adjusting him in front of you. You could tell he was trying to give him a second to compose himself a bit more.

You smiled up at him, giving him an ounce more reassurance. Maybe you needed a bit more as well.

“I- I don’t have a condom.” His face fell for a second at the sudden realization.

You laughed, pulling his hands forward to rest on either side of your shoulders. You arched upwards, tracing a few kisses up his arms before dropping back into the bed.

“I’m on the pill, Charlie. It’s okay, promise.” You replied. Although you had really only started it quite recently, you were certain it must all be working by now.

He nodded, dropping down to kiss you again. He let his arm slide down to take himself in his hand. The muscles in his stomach flexed and contracted as he lined himself up at your entrance.

“I’ll go slow, princess.” He spoke just above a whisper.

You bit your lip and nodded up at him.

Time seemed to impossibly stop as he held your gaze.

You sucked in a sharp breath as he began to slowly push forward. Your mouths fell open in unison as he reached about a third of himself inside of you.

The initial pressure was nearly blinding. The string of moans and whimpers that spilled from both of your mouths fell on your nearly deaf ears.

He steadied himself, dipping his head down to carefully trail soft kisses across your jaw. He stayed that way until your labored breathing grew a bit more steady as you willed yourself to adjust around the size of him.

“More, please.” You choked out. You nodded your head as he looked you over, making sure that you were okay.

He pushed forward in the same tortuously slow pace until you could feel his waist flush against you.

“Is this okay? Are you doing okay?” He could hardly get the words out of himself.

“Mhm,” you sighed out. You relaxed your body as best you could. He rocked carefully in and out of you, helping you relax further into the bed.

The pain slowly melted away, the pressure morphed into a biting pleasure that built from deep within you. It was so different from anything you had felt before. You just needed to feel more of it, wanted him to feel just as good.

“You feel so good, so fucking wet for me.” Charlie sighed as his movements grew quicker and more drawn out.

You met his eyes, him in this state above you nearly had you ready to come undone for him again. You wanted to draw out this moment as long as you possibly could. It was perfect- entirely too perfect.

You arched yourself up into him, the new position led him to hit a different place inside of you. You cried out, nails dragging deeply up his stomach.

“Just like that, please. You’re doing so good for me.” You babbled out. Your eyes screwed back inside your head as his movements grew more erratic and sloppy.

Your praise willed him to find that same spot again. He quickly wrapped his arm around your right thigh before pulling your leg up over his shoulder.

You cried out at the new depth. You met his eyes again, your line of sight was blinded by tears. It was so beautifully painful. He was biting down hard on his pointer finger in an attempt to hold himself together. You could tell he was so incredibly close.

From this new position, Charlie was able to hit the spot you needed over and over again.

You reached around him, leaving scratches down his back that would surely welt over. Neither of you cared. Charlie reacted so well to the pain.

“Fuck, please cum for me. I can’t- I’m going to,” Charlie pleaded.

His words were the catalyst that sent you coming undone under him. The pure pleasure came from deep within you. It was more perfect than anything you had experienced before. You felt it spread within you, from the top of your head to your hands and feet that were alternating between digging into the mattress and grasping into Charlie. Every nerve ending in your body was shot at once.

Your thoughts spun as your eyes blurred further and ears rang out around you. It was only him that could anchor you back to earth.

He fucked you through your high until you were a tearful, babbling mess. The only word that could properly come from your mouth was his own name.

Your vision cleared as you watched him take his turn and fall apart in front of you. You ran your fingers up his arms as his movements stuttered and halted. You could feel the warmth spill from him inside of you. The new feeling almost sent you coming again around him. The sounds that came from him were better than any music you could wish to hear.

It was almost as if you saw the rest of your life with him at that very moment. The look in his eyes as he nearly collapsed down on top of you told you he experienced the exact same thing.

You grabbed him in your arms, kissing him along the top of his head. He lazily wrapped his arms underneath you, pulling you even closer.

You both stayed there in silence for another moment, him still deep inside of you as you pulsed and fluttered around him.

“I love you so much.” He breathed out as the air regained a steady movement in and out of you both.

You pulled his face up to meet your eyes. “I love you even more.” You replied, smiling down at him.

He huffed out a labored laugh, rolling off of you into his back.

He stood up a moment later on unsteady legs, going to grab the towel that hung in your room.

“Not possible.” He smirked as he made his way back to the bed.

He took great care in cleaning you up first before getting himself together. He threw the towel into your laundry hamper before climbing back into bed.

Your eyes felt impossibly heavier than your body as he helped pull you onto his chest.

He prayed a gentle string of praises and ‘I love you’s’ until your eyes fluttered closed and you began to drift off into a deep and much needed peaceful night of sleep.

You were safe at his side. There was truly nowhere else in the world you’d rather be.

#fanfiction #fanfic #charlie walker #charlie walker fanfic #charlie walker fanfiction #charlie walker x reader #charlie walker x y/n #scream 4 fanfic #charlie walker smut #fanfiction author #razor’s edge #rory culkin fanfic #rory culkin fanfiction

361 notes · View notes

simlit · 1 year ago

Text

Chosen of the Sun | | forest // ninety-four

| @amuhav

next / previous / beginning

KYRIE: You’re shaking. TAYUIN: I’m not. KYRIE: Will you ever stop lying? TAYUIN: I’m not! KYRIE: laughs I’m glad you made it back safe. TAYUIN: The curse is broken. It must be. KYRIE: I do feel a bit more spritely. Maybe it’s the weather. TAYUIN: Stop messing around! KYRIE: I’m sorry. I meant it. I’m glad you’re back. But Lord Tev’us and Eira— TAYUIN: They’re alright. KYRIE: Thank the stars. Tayuin, you never should have— TAYUIN: Spare me the lecture, okay? You were the bigger idiot. Why the hell would you do that? Do you care so little about yourself to die for two random strangers? KYRIE: But you’re not strangers. TAYUIN: It doesn’t matter! Don’t be so reckless! It’s selfish, too, you know! What about everyone who cares about you? KYRIE: Everyone who cares about me? It’s a shockingly low number. If I’m honest, I didn’t think anyone would mind. It’s been a surprising, if not sobering experience to learn otherwise. TAYUIN: Dumb idiot. Do you think I’d just be okay with all that guilt hanging over my head? Isn’t that what you were trying to avoid? Really you were just passing the baton to me. It’s rude and I’ll hate you for it for the rest of my life! KYRIE: Well, at least you’ll be around to do just that. Tay… You know going to see that witch was dangerous. Please tell me whatever she asked in payment for her services wasn’t too steep. TAYUIN: It wasn’t. Don’t worry about it. KYRIE: I’m worried. TAYUIN: Well, stop it! KYRIE: sighs Then, thank you. Whatever you did. I guess I owe you my life, again. I’ll have to find some way to make it up you. TAYUIN: You mean force me to get dinner again? Pass. KYRIE: Come on, was it really so bad? TAYUIN: No. I mean yes! I mean— That’s not the point! KYRIE: laughs I’m really glad you’re okay. TAYUIN: …I’m glad you are, too. KYRIE: Though, I expect you’ve put me in a different sort of trouble. TAYUIN: What do you mean? HIGH PRIESTESS: Kyrie. KYRIE: Speak of the devil. HIGH PRIESTESS: We need to speak. In private. KYRIE: Can’t imagine what for. HIGH PRIESTESS: Please. KYRIE: Fine. KYRIE: I’ll find you later, alright? TAYUIN: Alright.

