#iv. ( the band ) — tell your friends !

[swagging-back-to]

worst trope is found family separating as soon as the antagonist is dealt with.

[walnutcookie]

im sorry i cannot stand people whos only sense of humor is suggestive jokes. im not saying that u cant talk about sex and you cant make jokes about it but why does literally every word out of your mouth have to be about something suggestive and you dont ever think to ask the people youre making these jokes to and about if theyre uncomfortable people. and you cant make jokes about Literally anything else. I live in hell (highschool)

[peaceeandcoolestvibes]

.

[seung-mong]

everyone adores you (i hate that i do too) - kim seungmin

includes: seungmin x reader, friends to enemies to strangers to friends to lovers?? (kinda academic rivals vibe) college au, soft dom! seungie, everyone knows they r in love except them, kinda slow burn? idk, fluff, angst, quick vanilla smut scene at the end, unprotected sex, possessive seungmin, creampie oopsie woopsie, felix is lowk seungmin's downfall lmao

a/n: the people have chosen, thank u for those who voted on the poll!! i know this is so ridiculously late but ive been in a writer's funk lately and ive just been so unmotivated #rant anyway i hope you guys like this one:') chan x hybrid felix x reader up next?? :00

wc: 12k YAPPING ofc my longest fic is of my husband #seungminlover #myMan

"there's nothing i can do for you, mr. kim. you failed to submit the third reflection essay. i have been considerate with your other late submissions..." the middle aged professor sighs, bringing a hand to his forehead and massaging his temples in frustration.

seungmin's hands wrap tighter around the strap of his bag, nylon almost burning against his palm due to the friction. "mr. park," he almost whines, leaning forward in his chair.

seungmin's desperate. he needs to pass this class, a prerequisite to all of his majors. he'll be damned if he takes his classes later than everyone else. "please, there must be something i can do. anything for extra credit. i really really need to pass this class." his voice slightly breaks, so close to tears. he can feel the red hot embarrassment that washes over him at the thought of having to explain why he cant enlist in the same classes as his friends.

he's never gonna hear the end of it when he tells his parents, always hard on his ass about biting off more than he can chew and he's always shrugged them off. how is everything so different now? in highschool he was juggling acads, being president of the student council, being in choir, dance, band, and the debate team. and now? four classes and a stupid glee club and hes falling behind.

his worst fear.

the older man swallows thickly, obviously uncomfortable at his student's sudden show of vulnerability. "mr. kim, i really want to help you. but im afraid there's no extra work i can give you to help you raise your grade.

seungmin shakes his head, slumping deep in his seat.

"normally i'd offer that you could check some papers and-"

"i'll do it!" seungmin yells, almost jumping out of his seat.

"but another student has already offered to be my teaching assistant for this term for extra credit as well.... unless you could convince them to split the workload... id consider raising your grade."

"sir, anything! who do i have to convince?" seungmin lets out a sigh of relief. and he thought all hope was lost.

"miss y/l/n. do you know her?"

fuck. all hope is lost.

you huff as you push open the heavy metal doors to your apartment building, canvas bag filled to the brim with papers you're supposed to check. the weight is heavy on your shoulder, strap digging uncomfortably into your skin. the sting lingers as you waddle over to your apartment locker, dropping the bag as you dig into your coat pocket for your keys.

"oh, y/n! im glad i caught you." you turn around to see a kind face smiling at you from the foot of the stairs, long blonde hair tied somewhat neatly to keep strands away from his neck. stubborn clumps of hair fall over his forehead, sticking to the skin in a thin sheen of sweat.

"hyunjin?" you squeal, leaving all your bags right there on the floor as you run towards your childhood friend. your arms wrap around his neck as he laughs, arms coming up to wrap around your waist. you nearly knock him off his feet from the force that you throw yourself at him, but he cant blame you. it has been way too long.

"but... what are you doing here? i thought you were still in paris?" you chuckle, breathless as you pull apart from him.

"non!," he teases, but his smile quickly shifts. "due to some, ah- unfortunate circumstances, i had to return home a little earlier than i had planned," he shrugs, grabbing your arm and hooking it with his.

"oh cut the bullshit, hwang." you laugh, pulling him towards your locker. "tell me what happened," you groan, bending down to pick up your bag. hyunjin, ever the gentleman, quickly reacts from beside you, taking it away from you before slinging it over his own shoulder. "tell me what really happened, hm? it's me." you huff, punching him lightly on the shoulder.

he smiles sadly at you, shaking his head. he knows he cant lie to you. "how about we catch up over a cup of coffee, huh? my, ive been looking all over campus for you and when we finally meet after three years you dont even invite me in?" he pouts at you.

you roll your eyes at his dramatics. nice to know he hasnt changed that about himself. dare you say paris has only fed his dramatic flare? "let's go have some coffee somewhere else then, my apartment's kinda messy right now. oh! have you told felix you're back? you guys are... okay now, right?" you're careful to watch his expression at the mention of his past lover.

"no, he doesnt know im home. it kinda defeats the whole purpose of the surprise, you know?" he retorts, watching you with a fond smile as you shove your phone and keys back into your pockets. "and yes. felix and i are alright, thank you for asking."

"well, i'm sure he'd love to see you again. i know where he's working. maybe we could drop by for some drinks?"

hyunjin hums thoughtfully at that, chuckling a bit once you push open the damned metal door. "i guess it wouldnt hurt to say hello? besides. we have been... talking again."

"oh is that so?" you feign disinterest, eyes trained on the leaves that crunch under your feet.

he hums once more, squinting when he looks up, the sun beaming against his face. how he's missed its' warmth. paris was often gloomy. "we discussed possibly trying again." he says calmly, sighing with content.

you falter, "that might be good. ive always known you guys still loved each other! besides, you guys were young and stupid."

"that we were." hyunjin laughs. "well how about you and... ah- he who must not be named?"

you tense a little at that, opting to play it off with a shrug. "havent seen him around much, actually."

"well that's odd. you three were the only ones from our highschool to pass SNU and you guys dont keep in touch?"

"well i dont keep in touch with people from highschool much." you bite back.

"well how about me and felix?" he challenges.

"yea. just you two."

"arent you two in the same major?"

"we have different schedules. never aligns."

"but yuna and lia said-"

"i just dont see seungmin much, alright? that's that!" you groan, shoving your hands into your pockets.

"oh my dear y/n, nothing has changed! have you tried to patch things up with him? after all we were, hm what did you say, ah- young and stupid?"

"well he certainly was." you mumble, and hyunjin bursts out laughing. he throws an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer against his side. "god, i've missed you."

felix absolutely adores his job. he gets to help bake in the kitchens in the morning, and then he gets to make such fun little drinks while listening to music he chooses. he loves his coworkers, and his schedule is flexible, what with the manager knowing how most of his staff are all college students. the one thing he hates though? dealing with rude customers.

"i apologize, sir. our drinks are served in plastic cups as most of our customers dont finish their drink here, it's easier to take out in case you need to leave in a hurry." felix can feel the sweat start to form at his hairline, trickling slowly down his forehead as his cheeks twitch in a forced smile.

"well if i knew you served it in plastic cups, i never would have ordered!" the middle-aged man in front of him yells, eyebrows raised. students in the cafe have started to look over, trying hard to be discreet. some look annoyed, others clearly show how they feel sorry for felix.

felix tries his best to keep his smile, but he can feel anger and annoyance rise in him like hot water boiling deep in his gut.

"what the fuck is the difference??" he wants to scream, grab the stupid plastic cup from his stupid chubby fingers and throw it right in his stupid ugly face.

"im sorry sir, is there some kind of problem here?" a calm voice calls from behind the man, who turns around in surprise.

seungmin stands with his hands in his pockets, a small smile on his lips. he's dressed in nothing fancy, a university hoodie and some sweatpants. he's only supposed to catch up with felix as he busies himself around the cafe after all. his hair is tucked neatly in his cap, the perfect image of your average college student.

felix swears he's an angel sent from the heavens.

"this is none of your business, kid." the man snorts disgustingly, waving a chubby finger in seungmin's face.

"well, actually this is a public space and you're holding up the line. so yea, it kinda is my business. besides, you're on university grounds, i have every right to be here as a student." seungmin says coolly, taking a step towards the counter so he's able to somewhat position himself in between felix and this gross ugly man.

"listen, i'm a paying customer, so-"

"and the staff has the right to refuse service to anyone unless on the basis of race, religion, or ethnicity- isn't that right, felix?"

and its like suddenly felix has found his voice. he stands a little taller, leaning forward to get closer to the man's face. "that's right."

"and you're not refusing to serve this man because hes white or anything, right?" seungmin eggs him on, throwing the man a somewhat bored look.

"no. its because hes an asshole."

"hey-" the man steps forward, hands raised.

"well you heard him!" seungmin cuts the man off before he can continue, fully stepping in front of felix now. "if you dont leave within the next ten seconds, i'm calling security. they take peace and order on school grounds very seriously, you know?"

the man huffs, turning around and slamming the door behind him so hard that the little bell that jingles near the doorframe rattles wildly seconds after he's left.

"i dont know how you deal with assholes like that, felix. id probably lose my mind." seungmin sighs, throwing his friend a tight lipped smile.

"you kinda get used to it. but i've just been so tired this finals week that i dont even have the energy to stand up for myself anymore." felix shakes his head while he wipes the counter down.

seungmin nods understandingly, lunging for the man's untouched drink before felix can throw it. "this is paid, isn't it?"

"well, yes but-"

"alright, felix look. i have a problem." seungmin slides easily into one of the stools by the counter, taking a deep sip of the man's mystery drink.

felix nods in understanding, rearranging trays and cleaning up as much as he can.

"well actually, it's more of a favor? i dont know."

felix only hums, used to seungmin's rambling by now. seungmin's just like that, needs to talk to himself aloud a little before getting straight to the point.

"im actually screwed and there's no one else i can talk to because well, there's no more shame between us, yea? we've seen each other naked and ive seen you at your lowest low and youve been there for me and-"

"wow, this is pretty serious, huh?" felix jokes, pulling up a stool so he can sit in front of his friend.

"i think i'm gonna fail a class." seungmin spits out, holding his breath immediately after as he gauges his friend's reaction.

felix's smile slowly disappears. his mouth opens and closes like a fish as he tries to figure out what to say, in a state of total shock. this goes on for about five minutes before seungmin finally whines, head dropping to his hands.

"will you say something i can actually understand, felix?"

"i'm sorry i just- i dont understand. you're.... failing? you? kim seungmin? the kim seungmin?"

"wow you really know how to comfort a guy, huh?"

"i'm sorry!" felix jumps up to pull seungmin in for a half-hug, awkwardly wrapping his arms around seungmin's chest over the counter. "i just... how? why? what subject? are you sure?"

"yes, im sure. i missed a stupid submission. a major subject. look, thats not the worst part-"

"omigod you're dying. thats the only explanation-"

"no!" seungmin whines, pushing his friend off him. "the professor said he could give me extra credit-"

"but thats good news!"

"-if im able to convince... someone.... to split the task given to them with me."

"o...kay? just turn on your puppydog charm and you're good to go."

seungmin shakes his head, as if he's about to deliver such solemn news to felix that he has to pause for dramatic effect. felix rolls his eyes.

"it's... well the person is y/n."

felix stares at his friend with wide eyes, unblinking. then he tilts his head back and lets out the most obnoxious laugh, losing his breath as his neck turns a deep shade of red, the tint spreading across his cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears.

"you're joking! oh this is just too- oh, i cant breathe, ITS KARMA!" he suddenly yells, fighting for his life to breathe in as much air as possible, wiping the tears from his eyes.

seungmin winces, but deep down he knows this reaction is deserved.

his relationship with you is... a little complicated.

you met seungmin in your freshman year of highschool. you'd just moved to seoul, the New Girl. as batch rep, he was tasked with showing you around on your first day, teaching you the ropes and making you feel welcomed.

"well yea, thats basically it!" seungmin finishes, pace slowing down as he directs you to the bench just opposite the school clinic. "do you have any questions for me?" he asks with a slight tilt of his head.

your eyes stay trained on the floor, as they have been the past 30 minutes that this strange boy has toured you around the school. you shake your head. seungmin doesnt fully understand it yet, but somewhere deep down, he feels bad for you. you seem like the shy type, and he knows how hard it is to adjust and make new friends. god knows how he would have survived middle school if it weren't for his friends.

"hey, what do you say you come meet my friends tomorrow during lunch break?" he suddenly asks. for the first time since his homeroom teacher introduced you, you look up at him.

he's taken aback by how pretty your eyes are.

"oh, really?" you ask timidly, voice small.

"i- i mean yea! we're in the same homeroom anyway, right? plus i think it'll help you adjust a little better if you had people you could talk to and hang out with." seungmin shrugs.

"yea. i'd really like that. thank you, seungmin." your voice is so low its almost like you're mumbling.

before you know it, you're spending your lunch breaks laughing along with felix as he embarrasses all of seungmin's friends one by one, wincing away from changbin as he threatens to lunge across the table to shut the younger boy up, hyunjin clinging dramatically onto his boyfriend's side instead of defending him.

you're spending your weekends at seungmin's house as chan makes you all listen to his new demo, han turning red in the face when his verse comes on. you're walking to school with jeongin- arms full of convenience store goodies as you make fun of your grumpy old maths teacher, leeknow following quietly behind you both, scolding you when you get too close to the road.

before you know it, you've found yourself a group of friends who makes highschool just that much bearable.

seungmin's completely enamored by you, coming to learn that you're at the top of every class that you have (except the ones you have with him, of course). you're just as ambitious as he is, joining the debate team and the mock un club, quickly joining the officers despite being a new student.

he's somewhat threatened by you, though he'd never admit it to himself, or to anyone else for that matter. you score higher than him in statistics, and he cant help the ugly feeling that settles in his chest when you show your paper to him, a bright blue 100 circled at the top.

he tries not to let it get to him, changing his mindset into seeing it as a healthy competition, a way for him to challenge himself even more in to doing better than you. it feeds his competitive side, staying longer than you in the library, sleeping later than you, reading more books.

this one sided competition makes him feel conflicted. he's out for your blood, and yet you're the same sweet, shy girl he's always been close to. you spend most of your time with seungmin, studying with him at his house, sleeping over when you've realized its way past ten in the evening, sneaking out of his house for a quick convenience store run.

"min, i'm hungry! lets go down to the store." you'd whine, voice slightly muffled against his soft sheets, tucked nice and warm under his blankets.

"go home, you've finished all the food here." he'd tease, not even bothering to look away from his homework.

"cant. you'd miss me after an hour." you'd retort, reaching blindly behind you for a plushie to throw at the back of his head.

"suppose that's true. can't help but be used to your presence when you're here nearly every day," he'd feign annoyance, exhaling loudly through his nose.

you'd pout at him when he'd finally turn in his chair to look over at you, already so at home, snuggling even deeper into his bed.

you really do have such pretty eyes.

"fine. grab your coat." and he'd try hard to fight his smile at the sound of your delighted squeals.

you found a way to break through his walls, chip away at the cement and reduce it to a fine dust which you've blown away. but he stands unguarded all the same, not even bothering to put up a fight when you wrestle your way into his heart.

he'd like to keep you there, he thinks.

sometimes he'd lie to himself and say that he tried. by your senior year, he managed to ruin the one good thing in his life.

how stupid was he?

amazing, really. how he was able to throw away three years of friendship for fifteen minutes of fame.

"how could you do this to me?" you hiss, dropping your backpack onto the floor of seungmin's bedroom. his back is faced towards you, gently shutting his door before he leans his forehead on it. he takes a deep breath, gathering enough courage to face you.

"y/n, i-"

"you embarrassed me in front of everyone. you told them everything, things i told you in confidence because i fucking trusted you. how could you do this to me, seungmin? how could you fucking do this to me?" your tears are hot, angry against your cheeks as you pace around his room. your voice grows louder with every word, reaching a scream when you stand in front of him.

"i wasn't thinking, y/n. i-"

"and for what? to make me look bad?" you laugh hollowly, hands flying to your hair in disbelief. "to make me look like some poor, fucking loser who's so mentally unstable she can't possibly become president of student council? was that your angle?"

there's a lump in seungmin's throat and no matter how hard he swallows, it just wont go down. he opens his mouth to speak, to defend himself, but his mouth has gone dry and his tongue tastes like sand.

"what the fuck is wrong with you? i thought we were friends? i thought we were best friends, seungmin? how could you air out all my shit like that? for a couple of votes? do you know how pathetic you are? is that how bad you want to be president? you're willing to throw me under the bus to make yourself look good?" you can taste the salty tears pooling in your mouth, snot slowly dripping down and creating a sticky mess on your face.

but you're too angry to care.

your chest hurts, like someone's kicked you to the ground and continuously stomped right in between your ribcage in an attempt to squash your heart. your head hurts from dehydration, and your neck is starting to feel sticky from the sweat that's pooled at the collar of your uniform.

"was this your master plan? you found out i was running against you so you sucked up to me, kept me close so you could get all the dirt? you fucking traitor, i cant believe i actually trusted you." your throat has gone raw from all the yelling, can feel the way your voice starts to come out hoarse.

"y/n, please. i'm so sorry i dont know what i was thinking. i just... when they asked me why they should vote for me my mind blanked and i-" he tries to get everything out as fast as he can, terrified you'll cut him off and start yelling again. but he can't continue because, holy shit, even he doesn't know why the fuck he did what he did.

"and you what? made me look fucking stupid so you rambled on for fifteen minutes about how much of a horrible person i am. god, if thats what you thought of me you shouldve let me know, seungmin! i couldve walked out of your life if i made you that miserable." you're starting to heave, all the air in the room suddenly disappearing.

"no, dont say that y/n. you're the best thing about me, you're my best fr-"

seungmin feels dizzy when your palm lands on his right cheek.

you cant stop sobbing, hands clutching at your chest as you shake your head. "fuck you," you whisper.

seungmin is stunned, frozen in the middle of his room with his mouth slightly open. he says nothing, does nothing as he watches you bend down weakly to grab your bag, sobbing through the motions of slinging it over your shoulders.

but then the panic starts to kick in when you push past him, your fingers reaching for his doorknob. his instincts kick in and hes wrapping his hand around your wrist.

"please don't go, please let's talk about this." his voice cracks. when did he start crying?"

you pause, and for a moment seungmin can feel the weight on his shoulder lift, all hope is not lost.

"its good to know where your priorities lie, seungmin. now i know you'll do anything to get ahead. even if that means hurting me." you tried to sound strong, but your voice comes out broken, a whimper.

"dont speak to me ever again."

you pull your hand away from him.

the weight on his shoulders is suddenly crushing.

and when he gave his acceptance speech in front of the entire student body, he frantically searched for your face. his heart dropped when his eyes locked with yours. eyes that once looked at him with so much warmth, care, and love- stared soullessly back at him.

he knew he fucked up the best thing in his life.

by the time you reach felix's cafe, hyunjin's whining had started to get on your nerves.

"i didn't ask you to carry it," you remind him, reaching for the strap.

he turns his body away from you, clutching your tote tighter against his side. "as if i'd let you carry this!"

yes, he was a gentleman. but a dramatic ass one.

"id honestly rather carry my bag than have to listen to you whine about how heavy it is."

"but it is so heavy! what the fuck did you put in here, rocks?"

you only roll your eyes, pushing open the glass door to the establishment. the tiny bell above the doorframe rings, announcing your arrival to the blonde boy behind the counter.

"oh my god, its soobin." you whisper under your breath, elbowing hyunjin in the ribs. he only looks at you puzzled, an eyebrow raised.

"he's so cute, ohmygod." you roll your eyes, quickly checking your blurry reflection on the glass door.

"not my type," hyunjin shrugs. you ignore him, walking straight to the counter.

"oh, hey soob!" you greet him, quickly shushing hyunjin when he starts to mock your airy tone. "is felix here?" you smile sweetly, trying to tame your hair from the mess caused by the strong winds outside.

"oh yea, he's over there in the booth by the window. he's not alone though," he says, wiping down the counter after spilling a few shaves of ice.

"oh, who's he with?" you ask, already making your way down the counter.

"dunno, the dude looks kinda stressed, to be honest." he shrugs, turning away from you when the bell lets him know he's got another customer to serve.

he's with a guy? he's not on a date is he? no- he wouldve told you. besides, he wouldnt have led hyunjin on either.

hyunjin follows behind you as you make your way towards the booth, heaving dramatically as he swings your tote bag off his shoulders. he crouches behind you, snickering to himself as you both slowly walk to the table, strands of felix's hair peeking out from the opposite bench.

"surprise!" hyunjin jumps from behind you, smile swiftly morphing into a face of shock, his mouth forming a small 'o'.

"holy shit, hyune! what are you doing here?"

your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. that voice-

"s-seungmin, i didnt know you were with felix."

you freeze, jaw dropped as seungmin stands. he clearly hasn't seen you yet, back facing you as he pulls hyunjin in for a hug, squeezing him tightly.

"i thought you were in paris?" felix squeals, sliding out of the booth and joining the three for a big bear hug. he's the one who finally notices you a few feet away, his smile dropping.

"y/n." he breathes, eyes wide.

when seungmin turns around, its almost as if in its slow motion.

he looks almost exactly the same, his hair a little longer, shaggier. his eyes look more tired, little bags under his eyes give away the sleepless nights he's become familiar with. his cheeks slowly turn a light pink, dusting across his nose all the way to the tip of his ears. he's dressed the way you remember him, loose comfy clothes.

he looks good, you think. you shake the thought away.

"oh, y/n." seungmin's voice is small as he locks eyes with you.

fuck, your eyes.

his first time seeing you in three years and he hates how you manage to steal his breath away. you've changed your hair, cut it a little shorter and dyed it lighter. you've pierced your ears, little sunflower earrings peaking from beneath your hair. you look so much more mature, your style has definitely changed.

but your eyes, they shine just as bright as he remembers. good to know his memory hasnt failed him yet.

"i didn't know you were coming, y/n." felix shoots you an apologetic glance, lips pursed and eyes wide.

"but i always come visit you on thursdays." you say flatly.

"yea but-"

"awh look! it's been a while since we've all seen each other, huh?" hyunjin cuts in, trying desperately to ease the tension. seungmin stays standing still, gawking stupidly at you. you try your best to pretend like you cant feel his gaze.

"yea, some of us made that decision on purpose." you mutter under your breath, but you don't miss the way seungmin's eye twitch.

felix smiles, lacing his hand with hyunjin's. "it's really been too long," he whispers, as if only meant for his lover.

"i'd really love if we could all spend some time together." hyunjin's eyes find yours, wide and pleading. "please?"

you offer him a tight lipped smile.

its already so awkward, the way felix and hyunjin slide naturally into the booth, beginning to chatter away. it leaves you and seungmin standing, stubbornly avoiding eye contact.

"do you- do you want to sit near the window, or?" seungmin's voice is small, eyes glued to the floor.

you shrug.

he nods, climbing in anyway. you take a deep breath before you move, reluctantly climbing onto the booth after him. you leave a considerable amount of space between the two of you, and seungmin can't help but roll his eyes.

it's been nearly three years, he thinks. how are you still holding a grudge against him? he clears his throat, about to start some small talk, but something stops him. maybe its the way you deliberately angle your body away from him, or the way you pull your phone out to scroll aimlessly, almost as if you were anticipating his move.

"so, how was paris?" seungmin asks hyunjin instead, shifting his body away from you. fine, be like that. at least hes not immature enough to make things awkward on purpose.

"oh, it was so romantic!" hyunjin exclaims, throwing his arm over felix's shoulder and resting it on the back of their booth. "it was a little depressing, actually. being in such a beautiful place all alone."

"well yea, but it was worth it right? who wouldve thought your one true love was right here all along." you tease, wiggling your eyebrows up and down.

"yea so is yours!" hyunjin teases you back. you only stick your tongue out.

beside you, seungmin tenses. surely, hyunjin isnt implying that he could be your true love, could he? the thought makes chest ache, an odd yearning to move closer to you, to let his fingers "accidentally" brush against yours-

"oh, soobin!" felix giggles, catching on.

seungmin's always hated that guy. from the moment he met soobin thirty minutes ago, he knew something was off. you can't date soobin, he wouldnt know how to take care of you. with his stupid blonde hair, his stupid bunny smile, his stupidly large eyes.

he bets soobin doesnt even know what your favorite type of ramen is, what your go-to snacks are, what your favorite flavor of ice cream is. important things that a lover should know.

things he knows.

oh, where'd that thought come from?

"shut up, you guys!" you hiss, checking to see if soobin is within earshot. you frown at felix, swatting across the table at his chest.

"what do you mean? you guys would look so cute together." hyunjin argues, quickly turning to catch a glimpse of soobin. you hide your face in your hands, profusely shaking your head as you sink deeper into the booth.

seungmin cant help the feeling of jealousy that bubbles deep in his gut. hes half scared hes going to projectile vomit all over the table when you straighten yourself out, sneaking a peek at the blonde boy who busies himself with creating a customer's drink.

"im probably not his type." you mumble.

"you're not." seungmin's shocked at the word that's slipped, hand quickly coming up to cover his mouth in shock.

all eyes are on him, and he can see the way you look at him, with your empty eyes staring right at his face. he hates it when you look at him like that, misses the way your eyes used to shine just for him.

"actually you know what, im getting kinda tired, i think im gonna go home instead." you blurt out, already reaching for your bag.

hyunjin's hand finds yours on the table, and he squeezes gently. "really?"

you swiftly pull your hand away. "yes. really."

"you know what, it doesnt matter. i actually made a reservation for us lixie. wasn't planning on staying long anyways. just wanted to surprise you." hyunjin sings sweetly, brushing away a stand of hair that had fallen on felix's cheek.

"yea, i think i'm gonna head home too." seungmin clears his throat.

just then, the sound of thunder roars outside, clouds a dark grey as they hang low.

fuck. just when you decided not to bring an umbrella.

"yea, i think we better get going. dont wanna get caught in the rain." felix sighs, gathering his stuff and offering hyunjin his hand.

"dont you have spare umbrellas here, lix? maybe we could borrow them. you know, just in case." as if on cue, the rain starts to come down heavily, droplets splattering against the window.

"yea, but there's only two." felix mutters, quickly slipping behind the counter to grab two black umbrellas leaning against the wall. "hyunjin and i can share, and maybe you and y/n-"

"i'm fine." you say stubbornly, arms crossed in front of your chest.

you'd rather die than spend two seconds alone with kim seungmin.

"oh dont say that, you'll get drenched and catch a cold." hyunjin sighs, grabbing one of the umbrellas from felix's hand and offering it to you.

"i'd actually prefer that, thanks." you snap, swatting his hand away.

hyunjin opens his mouth to berate you, but seungmin quickly steps in, reaching for the umbrella. "i'll handle this guys, you go enjoy your dinner."

you fume at that. 'oh he'll handle it? who the fuck does this guy think he is?'

you roll your eyes, pushing past your friends and heading for the door. you stand under the roof, crossing your arms in front of your chest as a cold chill blows past you. hyunjin and felix soon exit as well, wrapped tightly in their coats, hands entwined.

hyunjin steps towards you, pulling you in for a hug despite your protests. "be nice," he whispers, before planting a kiss on your cheek. you make a move to wipe it away, but hesitate when you see hyunjin pout.

"have a nice date." you mumble, watching as the pair huddles close under the umbrella, making their way to felix's car.

you hear the door open, and you hold your breath.

"let me walk you home." seungmin offers, his tone stern. this only ticks you off, wanting nothing more than to defy him despite his offer being in your best interest. your apartment is a good walk away, and the papers in your tote bag risk the chance of getting wet.

"i mean you- you live near my building, right?" he pleads, clicking his umbrella open. he waits patiently for you to respond, standing awkwardly by the sidewalk as you fight with your pride.

you nod, and thats all seungmin needs. he's by your side in an instant, holding the umbrella nearer to your side to ensure that not even an inch of you gets wet from the rain. his left side is already completely soaked, cringing at the feel of his cold hoodie sticking to his skin, but he ignores it. you set a fast pace, and his heart hurts at the though that it's probably because you can't stand to spend more time with him than you need to.

he notices you wince from the weight of your bag, taking a deep breath as you readjust the strap from falling off your shoulder.

"let me carry it," he's being bold, already reaching for the damn thing before you can say anything.

"i dont need any more favors." you snap, the first words you've directly said to him in nearly three years. he's glad you've at least acknowledged his existence now, but your words are sharp.

he lets it go, humming to let you know that he heard you. your pace quickens just a bit, eager to get home, out of the rain, and away from seungmin. your tote swings from the movement, getting caught on a nearby bush and very nearly pulling you back.

you lose your balance and slip, falling flat on your butt on the wet pavement. you try to brake your fall, scratching your palms in the process.

"oh my god, are you okay?" seungmin rushes down, still holding the umbrella over your head. he offers his hand to help you up, but you swat it away.

"i'm fine, alright? god, stop hovering!" you yell, pushing down on your scratched palms to help yourself up. you wince at the pain, brushing off tiny pebbles and bits of gravel from your open wound.

"y/n, you're bleeding." seungmin gawks, hand reaching out to touch yours. you quickly yank it out of his reach, almost as if you were hiding your palm from him.

"yea, thanks for the info." you mumble, trying your best to wipe away the mud that's splattered all over your jeans. seungmin moves quickly while you're preoccupied, crouching down to grab at your tote bag. he ignores your whines of protest, slinging it over his shoulder.

you let out a groan when he refuses to hand it back to you. "fine, whatever. suffer." you grumble, crossing your arms before walking away. seungmin quickly catches up to you, shielding you from the rain.

the walk home is painfully quiet. you're hyperaware of every movement he makes, every time he inhales, the way he clears his throat, as if he's about to say something before he changes his mind. all these emotions swirl angirly inside of you, most of them you cant even begin to comprehend.

because for some reason, you miss him. and it hits you like a truck when the sleeve of his hoodie grazes your elbow, the soft cloth reaching for you. it takes everything in you not to break down and grab for him, to hold him close and strangle him, to wrap your arms around him and hug him so tight he loses breath and dies of suffocation.

he smells the same, like the seungmin you remember who used to walk you home after band practice. the seungmin who held your hand in secret as you walked through the haunted house that one halloween. the seungmin who'd sing to you, alone in his room with his guitar on his lap.

your seungmin.

how could this stranger beside you be your seungmin?

how is it possible that the very same person who knows your deepest darkest secrets, your most embarrassing moments, your dreams and fears- is someone who doesn't know you at all?

seungmin stands stiff beside you as you reach the lobby of your apartment, shaking the little droplets of rain off the umbrella. he opens the door for you, urging you to enter before him.

"i'll have my bag back now, thanks." you say in monotone, eyes not even meeting his.

"let me carry it up." a bold request.

"i'm fine now, you know? im not some damsel in distress in need of saving." you mumble, standing your ground.

seungmin ignores you, already walking towards the elevator. he leaves it on hold, waiting a few seconds before you enter as well, grumbling under your breath.

once you reach your floor, you lead the way to your room, with seungmin trailing slowly behind you. he's shivering a little from the cold, the wet of his jacket only making the draft on the floor feel like ice against his skin. you notice, the little devil on your shoulder pleased at his suffering.

but there's another side of you that softens when you notice the way his teeth chatter, a shudder going down his whole body. god, you're gonna regret even opening your mouth-

"you can come in to warm up a little." you mumble, reaching into your coat pocket to fetch your keys.

seungmin merely blinks at you, unsure if he heard you correctly, or if his imagination was so strong that he managed to picture you saying the thing he so desperately wanted to hear.

but then you walk in, and you leave your door open. for him.

"oh, thanks." seungmin mutters awkwardly, reaching for the cup of tea you offer him. the warmth spreads from his fingertips to his palms, and he's genuinely grateful for the heat it provides. you only hum, grabbing your tote bag from the floor and setting it on the couch.

you pour yourself a cup, sitting directly opposite of the strange boy in your apartment. you blow away some of the steam that rises from the cup, eyes trained on the way the liquid ripples from the force of your breath.

seungmin opens his mouth to speak, but he cant seem to find the words to say what he wants to say. i'm sorry? no thats too lame. i miss you? fuck no, way too forward. how about-

"you're shivering." you point out, staring directly into seungmin's eyes.

his breath hitches. you're looking at him.

actually looking at him.

"oh, i- i didn't even notice." he lies. despite the fact that you turned your heater on, he's fucking freezing. his hoodie is heavy with rain and damp against his skin, sending shivers all the way up his arm and down his spine.

suddenly you stand, retreating into your room without a word. seungmin's confused, unsure if that's his cue that he's overstayed his welcome. but then you come back into the kitchen after a few seconds, holding a large blue hoodie in your arms.

his heart clenches when you unfurl it, revealing the old hoodie he'd given you a month before your graduation. he didnt even know you got it in the mail when he sent it. you werent even talking to him at that point. does that mean you'd gotten his letter too?

"well, i didnt wanna get rid of it, you know? would be a waste." you mumble. you toss it over to him, the cloth landing on his lap with a soft thud. he looks stupidly down at it, brain malfunctioning.

"you should change out of your sweater. you're wet. dripping all over my floor." you grumble, snatching seungmin's empty cup and setting it down on the counter behind him.

"you kept it?" seungmin whispers.

"like i said. didnt want it-"

"you kept it." seungmin turns to look at you.

his deep brown eyes are hopeful, crease in his brows giving away the myriad of emotions swirling deep in his stomach.

you stay silent, back turned towards him. you can feel the tears that pool behind your eyelids, threatening to fall as you hold yourself over the sink, turning your head completely away from seungmin. you hear the sound of fabric rustling, and your cheeks warm at the thought of him undressing in the middle of your kitchen.

the sound of wood scratching against your kitchen tiles is loud, the abruptness of seungmin standing up nearly sending the chair backwards.

"smells like you." he whispers. he cant trust his voice.

he takes a step towards you, your back still towards him.

"i think its time for you to go." you hiccup, a steady stream of tears flowing down your cheeks.

"look at me." seungmin begs, taking another step.

"you should go now, seungmin."

"look me in the eye when you tell me. then i will."

he's getting bold, standing right behind you, his chest pressing the back of your head. you whirl around, ready to yell at him, to scream at him, to slap him, to furl your hands into fists and beat against his chest.

but he's quicker, wrapping both his arms around your shoulders and pressing you close to him, tucking your head under his chin. he holds you like this for so long you figure its been hours. you stain the front of his chest with your tears, hands weakly wrapping around him, fingers curling into the fabric.

he still feels like seungmin.

your seungmin.

"you kept it. you got my letter too, didn't you sweetheart?" he whispers, as if afraid raising his voice would ruin the spell.

you sob violently against his chest, holding him tighter against you.

"i meant every single word," he squeezes you tightly, "i'm so sorry."

"you're an asshole, kim seungmin." you sob, shaking your head.

"i know, i know. i'm so sorry." he shushes you, smoothing down your hair, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head.

"do you know how much it hurts?" you sob, pulling away from him. "i see you almost everyday. you have the face of someone who knows every single thing about me, but you're a complete stranger to me." you sob into your hands, pouring your heart out to him.

"i know," he sniffles, wiping away the snot under your nose with his free hand.

"no, you dont. stop fucking saying that." you pull your face away from him, pushing his hand down. "you were my best friend and you- now its like i dont know you and-" you're hiccuping, heaving, out of breath as you break down.

"i'm sorry, sweetheart, okay? i'm so so sorry. i was so stupid,"

"well yea!" you yell, falling into him when he opens his arms up to you.

he chuckles dryly at that, holding you tightly against him, as if terrified you'd change your mind and kick him out of your home. and he cant bear to see it, the way you look up at him with tears in your eyes, bloodshot red and full of resentment. he wants to fix it so bad, misses the way you'd hold softness in your eyes reserved especially for him.

"i'll make it right," he promises, nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head. "i'll prove it to you, okay? i promise."

you sniffle, shaking your head. "i- i dont know,"

"hey, look at me." seungmin pulls you away from him, bending slightly so you're eye to eye. "i promise, i'll do everything i can to gain back your trust. i just miss you so much, y/n. i- i really fucked up and to this day it remains my greatest regret."

you stay quiet, eyes flickering between either of his. "even more than when you shaved your head that one summer?" you joke weakly.

seungmin can feel his heart pounding at the sight of your small smile. he thinks he sees your eyes twinkle. "yes, sweetheart. even more than that. i just... please. give me another chance. give me a chance to make it right with you, y/n."

you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. seungmin's steadily crying, wiping the tears away with the back of his hand as he looks at you, expectantly. you stay quiet for so long seungmin can hear the blood rushing all the way to his head, going dizzy with anticipation and fear.

"you'll have to buy me lots of gummies, you know?" you mumble, looking up at him.

fuck. he'd buy you all the gummies in the world if it meant you'd keep looking at him with those eyes.

the words on your screen have started to blur altogether, vision hazy as you mindlessly scroll through the hundreds of pages of readings and notes youve been reviewing for the past...... god, was there even a time you weren't studying? even the music playing through your headphones have lost its appeal, sounding more and more like radio static.

you jolt out of your trance at the sound of books slamming against the surface of your table, which shakes under the weight. you quickly pull your headphones off and look up at the intruder, who smiles sheepishly at you.

"sorry, did i wake you?" seungmin asks, pulling up a chair beside you.

"no, you saved me." you groan, stretching your whole body until your limbs start to vibrate.

seungmin only laughs, sinking deep into his chair. he takes his cap off and runs his fingers through his hair. he scoots a little closer to you, then bends the other way to retrieve a little brown paper bag.

"i brought you breakfast." he says, rolling his eyes at the way you pout at him.

"seungmin, you didnt!" you gasp, receiving the tall cup of iced coffee with eager hands.

"i did this for myself, actually." he claims, pulling out some warm bread to share with you. "dont want you grumpy all morning. what time did you come in? you look like shit. no offense."

you shrug, taking a long sip of the cold drink.

"wait, weren't you wearing that last night when i left? y/n.. dont- oh my god, dont tell me you spent the whole night here?"

you stare blankly back at him. "our final exam is in three days."

"do you plan on staying awake until then?" seungmin bites sarcastically, and you kick his chair.

"i have to atleast get a 97 on his exam or else i wont finish his class with high honors." you whine, running your fingers through your hair in frustration.

you're so much like him, seungmin thinks. he, too, is familiar with sacrificing his happiness for a perfect grade. except now he has to work just as hard as you just to pass. the thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

"you have to get some sleep or you wont finish his class at all." he threatens, staring down at you.

you only frown, but you dont need that much convincing, as you're already closing your laptop shut, scooting your chair just that much closer to seungmin's so your arm grazes his.

"wake me up in thirty minutes." you grumble, linking your arm with his and resting your head on his shoulder. he raises it a little to grant you comfort, unbothered by the fact that his arm will inevitably start to tense and ache.

"sweet dreams," he hums, discreetly kissing the top of your head as he pretends to look at the empty chair next to you.

ten minutes pass, and you're already snoring. your fair falls in a mess in front of your face, and seungmin has to hold back from sweeping your hair away in fear that he'd accidentally wake you up. he cant help but feel his chest swell at the feeling of you leaning on him, he feels like a highschooler high with giddiness, trying hard not to vibrate in his seat.

screw the readings, he can barely keep you out of his head. this past month has been an absolute dream to him, spending every waking moment by your side. treating you to almost every single meal, keeping you company as you run your errands, crashing at yours to study and just goof around.

this is how he remembers you- full of life, playful, just a little mischievous. so positively alluring that seungmin feels himself falling in love with you. it hit him like a brick that night you passed out with papers strewn across your bed, your limbs tangling with his. he didnt sleep a wink that night, too busy studying your face. you looked so peaceful, he remembers, burying your face in the crook of his neck and holding him tightly in your sleep.

he looks down at you now, cant stop the smile from spreading across his face. he'll let you sleep for a little longer, he decides. he doesnt care if you get upset with him (you will), you deserve the rest. seungmin's about to finally clear his head of you and actually get some studying done when he locks eyes with a tall blonde from across the room.

god, of all the people.

"oh, hey! seungmin, right? felix's friend?" soobin says in a low voice as he approaches the table.

"yea, soobin right?" stupid fucking name.

"yea. hey- is that y/n?" he nods towards your sleeping figure.

ew. stop looking at her. "oh, yea. she passed out."

"damn, she's really studious, huh? ran into her late last night when she was here all alone." soobin sighs, frowning at you.

seungmin wants to puke at the thought of you spending time alone with soobin. he wants to ask him so many questions like- how long did you talk to her for? what did you guys talk about? how much can i pay you to leave her alone?

"yea, shes hardworking. i admire her for that." seungmin smiles fondly.

"oh... wait- are.. are you guys, like, a thing? or something?" soobin takes a step back and seungmin's breath hitches in his throat.

"cuz if you guys are, i can totally back off, you know?"

seungmin stays silent, weighing his options. he could lie and say you guys were dating, but if you found out, you'd probably hate him and ignore him for the rest of his life and he'd rather die than let that happen. on the other hand, if he tells the truth, soobin would obviously try to pursure you. and he knows you have a little crush on him too.

seungmin bites his lower lip, then shakes his head. "nah, we're just friends." seungmin can feel some bile rise in his throat. not for long, he thinks cockily.

"oh, cool cool. uhm, if you could do me a favor, man? just... i dunno ask her to go to the cafe again this week? maybe i'll work up the courage to ask her out or something." soobin chuckles, cheeks turning a deep red.

seungmin can only nod. finally soobin offers him a small smile and leaves. there's a heavy feeling in seungmin's stomach, almost as if he'd been punched in the gut. he cant even begin to imagine you dating someone else, in fear that he'd just break down right then and there.

its kinda pathetic, really. you're not even his yet and he's already thinking of all the ways he can get soobin to leave you alone. he wants to print a large sign that says "do not approach, angry guard dog will bite" over your head, just to keep everyone else away from you.

god, since when was he this possessive?

he spends the next forty minutes thinking of ways to get you to be his. and when you finally stir awake, the first thing that seungmin says is-

"we should stop going to felix's cafe."

obviously, you dont listen.

you go to felix's cafe anyways, except you're always alone. seungmin doesn't need to know where you go every thursday afternoon while he's in class, anyways. he never told you why he wanted you to stop coming here, but you have a hunch. a tall, blonde, stupidly handsome hunch.

"y/n!" soobin greets you warmly, leaning over the counter to get a better look at your face.

"hey, soob." your cheeks warm.

you know that nothing is going on between you and seungmin, but you can't help but feel guilty doing exactly the opposite of what he asked of you. but something's shifted the past few days you've been spending with seungmin, almost as if you're seeing each other in this new light. you push this thought to the back of your head like you always do, telling soobin your order and waiting for felix at your booth.

by the time soobin brings the food to you, your phone rings.

fuck. its seungmin.

"hello?"

"hey, my classes ended a little early today. where are you?"

"oh, uhm im-"

oh my god lie faster.

"yea?" you can hear him huffing, obviously walking around campus, probably looking for you.

"at the library." you spit, looking outside the window, frozen with paranoia. lying to him feels so so wrong.

"its wednesday, y/n. library's closed."

oh my fucking god, lie better.

"i went to meet felix." you finally admit, shrinking into your seat.

you hear seungmin sigh. "is he out already?"

"no," you mumble.

"so you're alone?"

you hum.

"im on my way."

he hangs up, and you let out a sigh.

finally, felix barges out from the kitchens and quickly clocks out, throwing his apron over his head and hanging it on the hook by the door. he smiles when he sees you, nearly leaping over the counter to get to you.

"hello, my dear y/n." felix hums, kissing you quickly on the cheek and settling on the booth opposite from you.

"hello, my dear lixie." you hum, pushing a plate of waffles in front of him. "for you, your usual."

felix groans with hunger, fixing his plate with a heavy load of syrup and a huge dollop of butter. "so, how are things? any important new updates this week?"

you shrug, taking a sip of your iced coffee. "nothing new, really..... except, i guess...."

felix hums, urging you to continue.

you let out a deep breath, shaking your head. "i think... i think something's going on between seungmin and i."

you bite the inside of your cheek at felix's reaction, mouth agape as he stares blankly at you. it takes him a moment to process before he finally swallows the food in his mouth and he lets out an evil giggle. "oh, this is... oh, hyunjin owes me so much money!"

"you prick!" you gasp, swatting at felix's arm. "you guys bet on us?"

"well, i mean, come on! it was sooo obvious, i mean, it was only a matter of time, you know?" felix shrugs, cutting up another piece of his waffle.

"no, i do not know!" you squeal, piercing the piece with your fork and stuffing it into your mouth, ignoring your friend's whines of protest. "you guys thought seungmin and i would end up together?"

"well yea, everyone with eyes thought so! come on, y/n. he's looked at you like a lovesick puppy since highschool." felix rolls his eyes. "you guys were always together, and he knew you better than all of us combined. not to mention how lifeless you both were the two years you werent talking. i mean seriously, it was like hanging out with a couple of zombies."

your cheeks warm. "but- im still not even sure of how he feels about me."

"wow. love does make you oblivious as fuck, or whatever they say." felix shakes his head, chugging down his vanilla milkshake before he suddenly remembers something.

"does that mean you're gonna let him help you grade the papers for extra credit?"

you freeze. "what?"

"yea, seungmin said he needs to convince you or else he'd fail, or something. you guys talked about it already, or?"

your breath falters, and your brows furrow. "seungmin's failing a class?"

felix swallows. he cant shake off the feeling that he said something he shouldnt have. but he could never keep a secret from you.

"well- yes. his prof said he needed to convince you to help him get extra credit."

"wait, when was this?" you ask, voice stern.

oh, felix is soooo in deep shit. "uhm, like the day you guys started talking again."

your heart drops to your ass. surely, thats not the whole reason why he was so desperate to talk to you again, right? but you cant shake away the feeling, remembering back to highschool when he'd done almost the exact same thing.

but he promised. he promised it'd be different this time, right?

"seungmin told you that he needed to convince me to let him grade some papers?" you clarify.

"yea."

"and what did you say?"

"i uhm- i told him to like, turn on his charm or something along those lines."

you scoff in disbelief.

felix is going to hell. "but, that was my advice before i knew it was you! i just... i know seungmin needed some help and he'd do anything to get a good grade so i figured he was extra desperate because he was borderline failing and i was just so shocked and-"

"felix, just stop talking." you mumble, leaning back against the booth.

felix only nods, wringing his hands in nervousness. he opens his mouth to speak, but you shoot him a glare. he falls silent again, nervously gnawing on his bottom lip.

your mind's racing, going 100 miles an hour as you go through every moment youve had with seungmin this past month. obviously, this favor is not the only reason he tried hard to convince you to talk to him again, right?

but theres a small voice inside of you, the one who remembers the harsh pain seungmin caused that's screaming, telling you to cut him off, shut him out before he can hurt you all over again.

by the time seungmin pulls open the glass door, you've made up your mind.

"he-"

"this is the last time i let you break my heart, kim seungmin." you say firmly, brushing past him.

seungmin can only stand, frozen. his heart drops to his stomach, head going fuzzy as his gaze lands on felix. he opens his mouth to say something, but he cant find the words.

"what did you say?" seungmin asks.

"im sorry, i didnt know, i thought-"

seungmin's rushing out, throwing the door wide open as he runs out into the street. he can feel his heart pumping as he pushes through crowds of people, racing towards you. he can hear his blood rushing, catching sight of your yellow sundress as you're pushing open your apartment building. seungmin's never been a runner, hell, he nearly failed PE in highschool when he was forced to run laps a whole semester. but right now? he feels like the fucking flash.

he yells for you, ignoring the stitch in his side as he manages to somewhat catch up to you. by the time he throws open the heavy metal door to your apartment complex, the elevator doors are closing, your eyes locking with his.

"fuck." seungmin heaves, bending down to rest his hands on his knees. he needs to reach you before you lock him out of your room. he knows how stubborn you can be, you could probably ignore his pleas and incessant knocking for days if you had to.

seungmin gags, shaking his limbs before he bolts up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, pushing his legs to work faster. the backpack on his shoulders is heavy but he could care less. he cant risk losing you again.

sweat flows freely from his forehead by the time he reaches your floor, and by some miracle, he catches you walking down the hall.

"y/n!" he heaves, sliding his bag off his shoulders and leaving it right there in the hall. "please-"

"go away, seungmin." your voice cracks, digging for your keys in your bag.

he shakes his head, jogging up to you before you can close the door in his face. he sticks his shoe in the closing gap, groaning when it gets stuck between your door and the frame.

"what the fuck?" you yell, backing up as seungmin forces his way into your apartment, closing the door behind him.

"no you- you have to hear me out." he's panting, vision going blurry. jesus christ, he was out of shape.

"you want to talk about it?" you challenge, shrugging your coat off and throwing it on the floor.

"yes." he heaves, leaning against the wall.

"okay, lets talk about it. is it true that you wanted to convince me to help you get extra credit?" your hands are crossed in front of you. seungmin's admittedly a little scared.

"yes, but-"

"but what? i wasnt supposed to find out?"

"no! that was before-"

"before what?" you take a step closer, crowding him in.

"before i realized i was in love with you!" seungmin yells, hiding his face in his hands.

you're silent, expression stoic. "you're sick." you whisper, unsure of yourself. your heart is racing, and you take a step back. "dont... dont say that."

"but its the truth!" seungmin's desperate know, tears welling in his eyes. it wasnt supposed to happen like this. he was supposed to take you out, confess his feelings for you properly, but now its all ruined and rushed and- oh, when he gets his hands on lee felix-

"the truth?" you scoff, shaking your head at him. "how am i supposed to believe you? with everything that... that's happened?"

"you're going to have to trust me." seungmin steps forward, hesitant. he can see the doubt in your eyes and it makes him sick. he'd run up 10 flights of stairs if it meant you'd never look at him like that again.

"trust me when i say that i was a fucking fool in highschool for hurting you, and i spend every day thinking about how if i could, i would go back in time to change everything." he takes another step forward, backing you against the door to your bedroom.

"that i wasted two and a half years of my life by not spending them with you, knowing that you were so near me, that i could easily walk up to you but i was too embarrassed, too scared you'd shut me out." seungmin's baring his soul out, but its too late to stop.

"that i thought about you every single day, thought about what could have been if i wasnt so stupid. that ive spent the last few months doing everything i can to prove to you that i would never ever hurt you like that ever again. but with you im just so stupid, i feel like im always doing the wrong things because youre all up in my head taking up all the space and i fucking love that i cant think about anything but you."

you can only stare up at him. you can see the way his gaze flickers away from you, too nervous to maintain eye contact. he reaches out to you, fingers hesitantly brushing against the back of your hand. testing. you pull away from his touch to wipe away the tear that's managed to slip away, clearing your throat. he tilts his head, hands settling firmly on your waist.