#ts4 #ts4 screenshots #ts4 story #ts4 bachelor challenge #chosen of the sun #oc: kyrie loren #cc: tayuin eth'salin

59 notes · View notes

bluehoodiewoozi · 2 years ago

Text

You Changed Everything

Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi) x gn!reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Word Count: 10,6k

Wanings: some stronger language. mentions of violence, blood and injuries. it is implied that y/n was in a gang. small food and alcohol mentions.

[Series: Serenity Street 17] Two runaways meet in a bar and decide to get an apartment together to escape their worries. Their relationship has fuzzy borders from then on as they explore each other’s past and worries.

Note: a lot more angst than i’m used to writing but my bestie said the fic is just a mildly angsty house husband au, so idek.

You met him on a rainy summer evening.

Though you had put in some effort to dress up nicer than you usually would, you still looked and felt like a mess. Your drink sloshed around in the glass but you had little to no interest in it that night. If anything, it was an excuse to escape to this bar.

You barely liked the place more than you liked the people in it, but you supposed it was an improvement from your normal life. At the very least the lights were prettier there, shining gold and red.

Your thoughts drowned out any sound that echoed between the walls. Perhaps that’s why he caught you off-guard.

“I’ll have a tequila, please,” he called out to the bartender and practically fell into the seat next to yours, startling you out of your thoughts so hard that a drop of your drink fell onto your fingers.

Eyes wide, you watched this man who somehow looked worse than you did. His hair was haphazardly bleached blonde and cut, a few black pieces peeking through here and there; it was a mess from the number of times he must’ve run his hand through it.

“Rough day?” the bartender asked him while placing the tequila glass down.

The man scoffed and slumped against the counter. “It always is.”

Before he could ask anything more, the bartender was called elsewhere, leaving the two of you there alone. You couldn’t help but laugh a little – you hadn’t laughed in days – as he downed the tequila and cursed right after.

“Not much of a tequila guy?” you inquired.

His eyes widened in surprise at the sound of your voice, but a small smile appeared on his face nevertheless. “No, but I figured I should try something different.

“You don’t look like you’re in a much better place mentally,” he tried to joke without even realising how right he was. “So, what’s your tale?”

“I’m not big on sharing,” you told him that evening and took a swig of your drink, “but if you’re patient enough, you might find out.”

He smiled at your words – whether he was amused, understanding or too much of a jokester for his own good you’d never know. Then, he extended his hand. “I’m Soonyoung.”

To the surprise of both of you, a few exchanged sentences turned into hours of talking. By the time the bartender kicked you out (not before asking Soonyoung to cover the both of your bills, which he begrudgingly did) you were so far drunk and gone that you could barely stand up straight.

You rarely let yourself get to this point, afraid of letting your guard down and getting in trouble that would end with more than a slap on the wrist or a black eye. But this time you couldn’t be bothered to hold back. A new city, a new you – you repeated that to yourself every time you took a shot.

The more you talked, the more you realised the two of you were at the same point in your lives. The same chapter of a different book of a similar genre.

“Hey, here’s an idea,” you started with drunken giggles as the two of you stumbled through the streets together later that night.

Soonyoung seemed only a little more sober than you, seeing as he was the one providing most of the balance the two of you shared on your trip. Still, his face was red and he was laughing non-stop at just about anything, so maybe he just had very good balance. He nudged and prompted you, “What idea? Tell me, tell me!”

“What if we–” You burst into giggles again. “No, we couldn’t possibly.”

“We couldn’t?” he seemed almost scandalised that you would suggest something so preposterous – whatever it was you were suggesting.

“Okay, hear me out,” you eventually managed to get out when you got a break from your laughter, “your life sucks, my life sucks, we’re both new here – let’s move in together.”

He stopped in his steps, halting you with him. His eyes seemed to clear at the idea. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t have a place to stay and not enough money to cover the rent of anything alone. But together– Together we could rent an apartment, somewhere in this city.”

A smile appeared on his face and your drunk self felt a little weak at the knees at the sight. How had you stumbled upon this gorgeous specimen at all?

To your utter surprise, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder a little tighter and nodded, slurring his words a little as he answered, “That sounds wonderful. Let’s do that. Together.”

You moved into apartment 4C close to midnight only a week later. It was then that you learned that Soonyoung wasn’t particularly fond of the dark. Funnily enough, the darkness was where you felt most comfortable.

And yet, as you walked around your new home, 4C was like something out of a horror film.

The ceiling had obvious water damage. The floors were covered in dust and bits of dried mud. And the bathroom made such terrifying noises that Soonyoung had to ask you to keep watch outside the door every time he used it.

Even the guy in charge had seemed baffled in your interest in the place when he showed you the apartment two days ago. But this was all the two of you could afford.

Fortunately, there wasn’t much to carry up the stairs. You and Soonyoung only had a single bag each. You and your trusty backpack, Soonyoung and his suitcase – that was all you had.

Be the state of the furniture of the apartment as it may, at least it was there. You had a sofa, a dining table and a queen-sized bed – what more could you possibly need?

“I’ll sleep on the sofa,” you told your new roommate as the two of you looked around, exhausted from your journey. “You take the bed.”

He didn’t seem to like the idea as much as you expected him to. Instead of a grateful smile, what you received was a disapproving scowl. “No, I’ll take the sofa. You take the bed.”

You were baffled at his response. It didn’t take much to figure out that this man was used to living in luxury – he wore a button-up shirt on moving day, for crying out loud! Why would he possibly give up the bed?

“It’s fine, Soonyoung,” you insisted and prepared to settle down on the sofa. “I’ll be fine. You can spread out on the bed.” You felt a little jealous of him, really.

“But that’s not very fair,” he said and pulled you back up just as you managed to lie down. Before you could protest, he took your place and melted into the cushions. “You go sleep in the bed and tomorrow we can– Ow!”

He sat up as fast as he lied down and glared at the sofa before lifting his hand to inspect it. A bloody scratch stood in his palm, thin and painful – you thought it a warning.

“That’s it,” you sighed and pulled him up just like had done for you just moments ago, “we’re both sleeping on the bed. At least it has a new mattress.”

Soonyoung grumbled under his breath as he realised that he couldn’t be the perfect gentleman this time. Not with this cut in his hand.

“Really,” he cursed under his breath and glared at the scratch while blindly following after you by the hold you had on his sleeve, “who even gets injured by a sofa?”

“You, apparently,” you told him with a scoff before pushing him to sit on the bed.

You turned on the single light in the room and found that the bed was a little smaller than you had thought. Still, you brought this upon yourself, so with another sigh, you picked up your backpack and rummaged through it.

“What are you looking for?”

“The first-aid kit.”

“Why do you have a first-aid kit in there?”