"i love you, y/n. please, you have to believe me."

he's waiting for you to say something, anything. he's never poured his heart out like that before, the silence eating away at him as he slowly spirals, overthinking every word he's said.

but then you relax in his hold, pressing your chest subtly against his. and he knows there's hope.

"are you really failing a class?" you whisper, and seungmin can only laugh.

"that's your concern?" he leans down, dragging the tip of his nose against your cheek. he inhales deeply, nuzzling against you.

"well, yes." you gently push him away by the shoulder, looking up at him. "i cant have my boyfriend failing any of his classes."

seungmin smiles, absolutely melting when you wrap your arms around his neck. "oh yea? does that mean you'll let me in on the extra credit?"

"you are on thin, thin ice, seungmin." you warn, reaching up to finally press your lips against his. seungmin absolutely melts, letting out a low groan at your taste. one hand on your waist, seungmin leans into you, reaching behind you to open your bedroom door. you gasp when you lose balance, recovering quickly when seungmin walks you backwards, never once pulling away from you until the back of your knees hit your bed.

you let out a squeal when you fall back, seungmin expertly finding his way in between your legs. "tell me you want me," seungmin commands in between kisses, hands roaming up and down your sides.

"i do. i want you." you breathe, pushing off seungmin's jacket.

"yea?" seungmin hums, pulling back to bunch up your dress until it sits just below your ribcage. he leans back, simply staring down at you with stars in his eyes.

"stop staring at me." you mumble shyly, turning your head to the side.

"dont want to," seungmin hums, quickly throwing his shirt off into a random corner of your room. "ill look at my girl as long as i like." he leans down, capturing your lips with his.

"your girl, hmm?" you hum, smiling as he kisses his way up your stomach, fingers gripping onto the hem of your dress. your breath hitches when his fingers brush against your under boob. he smiles against your skin, looking up at you.

"aren't- arent you going to take my dress off?" you whisper into the air, and seungmin stops his teasing kisses against your hip.

"well, i was going to but then.." he kisses over the fabric, planting a wet kiss in between your breasts before latching onto your neck for a playful bite. "then i thought about how i want to fuck you in it and then take you out to dinner after."

your cheeks grow red, lightly slapping his arm at his vulgarity. "doesnt that sound better, baby?" seungmin hums, playing with the hem of your underwear.

your breath goes shaky as seungmin continues to toy with you, pads of his fingers lightly pressing against your clit from over your underwear, providing the littlest bit of friction, but enough to drive you crazy.

"seungmin, please-"

"please, what?" he teases, hips pressing into your thigh. you can feel him through his sweats, hard and aching against you. he begins to grind against you, gentle enough to tease you and get him off at the same time.

"need you to touch me." you huff, frustrated.

"i am, baby." seungmin chuckles, pads of his fingers pressing against you firmly, trailing down until he teases your entrance, soiling the fabric of your underwear with how wet you are.

"you know what i mean," you whine.

seungmin only hums, lowering his sweats just enough to free his cock. he pulls your underwear to the side, exposing your cunt to the cold air of the room, making you shiver.

"you're so wet, baby. bet i could slide right in, huh?" seungmin teases you with his tip, tapping it firmly against your clit and trailing down to coat himself in you.

"god, just put it in, minnie." you sigh, grabbing at his shoulders.

"minnie?" seungmin smirks, nosing against your jaw. "i like that."

he finally presses in, slowly making sure you feel every inch of him. you wince a bit at the pain, and seungmin notices with a coo. he pulls your hands away from his shoulders to hold against your bed, fingers intertwining with yours.

"i'm sorry, does it hurt?" he coos, slowly pulling out to thrust back in.

"a little, its okay. kiss me."

seungmin obeys, leaning down to kiss you sweetly as he starts at an even pace. he's slow with it, stroking so deep you can feel him in your throat. it feels intimate this way, with his hands in yours, his chest pressed firmly against you. he pants into your mouth, kissing you when you start to moan too loudly.

"tell me you love me." seungmin sighs, resting his forehead against yours.

you nod, "i love you. love you minnie."

seungmin lets out a groan at that, pulling one hand away to sneak in between your bodies, tips of his fingers finding your clit. he starts to move them in circles, your high fast approaching.

"i'm gonna cum," you whine, squeezing his hand.

"cum with me, baby. please," he begs, holding you so tight against him you feel the air knocked out of you with every thrust. you cum with a whine of his name, fingers digging into the back of his hand. his hips stutter before he presses as deep as he can into you, groaning loudly as he mouths at your neck.

you're both sweaty and sticky, but seungmin pays no mind as he collapses completely on top of you, wrapping his limbs around you. he looks up at you when his breathing starts to even, a cheeky grin on his face.

"what," you laugh, pushing him away by the shoulder when he leans in to kiss you.

he loves the sound of your happiness, basking in it as he shifts closer to pull you into his side. you happily comply, ignoring the mess in between your legs in favor of cuddling up to your lover.

"i really do love you." seungmin reassures, and you roll your eyes.

"i love you too. really." you hum, kissing his shoulder. "now clean me up, and dont even think about falling asleep."

seungmin groans, rolling off your bed to reach for a towel to wet. "but we have plenty of time before dinner. we can nap!"

"no, i will nap." seungmin frowns, walking into your bathroom and turning the faucet on.

"and what do you expect me to do?" seungmin says once he returns to the room, eyebrows raised.

"you, will check all the papers left in my bag." seungmin only laughs, leaning down to wipe in between your thighs, careful to get every drop.

"then can we get dinner?" he asks, pout on his lips.

"yes. your treat."

"well, duh."

as you close your eyes and start to drift off to sleep, seungmin only watches, hunched over on your bedroom floor, hundreds of papers scattered in front of him. he prays he'll be able to get it together and pry his eyes away from you to actually get some work done.

he seriously doubts it.

taglist: comment if you want to be added or removed!

@pochamin22 @bee123sthings @ohnocent @hyunchannie017 @r1n4 @heluvschibi @kpop-obsessed-all-the-time @elizalabs3 @uknowme-not @bee123sthings @n034sy

[eddiernunson]

Really Drives Me Mad | Bfs Dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+

Master List | Next Part

My best friend tells me that he's a keeper

I really like Dylan a lot But Dylan's dad He really drives me mad With his faded tats Sings in a cover band Yeah he's super hot with his ripped dad bod Oh my, oh my god I like Dylan a lot But oh god I love Dylan's dad

I know y'all weren't expecting this... Well neither was I. It like invaded my mind and begged me to write it. (this is the dirtiest thing ive ever written.)

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: You've been dating Dylan Munson for a little bit, and it's going well, or at least you feel like it is. Despite everything right with Dylan you can't help but feel uneasy...then you meet Eddie Munson, his dad... and find yourself wet at the sight of him. (reader is in her 20s, Eddie probably in his 40s or so)

Warnings: masturbation (both), voyeurism (both), lot of perv!Eddie, reader ends up cheating, just some dirty stuff. MINORS DNI.

As you sit cross legged on your best friend’s garage couch mindlessly watching some Netflix while she took another hit, your phone dings, a text message you’ve been waiting on.

“Ooh, speak of the devil.” She teases you, putting the bong aside to peek at what Dylan texted you. You roll your eyes at her, answering him to pick you up in the morning. “What did he say?”

Her eyebrows were wagging over-exaggeratingly, and you narrow your eyes. “Just asked when I wanted to get picked up for our trip to the beach tomorrow.”

“Are you excited?” She asks, her voice suggestive and you can hear more excitement in her voice alone than you felt about the trip.

“Yes.” You lie to her, because if you told the truth, you knew you’d hear about it.

Dylan was a good guy. You met him through a singles mixer you went to for shits and giggles and ended up meeting him. He had no business being there, his league was not the type of girl to go to a Fajita style mixer even for laughs. He was so overwhelmingly better looking than every other guy in that mixer that scooping him up before anyone dug their claws in was the logical thing to do.

It wasn’t that you didn’t find him hot.

Dylan ended up being almost everything you said you were looking for. Stable. Ready for commitment. Willing to go the extra mile.

He was stable in every way it takes most men into their 30s to figure out.

You knew he was a rare find as someone dating in your 20s. Yet, there was just something missing.

It wasn’t anything you could describe, and each time you had expressed the feeling people seem to dismiss it, claiming it stemmed from every failed relationship you’ve had. Logically, you should be head over heels over this man who is so sweet and willing to do the most.

But the feeling just nagged at your skull.

For the sake of not feeling guilty and seeing that same bug-eyed expression on your best friend you lie. It felt weird to have to lie to her just to seem grateful for what life has provided to you on a silver platter. So, until an actual reason for this hesitancy presents itself, the dates and the heavy make out sessions and whatnot will continue.

The ego boost he provides when he sends you drooling emojis when you send a bikini selfie for what you’re wearing the next day certainly doesn’t help your case.

“I’m so glad you found him, he’s so sweet.” She mentions off-hand.

You nod, gritting your teeth.

-

Dylan is on time, as always, prompt and proper to pick you up from your apartment. He texts to let you know he was outside, and you grab your beach bag of snacks and your towel and do a final assessment in the mirror.

Cute pink bikini that hung by a string sitting high on your hips, barely hidden by the long cut out dress you wore. Your bag matched the bikini, and you wore some tiny sunnies to put the whole look together. If you’re gonna date someone as good looking might as well look the part.

As you approached his chevy truck he was animatedly bug eyed while looking at you, his brown eyes popping out of their socket while he drummed his steering wheel. His zest and energy for life was always so contagious. You smiled at him, your cheeks burning as you climbed into the passenger seat.

“Hi baby.” He greets you, kissing you softly. You find yourself grinning into it.

He pulls out onto the main road for the forty-five-minute trip to the lake most people go for a weekend getaway. About five minutes down the road, Dylan pats his cargo shorts down real quick and grunts in disappointment.

“What?”

“Forgot the parking pass for the beach lot. I literally got that for fifteen dollars so I wouldn’t have to pay twenty at the till.” He explains, making a sudden left turn.

You’ve been to his house before, and he usually takes you there when his dad is either at work or just not home. You weren’t sure why, his dad seemed like a decent dude.

(From what you’ve heard anyway)

Maybe, like you, he wasn’t ready for meeting the parents yet.

“Oh, I think my dad will be home around now. Hope that’s okay.” He says, as if you had just spoken aloud. “I think it was time for you to meet him, anyways.”

Shit. Nope. He was ready. You were no where ready for him to meet your mom, who already loved him just from your best friend’s descriptions.

“Oh. Sure.” You glance down to your outfit, something worn not knowing you were about to meet parents. “Are you sure I’m dressed for that though?”

“My dad has met girlfriends in worse positions.” Dylan laughs. “Trust me. This is a better meeting.”

This helps you very little.

Five minutes down the road he pulls into the starter home he and his dad have been living in his whole life, a sweet little bungalow with three rooms and two bathrooms. It was by no means anything to cough at, certainly impressive for a mechanic, but Dylan seemed to behave incredibly sheepishly every time.

Dylan pulls in, and your heart races as you see his dad’s truck in the driveway. As Dylan gets out to open your door, he can feel your nervousness. “Can I just stay here?” You ask him, unsure why he needed you to go in for a pass in the first place.

“Oh I promise he doesn’t bite.” He jokes.

You give him a weak smile, holding his hand as you walked to the front door. The door doesn’t need a key, swinging open and the bright sunlight giving you both a shadow against the hardwood flooring. Dylan walks in, calling for his dad’s name. You squeeze his hand tighter out of nervousness. Eventually the sounds of his creaky steps are heard from the kitchen where Dylan is scanning for his pass, signalling his father coming down the steps.

You were facing towards the stove across the island counter, watching Dylan go through the drawers for it.

“Woah, thought you’d be halfway to the beach by now, you were so damn excited.” You hear his dad’s voice, and there’s something about it, his tone leaning towards a tease that enticed you to turn your head towards him.

Your jaw dropped. Or it didn’t. Certainly felt like a moment for your mouth to open in amazement. In a split second you knew where Dylan got his good looks, and it was only a fraction of how mouth watering his dad was.

He wonders in with sweatpants low on his hips wearing a band t-shirt and his long curly hair was wet from a shower. As he shuffled by to the fridge, the scent of aftershave invaded your nose and somehow it just went straight to your core. He was certainly fit even for a dad, slight dad bod but nothing to poke at, you could tell he worked with his hands.

“Forgot my pass.” He mutters, looking through another drawer.

“I saw it this morning, so I put it in your bag as you were heading out.” His dad mentions off hand, getting the ingredients for a bowl of cereal out. As he lifted his hands over his head revealing a tattoo on his tummy and the treasure trail saliva entered your mouth like water bursting through a man-made dam.

“Seriously?” Dylan dead pans. He turns to you, and you switch your glance to seem innocent like you haven’t been eye-fucking his dad. “I’m gonna go double check it’s in there. Just stay here be right back.” He kisses you on the forehead and leaves without giving you a chance to protest.

“Nice, to meet you, by the way.” He says in a gruff voice as he pours the sugary cereal into the bowl.

“Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Munson.” Your voice sounded strained; you were hoping you were just imagining it.

He lets out a noise in disgust, his face scrunching up comically. “Oh god. Don’t call me that. Call me Eddie. Never Mr. Munson. Gross.”

You smile closed mouthed at his genuine disgust for it, and Eddie presents a smile as if your laughter was the long-term goal. “Nice to meet you, Eddie.”

“Much better.” He praises you, and it might be the closest thing you’ll ever get to the kind of praise you wanted from him, the kind where you find yourself on your knees in the kitchen, but you happily accepted it. Any crumbs you would happily take.

He could spit on you, and you would thank him.

Oh. That’s…new.

That wasn’t something you felt with Dylan at all. If Dylan had decided to spit on your face during sex, you would call the police. It would turn you off so fast you would kick him off you.

“Going to Lake Maureen?” He asks you, supposedly making small talk.

“Nope.” You tell him. “Museum.”

Eddie tilted his head, and from his shoulder’s shaking and the slow smile you could tell he was laughing.

“Yes.” You affirm.

“Where did you meet again?” Eddie asks as he puts away the milk, his voice seeming to extend from a thought he doesn’t share.

“Oh, a mixer.”

“Not the church mixer.” Eddie tilts his head, seeming genuinely fearful it was the truth.

You confirm that yes, it was the church mixer.

Eddie grabs a mug to pour the coffee you hadn’t noticed had he put on. As his hands cup a graphic mug you couldn’t see the comic for, you see the silver rings on his fingers and if your core wasn’t heated up before, it certainly was now.  He leans forward, taking a sip of straight black coffee for a minute. “Sweetheart. You’re far too pretty to be going to a goddamn mixer. No wonder he was so fucking enthralled when he got home that day.”

You feel your face heat up at the nickname followed by him calling you pretty. Your thighs squeeze together as you attempt to force your heart back into your chest where it belonged. Somehow your extremities were freezing, and all the heat was centered in your pussy, just soaked from his presence alone.

He could tell you weren’t taking the compliment seriously. “Seriously. If he fucks it up and you end up single again no more fucking mixers for you.”

“Not like I had any more choices.” You defend yourself, not knowing why his insistence turned you on so much.

Eddie rolls his eyes as if he didn’t believe you. His mouth opens to tell you something, and the sound of Dylan bursting through the front door seems to cut him off. “Oh, you should’ve told me, we could’ve been almost there by now. Come on, baby! See you dad!”

The door slams, and you guessed you were supposed to follow him. “Um, you were gonna say something?” and the mystery is just too much for you.

“Oh. Was I? Totally forgot.” Eddie shrugs, putting his coffee mug down, having chugged that entire cup within the conversation. “Have fun.”

He scoops another spoonful of sugary cereal in his mouth, the dimples on his face prominent but the smile devious.

That smile would haunt you for the next twelve hours.

-

The trip with Dylan was alright, he swore up and down it was the best trip and it just brought you both closer as a couple. You probably would’ve agreed. A trip to the beach with Dylan Munson sounded enticing and sexy and adventurous for the most part until you met his dad.

Now thoughts of his flexed forearms has he gripped the counter while talking to you, wet hair smelling beautifully of the musk shampoo he used invaded your mind. Dylan fingering you on the beach under your skirt was yes, smoking hot, but as you imagined a certain someone else doing the same it brought you to your orgasm much quicker and much harder. Dylan figured he must be doing something right.

Guilt evaded you as you knew what the hell you were doing was wrong. You now had an excuse to get rid of him, you were far more into his dad than you ever were into him, and it should’ve been a sign.

But if you broke up with him now, you wouldn’t be able to see his dad. Yet as you took a walk down the shoreline into a cave and your eyes close picturing certain ringed fingers gripping your hips as Dylan did it made the sneaking off and the public sex that much hotter.

Seems you were sluttier than your initial sex life led you to believe. Turns out, you just haven’t met a man you wanted to be slutty for. Public sex seemed fun in theory, always so nerve wrecking in practice.

Public sex with Eddie felt like you wanted to get caught with him, fully enjoying his cock and letting people see. Voyeurism mixed with public embarrassment was suddenly hot and you got so into it that Dylan expressed how excited he was to fuck you on the next hike you took together, something he has expressed much interest in, but you denied bashfully every time.  

Because with Dylan sex wasn’t all encaptivating. Sure he could make you cum, but you were never ready to rip off his clothes in a heartbeat. The moment you saw Eddie your fingers started to itch for that damn low sitting sweatpants for them to droop just a little…bit…more.

Dylan drops you off with a romantic wet kiss, and you walk into the door of your apartment in a daze. Before you can even think about it, you find yourself on your bed, your skirt around your ankles and two of your fingers down your bikini bottoms.

You start to take them off but there’s a voice you picture saying, “No, no. Keep them on like the whore you are.” It was not Dylan’s.

You listened to it, pretending to rub your clit in front of him watching. You could see a wild eye on his face, picturing him not being able to touch you driving him mad. The heat that expands into your pussy from that thought alone drives your hips for more friction. “Oh so fucking needy, yeah?” You imagine him saying to you, and fuck, you couldn’t not think of him being good at dirty talk. “Need this cock, don’t ya?”

The image of him slowly working the elastic waist-band of his sweatpants made you moan aloud, needily grinding on your own fingers.

“Too damn bad. You’re just gonna have to make yourself cum, like the slut you are.”

The slight foreplay you were accidentally given all day through your own imagination mixed with how fucking wet you were brought you to a quick orgasm, fluttering in your extremities as you continued imagining the wild eyes on Eddie’s face or the firm voice as he didn’t give you a choice on your dating pool.

This was the first truly earth-shattering orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life. One that you truly had to recover from…and it was from just picturing this man.

Something in you wanted the real thing, and you were terrified of how willing you were to go through with it, and equally as terrified of going through life wondering what it could’ve been like

If sex with Eddie Munson was as good as the orgasm you gave yourself, you might have to be Dylan’s stepmom, because you just found what was missing.

-

“Hey baby.” Dylan says, welcoming you as he opens the door.

You hold your pillow and a duffle bag sits on your shoulder for a sleepover, and the shorter shorts with a tank top you wear signalling you were ready for a night in. As you pass by him, Dylan gives out a low whistle to how well your ass is shown off in the pair of shorts you wore. They were so well fitting he could see you were either wearing a thong or nothing, but you could tell it turned him on. While this gave you a confidence boost, he wasn’t the target audience.

When you requested the sleepover Dylan warned you his dad would be there. Good. You assured him that would be fine. That was the goal.

“Hi, sweetheart!” Eddie calls down to you, and the smile invades your face before you could stop it.

“Hi, Mr. Munson!” You call out, and the sound of gagging is heard. “I meant Eddie!”

“Oh, I forgot he gets everyone to call him by his first name, like a lame youth pastor.” Dylan rolls his eyes, tugging on your hand to bring you to the couch in the living room. “Movie?”

You nod jerkily. Dylan works around you, getting a blanket, popcorn, and the movie all set up. He turns down the lights, winking at you suggestively as he does so.

Less than five minutes into the movie, the beginning credits still lingering on to the actors he leans in with an open mouth, his hand making its way to your hip. With the smell of him still fresh, being able to smell him on the couch you were on, it was easy to get eagerly into the kissing. This encouraged Dylan, of course confusing your eagerness for him. He reaches down, placing two of his fingers over your clothed pussy.

You moan lightly, and he shushes you softly. Mentally you roll your eyes, because he was telling you to be quiet because his dad was home.

You were hooking up with him on his couch because his dad was home. You listen to him anyway, and he starts to rub in small circles, you moan even higher, imagining he could hear you and getting off to it. “Shh, baby.” Dylan whispers. “Oh, you’re wet. Fuck.”

He slips his hands into your shorts, leaning you down to rub your pussy and attack your neck at the same time. “Pussy feels…mazing.” Dylan mutters between the slobbery neck kisses he gives you. It was enough for you to picture him, but suddenly Eddie coming downstairs right now without knowing what you were doing got you off even more.

“Eat me out?” You ask him, and ever the gentleman he smiles devilishly at you as he crawls down. He goes to place the blanket over his head, and you stop him. “Wanna see your face.”

Okay, you wanted to see Eddie see your pussy as his son went down on you, but it made Dylan eager enough to dig in in a way you haven’t seen from him yet.

You whine from the hot pleasure it gave you, you grind on his face, the heat focused on your pussy in a way that has never happened before. The idea of Eddie accidentally walking in on you but watching instead of saying anything gets you off so easily Dylan is feeling your juices wet his chin and your ass like it never has before.

“Greedy baby.” He mumbles, placing two fingers into you and giving kisses to your thighs as he pumps them.

“Gonna cum soon, Dyl.” You warn him.

Luckily, Dylan knows it means to keep doing what he’s doing. You were close, but the sound of footsteps upstairs followed by a door closing pushed you over the edge, knowing he could very well be going to his room from elsewhere, but hoping he was at the top of the stairs.

Just the possibility of him being at the top pushed you over. “Holy shit.” Dylan mutters, crawling up to you. “Must’ve been riled up, huh.”

“Yeah.” You tell him, suddenly feeling Dylan’s boner poking the inside of your knee. “Mere, I wanna help you.”

“No, I wanna fuck you, let’s go to my room.”

His room…down the hall…where there’s a better chance he could hear you. “Sure!”

-

Eddie Munson was sure there was something out to get him. The moment your pretty fucking face greeted him in his kitchen when he wondered down fresh from a shower he was sure there was something laughing at this pure misery.

The smile on your face, the smell of your sweet perfume, the way your skirt hugged your hips all melted him into one pot. When you told him you met Dylan at a fucking mixer, he wanted to shoot the person who made you feel like you were worthy of being ogled at by a bunch of singles at an awkward church mixer.

A church mixer.

He hated that Dylan liked them, always said only weirdos go there and was sure Dylan as exaggerating when he expressed how gorgeous and out of his league you were.

His heart freezing at the sight of you sit perched on one of his stools, shyly watching your boyfriend, even only from the back made him wonder if angels were real. Fuck, he didn’t ask for any proof of your beauty when offered to show your Instagram, but he wouldn’t have believed it.

He spent that entire first conversation doing everything he could to be a fucking father figure and remind himself you were dating his son. He was not hitting on you at a bar, he was your boyfriend’s dad.

Somehow that just made the forbidden part about it that much hotter.

He felt like a pervert as the scent of your shampoo jumped out at him when he passed by you for the milk, and he had wanted to stop in place and take a big inhale. Felt like an even bigger pervert as he saw the string of your bikini bottom sitting high on your hip peaking out of your skirt and he just wanted to get a shot of that underskirt.

Every thought he had about you as your wit came through the conversation, he wondered what the hell you were doing with Dylan. He loved his kid, but you deserved better than what he knew his kid would provide.

He knew about Dylan that he’d be a great husband one day. Someone reliable and trustworthy enough to build a life with.

He didn’t want that for you. He wanted you to have something mind-blowing and earth shattering, something intoxicating. Something that made you feel the way he felt just by smelling your goddamn shampoo. Your teeny tiny bikini with your hair up in a messy bun with cute little sunglasses all somehow went to his cock, and he was glad you were called over before he said something even more stupid.

Eddie rolled his eyes at your claim there wasn’t a bigger dating pool, opening his mouth to retort--“Oh, you should’ve told me, we could’ve been almost there by now. Come on, baby! See you dad!”

The door slams, and that concluded the end of that conversation. “Um, you were gonna say something?” you ask him, and he wondered if the intrigue on your face was something he just imagined.

“Oh. Was I? Totally forgot.” Eddie lies. I was gonna say I am proof there is a bigger dating pool than you would believe, sweetheart… but he knew it would’ve said something he couldn’t unsay.

Dylan told him you were coming over for a sleepover, and he and Dylan’s room were only separated by the bathroom. Eddie might use the basement for the night because he didn’t trust his perverted mind not to seek you out and look at what little pjs you have chosen to wear. He gave you space out of respect when you arrived, wondering if it was flirting when you called him Mr. Munson.

Suddenly a noise that Eddie could only describe as the doorbell to heaven (or hell with what his mind was thinking) reached the door he had kept open for this very reason.

He kept his tv playing and sneaked off to the top of the stairs, hoping to catch his kid getting you off while you moaned under the covers. The treat he was given was far better, the hand over your tight ass shorts feeling you up as you leaned back and whined all high pitched. Eddie’s cock was so hard at the moment not touching it would be like self-neglect.