“Because of you, it seems,” you bit back before victoriously digging the item out and throwing it on the bed. “There, clean that scratch. God knows what that couch has seen. I don’t want to nurse you back to health from the dead.”

“Aw, you care,” he giggled as he looked through the little red bag.

You rolled your eyes and shrugged off your leather jacket. “No. I just don’t have the money to pay this rent alone.”

“That’s what they all say,” he joked before thanking you nonetheless.

While he cleaned and dressed his wound, you took it upon yourself to make the bed. The owner had been kind enough to get you a brand new mattress, two blankets and three pillows as well as some bed sheets. You hoped they’d be as comfortable to sleep on as they looked.

Once the bed was made and you lied under the covers, the situation sank in. You were finally independent and free and you hadn’t had to do anything really illegal to achieve any of this. All it had taken was a friend.

Said friend grumbled on the other side of the bed. “Why is it so cold here?”

“The landlord said the heating would take some time to start,” you reminded him softly and tried to get comfortable with the idea of sharing the bed, as big or small as it was. “Just pull the blankets around yourself a little tighter, Soonyoung.”

Silence filled the room. Too loud to let you sleep just yet. When you let out a defeated sigh, Soonyoung spoke up again, “I don’t want to seem rude or needy or anything but–”

“What is it?” you mumbled and turned to face him.

“Can I hold you?” he whispered after a hesitant pause before ranting on, “I’m sorry. I just can’t sleep unless I hold something and it’s cold and you’re here anyway, so I just thought–”

To this day you don’t know what came over you that night. You didn’t let him finish his sentence before you wrapped yourself around his frame. Your arms comfortably rested around his torso, your head on his chest. You could hear his breath hitch and his heartbeat pick up before his arm wrapped around your body.

“Better?” you mumbled into his chest, thankful that it was too dark to see. It made it easier to forget you were actually cuddling a real human-being and not a giant pillow.

Soonyoung sighed softly, relieved and happy, before humming. “Better. Good night. Sleep well.”

You didn’t get the chance to reply – you had never fallen asleep faster.

Your apartment felt empty still even after three whole days. It felt less like a home and more like a shell. And yet you hadn’t felt so comfortable in years. A little worn-down, lacking a lot of the essentials, but free and, most importantly, safe from your past.

“It’ll feel more like home eventually,” Soonyoung whispered as he sat next to you on the small torn couch, his side pressing against yours. You felt his gaze on you, his voice impossibly small as he added on, “Right?”

You were still hesitant as well. Without much thought, you leaned into the comfort his warmth offered and rested against your head on his shoulder. It scared you how quickly you had grown used to his presence and affection and – worst of all – how fast you had started to reciprocate.

“The sunrise is beautiful,” you whispered back instead of answering his question, eyes still stuck on the view out of your living room window. A nice big window with a beautiful view towards the river – just like you’d always dreamed.

Soonyoung chuckled and rested his head against yours. “It’ll only become more beautiful the longer we stay here, I’m sure. We came all this way to see it.”

And come a long way you had, from the cold and unforgiving streets of the city. You could only hope this would be the turning point of your life and you could now finally forget your past.

“Do you think we could get a pet?” he then asked you. “I think a dog could make this place more lively.”

“No,” you told him before you could even fully comprehend and contemplate. You had always wanted a dog, or a cat. But old habits die hard.

He pouted. “But why?”

“Just because.”

“Because…?” he attempted to get an answer out of you, eyes shining hopefully.

You bit your tongue despite the excuses threatening to come out one by one: “because we can’t afford one”, “because I don’t trust myself to care for another being”, “because what if my past catches up with me?”. You held your mouth shut and just shook your head instead of voicing any of those reasons.

“Fine,” he groaned in defeat. “But I will win one day and you won’t be able to deny my request any longer.”

A part of you doubted you’d even stay in his life long enough to see that day. But the other part of you was just as hopeful as he was, if not more, and eagerly awaited that day.

“Can we at least decorate this place?” he then wondered, already eyeing places for trinkets and flower pots. “It’s so cold and empty.”

“Decorate?” You wanted to laugh. “You and what money? We need to find jobs first.”

With an offended scoff, he sat up and glared at you before starting, “I’ll have you know that I have–” and just like that he trailed off and shut up.

“Right,” he eventually mumbled and reached up to run a hand through his hair, “we’re poor.”

That word could barely even cover your situation. You had been lucky to get anything more than a house-shaped cardboard box for the cash the two of you scratched up just a week ago. It had taken some busking on his part (something you found he was decently good at) and a secret threat to a random guy in the streets on your part (something you knew you were very good at). The apartment was barely up to the standards of any person and yet here you sat.

The only places you had managed to clean so far were the bathroom, the one usable bedroom, and the living room window. This place was a complete mess but now it was your mess and, despite its many shortcomings, you were proud of it.

“Maybe we could clean the kitchen tomorrow,” you suggested after a pause.

Soonyoung grinned at the idea. “Yeah, it would be nice to finally have some homemade food.”

“When was the last time you had any?”

He frowned in thought and began counting, his lips moving without a sound as he did so. Eventually he said, “About a year ago? Back when I lived with my parents. Mother used to cook the most delicious bulgogi and my grandmother’s kimchi was out of this world–”

As you listened to him reminiscing, it hit you that you couldn’t remember the last time you saw your parents. You could barely even recall their faces. It had been far more than a year.

Soonyoung’s voice suddenly faded into silence. You didn’t even realise because you were so lost in your daze – in an attempt to recall your mother’s smile or your father’s voice, or anything really. Why was there nothing you could fully remember about them? Had you really already worn those bright memory photos down to blurry smudges?

The walk down memory lane came to an abrupt stop when you felt the warmth of a hand against your cheek.

As he gently wiped your face, Soonyoung spoke in a voice that seemed almost impossibly soft, “Why are you crying?”

“I–” You hadn’t even realised you were crying, but indeed, tears were rolling down your cheeks and your breathing was heavier than before. You had walked a little too far into your memory. “Sorry, I don’t know what–”

“Don’t apologise,” he interrupted and carefully pulled you into his embrace. “You never have to apologise to me.”

“Life will get better soon,” he added after a moment of letting you cry into his shoulder. “Let’s just hang on a little longer. We have this entire place to fix up and decorate.”

You sighed. “We’ll have to find jobs first.”

“I’m sure we can manage that. Together.” He offered the most endearing smile, one so full of hope that your frozen heart swelled at the sight. “After all, everybody else has jobs. How hard can it really be?”

It was only a week later that Soonyoung burst into the apartment with a wide bright smile and papers in hand. He immediately located you on the sofa and practically threw himself at you.

“Guess what!”

You blinked at him slowly before softly sighing and asking, “What?”

“No, you’re supposed to guess,” Soonyoung whined and squished your cheeks together for his own amusement. “So, guess.”

Taking a deep breath, you pushed his hand away so you could speak. “You saw a cute dog?”

He paused. “Actually, yes, I did that too.”

“Really?” You hadn’t expected it to be true, honestly.

“Yeah, the guy living across the hall has this fluffy white dog,” he told you, almost getting distracted already. Almost. “But that’s not it. I have far more important news.”

“What news?”

This time he just about stomped his feet and glared at you in disappointment. “I said you’re supposed to guess.”

“Why did I agree to move in with you?” you wondered under your breath before clearing your throat. “Okay, fine. Did you get free food?”

“Man, that would’ve been nice,” he breathed out – and you felt a little disappointed as well because you could only eat so much instant ramen before it became too much – but he still shook his head. “One more chance.”

“You… Yeah, I have no idea.”

“You’re no fun,” he pouted only briefly before a bright smile took over and held the papers out for you to read. “I got us a job.”

Your eyes widened and you sat up immediately, grabbing the papers to inspect them. “You got a job?”

“For us both,” he beamed and awaited praise, much like a little puppy. “How is it? Didn’t I do good?”

Unfortunately for him, you were too baffled to give him the compliments and head pats he so deserved. “How?”

Though he was clearly a little let down by the lack of praises, he still smiled brightly as he proudly recounted the tale. “I ran into one of the girls who lives in this building – Mina, or something like that – and she said that her parents need help with their shop and she remembered that we were new in the city, so she set us up. They want to meet us the day after tomorrow for our first day at their shop.”

“A shop?” You supposed it was better than joining another streetgang for quick dirty money. At least this sounded legal. “What do they sell there?”

Soonyoung squinted in thought, eyeing a random spot on the wall as he tried to sound out what he remembered. “I think it was a bookstore? Or a bar that has books? Or a–” He sighed in defeat. “Something to do with books.”

“I like books.”

“I don’t, but I’m willing to take anything at this point,” he breathed out and leaned back against the sofa. He let out a groan of pain barely a second later and sat back up to stare at the very spot he had just leaned against. “I don’t care what you say: I’m blowing my first paycheck on a new sofa.”

You laughed at that and he practically lit up at the sound, eyes bright as he watched you. Despite feeling shy under his gaze, you couldn’t help but elaborate on your amusement: “You do know how much a sofa costs?”

“Absolutely not,” he admitted without any shame, “but it can’t cost more than our future health bills without a normal sofa.”

You had to agree with that.

“How’s your hand?” you then remembered to ask.

He shrugged and looked at it. “It seems fine. A little sore at times, but I think it’s almost healed.”

“Good,” you smiled and gave him a pat on the head. “I’m glad.”

“And you’re proud that I got us jobs,” he urged with a playful smile, leaning a little too close to you, “right? I did good, right?”

You couldn’t help but laugh again. Much like one would do to a puppy, you finally gave him headpats and cooed, “Yes, you did so well. I’m so proud of you.”

He giggled at your affection but made no moves to reject it. In fact, he leaned further into your space and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Thank you.”

“No,” you sighed and held him close, “thank you.”

Soonyoung hadn’t been too far off with his job descriptions. It indeed had to do with books – a café-library hybrid. Exactly the type you had imagined when you were still young and naive. For the past ten years, you hadn’t even thought this kind of business could actually exist.

Under Mina’s supervision, Soonyoung was appointed the newest waiter at the café section. It took him a few days to get a hold of the coffee maker and the cash-register system.

In the meantime, the far less sociable you was in charge of tending to his near-daily burns as well as restocking and organising the bookshelves.

It was a perfect work division and you didn’t even mind the job too much – especially not when Soonyoung all but ran over to you with a fresh cup of your favourite hot beverage every time there were no customers in the building.

“Did you make this by yourself this time?” you asked between sips.

Soonyoung was practically shining, his chest buffed out proudly, as he nodded. “How is it? Better than last time, right?”

“Well, it doesn’t taste burnt this time,” you half-joked and pinched his cheek affectionately. “Good job.”

“Yes!” He just about vibrated in his place, excited to see improvements in his work. “I’ll become the best barista this town has ever seen.”

“Considering you couldn’t even figure out how to use a kettle the other day, I really can’t wait.”

“Right? Me neither.” He smiled at you, choosing to ignore the little jab at his technical skills. “How are the books treating you today?”

You glanced at the return cart. “It’s not the worst day. It’s manageable.”

“We got really lucky with this job, huh?” he thought out loud. “We should get paid today.”

“Still going to buy a new sofa with the first check?” you teased.

He scoffed as if he felt offended by your words. “The moment we get out tomorrow, we’re going to IKEA. I’m not even joking. I cannot stand that damn thing anymore.”

“And how do you suppose we get that thing to the fourth floor?”

He preferred to not embarrass himself by admitting that he hadn’t really thought that far yet. Instead, he cleared his throat and gestured to the return cart. “Do you need help with those? Mina said I’m not allowed at the counter because I keep stealing her loyal customers.”

“That’s what you get for being too handsome,” you joked and handed him a book to put on the shelf.

He grinned. “You think I’m handsome? Really?”

“What? You thought you’re getting all those tips just for being so good at making coffee?”

“Well,” he paused and pressed his lips together into a tight line of defeat, “no, but–”

“But?”

A confident smile came back onto his lips. “But it’s nice to hear that you think I’m handsome.”

You scoffed and shoved a book to his chest. “I’m never admitting anything to you again.”

“You can’t help it. You think I’m handsome.”

You chose to not interact with him for the rest of the work day, aside from a few hums, remarks and laughs at his dumb jokes. No one could fully ignore Soonyoung. The day went by faster in his presence.

To your surprise, you had multiple notifications when you finally remembered to check your phone. A bank notification to inform you of the paycheck going through – you let out a little sound of cheer because you were officially no longer poor to the point of hunger – and two messages from a number that made your blood run cold.

[did you really think you could just run to a different city and your debts would be forgotten?]

[tomorrow, 8 pm, the corner of rosewood and williams. bring the money and don’t be late.]

And just like that your week took a sharp left turn towards hell.

“You’re not coming to the store with me?” Soonyoung wondered in surprise as the two of you walked out of the store. “Why not?”

You hated lying to Soonyoung. So you didn’t. “There’s someone I have to meet.”

Not a lie. Just an omission. He would never know. It was for the best.

“Am I supposed to pick the sofa out on my own then?” he pouted and tugged at your sleeve. “But it’s your sofa too.”

“I trust your taste.”

Now, maybe you weren’t entirely uncomfortable with lying to him. But this was a lie so dumb and bold that it might as well have been a joke with how annoyed he looked.

You groaned under his scrutinising stare. “Fine. You can just text me when you think you found something you like. And then I’ll say if I like it or not.”

He seemed a little hesitant still, almost as if he knew that your plans for the evening were too dangerous for you to go on your own. But he trusted you. You wished he didn’t.

Finally, he sighed softly and nodded. “Fine. But if you don’t answer within five minutes of each text, I have the right to be mad.”

“Deal.”

“Deal!” He smiled proudly at that and nodded. “I’ll go and find us a sofa then.”

“How are you going to get it inside?” you still wondered.

He rolled his eyes, making a show of his tiredness of you underestimating him. “I already talked to Jihoon. He promised to help and get some of the other guys to help as well.”

“Good,” you smiled and gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. Somehow you felt the need to show him you cared in this moment. “Don’t strain your back, okay?”