He backed up against the wall by the stairs, listening to your moans as he got you off, desperately wishing it was his fingers in your wet heat. He imagined your scrunched up face as you made those stunning noises, starting to stroke himself. A pause occurs, your blissed out voice asking him to eat you out. He bites back a moan at wanting to taste you, wanting to get all up in those juices and to show him how much you turned him on. He leans over the wall into the stair entry, expecting the blanket to be covering you but instead being met with your pussy on full display.

A low guttural moan escapes his throat, fucking into his fist and pretending it was you bent over for him instead, whining the same exact way. He knew you would have a pretty pussy, but this was just un-fucking fair.

You warn Dylan you were about to cum, and that pushes him over his own edge, and he suddenly has a mess he needs to clean up all over his fist. God he wanted you to clean it, to suck it all up. He was making himself hard again and he had to flee to his fucking bedroom to wash up.

Suddenly the creak of the stairs erupts as he is cleaning himself up, and Dylan’s door closes. Oh. They’re…continuing.

Your moans are suddenly loud, and Eddie finds himself hard again as he realizes he’s hearing you being fucked. Oh, he knew you were a fucking dirty slut.

Just fucking knew it. Something that hasn’t happened since he was in his 20s, but he’s ready to jerk himself off within minutes of just cumming. “Yeah, my whore being fucked open, letting everyone hear how good she feels, oh shit.” Eddie mutters to himself, right next to his door.

He ends up finishing at the same time you did, which didn’t take either one of you very long.

-

The next morning you wake next to Dylan sleeping with a big smile on his face. To him, that was the best sex you’ve ever had together. Mixed with your adventure at the beach last week, you guys were doing better than ever.

 To you, it was only amazing because you kept thinking of Eddie fucking you and it did everything for your core. You get up in the tiny pair of pajamas you had packed, something that barely covered your ass and headed downstairs for some breakfast.

As you were leant down to assess the cereals, you heard the stride of someone come in behind you.

Eddie walks in behind you, holding back a swear as he sees your pussy peaking out of your pajama bottoms. A gentleman, and not knowing you fully reciprocated every horny thought, he ignores it and hopes you sit up.

You don’t, leaning even more forward and making a show of wondering what to eat. Eddie inhales, allowing himself to watch you. You turn around to him jerking his head away, and you felt some pride in getting his attention. “Morning.” You greet him, offering a bowl for him.

He rejects it. “Not hungry.”

“Oh.” You pour cereal, and Eddie focuses on not staring at your beaded nipples peaking through the tiny silk top you wore.

“Fuck.” He whispered, the boner growing.

“Something wrong?” You ask him innocently, and knowing this was working to your benefit made you nervous but eager.

“Lots to do today.” Like jerk off another three times.

“Like what?” You asked, taking a spoonful of cereal even though you had no appetite from the butterflies in your stomach.

“Oh not much.” Eddie wonders to you, and by reaching over you to grab the cereal he wonder if he could sneak a smell from your shampoo.

You sit up as he leans away, and you are so close you can see just how gorgeous he is. God, those brown eyes. “Do you have any…one to do?” You ask, glancing back and forth between his pretty lips and his even prettier eyes. You didn’t even know which ones to focus on.

Eddie leans in a bit to you, just ghosting over your lips. “Are you sure…that you want this?”

You nod, your eyes glazing over in want as the arousal in your gut suddenly exploded into a need.

“Cause…cause if we do this there is no going back. If your pussy…” he inhales sharply, taking a breath of your hair. “is as good as I imagine, there’s no way I’m giving you back.”

This sentence turns you into gelatin, and you lean forward to finally kiss him, his lips rough as he seemingly forgets how to act for a moment.

His brain finally catches up and he grabs onto you, inhaling and messy kisses, and grabby hands all at once as he tries to do everything he’s wanted to. Your hands make their way into his hair, and it was as soft as you pictured it. His lips messily kiss down your jaw onto your neck and you let out a whine. He smiles widely at that. “Good. One I made. Needed that.”

“You heard me…yesterday?” You asked, wetter from the idea of it.

“Heard you? Fucking came to it.” He swears, as he continues an assault on your neck. You moan in response, your hips involuntarily grinding up. “Come on, upstairs.”

You almost wanted to get caught by Dylan, but to keep it going longer you follow Eddie giddily upstairs as he trips over himself and you felt like a goddamn teenager. You follow him into his room, and the curtains were blackout curtains, the lights turned off giving the illusion of everything being dark. “Can we turn on the lights?” You ask, delicately. “I wanna see you.”

Eddie turns on his dimmer switch light so it was low, and the look in his eye as he approaches you sat on his bed had a level of lust in them that drove you wild. He leans in to give you a kiss after sitting right by you, and it wasn’t enough touching for you. You crawl forward as you eagerly kissed him back, straddling his lap. “Fuck, sweetheart, you are fucking gorgeous.” He mutters, the silk pajamas you wore bunching up in his hands as he grabbed at it. “The little strap that peaked out of your skirt tied together was just tempting me to unwrap you like a present.” He huffs, still kissing your neck. You find yourself impatient, wanting his lips back on yours.

“Fuck, been thinkin’ about you on my cock ever…” he inhales your perfume with a deep grunting sigh of content. “ever since.”

You mewl to his confessions, and he’s a much better talker than you could’ve imagined. Your hips start to grind on their own accord and with the little fabric they have between your silk shorts and his thin pajama pants you felt his hard cock fairly easily. You let out a high moan of contentment, and Eddie watches as you grind on his cock and get yourself off so easily. “Oh shit, she’s a dirty slut, hey.” Eddie comments leaning back and watching you grind yourself. “Doesn’t even need a cock inside her, will just take anything I give her with a smile on her face.”

“I would—” you gasp, the material scratching your clit in the best way, “I would take any crumbs, fuck.”

You start to moan higher and grind faster, and Eddie wanted to make you cum by his hands or his mouth the first time but you making yourself cum against his pants meant he was now using this as a fucking cum rag to smell you when you weren’t near. “Take off those shorts, doll. Wanna see your pussy.”

“Ok.” They are yanked off without a second thought.

“Oh, good listener. What a good girl.” He comments petting your hair gently as you continued to grind again with your heat now directly against his pj pants, he could feel it against his cock. “Oh, fuck, you are soaked. My fucking horny slut.”

“Horny for you.” You whimper the edge just right there.

“Whoring herself out for the Munsons.” He comments, sort of bitter he had to hear you fuck his son before he could claim you.

“Pictured it was you.” You admit, your voice in a whisper as you confessed but the high you wanted almost there.

“Fuck, did you?” He asks, the idea you only enjoying it so much because you pictured him.

“Mmhmm. Pictured you watching me, too.”

“Fucking little voyeur.” He whispers, and you nodded. He rewarded you by grabbing your hips and rutting against you and hitting your clit even harder and your orgasm snuck up on you, and the extra attention Eddie pays you as he watches it wash through you only helps the high take longer to recover from.

“Oh my god.” You whisper, a last of the intense orgasm still running through you.

“Not done.” Eddie whispers, a big smirk on his face. He lightly pushes you down and grabs your legs and puts them over his shoulder. You watch him carefully, his face looking at your pussy at a way that would usually resolve in embarrassment. Instead, it only turned you on more because it meant he wanted you just as much.

He dives into your pussy with a level of expertise that only came from years of pleasuring women. You don’t know why but you knew he got off to pleasuring others from the moment you saw him and every moan you let out he absorbed it, getting better and better as your verbal ques direct him. The heat in your pussy intensifies as he continues, fucking two of his fingers into you.

You place your hands in his hair, grinding up when the feeling of wanting to be fucked takes over you. “No, patience baby. I need to see what you look like when you squirt.”

“I-I can’t—”

“Every woman can, sweetheart. Just means you’ve had no one show you yet. Feel that?” He asks you, the heat in your pussy expanding as he continued to attack your clit and finger fuck you.

You nod, the feeling in your gut like a tidal wave of pleasure.

“Focus on it.” You do, and as you do you look up at his eyes, already staring into yours as he assesses your reactions. The heat intensifies by a thousand, and the feeling of wanting to…pee…takes over.

“Fuck—” you start to protest.

“Let it happen. Let go. It’ll feel so fucking good…baby let go. Gonna feel so fucking good.” You trust him so you let go and a gush invades your ear as a red-hot pleasure makes home in your pussy. “One more?” Eddie asks you, his thumb now messaging your clit.

You twitch under him, your bud being so sensitive. “Oh fuck, Ed. Too much.”

“No, I think you can cum again. Wanna see that beautiful face all scrunched up. Wanna take a photo.” He holds out his phone casually, and your face heats up. “Not feeling all the sudden shy, are ya? You whored your little pussy for me how is this different?”

“Its…” you manage out, already close again. “Its hot.”

“She gonna cum again, all over my fingers?”

“All over your fingers.”

“You gonna lick em clean?”

“Can we share?”

Eddie groans audibly, titling his head back. “Of course, doll. Of fucking course, now cum all over them, please.”

The third orgasm takes over your body, and it’s so goddamn good you stop responding for a minute which causes Eddie to panic. “Oh shit, you okay?”

Giggles burst out of you, the kind of post orgasm giggles you’ve only read about in spicy novels. You thought they were fake. “Can I suck you off now?”

Eddie’s eyes bulge, and he realizes his hand is still on your pussy. He taps it lightly, causing you to whine. He lifts the finger first, inserting it into your mouth. “Suck this first.” You wrap your tongue around it, keeping eye contact as you taste yourself, and this is the only time it’s ever been truly hot to be able to taste yourself. Other times it was just perplexing.

Eddie takes the other finger when you let go and starts sucking on it, he closes his eye, enjoying the taste of your pussy on his tongue. Eddie crawls onto his bed and you basically pounce him, yanking his pj pants down as fast as they go, wanting to see his cock. His eyes watch you, blown and enwrapped in lust as he watches your eagerness.

As his cock pops out of his pants, an involuntary smile spreads across your face. The head to his cock was so pink, he must’ve been horny. “Oh, pretty cock.” You mutter, and he wasn’t even sure if you were saying to him or just saying it out loud. “Oh my god, look how pink your head is. Mmm..sure seem like you need some attention.”

You take the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking on it alone but getting used to his girth. Holy he was gonna hurt even with how wet you were. You start sucking on it, taking bit by bit more into your mouth each time, eagerly making sloppy spit sounds as you did so. It wasn’t hard to generate the spit you needed, the sight of his dick made your mouth water.

Your head bobbed up and down on it, illicit sounds being drawn out of him, only encouraging you more as the feeling of his rings harsh against your scalp making you wet. You pop off him, spit connected from your mouth to his dick. You lean forward to his treasure trail, licking the hair and biting at it, something you’ve wanted to do since you saw him. You find your way back down and passed his cock and he’s about to ask when take one of his balls into your mouth, sucking loudly.

“Oh fuck, do you know how to use that pretty little mouth. Holy shit.” You roam over it with your tongue, sucking it in and out repeatedly. Then you move on to the next one, giving it its own show as well. Your mouth moves back to suck on his cock but he tugs on your hair to bring him up to you.

“Want you to face fuck me.” You say to him, still not done sucking on his cock.

“Nother time. Lemme fuck you.” He mutters, tugging on the shirt you still wore. You crawl back up to straddle him, nothing between his cock and your pussy now, but he places his cock on it so the shaft slides in-between your folds, teasing you, and causing you to whine. “Oh shit.” He works on the buttons holding your silky pink shirt, the skilled hands working fast through each one. As each one reveals another inch of skin, he feels more intoxicated by you, especially how you’re begging him to put his cock in. Your tits fall out of the shirt, and he rips the back off you, and you let it fall to the floor. You grab onto his band shirt, attempting to move it off him. You barely do it, the feeling of his cock so close inside you causing your focus to fall apart in seconds. He laughs, nearly cruel, yanking the shirt off, revealing more tattoos you’ve never seen. Your hands flutter to his chest, moving to each tattoo and touching every inch you can.

Your mission to focus and analyze each tattoo is interrupted by him maneuvering you onto your back. You lay there, open and ready for him. “Holy shit, fucking smoking hot.” He mutters, like he couldn’t believe you were here with him.

It was you who was the lucky one, he was crazy.

“You’re hotter.” You mutter, as he starts to align his cock with your entrance. “Thought of you last night, made myself cum so hard.”

“Oh fuck. What was I doing?” He asks, still teasing you with it.

“Just watching me finger myself. Talking me through it. Calling me a whore.” He groans, tapping his cock on it. “Please, Ed need your cock.”

“Beg for it, you fucking slut.” He whispers, something taking over him.

“Please, daddy. Want your cock. Want you to fuck me like a ragdoll. Please, pretty please fuck me until I’m a puddle. I just want your cock in me, so fucking bad.”

“Gonna be a good slut for me?”

“Yes..I will I promise.”

He chuckles darkly and finally…finally moves into you. Your eyes cross and a moan so erotic leaves your body and you had barely a single ounce of control over that left your mouth at that point.

Eddie puts his head into your neck, feeling your head tighten around him in pleasure as you got used to his girth and length.

“Move…please?”

“Thought you were gonna take the crumbs I gave you, slut.” He mutters.

“Fuck. Sorry.”

He smiles and your fingers fidgeting at your sides were a dead giveaway you were just needy for him to move. It made him feel fucking powerful just his cock could make you feel like this. He starts rocking, slowly and you whine from this resolve alone. “Oh what a fucking whore, just needed a good fucking.” He mutters into your ear, his hand finding its way to your neck. “Putting her pussy on display for me, showing she just needed someone to know how to fuck her.”

You say nothing in response, and his hips are starting to rock against yours harder. Your eyes reach the back of your head as you lose air, but you revel in the feeling of nearly passing out as he takes his hand off. “Holy shit, you really are just a whore.”

You nod, eyes half lidded as you looked up at his pussy drunk eyes. “Little…cockdrunk…slut…” he inhales sharply and a wad of spit hits your face and you find yourself opening your mouth for more. “Fuck—” his hips stutter at the sight of your smile when his saliva hits your mouth. He spits right into it as you open for more and you act like it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted, cause it was.

Your tongue pokes out, gasping in more need. His hips are against yours so harshly you would’ve been afraid of bruising if it didn’t fucking turn you on so bad.

“Fucking slut, you want me to cum in you? Wanna be filled with my fucking cum?” You nod, too cocked out to speak, you’ve never felt this good from penetration alone before. “Cum with me, doll.” He mutters using his two fingers against your clit as he leans in to kiss you. Within moments you flutter around him, moaning into his mouth and he lets go of your kiss, stuttering his hips and letting out a loud moan as you feel him fill you up.

His body weight collapses ontop of you, and his hands are suddenly gentle as they sweep at your bangs sticking to your sweaty forehead. “Fuck.” He mutters, giving you a dazed-out look of pure adoration. “That was much better than anything I came up with.”

You nod in agreement, words still not coming to your mouth.

“You were such a good girl, yeah?” You smile, a heat coming up to your cheeks. “You listened to me so well. C’mere.” He wraps your lips in a kiss, his cock still in you, still hard and keeping all his cum in you.

“C-can we stay like this?” You ask timidly, not wanting his cock to leave yet.

“Ooh, baby wants to cock-warm? Sure. Wanna turn on a movie until 9, when Dylan usually wakes?” Eddie asks, already leaning towards the channel changer on his beside table.

Having to tell Dylan it was pretty much over the moment Eddie kissed you hadn’t even crossed your mind, and it would eventually twenty minutes into the movie when you got back to earth. Eddie knew the realization would kick in eventually so he let you watch a movie of your choice, sitting up on his bed with you straddled on his lap after a bit of maneuvering so you could both see the movie on his screen adjacent to his bed.

Eventually, Dylan was gonna wake.

Eventually, a storm would hit.

But for now, Eddie stayed inside you to pretend like it wasn’t over yet.

-

As always i Love reading comments, replies, reblogs <3 remember reblogging is the best way to support on Tumblr

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you

[pepperonijem]

to.you || Levi Ackerman

Synopsis: When your friend Eren invited you to come see the new band he joined play at a frat party, you didn’t realize you’d also be seeing your cold and dry project partner from your psych class singing love songs… much less singing them about you. Pairing: Levi Ackerman x gn!reader Content: College!AU, Guitarist!Levi, alcohol mentions, frat party mentions, no smut, I included scenes where Levi is soft (idc if its ooc, im the one writing it), I didn’t mention what major reader is, and no use of Y/N because I’d rather get eaten by a titan A/N: I was inspired after watching AOT middle school and listening to the song She’s the One by Monsta X and then Soft Spot by Keshi. Obsessed with the idea that Levi only knows how to express himself through songwriting.

the playlist → I have each song listed in the order it appears throughout the series, and I'll update as we go :)

send me an ask if you want to be tagged!

Chapters:

I. i wish that you and i lived in the sims ↳ (Sims; Lauv)

II. the song’s about to start (can you feel it?) ↳ (Buzz; Niki)

III. tell me your favorite love song ↳ (Completely; Jaehyun)

IV. 'til there was you ↳ ('Til There was You; Imaginary Future)

V. you know i got a soft spot for you ↳ (Soft Spot; Keshi)

[bippiti]

catalyst clc16 x rockstar! reader

after the release of your new album, life has been hectic as you've been running around doing shows. only problem is you seem to have only one person on your mind. little do you know he's having the same issue

an part two! any feedback is appreciated and please like + rb!

if you want a visual guide for the band .

part one next part

tags @bloodyymaryyy @guiseppetsunoda @maxverstappendefender @charizznorizz

yourig

liked by king, charles_leclerc and 42,836,364 others

yourig thanks for coming out london! nyc see you soon x

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user ughh i wish i couldve come :((

yourig next time lovee💜

user sounded so good

user anyone else gonna talk about the album afterparty???

user who cares bro😭 theyre adults and tbh they would be a power couple

user right?! ive been thinking the same thing, shes not a good influence on him

user im sorry do yk y/n??? how would u know that lmfao

king looking good!

liked by yourig

user where is the fit from???

user i think vivienne westwood!

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-

you sighed, scrolling through your comments. it had been almost a month after your albums release, and some people still were bringing up the hug with charles. i mean, seriously it was just a hug. it wasn't like you guys had made out or anything.

both your label and ferrari were sponsored by celsius, and your management had met with one of ferraris pr heads. they had agreed to work together to promote the new album, and had picked charles because he was a fan of your music.

you clicked instantly on the first day of set, but it also helped that you spoke fluent french (you had an obsession with indila when you were younger and forced yourself to learn it) the lack of a language barrier, coupled with the fact that you guys had similar interests made it inevitable that you both would become friends.

after the album launch party, you were exhausted. you had woken up at 4am for promo shoots, and had been running around all day before singing your whole album (which was around an hour long) to the attendees. it was fun, and you wouldnt trade your career for the whole world, but man you were tired.

as you were heading out, you spotted charles and you both stopped to talk

"tu as bien fait là-dedans" he said, smiling as he pushed his hands into his pockets (you did good in there)

"merci! les heures de pratique m’ont aidé. je pense que je pourrais oublier les paroles si j’essayais" you smile as he laughed (thanks! the hours of practice helped. i dont think i could forget the lyrics if i tried)

"en pratiquant son art on devient artisan" (practice makes perfect)

you nod, turning as you hear your bandmate siobahn call for you

you look back to him, saying your goodbyes and quickly hugging him before running after her.

that was it. just a friendly hug. it's not like he liked you, and if he knew you liked him, you doubt he would still be friends with you.

-

charles_leclerc

liked by yourig, pierregasly and 305,387 others

charles_leclerc i won. maybe next time @/pierregasly 😘

view comments

user just realized pierre had a chance to fork the king and the rook in

user not y/n liking this...

user so cute😍

pierregasly i almost had it

charles_leclerc of course you did

user my fav french men

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-

after having checkmate charles sat back, smiling smugly as he looked at pierre try and fail to make a move. giving up, he raised his hands in defeat.

"quand vais-je jamais te battre?" he said sighing as he chuckled (when will i ever beat you)

"peut-être dans une autre vie" (maybe in another life)

scoffing, pierre changed the subject.

"so i heard you're with some rockstar these days"

"i most definitley am not"

"sure, sure. you might not be dating her but i can tell you like her"

charles paused, having a mini crisis. ok. so maybe he did like you. he couldn't help it, honestly. throughout filming ,and even after he had grown to really admire you. not only just as an artist, but as a person as well. he honestly hoped you'd be able to meet up afterwards, but he hasnt been able to see you since. between his preseason training and your concerts, you both are rarely free, let alone in the same country.

he told all of this to pierre, who listened quietly, nodding along before telling him his masterplan. he was gonna help him out, what kindve friend would he be if he didnt?

-

hearing the notification sound go off on your phone, you picked it up. your eyebrows raised as you read it

part 3??

[iplayghoul]

𝗹𝗲𝗴 𝘂𝗽 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘁. 𝗼𝗻𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗸𝗼𝗽𝗼𝗻

warnings: mentions of weed, reader is a dealer, black coded reader, strangers hooking up 🤭, squirtinggg, i like the word cock, sum dick in there too. pussy is refered to as a 'she', use of 'ma' and 'mama', p in v, thumb in ass shit, oral (f & m receiving), use of the n word

word count: 2.4k

notes: its ony's birthday! 🎂 ive come out my cocoon to deliver this delish lil smut for yall🤭 please enjoy, i havent written smut full out in a bit so! comments, rbgs wit comments all appreciated mwah

"𝗪𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵𝘂' 𝘀𝗮𝗶𝗱? 𝗣𝘂𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝗱𝗿𝘆?" 𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗮𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗱. "𝗧𝘂𝗿𝗻 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼 𝗹𝗲𝗴 𝘂𝗽 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘁."

"In five minutes? Oh yea', Con' I'mma do 'em up for you, real good. Mhm, you lucky Sash' my girl." Glossy lips smacked as you ended the call with Connie. Tossing your phone on your bed and heading to the small office space in your apartment. Various tools were laid out across the table. Humming a little, your lavender bunny slippers shuffling as you enter, you hook the handles of two pink glittery packets on your acyrlics. You weighed the packets again and checked the information Connie messaged you. According to Connie, his best friend 'Ony' wanted some good strains you were selling, so of course he hits you up to get the packs for his friend.

Your doorbell went off once, hurrying you to hop down the stairs, holding down your braless, pierced tits behind the thin strapped tank you had on. You peeped at who was outside your apartment, staring for a long two seconds at the buff, darkskinned man with a nose piercing and a fade. The white wife-beater paired with a grey hoodie that matched his sweats, ain't do his muscles justice either! Bejewled teeth bite back against your lips, and you swing the door open, slightly pulling your care bear themed shorts down. His lips grabbed your attention immediately.

Actually, you had to take in his presence quick. His bottom lip was a pretty pink and his top lip dark. His hands were big and so was the broadness of his shoulders. He looked a little nervous too. "You Con's boyfren'?" His lips curled a bit, "Fuck did that nigga tell you ma?" Shit. He spoke so softly you could barely hear what he had to say, only the low base of his voice helped you hear him. You bounce onto your other leg, swallowing hard, "'M just teasin', you 'Ony'?" He licked his lips and hummed with a nod, "Yea, 's Onyankopon." Not one for small talk? "Yea, come in n' lemme get it for you." You eye him and try your hardest to make small talk as he puts his hands up on your door frame, you already had to look up to see his face.

The packets were in the pockets of your shorts, really, with free stickers in 'em too! But you were not about to fumble some potentially lethal dick. You gulp feeling the softness of his body brush against yours as he accepts your invite in, the music from your speakers gracing his ears as you follow him to the living room. You pat the couch for him to sit and walk to the half bath, wasting a few seconds to 'get the packets'. With each interaction you became increasingly aware of what you were wearing. You peeped in the mirror and the heart shaped print of your nipple piercings becoming more prominent.

"Ya'know, youn' really talk dat much... or loudly, do you?" You shuffle back into the living room. He rubs above his lips and manspreads, hands moving to rest beneath the band of his sweats. "If I'm bein' deadass, I'ain got much to say, Con' ain't tell me you was cute ma. Ion really ever like raising my voice eitha'." Somehow, your body temperature just kept going up and your eyes kept drifting back to his lips. You plop down onto the couch, "You got a bitch ri-now?" He leans his head back against your couch and your peer at the way his lips purse out, and his adam's apple bobs. He seemingly manspreads wider, his large build making your couch cushions seem tiny. "Nah, why?" "Jus' wonderin'." Your lips began to feel shaky with every word. The entire encounter was like a meaningless dance around the elephant in the room. And fuck, you were gonna' fuck Constance punk ass up when this night was over. "So listen, I can give you the packets now, 'n you can pay me," You toss the packets onto the coffee table, his eyes remain trained on you. "Or, you c'n getcho dick wet." You mumbled, eyes drifting to connect with his.

A sharp inhale and you see the way his eyes open slightly to peak at you. Fat thighs squeezed together as you sat back with your socked feet up on the couch. "Don't that sound good, Onyankopon?" The way his chest rose with his breaths paused for a minute, reveling in hearing your sweet voice utter his name. His hands push further into his sweats, giving his dick a few long strokes before slipping it out his sweats. It was heavy, so heavy that he held it up for you and let it rest on his wife beater, on his belly button. Being the 'pretty dick' fiend you were meant you needed him in your mouth, immediately.