He nodded, looking a little solemn at the realisation that you really wouldn’t go along with him. Briefly you wondered if he actually did know where you were going as he took your hand and insistently looked into your eyes. His voice wavered a little as he told you, “You be safe too, alright? Call me if anything happens.”

“Of course,” you breathed out and shook off his hand before heading your way. How you wished you could keep your promise.

As you made your way to the meeting point, you briefly wondered if you were doing the right thing at all. This was something the you from your hometown would’ve done. You would’ve liked to believe that the you of this city was brave enough to not even bother with your past.

Maybe it would’ve been smarter to call the authorities and ask them for help. Heck, even asking for help of one of the guys living in your building could have had better consequences than your current plan.

But your mind was already made up: you were going to break out of this circle the only way you knew how – by facing it head-first.

You reached the the corner of Rosewood and Williams just a minute before 8. When you did, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. When you checked it, you couldn’t help but sigh at Soonyoung’s name on the screen. As you were about to reply, however, a voice interrupted you.

“Glad to see you’re still as punctual as ever. Now, where is my money?”

You took a deep calming breath. It used to be a lot easier to fake nonchalance before you met Soonyoung. He had changed you.

“I don’t have your money.”

When you turned to face the woman, you did so with the knowledge that it would be your last time to do this, one way or another…

Soonyoung never did hear back from you after the two of you went your different ways in the street. Though he had expected you to ignore his texts and calls, even expected you to come home a little late, he truthfully wasn’t even half-prepared for the anxiety the situation would bring him.

He spent the better part of the night pacing back and forth in the apartment. He was restless – more so than ever before. He hadn’t even been able to pick out a new sofa despite his generous paycheck because he was simply that worried.

There had been something off about you when you bid goodbye that evening and he both feared and waited the moment you’d come home. Even when he tried to rest, he couldn’t go to sleep until you came back to him.

At around 2 am he gave up on sleep and simply sat down on the floor in the middle of the living room, facing the front door as if it could open at any moment now. Between his anxious sighs and curses, he unlocked his phone in hopes of an update. When there was no sign of you even there, he groaned and texted Jihoon to let him know – the man was his only friend in this building besides you.

The clock dragged on.

3 am – nothing.

4 am – nothing but it appeared that Jihoon had fallen asleep in spite of Soonyoung’s panic.

5 am. He heard a rustle at the door.

At first he paid it no mind, assuming it was Seungkwan and Bookkeu going for their morning walk. But his half-asleep brain kicked right into gear when he heard the sound of keys against the lock – against your lock.

Without a second to lose, he jumped up – a little sore from sitting on the ground all night.

He just about cried when he opened the door to find you there. “Where were you?! It’s 5 in the morning!”

You could only whine in response, all of your energy going into staying even somewhat upright. It took Soonyoung a moment to realise your distress, but once he did, he flew right into action.

“Wait,” he gasped as he helped you inside, “you’re bleeding?!”

“Just a little,” you told him and sat on the chair he promptly pulled out for you. “It’s fine.”

Soonyoung looked ready to scream when you told him that. But he must’ve realised that was a dumb idea because he squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath, and then mumbled under his breath, “I’m so killing you after this, I swear to god–” He ran towards the bathroom all while still grumbling, “Where’s that stupid first aid kit? Under the sink?”

You could only grit your teeth and fight the urge to cry. You weren’t one to cry – crying meant weakness and Soonyoung had seen you at your weakest two more times than you would have liked.

“Why didn’t you go to the hospital? What if you die?” he scolded you once he emerged from the dimly lit bathroom with a familiar red bag.

He placed it onto the counter next to you and prompted you to lift your shirt enough to show him the wound. You shook your head and pushed him away before reaching for the bag yourself. With practised grace, you pulled out the disinfectant and bandages. “Don’t come any closer.”

“I just want to help–”

“You’ll get nightmares,” you interrupted him while doing everything you could to not cry out when the disinfectant touched your skin. After letting out a muffled hiss, you looked up to still find him there, staring like he couldn’t look away. You rolled your eyes at the sight. “Soonyoung. I’m serious. I can do this myself.”

He seemed almost sad at the mention. “Yeah, but… Just because you can doesn’t mean you should have to.”

You sighed and continued to clean the blood. “Just let me be.”

“What happened to you?” he eventually asked your most feared question. You didn’t dare open your mouth to answer. Yet, he pressed on, his voice rising a little with each passing question. “Who was it? Was it that someone you had to meet? What did they do to you?” When you still didn’t dare answer, he scoffed and his worry grew into anger. “I asked who did this to you?!”

You gulped. “An old… acquaintance.”

“Acquaintance?”

It was then that you realised that he wouldn’t leave you alone before he got the full story. You didn’t like that idea one bit. “Soonyoung, you don’t need to know any more. Just leave it.”

He rolled his eyes and clenched his teeth. “Let me get this straight: you think I should watch my roommate– no, my closest friend walk in, blood all over them, at the dead of the night – hell, it’s morning! – and just leave it?” He just about laughed at the idea. “You won’t let me tend to your wounds, so at least tell me what happened. You owe me that much.”

A deep breath – painful due to your injuries – and a sigh. You hesitantly began, “I used to hang out with some… horrible people. I didn’t like to, but I didn’t have a lot of better options around. So, I became a horrible person too.”

“You were in a gang?” His eyes widened before he looked away, as if he was ashamed of even knowing you. At least so you assumed – it was a look you were accustomed to, at least. But when he looked back at you, his eyes were brimming with tears. “They came to get back at you for something, didn’t they?”

You cringed. “I may have stolen some of their cash and… told on them to the police in exchange for a new start.”

Soonyoung wasn’t the smartest guy in town, or even the building, but it appears he was smarter than you. “You didn’t think one of those bad guys would find out and come to get back at you? Didn’t even consider it?”

“Not really, no.” You refused to actually admit that you were that dumb just a few months ago. At least you refused to admit it directly. “I guess I was just foolishly hopeful.”

He let out a deep sigh, his arms crossing over his chest as he leaned against the counter, staring up at the ceiling to blink back the tears of both rage and sorrow he felt for you.

Silence once again filled the room as the two of you stood there, one cleaning their wounds and the other thinking thoughts unknown to the other. Finally, after what felt like forever, once you had wrapped the bandages around your abdomen and arm, Soonyoung looked at you again.

The tears were gone and a glint of fire burned in his eyes instead. His voice was uncharacteristically cold as he uttered, “They won’t touch a hair on your body again. I’ll make sure of it.”

You blinked in confusion. “How exactly?”

He didn’t offer another word of explanation. Instead, he sighed and glanced at the clock before rubbing his eyes and yawning. He offered you a narrow-eyed stare and an accusatory pointed finger. “You’re not coming to work tomorrow.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You’re taking a sick day, maybe a week. I’ll talk to Mina about it, don’t worry,” he told you, his voice still low and even before he made his way to the bedroom. You followed soon after.

“We need the money though,” you argued all the while trying hide your limp.

He turned around to offer a pointed stare. “You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine–”

His voice rose again, “Did you forget the part where you almost died?!” He took a calming breath, closing his eyes before adding in a whisper, “You’re staying home and that’s final.”

You didn’t dare argue.

Though you were anxious of what was yet to come, of how your relationship with Soonyoung would go on, it appeared your exhaustion won. The bed had never felt so comfortable and safe, if a little cold without his arms around you this time.

In fact, he made a conscious effort to remain on his side of the bed this time, barely willing to graze against you as the two of you slept.

But when the morning finally came, even through your sleep, you felt a hand softly brushing over your cheeks and soft murmurs of promises you would forget by the time you woke up.

You spent the next day home, alone. It was lonely and cold without Soonyoung around as his presence had largely made up for the lack of decorations and home-like feeling in the apartment.

When he didn’t as much as spare you a second glance in the morning, you first worried your secrecy had enraged him to a point of silence and the ruins of your friendship.

You spent half the day in bed, contemplating if you could really face the day when you had managed to frustrate him so. The other half of the day was spent aimlessly walking in circles around the apartment, looking for anything to do to distract you from your worries.

You found yourself glancing at your phone in hopes of a new message from him, of any sign he thought about you at all.

Fortunately, Soonyoung proved your fear wrong when he returned from work with a bright-eyed smile and a take-away bag of pastries from the café. “Hey! How are you feeling today?”

Just hearing his voice made you soft inside on this day. Without a second of hesitation, you ran over (the best you could with your limp) and pulled him into a hug. He was taken off-guard by your sudden affection, almost to the point of dropping the bag of pastries he’d brought.

When you didn’t utter a single word, his smile morphed into a pout and his hand reached up to rub your back. His voice softened. “Are you okay?”

You nodded. Finally, you found your voice. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“Mad at you?” He opened his mouth to argue but soon realised that he was, in fact, just a little bit upset with you. “Well, I’m not going to let you be miserable just because I’m a little upset with you. Speaking of which, I bought you some–”

“Just hold me now. Let it be,” you whispered and leaned further into his embrace. He couldn’t find it in himself to protest.

So he just held you, right there in the front hall, still fully dressed in his coat and boots.

“Soonyoung,” you then started, “about yesterday…”

“You don’t need to apologise.”

“It’s not that. I just want you to know,” you leaned back to look at him, “you don’t have to worry about the guys who hurt me.”

His brows rose. “What do you mean? Of course I have to worry about them! They hurt you and you just want me to forget about that? We should report them to the authorities not–”

“I don’t think you understand,” you laughed a little, though there was little humour in the sound. “Soonyoung, we don’t have to worry about them anymore. They got what they wanted and, believe me, they fear me more than I fear them now. I walked out pretty unscathed compared to some of them.”

Soonyoung opened his mouth to inquire some more but remained silent. “I… don’t think I needed to know that. But,” he sighed out in relief, “I guess that means I don’t have to ask for a favour from a friend of mine after all.”

Your eyes narrowed. “What kind of friend?”

“... The head prosecutor of this part of the country.”

“You–” Your jaw dropped. “You know the head prosecutor?”

“I know a lot of people,” he admitted with a shy laugh, stepping back out of your embrace to sheepishly scratch the back of his head. “Didn’t I tell you?”

“What kind of people?”

“Powerful ones.” Your silence prompted him to add some examples. “The prime minister, some people in the state secretary… The president.”

It strangely made sense now that you thought of it. He did tend to dress a little too formal. He was impeccably polite. And yet he seemed to lack any understanding of the most trivial things.

“You come from old money, don’t you?” you eventually realised. “You’re one of those Kwons.”

“Those Kwons?” he wondered.

You smiled as the pieces fit further together, forming the perfect picture you had been to close to fully see. “One of the richest families in Korea. You’re an heir to a billion-dollar fortune, Soonyoung. I kept wondering why your name rang so familiar.”

He grimaced. “Yeah, I guess I haven’t done a very good job of hiding.”

“But why are you here then?” you asked, tilting your head. “You’re rich, you’re practically famous. Why this dump? Why me?”

“That– That is a story for another day,” he sighed and took off his coat, toed off his shoes, and walked into the apartment.

But just like he had been the day before, you decided to keep pushing. “Soonyoung.”

And unlike you the day before, he cracked far more easily. “I was sick and tired of the way I was treated. I was practically a play doll for the company – I was whatever they wanted me to be, whenever they needed me to be. I never got to grow to be what I wanted.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

He laughed bitterly and slumped onto the sofa, you following right after, your hand reflexively coming up to rest on his shoulder. “You have no idea. I was a Kwon before I was Soonyoung. I was the property of the company before I was my father’s son. I had all the money in the world but none of the freedom to use it. I hated every second of it. So…” He sighed.

“You ran away.”

“Thought it was my only option. But I don’t think I realised how much more difficult life is without all the money and the contacts.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered and let him lean into your side, his head coming to rest on your shoulder. With the softest kiss on his forehead, you promised, “We’ll figure it all out together.”

The two of you sat in silence for a while, just taking in the situation and each other’s company. Now that neither of you had anything to hide anymore, a strange new sense of home filled the apartment.

The sofa was still just as creaky and hard as the day when you arrived, and the rooms were still hauntingly empty, but there was more than enough comfort for the two of you.

“So,” he started again, a little more cheerfully, “do you want macaroons? I bought some.”

You smiled. “I could go for something sweet, now that you mention it.”

“Sugar helps you heal faster,” he joked and poked your side, making you wince just a little, “and you need it more than I do.”

“Does that mean I get to eat extra macaroons?” you teased and he immediately gasped at the mention, wounded by your suggestion.

“After all I have done for you–”

“Just kidding, just kidding.”

Despite Soonyoung’s protests, you returned to work just one day later, even as you continued limping and wincing every time you moved.

Obviously, he kept on worrying and checking in on you at every chance. And there was nothing you could do about it.

It was both amusing and annoying to see him peek between the shelves every time he caught a break, as brief as it was. Each time, he’d offer a toothy smile and sometimes a candy he nicked from the break room.

“You know you have a job of your own, right?” you laughed when he returned to your side for the 20th time that day. “I bet there’s a queue forming at the register already.”

“Nah,” he waved away your concerns and leaned against the bookshelves to watch you, “rush hour’s done. We should be fine for half an hour at least. Besides, I’m more worried about you.”

“And you’ve chosen to spend that half hour bothering me just because of that? Any other reasons?”

“You’re pretty to look at.” No hesitation. Not even a waver in his voice. “I love spending time with you.”

You scoffed and hoped he wouldn’t notice how flustered he made you feel. “You don’t know a lot of people, do you?”

“No, but the people I do know are all wonderful. Like you. Oh, and did I tell you that I ordered a new sofa for us earlier?” He grinned proudly. “So you can rest better while you heal.”

“Can you two stop flirting?” Mina’s voice carried into the bookstore side of the building. “Soonyoung, you’re supposed to be helping me clean!”

His eyes widened at the mention. “Oh shoot.” He hesitated to return to his post, eyeing you in concern as you lightly leaned against the shelves after a movement that was too sudden. “Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Promise?”

“Soonyoung.”