Quickly lurching forward, you press glossy lips to his pretty cock. His dusted pink tip was fat, and as his dick got darker down the shaft so did it get fatter. The nigga was HUNG, and you could mearly slide your tongue around the circumference of his cock head.

"C'mon mama, do watchu wanna do." It was enough incentive for you to swallow his dick down, relishing in the way it squished down your throat as your held your breath. With each stroke that relieved your airway you took a breath, folding your lips in to glide across his cock as globs of spit dribble across the shaft. You slurp and gag a little with each slip of his dick in your mouth, his hips gyrate and buck up. Ony keeps his eyes on you. Frowning as he interlocks his hands behind your neck, stuffing and forcing your face down on his cock. His head drops back against the couch, fucking his dick up into your mouth with heavy groans filling the room, even above the slow beats of your music. You needed him to tear your shit up within the next two seconds before you start to go crazy.

"Fuck, take all dat shit off, ma." Ony grips your jaw as he pulls you off his dick, spit dripping down your chin and lips plumped up. You wobble on your knees to stand up and undress yourself while he shrugs off his hoodie and wife beater. Tattoos decorated his pecs and arms, the dark ink prettily accentuating his melanin. He nods his head to the side, "Lay back right there, pretty." Plump pink lips pout a little but you follow his directions regardless, laying back into the cushions and spreading your legs. "Ain't nun' wrong with puttin' it in dry," you mutter below your breath when his lips connect with your clit. He mumbles something like 'don't piss me off' and his tongue is all over you.

His hands are big enough to grip the entire spread of your thigh, forcing your leg back as he worked his tongue in circles around your clit, sloppily spitting through your folds and caressing your hole with his tongue. He ate it like a starving man, his frowning and groaning into you growing more frequent as he pushes his face deeper. Your nails ghost the back of his neck, feeling the vibrations of his groans while the other played with your nipple. He tilts his head at an angle, flattening his tongue against your clit and you flinch, the electric pleasure shooting through your tummy and he smiles.

"Right there?" He peers up at you just as your eyes started springing tears. He bites down on his lips, and gives your clit a few kisses. You gasp and start pushing on his shoulders, understanding where he was going . Ony, undisturbed, curls his tongue into your clit, sucking and spitting on your cunt and maintaining the angle. Your tummy begins to tighten, clit pulsing with every lick, holding your breath and arching up into him. A sharp smack on your clit forces a cry out of you, "Stop holdin' yo' breath or imma' leave you right here," Fuck. You let out exasperated breaths as you desperately gyrate your hips into his mouth. Your clit, swollen and fat started to feel almost numb, you can't help but slap his shoulders and whine. "Shit, shit, shit— Ony, that's enough." It only edges him on, sucking up your creamy releases and forcing himself impossibly closer to you. You head was already pressed up against the armrest leaving you no escape, eyes rolling in different directions and mouth agape. Ony's mouth is latched onto you, bouncing your entire body into the couch cushions. You could only moan 'yes, yes, yes' with each rocking of your clit in his mouth.

Your toes curl and you're pushing his head into your pussy, chasing a bigger release than the one you just had. "Fuck, yeah, eat it just like that, baby," Your grip on everything begins to loosen and your lower body feels like static; milky slick squirts out of you as your body begins to relax and you hold Onyankopon's head in place as he drinks it all up. "You're fucking insane," You huff out at him when he lifts his head up to look at you, your release dripping off his nose and chin. "Watchu' said? Put dat shit in dry?" he rasped. "Turn over and put yo leg up on the seat." You give a start and look at him, feeling a mess.

"You not gon' let me recover, bitch?" He licks his lips and sits up on his knees, grabbing your ass like he was preparing to put you in position if you didn't do it. Consistently maintaining eye contact. "Don't call me no bitch," You hear him say low, "And turn the fuck over," He gives your ass a hard shove. You flop over onto your stomach, arching your ass up for some backshots, before sitting up to pull your right leg from out under you and kicking it up onto the top of the couch. You feel your inner thigh burn from the near split position, gripping onto the arm of the couch. Ony's fingers toy with your cunt and spreads you about the length of his dick, pumping it a few times before moulding circles around your clit with his tip: movements calculated. "Shit," You mumble softly, noticing the ever-increasing slip of your pussy. He slows the teasing of your clit, a large hand gripping your ass and pushing you down simultaneously. He lets his tip catch your sopping entrance, pushing in slightly and ignoring your whines as he basks in the wetness pressinh on his tip. "Ony stop playin' 'n put that shit in, God." He pulses his tip back and forth, slowly sinking deeper but not deep enough for you to even get two inches of his cock.

He whispers something lowly and you're unable to hear him. Just as you opened your mouth to ask 'Watchu sayin' nigga?', so did it hang open when he stuffed his full length into you swiftly. "Holy fuck," Was all you could force out of your mouth, his girth pushing against your walls as he sit in it. His hand spreads your ass and you feel him sink his thumb into your ass, his grip on you tightening. Your eyes already start rolling back into your head with the slight movements of his dick in you while he shifts to adjust his knees on the couch. You grip the couch hard and press your head against it when he starts using your ass to gain leverage, momentum.

"Think you c'n take sum fat dick?" Onyankopon mutters above you, the hand with his thumb in your ass slowly dragging you off his cock and back. "Yeah, yeah, gimme— gimme whatever you want, baby." You swallow, attempting to comprehend his question amidst the aching of your pussy that hungrily slobbered all over his dick. Maintaining the slow drag, he reaches down with his other hand to grip your neck, giving you a few tugs to manhandle you into a comfortable groove; before finally hammering his hips into your ass.

Ony groans and curses low while you struggle to hold onto the couch, his strong arms on your neck, forcing your ass back onto him. "Fuck! fuck— fuuuck, Ony," You let out a sob with each stroke he put on you, feeling incredibly full with just his thumb and girth combined. Your pussy was spread and aching around him, slippery and loud and nasty. "Fuck— she talkin' to me?" Onyankopon grins above you and only snaps his hips down into your ass harder, letting it sting. Your pussy was dripping, strings of slick falling from your cunt onto the couch and dripping down to tickle your sensitive clit with each stroke.

You were a mess, with every curse and 'ah!' came drool spilling from your mouth, slobbering about the couch and spreading it down to your fattened nipples. Your hand toyed with the piercing and you only felt more full, your tummy swelling more with each invasion of his dick against your walls. "C'mon take it, take it," Ony removes his hand from your neck to slap your ass hard, forcing his other thumb deeper in you, moving the other to play with your clit. White, foamy, release plops down like whipped cream onto his fingers as he rapidly and roughly guided them around your swollen clit. The same realese making his cock hot and melting in your pretty pussy, coating his every inch and forcing low moans out of him. "Ain't this watchu wanted? My dick wet as fuuuck, mama," You moan back some unintelligible response, you could barely hear the words coming out his mouth. Your entire being was totally focused on the way you began to tremble and squirt small spurts of cum gliding down your legs.

Onyankopon holds you still, hiking one of his legs up and fucking into you unimaginably deeper, sloppier, nastier. You squeal and grab his hand that's at your clit, slapping his arm and biting the softness of the couch's limb while your cry and whine. Ony ignores your attempts to tap out amidst the convulsing of your legs and hard quivering of your body. Your head was pounding now and you go completely blank for a split second, your full releases forcing itself out of you for the second time without your consent, in thick streams.

Your gasps and desperate as you attempt to get yourself together, all while Onyankopon can't help but nut deep in you before pulling out and slapping your clit a few final times with his dick. Your body refuses to move from the complicated position, Ony silently pulls your leg off the seat and carefully moves you onto your back. He wipes some tears off your fucked out face, hesitating before getting up and digging in your fridge for water before returning with two bottles. He opens one for you, feeding you the cold comfort that soothes your thoat while you hold onto his wrist.

"You straight?" He asks before leaning to dig in the pockets of his sweats and pull out a bit if cash. "Mhm," was all you could muster, watching him throw the money on the table before grabbing his phone. "Shit," He half grumbles with a soft chuckle before showing you the bright screen. Six missed calls from Connie.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Hi! I don't know if you already have an idea for the birthday post, if you do feel free to ignore this...my favourite trope is dad!harry too...what if H has to go for an emergency meeting somewhere else out the country even before his birthday and he has to spend his birthday there too and he is bummed about it...the fmc can fly out with their daughter/son and when he is back from his meeting his room is all decorated and stuff and she tells him she asked jeff to cancel everything...and they do a bunch of fun stuff but at night, after dinner she and the baby surprise him with another baby or something and he is like best birthday ever, 30 is already amazing

Happy 30th Birthday, Baby.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - thank you so much to @missbearforfun for sending in this request, ive had had a fun time writing this, ive changed a few things up, so i hope that ive done it justice.

i can’t believe that my boy is 30….like i swear he was just auditioning for the x-factor yesterday. 🥹

word count - 4.4k

in which, harry gets called to do a meeting in italy, two days before his birthday, which means that he’ll be spending his 30th out there with just his manager jeff, what he doesn’t realise is that you, his darling wife, fly out to surprise him and hopefully give him the best birthday he’s ever had.

You’ve been in Harry’s life for just over ten years.

You’ve spent five of those years as boyfriend and girlfriend, two of those years as his fiancé, and now, this year will be leading up to the third year being each other's husband and wife.

The first birthday of his that you spent with him, was his 20th all the way back in 2014. He had organised an intimate get together at a restaurant full of all of his closest family and friends, and it was the first time that you would be turning up together, as an official couple seeing as the only people who knew about the two of you were his band mates and his mother,sister, father and step father.

It was also the night that he confessed to you that he loved you, and that you were the one person that he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with.

From that moment on, every birthday became a cherished chapter in your shared history.

Waking up in each other's arms has become a comforting tradition, marking the beginning of a day dedicated solely to celebrating Harry's existence. The warmth of those morning embraces symbolises the depth of your connection, a connection that has withstood the tests of time.

As the years unfolded, you've witnessed the evolution of Harry, both in age and character, yet the love between you two has remained unwavering.

From his 21st to his 30th birthday, you've made it a point to spend the day in a way that brings him joy. Whether it's exploring new places, indulging in his favourite activities, or simply relaxing together, the focus has always been on creating memories that reflect the essence of Harry.

Each birthday has become a canvas on which you paint moments of happiness and shared experiences.

You had spent every birthday with him, but for this one, it appeared to already be turning out in a way neither of you had expected.

A mere few days before Harry's anticipated birthday, an unexpected call from his manager, Jeff, sent ripples of disappointment through his plans. The urgency of an issue related to his beauty brand, Pleasing, required Harry's immediate attention in the Italy.

The brand we’re thinking of opening a pop-up shop over there, seeing as the country held so much adoration in both of your hearts, it was the place where you got married, the place where he proposed and where he now wanted his fans over there to have access to him and what he had to offer.

With flights already booked, he faced the heart-wrenching reality of having to leave just over two days before his special day. Devastation etched across his face as he contemplated the unforeseen disruption to the birthday celebration he had eagerly anticipated.

In a desperate attempt to reason with Jeff, Harry explained his deep desire to spend his birthday with you, sharing the disappointment that overshadowed the joy of the impending celebration.

However, the urgency of the matter prevailed, leaving Harry torn between personal desires and professional obligations. As his best mate and manager, Jeff empathised with Harry but emphasised the gravity of the situation, reinforcing the necessity of this unexpected journey.

Amidst the disappointment, you stepped in to comfort Harry, assuring him that celebrations could be postponed but his presence and well-being mattered most. You offered solace, reminding him that distance could not diminish the love and connection you shared.

The promise of a belated but equally meaningful celebration upon his return brought a glimmer of hope to the gloom that hung over his imminent departure.

You had promised him, that you would FaceTime him on his actual birthday and that you would both order the same takeaway that night and have a little over the phone date, just to celebrate this big milestone.

On the morning Harry was set to depart for Italy, the anticipation of his journey hung in the air. Dressed for travel, he stood before you with a small suitcase by the door.

Shoes on, cap snug, and sunglasses concealing his eyes, he exuded a mix of excitement and reluctance. Despite the January chill in London, the promise of Italy's warmth upon landing prompted him to prepare for a contrasting climate.

Your eyes held a silent plea as you stood before him, sorrow evident in your gaze.

"I wish I didn't have t’go," Harry admitted, his voice tinged with regret.

You nodded, understanding the weight of the situation, your silence echoing the unspoken emotions in the room.

Milo, your ten-month-old Rottweiler puppy, sensed the sombre atmosphere, wagging his tail as if trying to infuse joy into the moment.

Unable to contain your emotions, you wrapped your arms around Harry in a tight hug.

"I'll miss you so much," you whispered, your voice betraying the ache within. Harry's embrace tightened, and he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"I'll miss y’more, m’love," he murmured, the sincerity in his words resonating with the depth of his emotions.

Crouching down to pet Milo, Harry spoke to the pup with a soft smile, "Take care of mummy for me, little buddy."

Milo responded with excited barks, seemingly understanding the impending absence.

Standing up, Harry looked into your eyes, his own reflecting a mixture of love and longing.

Your gaze locked with his, finding solace in the promise of a future reunion.

"We'll have the most amazing belated birthday celebration," you said, trying to inject positivity into the moment.

Harry smiled, his eyes reflecting gratitude.

"I can't wait f’that. Until then, stay strong f’me," he said, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

As the door closed behind him, the echo of his departure resonated through the silent space. Left with the imprint of his touch, the memory of his presence, and the anticipation of his return, you and Milo faced a home that suddenly felt emptier without him.

"I'll make sure t’send y’pictures from Italy," Harry called out from the hallway.

"And don't forget to spoil Milo a bit extra for me!" he added with a playful grin, the reassurance in his voice providing a small comfort amid the impending distance.

The day of his actual birthday, you woke up at seven am, which meant it was eight am for Harry.

It was a nice early face time call, in which you had called someone from the town near your shared beach house and got them to deliver flowers so they we’re scheduled to arrive whilst the two of you were calling, so you could see his face when he received them.

Little did he know, as the virtual celebration concluded, that you were already en route to Italy to surprise the love of your life.

His manager, Jeff, had orchestrated the clandestine journey, booking a flight that not only allowed your presence but accommodated Milo, your loyal puppy companion.

On the fairly empty flight, with just a few scattered passengers, you found solace in the quiet journey across the skies. Milo, nestled on the seat next to you, peacefully dozed off, completely unaware of the grand surprise awaiting his owner.

The hum of the plane engines provided a soothing backdrop as you envisioned the joy that would light up Harry's face when you appeared unexpectedly in celebration of his special day.

Upon landing in Italy, you and Milo were swiftly escorted off the plane by a discreet security team. The importance of maintaining the surprise for Harry became evident as the team efficiently navigated through the airport. The mission was clear: to whisk you away from the public eye, avoiding any chance of word spreading that Harry's wife had arrived.

Passing through passport control with just a carry-on bag in tow, the security team ensured a seamless transition. The anticipation heightened as you and Milo moved through the airport, surrounded by the subtle hum of secrecy. Every step taken was a careful manoeuvre to preserve the surprise and shield the unfolding celebration from prying eyes.

Exiting the airport, you were guided to a waiting jeep. The security team orchestrated a smooth transition, knowing that time was of the essence.

Jeff:

H just left for a meeting, so you’ve got at least an hour to get everything ready !!

As the jeep sped toward the villa, Jeff's text notification illuminated your phone screen. His message revealed that Harry was currently engrossed in a meeting, providing a valuable window of time to set up a birthday surprise.

The prospect of transforming the house into a beautiful haven of celebration filled you with excitement. Knowing you had at least an hour before Harry's return heightened the anticipation, and thoughts of his surprised expression fueled your determination.

The journey continued through the picturesque landscapes of Italy, the half-hour drive feeling like both an eternity and a heartbeat away from reuniting with Harry. Milo, sensing the energy, shifted restlessly in anticipation, adding an extra layer of warmth to the already charged atmosphere within the jeep.

The realization that the culmination of meticulous planning was drawing near only fueled your eagerness.

The mere thought of seeing Harry after two days of separation fueled your determination to make this surprise an unforgettable celebration of love and connection. The countdown to the reunion had begun.

"Here we are," the driver announced as the jeep came to a stop in front of the villa. You thanked him and handed over a ten-euro tip, expressing gratitude for the swift and discreet journey.

Grabbing Milo's leash and your bag, you stepped out into the Italian air, the scent of anticipation mingling with the promise of celebration.

As you approached the door, the distinct aroma of Harry's aftershave enveloped you, confirming his recent presence. A pair of his white vans neatly placed by the entrance hinted at the intimate details of his daily routine.

With a smile, you inserted the key into the lock, unlocking the door to a space filled with the essence of the man you dearly missed.

"Milo, we're home," you murmured to your furry companion, who eagerly bounded into the living room.

The atmosphere inside resonated with familiarity, and Milo, seemingly aware of the joyous occasion, leaped onto the sofa, his tail wagging in sync with the pulsating excitement in the air.

Upon stepping into the villa, you wasted no time. The suitcase that accompanied you served as a treasure trove of celebratory delights. With swift precision, you unzipped it, revealing an inflatable 3 and 0, along with vibrant banners that spelled out "Happy Birthday."

The living room became a canvas for your creativity, and the decorations unfolded in a dance of colors and joy.

Inflating the giant numbers, you strategically placed them to catch Harry's eye the moment he entered. The banners crisscrossed the room, creating a vibrant tapestry of celebration. The atmosphere transformed with each decoration, turning the space into a haven of love and festivity.

The decorating didn’t take long, maybe around half an hour, so that left you waiting, and each minute felt like hell.

You so badly just wanted him in your arms.

Seated in the midst of the festive setup, you pulled out your phone, eager to share the news of your safe arrival with your family. Fingers danced across the screen as you texted messages of reassurance and excitement, capturing the essence of this special moment.

The living room, now a symphony of color and joy, served as the backdrop to your messages, each tap echoing the anticipation of the grand birthday surprise awaiting Harry.

As you sat in the living room, engrossed in your phone, the jingling of keys outside signaled Harry's arrival. Swiftly, you rose from your seat, Milo by your side, his tail wagging in silent excitement.

Attempting to be as quiet as possible, you made your way to the entry hall, your heart pounding with anticipation. The festive atmosphere of the decorated living room served as a backdrop to the impending surprise.

Harry entered, shutting the door behind him with a sense of routine. His tote bag dropped to the floor, and in his initial distraction, he failed to notice the pair of women's shoes by the entrance.

His gaze scanned the surroundings briefly before turning away, only to snap back with wide eyes when he caught sight of you standing there.

His mouth parted in shock, a mixture of disbelief and joy washing over his face.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment as Harry processed the unexpected presence before him. The shock gave way to a radiant smile, his eyes lighting up with genuine happiness. Milo's tail wagged furiously, mirroring the palpable joy in the room.

Harry's initial shock dissolved into pure joy as he stared at you standing in the entry hall. Without a moment's hesitation, he rushed over, gathering you into a tight embrace. The warmth of his arms enveloped you, an unspoken reassurance of the love that bridged the distance between you two. Your eyes welled up with tears, mirroring the emotion evident in his gaze.

"Happy birthday," you whispered, the words carrying the weight of your love and the joy of this surprise.

As Harry lifted his head, his lips sought yours in a cascade of affectionate kisses. Each press was a testament to the depth of the connection shared, a celebration of love that transcended the days of separation.

The room, filled with decorations and the silent witness of Milo, became a sanctuary for this spontaneous reunion.

In the midst of the kisses, Harry's laughter bubbled up, the sheer delight of the unexpected surprise washing over him.

"M’can't believe you're here," he admitted, his eyes sparkling with gratitude. Milo, sensing the joy, wagged his tail energetically, completing the tableau of love and celebration.

“I couldn't not see you on your birthday," you admitted with a warm smile, still wrapped in Harry's embrace.

"Milo missed his daddy so much that we had to come and surprise you." You winked playfully, a cheeky smile tugging at your lips. "And, well, maybe I missed you a bit too."

Harry's eyes lit up with a mixture of surprise and delight.

"Y’really came all the way here just for me?" he asked, his voice filled with gratitude. Milo, sensing the joy in the room, barked in agreement, tail wagging enthusiastically.

Cupping his face in your hands, you responded, "Absolutely. Birthdays are meant to be celebrated with the ones you love, and we couldn't let a few miles keep us apart, now could we?"

“But I’ve got meetings the entire day,”he pouted, head getting thrown back slightly. “But I wanna spend the entire day with you.”

You played with the peach fuzz at the back of his neck. “Well it’s a good job I’ve cleared your schedule then, huh?”

“Wait,”he snapped his head over to yours from where he was staring lovingly at Milo. “So I’ve got the whole day with you?”

“We’ve got the whole day together, baby.” You confirmed, watching as his dimples appeared on his face.

In need of a refreshment, you and Harry migrated to the kitchen. As he poured himself an ice-cold glass of water, you settled at the kitchen island, nibbling on a cracker slathered with butter.

Looking at Harry, you asked, "Any cravings for today?"

He grinned and replied, "Actually, I've been craving a nice stroll around the town with Milo. Maybe we can stop for some ice cream and, perhaps, a cheeky bottle of rouge."

Harry's eyes sparkled with the prospect of a leisurely day. He reached for your hand, fingers intertwining, and continued, "What do you think, love?"

You offered a small smile, well aware that your current circumstances limited certain indulgences. "Sounds lovely," you responded, playing with the cross necklace around his neck. "I'm up for a walk and some ice cream.”

The wine….not so much.

/ /

As the day wore on, bathed in the warm glow of the Italian sun, you changed into a pair of comfortable denim shorts and one of Harry's shirts, embracing the casual charm of the town. The borrowed shirt hung loosely on your frame, carrying the familiar scent that provided a comforting connection to Harry.

Together, hand in hand, you and Harry strolled along the old streets, a timeless backdrop for the unfolding birthday celebration.

Milo, ever the enthusiastic companion, trotted alongside, his leash held firmly in Harry's hand. The cobbled streets echoed with the gentle sounds of your footsteps, creating a serene melody as you explored the charming corners of the town.

The quaint architecture and rustic charm of the surroundings added a picturesque touch to the shared moments of the day.

The narrow alleyways led you to hidden gems and inviting cafés, where the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sweet treats filled the air.

Each step carried with it the promise of discovery and the joy of simply being together. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm hue over the town, and the leisurely pace of the day allowed you to savor the simple pleasures of the moment.

As you continued your leisurely walk through the charming streets of Italy, Milo suddenly stopped in his tracks, his nose diligently sniffing around the ground. With an amused grin, you watched as he searched for just the right spot to do his business.

After a moment of consideration, Milo found the perfect place, and you turned to Harry with a playful expression.

"Happy birthday to you," you teased, handing Harry the poo bag with a grin. He laughed and fake gagged, taking the bag with a theatrical expression of horror.

Milo, seemingly oblivious to the lighthearted banter, continued with his canine duties, contributing his unique birthday gift to the day's events.

Continuing your walk through the enchanting town, you and Harry engaged in easy conversation, the cadence of laughter punctuating the air. The narrow streets echoed with the shared joy of the day, every step deepening the connection between you two. Silly anecdotes and playful banter flowed freely, turning the casual stroll into a delightful journey of shared moments.

As you meandered through the old streets, each corner unveiled new surprises, and every twist and turn became an opportunity for discovery. The simple act of being together, immersed in the charm of the surroundings, fueled the laughter and strengthened the bond between you and Harry.

As you continued your stroll through the charming town, the sight of a small bistro with a quaint outdoor seating area caught Harry's eye.

"How about we grab a bite there? it looks like a nice spot," he suggested, nodding toward the bistro. You agreed with a smile, appreciating the thought of a cozy meal in such a picturesque setting.

Heading towards the entrance, you were met by a friendly waiter.

"How can I help you?" he inquired. Harry responded,

"Just a table outside, please." The waiter, with a welcoming smile, gestured for you to follow, leading you to a charming table nestled in the outdoor seating area. The sun cast a warm glow, creating an inviting ambiance for a leisurely meal.

Seated at the quaint table, Milo by your side, the waiter handed you the menus. "Browse through these, a waiter will be over shortly, and let me know if there's anything else you need," he offered before leaving you to peruse the options. The aroma of delectable dishes wafted through the air, enhancing the anticipation of a delightful meal in the heart of the town.

Harry, glancing at the menu, looked up at you with a playful grin.

"What are you in the mood for, m’love?" he asked.

You.

Wait what?

As you and Harry enjoyed the cozy atmosphere of the bistro, another waiter, a friendly woman with a welcoming smile, approached your table.

"Good evening! Do you know what you'd like to order?" she inquired, pen poised above her notepad.

Harry, ever decisive, was the first to respond.

"I'll have a glass of y’house red wine, please," he said, glancing at the wine list.

Turning to you, the waiter asked, "And for you, ma'am?"

You flashed a smile and softly shook your head.

"I'll just go for a fresh lemonade, please." Attempting to steer away any suspicion, you added, "Feeling like something light today."

Harry, catching the cue, chimed in, "Just a light and easygoing evening, you know?"

He winked at you, his eyes filled with playful complicity.

The waiter jotted down your drink orders and nodded. "Certainly, a glass of red wine and a fresh lemonade. Now, what can I get for your main courses?"

You perused the menu, deciding on a chicken salad, and Harry opted for the salmon antipasto. You exchanged glances, sharing a silent agreement on the choices. As the waiter collected your menu choices, she remarked,

"Excellent choices! Your orders will be out shortly. Enjoy your evening!"