“Fine, I’ll go. But when we get home, you’re not moving even an inch without my permission,” he threatened with a playful smile before kissing your cheek and rushing back to the counter.

You spent the next half hour in a daze — it was the first time he had kissed you at all.

From then on, you often wondered if you even deserved the affections of this man. He seemed far too great and perfect for you. Too wonderful and kind for the likes of you who used to make people’s lives hell for the fun of it.

But sometimes you thought maybe – maybe he was exactly what you deserved and needed: a broken yet cheerful man to mend your equally broken and lonely self. Maybe you were meant to heal each other.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” you asked him through a tired laugh as he frantically flipped through the instructions’ booklet. “Because it sure doesn’t look like it.”

“It’s a sofa,” he grumbled, “how hard could it possibly be?”

“You keep saying that but then it has also taken you like an hour to assemble even a third of it.”

He hummed in response, brows furrowed, too deep in the instructions to really listen.

You scoffed at the sight. It had been unbearably adorable just thirty minutes ago, but now? It had been well over an hour and the heating was acting up again. You were getting cold. Very, very cold.

But unfortunately Soonyoung had explicitly forbidden you from moving a single finger unless you wanted to extend your rest – a rule you had taken for a joke at first. But now an entire month had passed and Soonyoung had kept his promise: when you weren’t at work, you were on bedrest at home until he deemed you healthy again.

Thus, now wiser than a month ago, you remained seated on the old sofa, arms wrapped around yourself for warmth, and sighed. “Soonyoung…”

“Listen,” he sighed and looked up at you finally, “I am trying. This thing is more complicated than it looks.”

You pouted – a habit you picked up after living with this man for over two months now. “But I’m cold… ”

His pout matched yours immediately. “What can I do about that?”

“You could hand me a blanket?” you offered with a hopeful smile.

Soonyoung chuckled at your tone, his earlier frustration at the sofa disappearing immediately. He got up and headed to the bedroom, soon emerging with a warm blanket and a garment in hand. He placed both in your lap. “Here, a blanket and you can have my hoodie, too.”

“Your hoodie?” you wondered, picking up the item and eyeing it suspiciously. “Weren’t you wearing this just now?”

He shrugged. “Nice and warm for you, sweetheart.”

You shut up at the nickname, afraid that if you voiced another thought your voice would betray you. But your face must have betrayed you regardless.

“Gosh, you’re so cute!” he cooed just seconds later, squishing your cheeks together a little before pressing a kiss to your forehead as he now often found himself doing. It was as if his need for physical affection had doubled after you got injured.

You whined and shook out of his hold, pulling the blanket over your head to hide. “Stop calling me cute. I’m not cute.”

“You’re absolutely so cute.”

“I’m not.”

“The absolute cutest.” He continued squeezing you through your warm, cosy fortress made up of a single blanket. Thankfully, he soon let up, with a laugh, and returned to his spot on the ground where the pieces of the sofa lied.

“Okay, I can do this,” you heard him whisper to himself in encouragement. You quietly cheered him on from underneath the blanket, peeking out just a little to watch his adorable pout and furrow of brows return.

“Fuck…” you mumbled under your breath, blood running cold in fear despite your heart beating faster in adoration, “I think I might be in love.”

You had dreaded this day. Feared it. Had nightmares about it. But it had come and it was even worse than you imagined: you had finally fallen in love.

But love? Love meant being tied down. It meant being vulnerable and loyal. It meant being there for him when he needed you. But you weren’t sure you could offer that to him.

It was a terrifying realisation. You weren’t used to being tied down or attached to anyone. You had made more enemies than friends in your lifetime. Lovers? Never.

Then there was the issue of reciprocation: just because you were in love didn’t mean he had to be as well. And this was something you couldn’t bear.

You decided that a lonely heart was better than a broken one and distanced yourself in hopes of it being a passing fancy.

It started small. Short answers to his questions. Avoiding his eyes at work. Rolling as far away from him as you could in bed (a fruitless effort, as somehow you still woke up in his arms).

When he didn’t seem to notice, you escalated. Avoided him at all possible places. Took your breaks when he was too busy to join you. You even began sleeping on the new sofa under the pretence that the rising outside warmth was making the bedroom and his embrace too hot to sleep in.

Had you not been so preoccupied with your own feelings, you would’ve noticed the way his eyes shone less brightly and his smiles didn’t quite reach as high as they used to. He had noticed your distancing efforts, and he was heartbroken.

Still, you didn’t dare risk it. You didn’t want to get your heart broken when you were already the most fragile and vulnerable you had been in years.

“Okay, I have had enough of this,” Mina declared one day, stomping over to your section of the store to drag you to lunch. She practically threw your jacket at you before leading you to a café across the street. “Come on.”

After sitting down, you began to fear the worst. “So–”

“Why are you playing with Soonyoung’s feelings?” she interrupted, crossing her arms over her chest while glaring daggers at you. You paled at her sharp tone. “Is this a game to you?”

“Game? I’m not following–”

She scoffed out a laugh. “Not following?! Have you even looked at him this past week?”

“Sure I have.”

“Really? And you didn’t notice anything strange?”

“Strange as in?”

Her stern look dropped into something more akin to genuine concern. “You– You actually didn’t notice?”

“I have never been so confused in my entire life,” you confessed despite the little bell at the back of your head ringing to say that you knew exactly what she was talking about.

She relaxed in her seat and stared at you, wide-eyed. “I’m worried about both of you now, then. Listen,” she leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table, “I know I used to tease you about flirting all of the time and what-not, but… I miss hearing the two of you goofing off at work. Now it’s just dead-silent all the time.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Did something happen between the two of you?”

You hesitated.

“Come on, you can tell me,” she encouraged sweetly. “Maybe all you need is someone to listen to you.”

“I… I think I might love him,” you eventually whispered, breaking under her relentless stare, “and I don’t know if I’m ready for it. Or if I even deserve it.”

“Oh, honey…”

“He’s so sweet and he’s funny and caring and gives me his hoodies when I’m cold and he learnt to cook so I wouldn’t have to. And me– I’m just a wreck. I don’t deserve to love him.”

“But he loves you,” she whispered so sincerely you almost believed her. You shook your head at the thought, laughing at it almost, until she took your hand and repeated, “He loves you. And I think you’re the only one who hasn’t realised yet.”

“You read too many romance novels,” you told her with a sigh. “How could he ever love me?”

“I assume he thinks the same way about you,” she told you with a sympathetic smile. “You know, he talks about you a lot. I swear he could write a whole novel about you. So, why can’t you just love him back?”

“He doesn’t love me. Even if I love him. He can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because if he loves me, he’ll get hurt. He’ll find out that I’m more broken than I let on. He’ll get his heart broken and hate me for the rest of his life. I don’t want that to happen.”

“But,” she was close to tears, always a hopeless romantic at heart, “what if he’s your romance of a lifetime? What if he’s the one that’s meant to be with you?”

“What if we crash and burn?”

“But how do you know that you will if you won’t even give it a chance?”

You didn’t say anything else but her words echoed in your head for days to come.