With the waiter's departure, Harry leaned in with a teasing grin.

"A fresh lemonade, m’love? Feeling like a saint today, are we?" he quipped, his playful banter laced with affection.

You chuckled, playing along. "Well, saints need a refreshing drink too, don't they? Besides, I'm saving room for that delicious chicken salad."

Harry laughed, raising an eyebrow in mock suspicion. "Alright, alright, I won't question y’saintly decisions. S’just enjoy this lovely evening and the meal to come."

The waiter returned with your drinks about five minutes later, placing a glass of red wine in front of Harry and a refreshing lemonade for you. As she walked away, leaving you two to enjoy your beverages, you lifted your glass and initiated a spontaneous toast.

"Cheers to your birthday, my love," you exclaimed, your eyes sparkling with affection. "I just wanted to take a moment to say how much I love you. I can't wait to spend eternity together, celebrating moments like these."

Harry's gaze softened, and he blinked his glass against yours.

"To eternity and beyond," he replied, his voice filled with warmth. "M’the luckiest person to have you by m’side. Here's to many more birthdays and unforgettable moments together."

The bistro's ambiance embraced the intimate exchange, and you continued to express your love and appreciation for Harry.

"You make every day special, but today, on your birthday, I want it to be extra magical for you," you confessed, your sincerity echoing in the quiet moments between sips of the refreshing lemonade.

Harry's smile widened, and he reached across the table to gently squeeze your hand. "Having y’here is the best gift I could ever ask for. Every moment with you is magical, and m’grateful for it all."

/ /

As the early evening settled around the villa, you found yourselves back in the comforting haven of your shared space. In the bathroom, bathed in a soft glow, you stood before the mirror, carefully removing mascara and eyeliner.

The simple act of cleansing away the day's makeup was a routine that marked the transition from daytime adventures to the quiet moments of the evening.

Meanwhile, in the bedroom, Harry lay on the bed, Milo nestled at his feet. He absentmindedly scratched at the short growth of hair on his head, a subtle reminder of a recent decision to shave it off.

The room radiated with a sense of tranquility as you each indulged in the rituals that marked the end of the day.

Wearing one of Harry's shirts that enveloped you in the familiar scent of him, you busied yourself in the bathroom, preparing a late evening birthday surprise.

The soft rustling sounds of your movements echoed against the backdrop of Harry's contemplative scratching, creating a harmony of shared space and intimate connection.

With a soft smile gracing your lips, you glanced at yourself in the bathroom mirror before deciding it was time to return to the bedroom.

Your hands were discreetly behind your back, holding a late evening birthday surprise for Harry. As you stepped into the bedroom, Harry, already seated on the bed, noticed your presence and sat up, beckoning you with open arms.

"I want a cuddle," he declared, his eyes twinkling with a playful warmth. Unable to resist his endearing request, you let out a soft giggle at his baby-like antics.

Playfully, you approached the bed as he beckoned you forward.

Crawling onto the bed next to him, you let yourself be enveloped in his arms. You laid your head on his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart echoing comfort and love.

The anticipation of the surprise gift still hidden behind your back added an extra layer of excitement to the intimate moment.

"I missed you," Harry murmured, his voice a gentle caress. You pressed a kiss over his heart, savoring the warmth of the connection. His arms tightened around you, embracing the familiar comfort of being close.

Taking a deep breath, you looked at Harry with a warm smile, saying, "I've got one last present for you. Close your eyes."

Harry hesitated for a moment, a playful smirk tugging at his lips, before obediently shutting his eyes. With gentle steps, you moved towards him, the late evening's golden glow casting a soft ambiance around you.

In your hands, you held a delicate gift, and with a mix of hesitation and tenderness, you softly placed it in Harry's hands.

"Okay, open your eyes," you instructed, your heart fluttering with a secret that had the power to change your lives forever.

Harry blinked his eyes open, and as he glanced down at his hands, a flicker of confusion passed over his face. Then, his gaze landed on the small object nestled in his palms.

It took a moment for the realisation to sink in, and when he saw what it was, his eyes widened, and he gasped.

"What... is this?" Harry stammered, his voice shaky with emotion.

His trembling fingers picked up the small pregnancy test.

The room fell silent as the weight of the revelation settled in. Harry's eyes locked onto the test, and tears immediately welled up.

"S’this for real?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "This isn't some sick joke, right?"

You shook your head, a mixture of joy and vulnerability in your gaze. Leaning forward, you pressed your forehead against his, tears streaming down both your cheeks.

"It's true, H. I'm eleven weeks pregnant," you whispered, the magnitude of the moment engulfing you both in a wave of overwhelming emotions.

Harry's breath caught, and he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes.

"I... we're going to be parents?" he uttered, a mix of disbelief and elation in his voice.

A tender smile graced your lips, and you nodded. "Yes, Harry. We're going to be parents."

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

"I can't believe it. M’going to be a dad," he mumbled against your hair, his voice filled with a joy that echoed through the room.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Harry leaned forward, his hand gently pressing against your stomach as if trying to connect with the new life growing within.

The tender touch conveyed a depth of love that words could only strive to express. His lips found yours in a sweet, lingering kiss, and as he pulled back, he whispered, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

“This is the best birthday ever,”he spoke, chocking out a soft sob. “Thank you m’love, thank you, thank you for making us parents.”

You softly placed your hands on his cheeks to get him to look at you, and when his green eyes met yours, you smiled at him tenderly.

“Happy 30th Birthday, Baby.”

[gluion]

satin ➵ park sungho

the pink ribbons that you and your daughter used to dress up sungho now used on you.

general genre/warnings ➵ smut, fluff!, soft but teasing dom!sungho, slight shibari with ribbons, pet names (baby, teasing use of daddy), foreplay, fingering, nipple play, impregnation, creampie (duh), aftercare, ends with the start of a second round

word count➵ 4.1k words

a/n➵ i wrote this the night before my flight and also during the two planes rides back. it was so serious it was killing me. this was originally a jacob fic but anon asked for a sungho ver!! so here you go! not my proudest work ofc becoz i think ive learned more abt writing smut so tune in for that!

The early hours of the day are ones you used to dread. The sun would barely be out, the idea of sitting through countless hours of lectures, the contemplation of your ongoing list of work, work, work, that needs to be done once you return from a tiresome day.

But now, it’s different; sunlight refracts through window panes, sounds of birds bounce off the walls, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the air. The early hours of the day are ones you used to dread, but waking up has gotten easier—maybe because you have someone to wake up and go back home to.

“Daddy, one more!”

“Sweetheart, we’ll run out of ribbons for your hair! Don't you wanna show your friends your pretty, pink ribbons?”

Your eyes peel open to the sight of home—the loves of your life seated by the vanity, one helping the other get ready for school.

Well, sort of.

Your little devil continues to bubble as her nimble hands gather more satin strands while your husband, Sungho, continues to brush her hair.

The white sheets you snuggle your nose into still smell of Sungho: fresh laundry and baby powder.

“But daddy! Look at you.” Her finger points at the mirror, making his gaze land on the reflection. “You’re beautiful,” she coos, pronouncing the first half of the word like a name.

He chuckles at her compliment. “Thank you, sweetie. You’ve got a good eye for fashion.”

Sungho’s adorned with pink, satin ribbons. Every part of him that you can name probably has a ribbon tied on it; some were loose, almost as if they would fall if he were to move, but some were tight, too tight, for your liking. His skin spills from bands of satin and his muscles show off more when they’re restrained.

Maybe you needed to get out of bed.

As you sit up, the sheets rustle from the movement, causing your husband and daughter to look back at you.

Sungho’s eyebrows shoot up in shock. “Oh no, did we wake you up? I’m sorry.”

“Sorry!” Your daughter’s apology quickly follows his.

You shake your head, a smile resting on your lips as you get out of bed. As you walk towards them, your eyes catch sight of your freshly woken up state; the contrast between you and your husband and daughter has you giggling.

“God, I have a bird’s nest.”

“No! You have beautiful hair made for,” your daughter pulls out another blush strand, “ribbons!”

A pair of lips meet your cheek. “She’s right,” your husband mumbles into your skin. “You’re beautiful.”

As he parts away, you meet his gaze. He shoots you a lazy smile, one that reminds you of the times you wake up beside him, and your cheeks are dusted with rose-colored hues.

Warmth continues to spread throughout the room—not from the sun but from them.

You roll your eyes before you look at your daughter, your hand reaching out towards her. She hands you the torn-up satin and you smile. “Thank you.”

You look at the man beside you, still tied up in ribbons. Your free hand trails over where they rest—hair, forearms, waist to name a few.

(Though, you let your fingers play with the one around his waistline.)

“Where should I put this one, honey?”

Your daughter hums for a moment. Sungho shakes his head, not in disbelief that you’re playing into your daughter's shenanigans but more so that you're going to make her late for school. And it’ll be okay, you tell yourself, because he’s the one in charge of dropping her off today.

“What about the neck? Like a necklace!”

Your eyebrows shoot up at her suggestion, a playful smile now on your lips. “A good choice! I'm sure daddy will love it.” The pet name rolls off your tongue so well that it has a grunt leave Sungho. The annoyed expression flashes through his features like a blink, but he tries to cover it up with an innocent smile.

“C’mon, you'll be late if we keep doing this. Let me finish fixing your hair and then we can go to school.” He tries to take control of the situation but you won’t let him—not this time, at least.

“Nu–uh,” you disagree, moving so that you can stand right behind him. “You can do that while I put this necklace on you,” the satin piece meets his neck before you lean in to whisper into his ear, “right?”

The distance between you two—the heat of your chest against his back, your lips grazing against his ear—is enough for Sungho’s tongue to turn into cotton. It didn’t help that you were doing all of this right now, right when your daughter is here getting ready while he’s pressed for time, but he knows that it won't do any good to deny the request if you two, so he nods.

Your hands guide the ribbon to wrap around his neck, the ends meeting past his nape which gives you enough to tie it into a bow. Your fingers busy themselves trying to form a beautiful knot while Sungho focuses on brushing your daughter’s hair.

And when you tug on the satin, making it wrap tighter around his neck—pulling into his skin—he stills for a moment.

“Daddy?” Your daughter looks up.

“What’s wrong?” The question leaves your mouth, the playful tone that clings onto your words fails to make sense to her but has Sungho clenching his teeth.

“Nothing, sorry,” he quickly says with a smile to cover up his behavior. “Just got distracted.”

She’s oblivious to whatever is occurring between you two; you make the most out of the situation.

Thanks to the distance, it’s easy to hear his exhales—his sounds. His shoulders move along with them. Heavy. Deep. Desperate.

Your fingers brush against his skin, and it blooms in rose tints. When your eyes catch sight of him swallowing down nothing—everything—you can’t help but let mischief take over.

You finish tying the satin into a perfect bow. The expanse of his skin covered in rose-like hues, dolled-up just for you, is enough for warmth to spread all throughout your body.

You don’t get to see Sungho like this: all adorned with pink ribbons, restrained without being restrained to an object. It’s humorous; you’ve switched positions just this once thanks to your daughter’s shenanigans.

Your lips hover over where the bow rests, your breath grazing his skin, and it has his hair standing. Just one kiss—one bite—to complete the present, and then—

“And done!”

He jolts away while dragging your daughter along. Your gaze now lands back to your reflection, a pout now resting on your lips.

When you look at the two, a satisfied smile rests on your daughter's mouth while Sungho sports a relieved expression. “Go say bye now. We’ll be late.”

Due to your husband’s rushed words, your daughter quickly pecks your cheek, her teeth bumping against your skin. “Bye bye! I’ll see you later!” You smile at her before she rushes out of the room.

When your gaze leaves the door, it lands on Sungho who only looks at you with eyes filled with irritation, frustration, dominance. “Anyway, I’ll—”

His hands grip your waist, pulling you close to him and noses bumping against each other. His breath grazes your lips while you hold yours in.

“What was that?” The question is asked with such sweetness but you know he means the opposite.

“W—what do you mean?”

He groans into your ear. “Don’t play games with me, baby.”

There’s the Sungho you know.

Satisfaction paints his features; a smirk with eyes that flicker down occasionally to your lips. And when you feel his grip tighten around your waist, air is knocked out of your lungs. He leans forward, as if distance needs to be closed, but his lips never touch yours. “Baby, baby, baby,” he whispers with such care, and yet…

“You know what you did. Just say it.”

You know better. He’s giving you a chance to apologize—to repent—for what you did, but instead of settling for that, you lean forward, lips interlocking with his. His hand shimmies its way under your shirt, a thumb drawing circles on your hip bone, and warmth blossoms further.

You part away and lean your forehead against his. As your fingers dart towards the ribbon wrapped around his neck, fiddling with the ends of it, it takes every ounce of resolve to not tug on it. 

“Well, you need to bring her to school,” you whisper words he doesn’t want to hear.

All he wants is an apology—an explanation—for your behavior this morning, but you don’t give in, so he rolls his eyes, a chuckle leaving him before he lets go of your waist. “I’ll see you later.”

You let your hand fall back to your side and shoot him a smile. “I look forward to it.”

Before you know it, he makes his way towards the door, still wrapped in pink satin. The thought of Sungho showing up in front of your daughter’s school adorned in bows has you giggling.

“I can hear you laughing!”

You roll your eyes. “Just go!”

You wonder what he’ll bring you after he’s done with the task at hand.

If you were expecting anything good, then you were absolutely wrong.

(Well, that’s a lie. You were hoping for something, but you weren’t expecting this.)

Whatever present you were looking forward to—food from your favorite cafe that’s only a 2-minute drive from your daughter’s school or an opportunity for you to finally do whatever you want unto Sungho—couldn’t prepare you for what’s happening now.

“You just couldn’t behave.” A pair of hands roam over your torso as teeth tug on the expanse of your neck, satin grazing your skin. You hold back your sounds, eyes fluttering close, until he digs in harder, wetter.

A mewl escapes you without a second thought. His lips leave your neck and his hands focus on tugging your oversized shirt off, leaving you only in a pair of night undies.

You’re greeted once more by the sight of Sungho wrapped in satin. Your gaze trails to where the ribbons rest, some threatening to fall off of him while others still making sure his skin—his muscles—spill out.

(And it didn’t help that the white t-shirt he wears clings to his torso, probably from its fitting or thanks to the ribbons.)

His hands rest on the space around you as his legs cage you down, restricting you from any movement like you did with him.

You’re lightheaded, maybe from lip locking, the position you’re in, or even from the sight of your husband. And with your heavy breaths, a smug grin takes over Sungho’s face. His hand tugs on the loose satin around his waist, allowing it to fall on your stomach.

“What if we play dress up?” He hums as he lets his lips trail from your jaw, to your shoulder, all the way to space between your tits. He looks up at you, and says, “Like how you did with me this morning.”

A grunt leaves you.

He grabs onto the ribbon. “Don’t you think it’s only fair that I have my time with you? My fun with you?”

When you shake your head, Sungho chuckles. “Sungho, c’mon—”

“Nu–uh,” he retaliates like how you did then. “Don’t try to weasel your way out of your punishment.”

He sits and chucks his head up, signaling you to lift your torso up. You follow his orders, and his hands dart around so that the strand wraps around your upper chest. 

With his fingers busy tying a bow, your hand darts towards the ribbon wrapped around his forearm. Your fingertips fiddle with satin and his warm skin, and you both relish in your final moments of freedom.

“There we go.” Your eyes dart down to your chest, spotting a perfectly tied pink bow resting above your tits. And when his nails dig into your waist, a mewl escapes you as you arch your back.

Sungho loves it all; the ribbon that was once tied around his waist now tied right above your tits, the sounds that leave you from the different sensations of satin and his hands brushing your skin, and your hazy eyes that meet his wide ones.

He litters you with kisses, from your cheeks, neck, and chest. “You’re so pretty for me,” he mumbles in between. Once his lips hover over yours, noses grazing against each other, he whispers, “I just want to devour you.”

You catch his lips, arms wrapping around his neck as you pull him close. He moves one knee in between your legs, letting you grind your clothed slit against his thigh, as his hands find themselves on your tits. The warmth of his fingertips flicking against your nipples has them pebbling and you moan his ministrations.

He parts away. As you attempt to control your breathing, you watch him reach for the ribbon that rests on his shoulder and tug it undone. Its length is longer in comparison to the one that rests on your chest; perhaps your daughter may have overestimated how much she needed to tie around Sungho’s shoulder.

And before you know it, he grabs hold of your wrists and lets the strand circle around them. “Too tight?” He asks once he ties a knot around them.

You shake your head. “Just right.”

He smiles at you. “Good. Now,” his hands find their way on the band of your underwear, “let me taste you.”

He tugs it down, exposing you to him. The contrast between you two—nude and fully clothed—makes your head spin.

“Sungho, please.”

He hums. “‘Please’ what, darling?”

“Remove your clothes.”

“Making demands?” He clicks his tongue. “I’ll see about that.” He spends his time undoing the ribbon that’s wrapped around his arm. “Plus, I enjoy you like this, just physically unable to fulfill your desires.”

A groan rips out of your throat.

You hate Sungho.

His hands brush against your upper thigh, tying another ribbon around you. Once he finishes, his hand lingers, teasing you with the short distance between him and your slit. You’re about to curse at him, yell out profanities, until you watch his face get closer to your pussy.

He breathes you in and a groan rips out. “God, you smell delicious.”

Before you know it, his tongue darts towards your slit, drinking up your juices. A moan leaves you, your back arching at how he eats you out. And when his nose nudges against your clit, your mewls get louder, uncontrollable.

Your head is spinning from how Sungho plays with your five senses; satin strands wrapped around you, his tongue touching you in places you longed for him to graze against, the squelching noise that comes from him eating you out has your head spinning. The lack of power—control—turns you on even more.

As you attempt to look down, you’re greeted by his eyes on you, and the eye contact knocks the air out of your lungs. When his hand reaches to the bow that rests on your thigh, fingers playing with pink satin, you throw your head back.

Your lower half finds itself moving on its own, lifting itself from the mattress as it attempts to chase the pleasure, but Sungho rests his forearm on your stomach, holding you down, and continues to eat you out to his liking. Still, you try to move under the restraints; it’s reflexive, out of control. 

His mouth leaves your slit, a whine leaving you. “Baby, if you keep that up, you won’t get what you want in the end.”

You try to control your breathing, bringing your satin-tied wrists close to your face.

He finally strips off his shirt. You’re lightheaded when you look at him, top naked with one singular satin ribbon left—the one you tied around his neck.

He reaches for the button of his pants. “You’ve been such a treat for me, let me reward you.” His pants and underwear are down, revealing his hardened length that leaks pre-cum.

He moves your restrained wrists away and reaches for your lips with his; the taste of you still lingers on him. As he sucks on your bottom lip, a whine leaves you.

He moves away so that you can catch your breath—or so you thought.

Before you can control your heartbeat, you feel a finger prod its way into your pussy, having you clench over the digit. Your eyes roll back as you moan, and he curls his finger, hitting your walls.

“God, look at you. Such a moaning mess over one finger.” You do your best to look at Sungho, seeing him tonguing the inside of his cheek as he keeps his eyes on your face. It has warmth rise to your cheeks. “I wonder how you’ll take my cock. It’s been a while, after all.”

Before you know it, another finger enters you. Your eyes are wide, your bottom half filled with pleasure. And when his thumb plays with your nub, you don’t know if you’ll be ready for his cock after all.

You thrash in bed, overwhelmed by pleasure, and Sungho only watches. The sight of you struggling to do anything while he holds you down, through satin or his hands, causes more precum to leak.

“S-Sungho, I don’t—”

“No, baby, you will. You’ll hold out until you get on my cock.” It’s a demand, and you don’t know if you’ll be able to fulfill it, but you try.

That is until his finger curls hits one spot; all resolve is broken. As he notices your expression shift, he smirks and continues his ministrations. A series of moans escapes you as he continues to hit your g-spot.

You swear you feel the band about to snap, and you consider telling Sungho that you’re about to come. But for selfish reasons, you don’t want to; all you want is to finally come.

You’re close, short rapid breaths escape you as you clench tighter around his digits, until his fingers leave you.

“Fuck!” You complain only to be met with Sungho’s chuckle. “I was so close! Are you kidding me?”

He clicks his tongue. “Didn’t I tell you to hold out?” He moves close to you, his cock lining up to your pussy. “You were going to disobey me if I kept going.”

You roll your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek. You’re irritated from being left high and dry.

“Fuck you—”

His cock enters you without warning, cutting you off and causing a moan to rip out of you. He goes at a steady speed, building the pleasure up.

“You’re still tight even after that?” It’s a rhetorical question, but you only answer in a series of moans. He chuckles. “My baby can’t even answer me properly this early on and we’ve only started.”

Before you know it, his cock leaves you, causing you to whine. You were going to complain, but he flips you so that you rest on your knees and elbows. 

Without a warning, he enters once more which has a moan rip out of you. He goes at the same pace but he feels deeper, hitting crevices that your fingers could never reach.

As Sungho continues to fuck you, you try to look back at him, and you watch how his eyebrows scrunch as he watches his cock enter you. Your eyes catch sight of the pink satin that clings to his skin and you cannot help but clench around his cock, making him moan along with you.

He finally notices your eyes on him, and he tongues the inside of his cheek. Then, he leans forward, face-to-face with you as his chest is pressed against your back.

“Baby.” he smiles at you—not a smug one but one filled with adoration. And yet…

“Should we try for another?” The air is knocked out of your lungs. His smile turns sinister as he feels you grow wetter at the thought. “Wouldn’t you love that? Another baby? Another opportunity to be filled to the brim?”

As he starts to pick up the pace, you can’t hold back your moans. “God, you just want to be filled with my cum, don’t you? Wouldn’t you love that? Just us trying again, again, again, for another baby, me filling you with cum.”

He watches your breathing get heavy over the idea; to be filled with Sungho’s cum for days, weeks, months, years as if it were your only job or purpose in life.

You feel it coming; the rubber band is about to snap at any moment.

“Fuck, I’m close—”

“Come for me. Do it, baby,” he chants such words. “I’m going to come. Going to fill you up, going to impregnate you,” he growls as he keeps going at such a fast pace. “And we’ll keep going baby, going to make sure you’re filled with so much cum that I’ll have to plug my fingers to keep it in.”

Your pants get heavier as you try to meet his thrusts. You’re so close but you don’t know what you need. You’re too light headed to think of what to do until you feel fingertips draw circles on your clit. Your moans get louder. Uncontainable.

You rip your gaze away from him, overwhelmed by the pleasure, and it lands on your satin-tied wrists. “Come for me, baby. Let me impregnate you,” he whispers into your ear.

The rubber band snaps. You clench around his cock as you come as a long moan leaves you, and Sungho can’t help but fill you with his cum.

It doesn’t stop. He keeps thrusting, riding out his high to ensure that you’re filled with enough.

Once he stills, you find yourself collapsing down to the bed. You attempt to control your breathing, eyes shut from what just occurred.

“Baby, let me flip you. I need to remove the ribbons,” Sungho says with care.

You only hum. His cock leaves you, causing you to hiss as you’re still sensitive. His hands find themselves on your waist, flipping you so that you face him, and he undoes the ribbon wrapped around your wrists. He then takes the opportunity to examine your wrists.

“Does it hurt?”

You shake your head, smiling at your husband. “I’m okay.” You still see the pink satin wrapped around his neck. “That was good.”

He chuckles before pecking your lips. He takes in the sight of you in your fucked-out state dressed in pink ribbons that were once wrapped around him and his heart grows warm.

As his eyes trail down to your slit, he gasps. “Oh no, it’s leaking.” His fingers scoop his cum that leaks out of your pussy and shoves it back in, another hiss leaving you. “We don’t want to waste any cum.”

A giggle leaves you. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him in for another kiss. “I love you.” Your fingers graze against the ribbon that still rests around his neck. “I’m glad you kept this on.”

He hums. “I mean, I knew it turned you on, so I played into it. I understand though. After seeing you tied up, maybe I need to learn shibari.”

You gulp at his words and he notices. A smirk lies on his lips. “Of course, I should’ve known. How come I never knew about this?”

You shrug. “I don’t know—well, I do know. I think I was just too shy to bring it up.”

“Baby,” he starts off, giving you another kiss, “there’s no need to be shy around me. I would love to know everything about you, even what gives you the most pleasure. What else do you like?”

You chew on your cheek. “Well, I really want to do shibari on you.”

“Deal.”

“I know you might not—wait, really?”

His lips press against your cheek. “I’m willing to try it out.” You cannot help yourself but smile. “So, now?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Sungho, you just gave me the most earth-shattering orgasm of my life, and your fingers are still in me. I don’t know if I can go another round.”

“You sure?” he smirks before letting his lips trail to your neck. “Just a little foreplay can change that.” He starts to suck on your skin, and you cannot help but let a moan slip. And when his fingers start to move, your eyes roll back.

God, you need to buy more ribbons for your daughter.

(And for you and Sungho, of course.)

taglist: @onedoornet @kflixnet

[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 17 | 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 and depictions of medical treatment (mentions of an IV, not overly descriptive), fluff (!), angst, A LOT of pent-up emotions, SLOW BURN

words: 15.5k (help)

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 17 ► looking sideways when i say i’m okay with the past, but i’m afraid of what i might say if you ask

When you regained consciousness, it took you a few more minutes to understand what was happening.