Soonyoung was many things. Patient was not necessarily one of his qualities. In fact, he was rather short-tempered and he wasn’t afraid to admit it.

He let you be for a week – two even. He forced himself to be patient and calm and keep smiling even as you ignored him. He almost hit a breaking point when you picked up your blanket and pillow and left to sleep on the sofa, but still he told himself that you were going through a phase and you would come out of it a warmer person.

But then the third week began and you were colder than ever. He felt as if an ice wall had been built between the two of you. And frankly he was sick of it.

When the day came to a close, he gathered his courage and headed out the café door. As usual by now, you stayed behind at work a little longer under the guise of working overtime. And unlike usual, he stood there waiting for you outside the store.

About an hour passed and he was about to lose hope when you finally stepped out, clad in your hoodie. He jumped up from his spot on the sidewalk and ran to meet you. He didn’t bother to smile.

“Soonyoung,” you gasped in surprise and took a step back as if to hide. “What are you doing here? You should be back home. It’s late.”

“Strange,” he laughed humourlessly, “I was about to say the same about you.” He looked at you up and down once before sighing and shrugging off his jacket, despite your noises of protest. He placed it around your shoulders, adjusting it as he spoke, “Where’s your coat? It’s not even proper spring yet and you’re walking around like it’s summer.”

“I’m fine.”

He frowned and scoffed. “I’m not.”

“Why?”

“Because this is the first proper conversation we’ve had in three weeks,” he whispered, hand falling from your shoulder to your palm. “Did I do something wrong? Did I upset you? If you were so mad at me for making you rest, you should’ve just said so. I would’ve–”

“That’s why I didn’t say anything. Because if I told you that something was wrong, you would do anything to fix it. But you can’t fix this.”

“I can try.”

“I don’t want you to.”

He let go of your hand to run his fingers through his hair, tugging at it as he sighed, “Why not? Why won’t you let me help you?”

You felt your lip begin to wobble. “I don’t want you to get hurt because of me, Soonyoung.”

He frowned at your words. “Why would I get hurt?”

Why did he have to be so damn stubborn?

“Because I love you, and if you loved me, nothing good would come out of it! I’m not good enough for you!”

You felt a stray tear fall. Perhaps it was too late to hide now. Your voice wavered as much as your confidence did. Because even when you shouted at him, even when you broke his heart, he only looked at you as if you had set the stars in the sky to light his way home on this dark night.

“You’re making me feel things I never thought I could and it’s scary. You changed everything: the sun is suddenly brighter because it reminds me of you, the people I used to deal with regularly are suddenly scarier because I fear they’ll come for you, and I don’t know if it’s good or bad, whether I’m happy or sad. I’m a wreck, and I’m not good for you.”

“You think I don’t feel the same way about you?” he breathed out after a pause, close to tears himself. “Do you have any idea how selfish I used to be? I ran away from my family just because I wanted to prove myself. I’m not even disinherited, I still have access to all that money if I want it – but, instead, I made you live in that shell of an apartment with me because I was too damn proud to ask my parents for help. I’m not any better than you.”

While you reached up to wipe his tears, you gave in to the temptation to run your fingers through his hair: it had grown since you moved together. Blonde and spiky and short when you met, his hair was black and smooth now, almost reaching past his eyes. He looked like a different person all-together – more mature and sure of himself than before. You wondered if you did too.

“You say I changed everything for you,” he spoke softly, leaning his forehead against yours, “but you changed everything for me too. Please don’t take it all away from me now. These past three weeks have been like hell for me. Please make it stop…”

You couldn’t even find any other words to say. Perhaps you really were perfect for each other as Mina had said. Two broken pieces that fit together.

“Can I…” He took a deep breath before whispering, “Can I kiss you? Even if it’s just this once.”

You nodded. His lips found yours barely a moment later, soft and plush, filling you with a warmth you suddenly craved. The kiss was too brief for you liking you found and when he went to regretfully pull away, you pulled him right back.

The doubts you had, faded into nothingness, but the warmth of his embrace remained as his arms wrapped around your body. It was then that you decided to follow your heart instead of your mind.

“I was being dumb, wasn’t I?” you breathed out when the two of you stepped away from one another, arms still lingering. “I’m sorry.”

“You may be dumb, but I’m no better,” he whispered with a light laugh. “So, does this mean you’ll give me– give us a chance?”

You pressed your lips to his again instead of an answer.

[bonus epilogue]

He whined and fell back into the mattress, letting it consume him whole. “Do we need to fix the other bedroom? We can just share this one.”

“Don’t you want your own space?” you wondered while picking your clothes for the day.

“Why would I?” He pouted. “Why would I need my own space when I could just be in yours?”

You groaned at that. Ever since you began dating, he’d been nothing short of affectionate: holding your hands at every chance, hugging, cuddling, kisses, pecks, head pats. And as much as you tried to hate it, it was hard to find it anything other than endearing.

“Okay, but if you don’t want your own bedroom–”

“Correct.”

“–then what should we do with our other bedroom?”

“... a room for our pets?”

“We don’t have any pets,” you told him with a laugh and sat down next to him to play with his hair (a gesture he greatly enjoyed). “All we have is that one houseplant Mina gave us.”

“I’ve been thinking about that, actually.” He sat up abruptly, eyes shining, a bright smile on his face. “We should get a dog.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Didn’t we have this conversation already?”

“Yes, but it was before we started smooching–”

“I hate that wording.”

“Romantically cuddling?”

“No.”

“Fine, you’re boring. It was before we started dating and I think we’ve grown a lot since then. We’re ready for a kid.”

It appeared your heart was made of soft cotton-candy rather than cold hard stone. You had eased up greatly in the past few months. And so, not even begrudgingly, you sighed and agreed, “We can get a dog.”

He lit up like the 4th of July. “Really?”

“Yes, but it has to be a dog we both like,” you compromised (or so you told yourself to not admit how easily you gave in to him).

“Then we have a reason to make the other room our pet room,” he declared and jumped to his feet. “Let’s get started.”

You laughed. “Now?”

“Yes, now. When else?”

“I don’t know. I’m too tired.” You emphasised your point with a theatrical yawn.

Soonyoung giggled at the sight of you slumping back in the bed and leaned down to press a single kiss to your lips. “Better?”

You pouted and shook your head.

Another kiss, followed by three more. You smiled now and sat up as he gently pulled you by the collar of your sweater.

“Great, then let’s eat some breakfast and get planning.” Leaving you standing in the middle of the bedroom, he walked out. Then he turned once again at the doorway and smiled brightly, as if an idea had struck him right there. “We should name our dog Tiger!”

“We’re not naming our dog Tiger.”

“What about our first-born child then?”

You raised a brow and followed after him. “Absolutely not.”

“You’re no fun.”

“And yet you love me.”

He sighed deeply. “I do love you.”

A/N: this fic took so long and i am so sorry. the next fic will hopefully be ready faster and it’ll be more fun to read <3

#seventeenweeklyarticle #seventeen x reader #kwon soonyoung #hoshi #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #seventeen angst #soonyoung x reader #hoshi x reader #soonyoung scenarios #.avy writes #series: serenity street 17 💙

253 notes · View notes