In your hazy mind, the first clear thought you could grasp was a memory: Jungkook had gotten into a fight. Instinctively, you imagined yourself standing up and finding him. Not because your job required you to—honestly, you weren’t sure what job you even had at this point, your mind hadn’t sorted itself out yet—but because you wanted to see if he was okay.

You tried to open your eyes, but the room was spinning, and you felt a little queasy from the unexpected vertigo.

You shut your eyes again and tried to focus on your other senses—as best as you could without moving—hoping that this would answer some of the new questions forming in your mind.

You did not know where you were or how you got here, but the room was warm. The lack of proper ventilation made the air feel stuffy.

You didn’t hear any background noise, so you assumed you weren’t at a hospital. But you could hear a lot of shouting in the room. You thought you discerned three different voices, but they were all talking over each other, so it was hard to tell.

You were lying on something soft but scratchy, and a heavy duvet pressed you into the bed. It felt comforting, but you were starting to sweat.

Someone’s hand was on your wrist, their fingers cold.

Reflexively, you squeezed their hand.

“Don’t move,” someone whispered right next to you. Jungkook, you realised. “We’ve called a doctor.”

Your initial reaction was relief. He was here, so he had to be okay.

Your next reaction, however, was pure panic. You didn’t need a doctor. You just needed a minute.

“We should have taken her to a hospital,” another voice argued. “I’ll never forgive you if anything happens to her.”

That had to be Luna, you were sure of it. Your eyes remained closed, but you could envision your friend with her arms crossed over her chest, regarding the boy next to you with a scorching glare.

You didn’t like this mention of a hospital.

You squeezed Jungkook’s hand again, but even as he tried to explain to Luna that you would go on a particularly bloody rampage if he took you to a hospital—he had a point and you would have felt grateful if you hadn’t been so distressed—she still wasn’t hearing him.

You opened your mouth and felt your chapped lips tighten painfully.

“No hospital, please,” you croaked in the voice of someone who had been a successful chain smoker for over fifty years.

You heard Luna whisper-yell, “you’re unbelievable, the both of you!” and you tried to open your eyes again, but nothing had changed. It still felt a bit like gravity had taken a day off as the room and everyone around you continued to float.

You heard a faint voice that you did not recognise, and from the official tone and the immediate chill you felt inside, you deduced that it was the doctor.

“I’m going to administer a very mild sedative,” he said—to whom, you weren’t sure. Your insides felt very heavy. “And set up a drip. Make sure she doesn’t move much or the catheter will—oh, see, like that. That can’t happen.”

Your muscles spasmed involuntarily. Something pricked your arm. You didn’t mind needles, but you did not like IVs. You didn’t need to be sedated.

“I don’t think—” you tried to say when you felt something cold on your arm—the doctor’s hands, presumably, in very unpleasant, squeaky latex gloves. “I don’t think I need this.”

“Can you open your eyes for me, please?” the doctor asked.

“No,” you said with what you hoped was a shake of your head. In reality, you merely wrinkled your nose. “T-that is not something I can do right now. But in a—”

“Your body needs rest,” the doctor explained. Jungkook moved closer until he was clutching your hand with both of his. “It won’t knock you out, but it will relax you, make you a little drowsy. That will likely help you fall asleep naturally. Is that all right?”

You lacked the strength to tell him that you were already very tired—or the strength to tell him that you still had things to do, so you couldn’t just sleep.

The memory of the flooding at the venue in Manchester came back to your mind and your muscles tensed again.

Really, you were about to refuse, but there was hardly anything you disliked more than inconveniencing people. They had invited a doctor for you. He was just doing his job.

“Okay,” you said in quiet defeat.

“Your friends are in the room with you,” the doctor said. You felt a cold sensation on your arm. “They will stay with you and make sure you get plenty of rest. Even after you wake up, you must spend as much time in bed as you possibly can.”

“Don’t phrase it like that,” you heard Jungkook object. “Give us a specific time, or she’ll be out of bed as soon as she wakes up.”

Silence followed. You tried to imagine what was happening. Jungkook must have looked very eager—in his exaggerated manner, which resembled desperation rather than hope. Luna probably nodded in agreement. The doctor, if he was kind enough, smiled at them patiently.

“Two days,” he finally stated. “Today and tomorrow, at the very least. If she has to walk, someone should accompany her. But don’t keep her on her feet for too long. I’ve seen the crowd of people outside this room—don’t tire her out. There should only be one or two people in the room with her, all right? Proper nutrition, sufficient sleep, and a—”

You felt yourself drifting off, and the doctor’s words faded and merged together until you were no longer sure whether you were imagining what a doctor would say in this situation, or if he was actually speaking.

When you opened your eyes again, Luna and Maggie were seated in the armchairs next to your bed. The room had stabilised, allowing you to take in your surroundings before Luna glanced up from her phone and Maggie pulled out her earpods, noticing that you were awake.

The space around you appeared to be a hotel room. Next to the bed stood a metal bar with bags of faint yellow liquid on it. A catheter was attached to your arm and an intravenous line led to it from the drip. You shivered at the sight of it.

“Oh!” Luna’s gasp drew your attention back to her. She dropped her phone on her seat and straightened up. “How are you feeling?”

Right away, Maggie jumped up and removed her earpods.

“Confused,” you spoke and immediately tried to clear your prickly throat.

Maggie leapt forward and grabbed an empty glass from the bedside table. She poured some water from one of the three bottles on the floor and handed it to you.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had water. It tasted heavenly.

“You’re in a hotel room,” Luna explained as you drank. Maggie sat down on the armrest of her friend’s chair. “In Manchester.”

The mention of the city made you glare at her, and both girls breathed a sigh of relief. At least you knew where you were in a broader sense.

“It’s 7 PM,” Luna said after checking her phone. “The band has a day off tomorrow because the concert’s been postponed—”

“Because of the flooding,” you finished, leaning forward to put the glass back on the table. “I remember, Luna. Thanks. What, um—how come I’m here?”

Luna looked at Maggie for a moment, wordlessly asking her to take over the story.

“Well, you fainted,” Maggie started. She wasn’t usually a woman of many words, and this time was no different, which you found comforting. If Maggie didn’t think it was necessary to talk for hours, then you must not have been doing that bad. “Jungkook found you.”

“Yeah,” Luna had to interject with more details—she was still irked about his decision to book a hotel room instead of a hospital room. “And then he spent half an hour describing your symptoms. It took the doctor all of one second to diagnose you with burnout and put you on a vitamin drip. He told us to keep you on bed rest and watch for any more nosebleeds or fainting spells. If they continue, you’ll need to go into urgent care.”

You wanted to ask questions—where did they find this doctor? Where was this hotel? What was happening at the venue?—but the girls were on a roll.

“Meanwhile, I wasn’t even allowed in the room,” Maggie said, returning to her chair and sitting down properly. She was upset that she had missed what Luna had just summarised for you. “The doctor told us that only one person could stay, but neither Luna, nor Jungkook agreed to leave. So, no one else could come in until you were feeling better.”

“Jungkook was the one who decided on the hotel room, by the way,” Luna remarked, seemingly glad to finally express her frustrations. “I argued. I think you should at least have a blood test done. What if you’re anaemic? But—”

“I’m not anaemic,” you finally interrupted as you settled back on the bed. The mattress quickly adjusted to the shape of your body. Closing your eyes, you had to admit that the bed was really quite comfortable. Perhaps you could stay here for a few more hours. “This has happened to me before. I’ll be fine.”

Luna sighed. Her knowledge of the last time this had happened to you came from Jungkook’s haphazard stream of thought as he tried to explain to the doctor that the two of you had been in this exact situation before—you, unconscious, and he, on the verge of losing his mind.

Honestly, for a moment, Luna thought the doctor had considered sedating Jungkook instead of you.

“I knew you were going to say that,” she muttered after a minute. “Jungkook seemed to believe you’d shoot us all dead if we took you to a hospital.”

Gratitude bubbled up in your chest, but when you saw your friend’s solemn features, you tried to soften your response.

“I wouldn’t have shot you,” you said. “I would have smothered you all with pillows."

Maggie scoffed, and Luna rolled her eyes, but the corners of her lips still turned up.

“Nice to see you haven’t gained a sense of humour while you were out,” Maggie teased.

“Ha,” you responded dryly—but you were smiling, too.

Luna crossed her legs on the armchair to get more comfortable. She glanced at Maggie anxiously. The girls weren’t sure if they were tiring you out with their conversation, but you were looking up at the ceiling, not indicating that you were tired in any way, so they decided to continue.

“So, want to tell us how this happened, then?” Luna asked.

You turned your head to her. “I was hoping you’d tell me. I can’t exactly remember.”

“You fainted,” Maggie reminded you. Luna leaned over and gave her a pat on the arm, thanking her for this valuable reminder.

You smiled gently. “You mentioned that. Where’d the doctor come from?”

“Oh, Jungkook found one,” Maggie said. “There’s a clinic across the street from the venue. And this hotel is right next door.”

“Oh.”

A minute passed as you attempted to piece it all together.

You could not remember any of this, but the news that Jungkook had taken care of most things was not calming. He must have really been going out of his mind.

You were curious about where he was, but you didn’t want to ask. Your paranoid mind made you think that any question about Jungkook that was not related to Rated Riot was unnecessary and would, therefore, be misunderstood. Your friends already seemed like they were resisting a few additional comments for the sake of your health.

“So,” Luna started after a quiet minute, “how come you fainted?"

You exhaled and tried to scratch your eyebrow, but the catheter tugged painfully at your skin, and you winced instead.

You dropped your hand back down. “I-I... I guess I overestimated myself.”

Luna pushed the IV stand closer to your bed so you could have more freedom with your limbs. You nodded gratefully.

“You’re going to have to slow down,” Luna said. “It’s no longer negotiable, I’m afraid. If you don’t listen to us, we will take you to a hospital.”

It was the plural pronoun that bothered you the most, but you forced yourself to swallow your discomfort at disrupting the daily routines of your friends.

“I’ll be alright soon,” you said. “And I promise this won’t happen again.”

“It had better not,” Maggie chimed in. “And what’s with this hatred of hospitals? You don’t like that they’re full of people who want to help you feel better?”

“I don’t hate them,” you said, which wasn’t entirely true. Your experiences in hospitals included your mum crying, and you’d rather not relive that—not so soon after your brother broke his leg. “I just don’t have time for them. I’m okay.”

Luna gave you a stern look. Even Maggie, who was usually quite calm when you said you were fine, was glowering a little.

“Fine,” you conceded. “I’ll endure this drip and then I'll be okay. Thank you for being here.”

Luna made a deliberate scene of fixing the bags on the metal stand—clearly intending to emphasise the seriousness of your condition—and then lowered herself back into her armchair.

“You’re welcome,” she said.

Smiling at both of your girls—to distract them from further discussing your health—you said, “I love you.”

“We love you, too,” Maggie said. “And, babe, just so you know, it’s not just us. There was—everyone was here. The concierge nearly fainted when he saw us all in the hallway.”

Your smile quickly fell. “What do you mean, everyone?”

“We took care of it, don’t worry,” Luna interjected, sensing your growing panic. “Maggie and I talked to Seokjin, Jimin, and Namjoon, who then spoke to the rest of the staff and escorted them out. And Jungkook took care of his band.”

The panic lingered. Your job was solving crises, not causing them. You did not like this.

“He took care of them?” you repeated, swallowing.

“Well, they were very worried,” Luna explained, glancing at Maggie for help. Maggie only nodded, indicating her agreement. “And, uh, they were very loud, too. He told them to go and texted them updates every ten minutes.”

“God.” You closed your eyes and carefully tried to prop yourself up into a half-sitting position. “What updates? I was asleep.”

“That’s what he’s been texting them,” Luna explained. “Every ten minutes, on the dot. And then Taehyung texted me, asking why I kicked his best friend out of your room—which is ridiculous because I did not kick him out. But you’re my best friend, so technically, I would have had the right to kick him out if you were uncomfortable.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose with your hand and shook your head, an involuntary smile creeping onto your face at your friend’s protectiveness. “I’m comfortable. Thank you.”

“Are you going to see him?” Maggie asked.

You looked up at her. “Jungkook?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “He’s right behind the door, you know. Glued to the wall in the hallway.”

Your gaze slid down her dark blue jacket and focused on the mirror on the wall behind her. “Oh.”

“The doctor said he would need to go to the hospital, too, by the way,” Luna said, earning a surprised look from you. “He said the bandages around his head looked very threatening.”

You pressed your lips together. You’d expected that, but you still felt a fleeting twinge of disappointment—you’d covered his wounds to the best of your ability. And the bandages were honestly not the worst part of this.

“The doctor hasn’t even seen what’s underneath,” you said.

“He has now, actually,” Maggie replied. “He went to the emergency room about an hour ago to have them changed.”

You were too taken aback to properly understand her. “Jungkook did?”

“Yeah,” Luna said, pulling her phone out. Your mind tuned out her next few sentences as you struggled to come to terms with the fact that Jungkook had gone to the emergency room on his own accord. “—and he called us from the hospital. Apparently, he pestered the nurses with questions about what else we could do to help you feel better. They told him to leave, but he wanted to hear from us—in case we thought you needed anything. I wouldn’t be surprised if he brought a heart monitor here, just in case.”

Maggie snickered—but caught the serious looks on the faces around her and covered it up with a fractured cough—while you groaned and rubbed your eyes. You wouldn’t have been surprised, either.

You exhaled. “Yeah—I-I’ll see him. If that’s okay with you?”

Both girls nodded and got up from their seats. Before they went, however, they convinced you to accept their help to complete the difficult task—as you pointed out while rolling your eyes—of walking ten steps to the bathroom, and then ten steps back to your bed. Clearly, they were taking the doctor’s orders very seriously.

“We’ll be right outside,” Luna said once you settled back in bed. “Call or text—”

“No,” you protested. “You can’t—you don’t need to stay here. You’ve already done so much.”

“We were just sitting in your room with you,” Maggie said. “It’s hardly anything. Don’t worry about us.”

“It’s not hardly anything,” you disagreed. “At least get something to eat.”

The two girls looked at each other. Maggie shrugged and then looked back at you, still doubtful. You nodded with more conviction.

“We’ll pick up some food for everyone and come back,” Luna finally decided. “Okay?”

You nodded again. “Okay. Thank you.”

As soon as the girls opened the door to your hotel room, you heard shuffling outside—as if someone had been leaning right up against the door and scrambled away before it opened.

“You may come in,” Luna told Jungkook with excessive dramatics as she and Maggie turned to wave at you again.

You gave them another nod and watched as Jungkook tentatively walked inside. He turned to close the door behind him and lingered, for an awkward moment, at the entrance.

His bandages were fresh and none of the scantily wrapped bruises were visible any longer. Perhaps they would heal in time for the concert.

Before you could express your hopes out loud, however, Jungkook took a shaky breath and approached you.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t know what I would have done if—”

“W-why are you sorry?” you cut him off, disturbed by the absolute devastation in his voice.

He was right next to your bed now, barely able to inhale. “It’s—you—you fainted—and—it was because—I shouldn’t—”

It hit you, suddenly, why he was hyperventilating so much. And the shock of this realisation was so great that you could not react immediately, and he proceeded to stutter for another few moments.

“This—it has nothing—this isn’t about you,” you finally said, almost as coherent as he was.

Still, he persisted, “but I—you—I was—I should have—”

“I didn’t faint because of you, Jungkook,” you said more firmly. There were several reasons why he should have felt guilty, of course, but this was definitely not one of them.

He finally stopped speaking, although the rapid process of inhaling and exhaling—which caused his shoulders to hunch and straighten from the intensity of the motions—continued for another minute.

Then he gave you a long, uncertain look. You maintained eye contact and watched as his breathing gradually slowed. You had never seen him panic so much and so suddenly—he had seemed almost perfectly fine when he came in, but it took him all of two seconds to fall apart.

Slowly, he regained control of his breathing and looked you over once more.

“Okay,” he said, shifting his weight to his other leg. “I-I don’t know if that—if it makes me feel better, but—”

“Thank you,” you said.

Lost in his own thoughts, he craned his neck towards you. “Hm?”

“Luna and Maggie told me you’re the one who found me.”

Jungkook looked briefly embarrassed.

“I explicitly asked them not to tell,” he said.

You smiled. “I’m sure this was Force majeure, so don’t blame them. And they’re my best friends anyway.”

“Clearly.” He brought his hands down his face before admitting, “I just—I thought you wouldn’t want to see me.”

A part of you thought he was right to assume that. You shouldn’t want to see him.

But another part of you forced you to lower your gaze and twiddle your thumbs nervously as you linked your hands on your stomach.

“No, uh, see,” you began with a nervous chuckle. “That’s, uh—that’s almost the worst part of this whole thing. My plan, really, was to avoid you.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows, then politely lowered them. He placed his hand on the back of the armchair and said, profoundly, “very mature.”

“You don’t get to judge,” you warned.

The corner of his lip quirked. “Just making an observation.”

“So, my plan was to avoid you,” you continued. “But we both know how that ended. And then I woke up here, sort of feeling like I was floating in a space station somewhere near Saturn, and you know what my first thought was?”

Jungkook thought he was floating in a space station somewhere near Saturn.

“Wh—um, what?” he asked.

“My first thought was if you were okay.”

You looked at him as you said that, and he thought he saw the rest of his life flash before his eyes—a life that, just a few days ago, he’d deemed meaningless.

Without any proper distractions, it was just him and his thoughts, and they were never good company. They hated him for losing you.

But then you fainted and now that you’ve regained consciousness, your first thought was if he was okay.

He didn’t trust his legs very much anymore.

“Can I sit?” he asked, a little breathless again.

You took a second to reply, and he interpreted it as a sign of hesitation. “You can.”

Suspicious, he asked, “will you try to leave if I sit?”

You gave him a questioning look and nudged your hand, causing the IV bags to wobble. “Does it look like I can move around with this?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “You might still try.”

You snorted and shook your head. “Just sit down, Jungkook.”

He sat down.

The two of you were a peculiar sight like this. If this were a role-playing video game, there would have been exclamation marks over your heads—and if you had been approached, the list of conversation starters the player could choose would have been, simply, endless.

There was so much you wanted to say and ask each other, but the strength of your resistance was absurdly impressive.

One thought, however, overwhelmed everything, and it was very simple: how little everything else mattered compared to your health.

Jungkook took a deep breath and looked at you, taking in your tired, but ceaselessly dreamlike features.

Slowly, he found himself calming down. As long as you were here, as long as you were okay, things would work out one way or another.

“I, um—your mum called, by the way,” Jungkook said. “I have your phone. It fell out of your jacket when I—when I found you.”

Right away, you felt a surge of panic. You and your mum had a deal. She knew you were busy, so she would text sometimes, but never call. Unless something had happened.

“My—she called me?” you repeated with so much concern that Jungkook noticed the drip stand shake a little from the force of your distress. “Did you answer?”

He felt his own hands return to their almost natural trembling. “Uh, well, as it happened—I did.”

“Why did she call? What happened?”

“Well, nothing,” he said. “She said she hadn’t heard from you in a while, and she was worried.”

Mother’s intuition, she had called it when she spoke to you. When you returned to your dorm after your hospital stay six years ago, she had called you because “for some reason” she couldn’t sleep for two nights in a row. She didn’t know you were ill, of course, but it touched you, this maternal feeling that transcended all logic.

It could have been a coincidence, you supposed. Lots of things were.

“What did you say?” you asked.

“I said you had a lot of things to take care of,” Jungkook replied. “But you’d call her when you had a free moment.”

You watched him as he spoke and noticed his eyes widen momentarily, clearly taken aback by what he’d just seen in your expression. You realised you hadn’t expected him to hide this from your mum, and your surprise must have shown.

Blinking, you turned away and gripped the edge of your duvet.

“Thank you,” you said.

“I also told her you’re very stressed,” he added quieter.

“Oh—well, that—you could have kept that to yourself,” you said, less enthusiastic about his thoughtfulness. “She’s going to freak out about it.”

“Let her,” he countered. “You’re her child. She’s worried about you. You have to let people worry about you when there’s a reason to.”

You had a different opinion, of course. But instead of arguing, you chose to find out what conclusions your mum had drawn from this brief exchange. She hadn’t heard from Jungkook directly in years, even though she knew you were working together.

“What did she—was she surprised to hear from you?” you asked.

Your question made Jungkook appear as if he was trying very hard to tap dance while sitting down. He bounced his legs, tapped his feet, and occasionally scratched something under his chin, above his nose, or on the back of his neck.

“Uh, well, we’re, um, you know,” he said. You were almost ready to assume that he was hiding something else. “You and me—w-we’re working together. She wasn’t that surprised.”

“Right, but I mean—”

“I told her not to worry too much, and that you’d love to hear from her,” he finished, skilfully diverting from the topic and speaking even louder so you wouldn’t have a chance to interject with another question. “She said she’d text you, and you should call her when you have a minute. Not right now, though. You’re resting now.”

Again, you tried, “I’m just—”

“She put Kai on the phone, too,” he added. “So, I talked to him for a second. He called you an idiot.”

That took a very unusual turn, you thought in surprise. Your mum hadn’t spoken to Jungkook in years, and now she wanted to put your brother on the phone, too—you were simply confused.

“He—why’d he say that?” you asked, presently more unnerved by the name-calling than your mother’s unexpected choices.

“For forgetting to call your mum, he said. And for working too much,” Jungkook replied. “Which is precisely what I warned you about in Amsterdam, so I honestly can’t believe this happened to you again. We asked you to take it easy, so at least listen to us now, and—”

It was hard to breathe in this still room, with the force of everyone’s concern weighing you down.

Slowly, you kicked one leg out from under the duvet. “I did take it easy.”

“Right,” he said, closing his eyes and mumbling, “you never fucking take it easy.”

You heaved yourself up to your feet, holding onto the IV stand for support. “I was—”

Jungkook looked up and jumped to his feet as soon as he realised what you were doing. “Where are you going? Sit down.”

“I’m fine. I’m just—”

He blocked your way, quickly ensuring that you did not have enough space to take another step.

“See, I told you you’d do this,” he groaned, his chest pressed against yours. “Just sit down.”

You tried not to stagger backwards—which was his intention, of course—and still stood your ground. “I just want to open the window, I’m—”

“Sit down.”

Huffing in angry resignation, you sat back down.

“Okay,” he said, stepping back from the bed to give you more space. “Now lie down.”

You rolled your eyes but settled back into a horizontal position, glaring at him all the while.

“Should I roll over, too?” you bit. “Give you a paw?”

“Not unless you want to.”

You bared your teeth. “Funny.”

“Just lie down, please,” he reiterated. “And just—just rest, okay? For a little while, at least. I’ll open the window.” He saw you open your mouth and added hurriedly, “I know you can do it yourself. But let me.”

Sighing, you surrendered to the warm confines of the duvet. “Okay. Thanks.”

He crossed the room and struggled with the curtains for a moment. He could tell you were watching him, and he felt irrationally nervous—he thought that if he did something wrong, you would try to get up again. Finally, he grabbed the handle of the window, twisted it and pulled. A moment or two later, a welcome breeze finally filled the stuffy room.

Relieved to be able to breathe something other than your discomfort, you watched Jungkook return to his armchair.

“You didn’t tell me if you’re okay,” you reminded him. “How’s your eye?”

He looked confused as he lifted his hand—as if to verify if the eye in question was still there—then paused and dropped it again.

“It’s working,” he said, sitting back down next to your bed.

“And the pain?”

He shrugged. “Bearable.”

“Good,” you said, slipping your hands under the covers and resting them on your stomach. “I’m glad you took out your eyebrow piercing before the whole thing with Sid, by the way. Otherwise, we might have had even more problems.”

Jungkook didn’t want that to be your shared problem—he was determined to carry out his plan, which he boldly referred to as “Getting My Shit Together”—but at the same time, he was glad that he didn’t cause you any additional distress. Honestly, he couldn’t have cared less about his piercings right now.

“I—yeah.” He rubbed his eyebrow absentmindedly. “I hadn’t planned it like that, but it worked out, I guess.”

“Did you get any rest?” you asked then.

The question felt misplaced, and his stomach sank at the sheer wrongness of it. You were always worried about others. And he always gave you reasons to worry.

Really, while he was happy—alright, ecstatic—that you thought of him, he should have been the one asking you this.

“How, uh—how do you mean?” he returned.

“After the flight,” you said.

He looked down at the beige carpet under his boots and shook his head. He couldn’t have slept even if he wanted to—not until he was sure you weren’t on your feet, insisting you were okay.

“I don’t need rest,” he said.

But as you looked at him, it was clear that rest was exactly what he needed. Beneath the imposing bandages, his eyes were bloodshot, and his skin was pale and waxy. He was still beautiful—Maggie would have made a joke about it—but in a way that made your heart ache if you looked at him too long.

“You should go,” you said. “Get some sleep.”

Jungkook gave you a look as if you had just confessed that you enjoyed beheading people in your spare time: incredulous and slightly offended.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.

This was going to turn into a childish game, you knew it. But you tapped your thumbs together and still tried.

“What if I want to be alone?” you asked.

“Then I’ll call Luna and Maggie.”

Your arched eyebrows challenged his solution.

“When I said alone,” you clarified, “I didn’t mean not with you.”

For just a split second, he looked almost relieved to hear this. Then he bit his lip and brought a hand over his knee.

“If my presence is not the problem,” he said, “then I’m staying.”

“The problem,” you argued, “is that you’re going to end up in this bed, connected to an IV, if you don’t sleep.”

“Let’s cut to the chase,” he offered. “I’m not leaving you alone. In fact, I’m staying. Unless you explicitly tell me you can’t stand to look at me anymore.”

He gave you an opening to tease, and you enjoyed building up to it as you looked down and ran your tongue over your lips.

“And, uh, you’d leave then?” you asked—taunted, really.

“Begrudgingly,” he replied, as discontented as you were amused.

You nodded. “Alright.”

He raised his eyebrows, slightly dispirited. “You’re going to tell me to go?”

“No,” you said. “Stay.”

So he stayed.

And this moment in the hotel room, as the vitamin drip dribbled quietly into the intravenous tube, did not just feel bizarre. It felt a little like a parallel universe—like you’d lost consciousness in a world where you were very angry and very stressed, and had woken up in a world where only subtle echoes of all the fervent emotions you’d once felt existed.

In this world, all that you were feeling was eclipsed by what really mattered: the people who were in this room with you and had been waiting outside of it.

But you felt another particularly prominent sentiment, which was heightened even more by Jungkook’s relentless focus on you. You did not want to name it, however. To identify it was to give it power over you, and you liked to believe that you had your heartbeat under control right now.

“It’s like—this is just like back then again,” Jungkook said suddenly. “Isn’t it?”

You exhaled, returning to the jagged, uncertain moment.

“Yeah...” you said, stretching the vowels in a frantic attempt to fill the space that would soon turn into an awkward silence. “Thank you for not taking me to a hospital this time. This really isn’t so bad.”

“It is bad,” he disagreed right away. “But I didn’t want you to have another reason to feel stressed. I thought a hotel room would relax you more than a hospital room.”

“It would,” you said. “Thanks.”

He hung his head. “Yeah.”

Not the awkward silence, not the awkward silence, not the—

“Well,” you inhaled, “at least you won’t have to study for any finals this time, right?”

You expected him to smile back at the gentle jab about him failing his exam the last time you were in the hospital. But when Jungkook looked up, he looked crestfallen somehow—almost like he was disappointed that he did not have to study for finals this time.

“Yeah, um, actually—I-I didn’t fail my exam because I didn’t study for it,” he said in a slow, contemplative tone. He wasn’t sure if he could ever admit this to you, but he figured he didn’t have much left to lose. He’d already told you so much. He might as well tell you all the rest. “I failed because your friend texted me about twenty minutes before my final, saying that you left your exam looking very disoriented. She asked if I could check on you.”

Horror descended on your face as you realised what he meant.

“You went to look for me,” you surmised painfully, “and didn’t show up to take your final.”

He nodded and you shook your head with a newfound ferocity.

“Jungkook,” you said, remembering how you reacted when he first told you he had failed—how you immediately blamed his recklessness and his friends. How you brought up all of his mistakes and thought this was another one of them.

“You passed out,” he said. “I don’t regret it.”

“I yelled at you so much!” you continued, lost in your own guilt. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“You helped me study, too,” he defended, feeling almost uncomfortable. He’d never felt your reaction was inappropriate, even under the circumstances. He had failed the exam, after all—like he’d failed several others before.

You shook your head again. “Yeah, but—”

“It’s fine,” he cut you off.

“It’s not fine!” you refuted immediately. “It was my fault you failed.”

“It wasn’t your—”

“I thought it was your friends again,” you said. “I thought they distracted you, and you didn’t study.”

There it was—this vast precipice between what you thought had happened and what had actually happened. Now that years have passed, Jungkook didn’t even know where to start.

The fact was this: you believed that every time he failed you, it was his friends’ fault—and that belief comforted him. It was so appropriate, so fitting.

And sometimes it was true, but even when it wasn’t—when it was just him, not being good enough—your assumption that it was Sid’s fault didn’t paint Jungkook as desperate; merely reckless. Not hopeless, only a little dumb. He preferred it this way.

But now he took a deep breath.

“My friends did distract me from a lot of things,” he said. “But the truth is, sometimes… I tried too hard, and I didn’t want you to know about it. I couldn’t stand the thought of trying to do something for you and then—just completely fucking everything up and letting you down. Sometimes blaming my friends was a convenient excuse.”

You frowned. “What—what are you talking about?”

“Well,” he wiped his palms on his black cargo pants and stretched out his legs, “remember when we were planning to go on holiday together and I fucked up?”

Your frown deepened.

“Hawaii?” you asked. “When you bought the tickets home for the same day we were flying there?”

“Uh…” He hadn’t realised he’d messed up several times. “No. Different holiday. When I missed the train we were supposed to take to the beach? For our summer break?”

“Oh.” You nodded. “I remember. But I saw Sid’s Instagram videos with you, drinking at his garage. I know you were—”

“Those were old videos. And he posted them at a very bad time, which, honestly,” he chuckled sadly, “it’s nothing new for Sid. He seized every opportunity to make me miserable, and I was—I relied on that sometimes. I think he wanted to start an argument between us on the train, that’s why he posted those videos. The truth is, though, I didn’t even see him that day. I missed the train because I wanted to rent out a car and surprise you.”

The quiet confusion on your face prompted him to keep going.

“I didn’t want just any car,” he explained. “I wanted the same Cadillac convertible I’d rented out for our first anniversary.”

You had fond memories of the convertible. Not of the actual drive, which was, honestly, quite painful—there were bugs and unruly strands of your hair everywhere—but of the laughter you’d shared inside.

“It was summer, finally warm enough outside,” Jungkook recalled. “I thought it would be a nice way to relax after studying. I even, uh—I made decorations and everything. Glittery, silver letters that said, ‘just passed our finals’. It’s a play on ‘just married’, you know? It’s a—a joke.”

Eager to understand where this was going, you remained frozen on the bed, and Jungkook felt himself waver slightly. He was glad you weren’t laughing—he dreaded you’d laugh or find any of this as embarrassing as he did—but he slid his hands under his thighs anyway, as if to warm them.

“The thing is, though,” he continued. “I didn’t take my passport with me. Because you don’t need a passport when you’re taking the fucking train, but you can’t rent a car without one, and those fucking assholes at the rental shop—anyway. I went back to my dorm to pick it up, and by the time I got back, the rental shop had closed for lunch. And I missed the train.”

Your heartbeat was steady—fast, absolutely speeding, but steady nonetheless. It hadn’t slowed since he started speaking.

Your expression, however, was almost painfully concentrated. When he looked at you, it seemed as if you were listening to a séance where a spirit was recounting their death.

You cleared your throat and tried to speak. “I thought—”

“You thought I forgot about our trip and went out with Sid,” Jungkook finished for you.

You didn’t have to confirm it, he knew. The hope that this was what you would assume was his safety blanket—this way, he didn’t have to face the fact that he could never do anything right for you, not even when he tried so hard to.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.

You weren’t angry at him for this because he’d made it to the beach later that night, after all. He had taken the last train and barged into your cabin just after midnight. You had nearly knocked him out with a bedside lamp, assuming it was an intruder.

But you didn’t understand the point of allowing you to believe—for years—that it was Sid’s fault. Why didn’t he defend himself?

“Because—did you not hear me describe the letters I’d cut out from glittery paper?” Jungkook asked, his voice high-pitched in irritation at himself. “It’s embarrassing. I should have just met you at the train station like I said I would.”

“Well, why didn’t you?” you questioned. “Why put all this effort?”

“Because I love you,” he replied. You tugged on the IV tube again as you squirmed and unconsciously flexed your arm. “And because I saw your friends get picked up by their boyfriends in their cars. I saw those boyfriends bring them massive bouquets of roses. I saw all the grand fucking gestures that I could never do for you, because I didn’t have enough—I wasn’t—it was mortifying. I thought that you deserved the world, and all I could give you was… some fucking wildflowers before our dates.”

The corners of your lips twitched as you tried to speak, “it’s—I loved your wildflowers, though. And I never cared about anything else.”

“I know,” he said. “But I did.”

You looked down at the white duvet. “You and your gestures.”

Jungkook hummed, but did not add anything else. He was thinking—and regretting his silences. You were thinking, too—and wondering if this was the only time he allowed you to assume that his friends were at fault when they weren’t.

The room around you stilled, adapting to the atmosphere of the conversation. Even your drip quieted.

But then someone knocked on the door of the hotel room, and you and Jungkook almost lit up with relief.

“It’s us!” Luna’s voice called out just as Jungkook stood up to check who it was.

Your friends had returned with paper boxes of Thai food—enough to feed at least five people, from what you could see from your bed—and waved at you from the doorway.

A conversation followed—one that you couldn’t quite hear, except for irrelevant snippets, such as “are you sure?” and “well, okay”—and then Jungkook stepped away from the door, allowing the two girls to address you.

“Apparently, we’ll be heading back to the bus for a quick nap,” Luna said. Jungkook gave her a disapproving look that she promptly ignored. “Is that okay with you? Jungkook will stay.”

Your reflexive response was, of course, to try to dismiss their responsibility. “He doesn’t—neither of you have to stay—”

“Someone is staying,” Jungkook stated, his voice strict, final. “And I would like to be the one to do that.”

You weren’t protesting against him specifically, but as you prepared to reply, you realised it might seem that way. Your hesitant silence was a chance for Jungkook to nod at the two girls again. They nodded back, but then glanced back at you.

“Our phones are on,” Maggie said, lifting her device up for you to see. “So, you can still call or text us at any point, and we’ll rush over here right away.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows. “That certainly does not make it sound like I’m about to torture her.”

You bit back a smile on your bed while Luna said simply, “just a precaution.”

“I get it,” he said. “And I’ll personally call you if I say or do anything that’s over the line.”

Neither Luna, nor Maggie had a response to that, and you looked up to meet three pairs of expectant eyes.

“I—it’s okay,” you said to the girls. “You—yes, get some rest. We’ll be fine here. Thank you.”

“Okay. We’ll be back!” Luna promised, shooting a warning look at Jungkook, while Maggie waved her phone and called out at you, “text us!”

You wanted to give them a small wave, but the thick duvet and the persistent catheter digging into your arm made it difficult to pull your hands out, so all you managed to do was just shuffle around under the covers and nod at them.

The girls left the take-out boxes inside, waved at you again, and walked away.

Jungkook closed the door and slowly returned to his seat, his shoulders hunched, hands in his pockets, and steps unsteady. He looked lost and frightened.

He didn’t want you to misunderstand his intentions. He didn’t want to stay here just to have you to himself, to apologise and to beg for your forgiveness. He wanted to stay because he couldn’t breathe when he didn’t know if you were okay.

As his hesitation hung in the air, memories of your previous hospital stay returned to you again, and you closed your eyes to shake them off.

“You should eat something,” you said.

Jungkook refused.

“When was the last time you ate anything?” you prodded.

Again, he mumbled and hummed under his breath, evading the question and sitting very still—as if he was expecting something. As if something was coming.

And you realised that something was coming. But you had to speak to bring that something here.

“So, then—w-was there anything else?” you finally asked.

Jungkook knew you were referring to the moment he’d just revealed, this deliberate misunderstanding. It was all he could think about. This was the something.

“There was,” he said with a sigh. “But I don’t—”

“Tell me about it.”

He had a lump in his throat that he couldn’t swallow—but not due to his lack of trying—and he suddenly felt like he was standing in front of a jury of his peers.

He didn’t want you to keep thinking that he hadn’t made an effort for you when he had, only it never turned out well. But he was also nervous about you learning how hard—and how impossibly much—he tried. He thought it would only highlight his shortcomings—and there were many of them.

He’d convinced himself that if you didn’t know about them, then he wasn’t letting you down. It was challenging to break out of this conviction now.

“Well—t-that Valentine’s Day,” he stammered. “Our second one—do you remember?”

You remembered right away. Despite your distaste for the commercialisation of the holiday, it still stung that Jungkook had avoided you the whole day. And for several days after that, too—although you’d assumed that to be deliberate. He’d missed Valentine’s Day and didn’t want to see you out of guilt.

“Sure,” you said.

“Well, that wasn’t Sid’s fault, either,” he said. “I know you thought we went on a drinking binge that weekend because Sid happened to conveniently go off the grid right at that time. He had a habit of—”

“But you weren’t with him?” you interjected, impatient.

“No. He was—it was nearly a Weekend at Bernie’s situation. There was some event happening at Jude’s summer house that weekend,” Jungkook said, and you tried to control yourself before you made mocking comments about the idea that people had enough money to own seasonal houses. “And Jude got so high that Sid and some of Jude’s cousins had to pretend he was just not feeling his best whenever his parents asked about him. They mimicked his voice through the door and everything.”

“So, where were you then?”

“I was—well, I—I spent that whole day—ah, no,” he stopped abruptly and brought his palms over his face, lacing his fingers over his mouth as he changed his mind. He couldn’t do this. It was awful. He was such a mess. “You know what? Maybe it’s better if you keep thinking I was at that summer house with them.”

“No,” you opposed in frustration, lunging forward to sit up. You did not listen to him drone on about Sid and Jude just to have him change his mind. “Now you have to tell me.”

Jungkook raised his head when you moved—his concern for you overwhelmed his chagrin.

“Okay, okay, don’t—lie down,” he asked, gesturing at the pillow.

You complied to get him to keep going. He took a breath.

“Just so you know,” he cautioned, “this might finally ruin my bad boy reputation.”

“You never had one.”

He clicked his tongue against his lower teeth. “Okay, ouch.”

You grinned. “Tell me. What really happened?”

He hesitated for another second, bouncing his knee up and down, up and down, and then stilling completely.

“Well, for one thing,” he began finally, “I was going to make dinner. That didn’t go well, because the communal kitchens were—well, you know. But that’s fine, I didn’t worry too much because there’s always take-out.”

You nodded. The communal kitchens in both of your dormitories were typically crowded with people or they smelled so terrible from a failed cooking experiment that it was simply wiser not to set foot in there.

“There was a great pizza place literally two blocks from your dorm,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, exactly.” He nodded in agreement. “But, um, we’d already gone out for a fancy dinner on Valentine’s Day the year before, so I wanted this year to be more… special. I don’t know. Or different, at least. So, I thought I’d cook and make you a slideshow. And—okay, you’ll have to stop smiling if you want me to continue.”

You hadn’t realised you were smiling. You pursed your lips and pulled them to each side to compose yourself.

“Sorry,” you said. “Continue.”

“Right,” he said. “So I made a PowerPoint. Added all of our pictures that I could find in my camera roll, wrote some funny captions. There were going to be at least 200 slides, I’m pretty sure you would have fallen asleep in the middle. I even recorded an acoustic Sleep Token cover to use as background music.”

You told yourself you’d stay quiet, but your disbelief was uncontrollable. “You didn’t!”

“I did,” he said, smiling, but trying not to, for the sake of the story. “It’s gone, though. I erased all traces of that night.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Well, I, uh—I didn’t want just to play you the slides on my laptop,” he said, scratching nervously at his chest over his dark grey hoodie. “I wanted something more.”

You nodded. “Of course.”

He looked away instead of acknowledging your comment.

“Then I remembered something I saw on Instagram that could have been cool. It was one of those aesthetic accounts. They had a picture of this dark, cosy room with a projector screening a film right on this white wall,” he said. “So, I thought, well, shit! I have a white wall behind my wardrobe. And the science lab downstairs has a projector.”

You didn’t like this as you stiffened on the bed, mumbling a dreading, “dear God.”

“Yeah.” He paused to lick his lips. “But it’s probably not what you think. I got the fucking projector.”

He said that with so much grandeur that you couldn’t help but raise your eyebrows—questioning if this was really something to be proud of.

He recapped the story anyway, “I took my roommate’s wrench, and it really didn’t take more than fifteen minutes to open the lab door, unscrew the projector, and bring it back up to my room.”

You shut your eyes and scrunched your nose at the step-by-step description. You wondered if there was a statute of limitations here, and if you would have been considered an accomplice now that you knew about this.

“They have security cameras, though,” you said, glancing at him again. “Don’t they?”

“They do,” Jungkook confirmed. He had a sardonic smile on his face. “Why do you think I was suspended for a month after Valentine’s Day?”

You lost him there. “Wait—they knew you stole the projector?”

“Borrowed,” he corrected. “I returned it two days later. But, yeah, uh—Minjun actually pulled some strings here. His dad went to university with the dean, so he vouched for me. Told him it was all a misunderstanding, and that it would never happen again.”

You looked away, frantically sifting through memories of the month after that particular Valentine’s Day. You remembered not seeing Jungkook for a few days after it, but you saw him fairly regularly later on. He would hang out in your dorm while you had classes, claiming not to have anything better to do.

It took you a full minute to properly recall the explanation he’d given about his suspension.

“Oh,” you said. “Minjun told me that you got suspended because you were caught completely wasted, spray-painting one of the campus buildings.”

Jungkook nodded, his eyes cast low.

“To be fair, I did spray-paint that one,” he admitted. “And I was probably wasted when I did it. But I wasn’t caught.”

You weren’t sure if “spray-painting” was a lesser offence than “stealing a projector from a laboratory” in your eyes, but you didn’t want to question Minjun’s decision now.

“Okay,” you said. “So what happened after you stole the projector?”

“Well, I took the borrowed projector up to my room and set it up,” he replied. “Everything looked great. I was going to give you the best Valentine’s Day dinner this world has ever fucking seen.”

He smacked his palms against his thighs as he spoke, showing off his determination, and you found yourself resisting a smile again. Jungkook had a certain way of telling stories—his changing smiles and small chuckles, his hand gestures and even his tone of voice always made it feel more vivid.

“But, um, I had to move the wardrobe to get a bare wall,” he continued. “And, uh, what I did not foresee was that, earlier that very same day, my roommate’s electric kettle had broken. He went out, purchased a new one. And he put the old one on top of the wardrobe to save space.” Jungkook gave you a moment to think back on this roommate. “You remember the guy, he hoarded everything, all kinds of fucking cables and wires, and—anyway. So, I started to push the wardrobe, and the fucking kettle—it fell and hit me right on the top of my head.”

A surprised gasp left your lips—a stark contrast to the easy, laid-back way he had just spoken.

Jungkook nodded in response to your reaction. “Yeah. My vision sort of darkened and I thought I heard something crack—I, uh, I did think it was my skull, not going to lie.”

He chuckled again—to minimise the impact of his words once more—but you sat up despite his inevitable protests.

“Jungkook!” you scolded. “And you didn’t tell me?!”

“Well, my skull obviously didn’t really crack.”

“I’m not so sure that it didn’t.”

“Anyway,” he stressed. “There wasn’t any blood or anything, so after a few minutes of sitting on the floor, I figured I was good to go. Then I stood up, and, uh—I don’t think you need a visual of what happened then.”

You closed your eyes.

Really, no. You did not need a visual.

About a year ago, at one of the smaller Rated Riot concerts—at a club that seemed harmless at first glance—Jungkook had climbed over to a wooden ceiling beam and swung his arms over it to brachiate across the narrow joist. The beam turned out to be heavily lacquered, and his sweaty palms slid right off, forcing him to crash onto the table below.

He gave himself a concussion, dislocated his shoulder, broke $200 worth of bottles and glasses, and frightened the living hell out of the middle-aged couple who were sitting at the table that he’d landed on.

“Yeah,” you said in your quiet hotel room. “I can imagine.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook breathed out. He recalled this exact same moment—and he knew that, once again, the cause of his injury was his own overexertion. “So, I spent the whole night in my dorm room, on the floor—because I couldn’t crawl to my bed—hoping that I wouldn’t die.”

“And it didn’t occur to you to call me?” you asked—not gently. “Or the fucking ambulance, actually?”

“No,” he replied, unfazed by your disapproving tone. “Not if it meant having to explain what I was doing before all of that happened.”

“You’re crazy,” you said, shaking your head. “You clearly got a concussion, and you didn’t do anything about it.”

“To be fair,” he said, “it’s not that I was embarrassed about it or anything. I was just—horrified that I’d let you down. It was Valentine’s Day. I wanted to give you a slideshow and a romantic fucking dinner. Not—not lie on the floor of my room, half passed out.”

You fought against a pensive sadness. It seemed unfair that this night had not gone the way he’d planned.

“W-well, what did your roommate say when he returned?” you asked instead.

Jungkook poked his cheek with his tongue. “He wasn’t very happy that I broke his old kettle.”

“You broke his—Jesus Christ.” Your hands were on your face as you fell back and buried your head into the pillows. “So, he just left you there on the floor?”

“I assume he thought I was drunk.”

“Fucking—what a—and he was valedictorian, wasn’t he? What a fucking moron,” you groaned. “I knew I should have kicked his ass while I had the chance. I never liked him.”

Jungkook felt a warm rush of comfort to hear how agitated you were getting on his behalf.

“Yeah, he didn’t like me very much, either,” he said. “But that’s um—that’s the story. I missed Valentine’s Day, almost died, and got suspended. I couldn’t possibly tell you what happened.”

“No, how could you?” you deadpanned. “Your reputation was at stake.”

He smiled. “Precisely.”

Even though you joked about this, and he was grateful that you did, both of you knew that this was not entirely about upholding some specific “bad boy” image.

You’d already witnessed this side of him – the side that felt anxious and dreaded the thought of not being good enough. Of not meeting expectations. Of letting others down.

In fact, now that you thought about it, your first proper conversation during this tour had been about this very issue.

“The time I was arrested,” Jungkook said, his shaky voice interrupting your thoughts, “that was—it might have been another one of those times.”

“What?” you asked, perplexed again. “How—I was at the police station with you—the officers—”

“I don’t remember a lot of details,” he interrupted. “So, I’m—I’m not really sure. But, uh, apparently, that night we didn’t just spray-paint a building. Or spit at the officers, allegedly, while we ran from them. The police assumed Minjun and I were the “drunk and disorderly” call that they received an hour before they found us.”

Your memories of that night were hazy, too—mostly because you refused to go over the details in your mind. All you could remember was Jungkook calling you from the precinct and asking—in the most resigned voice you’ve ever heard—if you could come pick him up. The story that you were given when you arrived at the police station only came back to your memory in fragments: property damage. Assault of police officers. Resisting arrest.

“You weren’t?” you asked.

“No,” Jungkook said. “We had some drinks at a bar outside of town, and Sid started harassing some bikers across the street. Someone called the police. Jude said he even punched someone there, I don’t know. Minjun and I were already back in the city at that time. I asked him to come with me to keep watch. I wanted to spray-paint these song lyrics for you—”

Your head jerked as your surprise prevented you from shaking it properly. “Wait—you—what? What lyrics?”

“It’s—well, you know what lyrics,” he replied, timid suddenly. “There was only one song we listened to all the time.”

You remembered.

It’s you and me ‘til the end of time.

You swallowed, breathless, and almost completely weightless as you clutched the duvet tighter in an attempt to ground yourself.

“The building I chose was downtown,” Jungkook continued. “Right across the street from the park where we had our first—well, our first date. I wanted that place to have something—something that we both loved. To commemorate all that we had, I don’t know. I haven’t been a very good boyfriend to you at the time, and I wanted to redeem that.”

The unexpected tightness in your stomach worried you for a second, but the sedative must not have fully worn off yet, because you took a deep breath and felt your body wind down a little. The room continued to blur behind Jungkook, but you suspected that your condition or medication had little to do with that.

“And, uh,” you tried to ask, “the police found you there?”

Jungkook nodded.

“I think Sid guided them to us,” he said. “It never made sense to me why the police would even go there. No one patrolled those streets, what was the point? Not to mention, it was dark, we were dressed in black, and—honestly, it wasn’t our first time with graffiti. But what happened was, I got a text from Sid, saying that someone at the bar had called the cops on him. And not five minutes later, he and Jude both showed up downtown, and we heard sirens.”

“So, what did you do?” you asked—uncertain, suddenly, if you’d actually asked him this before. You had talked to one police officer that night and had accepted everything he told you as the truth.

“Well, Minjun and I ran, of course,” Jungkook said.

“And the other two?”

“I can’t remember the exact sequence of—I was—I was drunk,” he said, giving you an apologetic look. He wanted to share the whole story with you, but he wasn’t sure if he knew it himself. “I remember Sid and Jude shouting at us that they would hold the cops back while we ran—and I didn’t even—we didn’t even think that there was anything weird about that. Minjun and I just ran.”

You felt your memories frantically rearrange themselves after every word that he said. Your head had turned into a disorderly, confused mess.

“The, um—the spitting, then?” you asked.

“That had to be Sid and Jude,” Jungkook speculated. “But I guess I might have done that, too. I, uh—I want you to have the full story, so I won’t deny things that I can’t even remember. I’m thinking about it now, and I don’t know which moments were really Minjun and me, and which were actually Sid and Jude. We were all very drunk, and nobody at the police station believed a word we were saying anyway.”

You nodded, urging him to continue, and he did—grateful and a little scared that you were listening to him so intently.

“Minjun and I got a good head start,” he spoke. “I don’t know what Sid and Jude meant by saying they’d hold the police back, because three officers still chased after us. But they were always at least five metres behind—I could tell from the distant sound of their shoes. I remember feeling so disconnected from my feet as I ran, I could sense I was going to trip. I don’t—honestly, I’m not saying this to defend myself—but I don’t know how I would have managed to look at the cops over my shoulder, spit at them from five metres away, and keep running without breaking my neck or falling over.”

“Hmm—yeah. I don’t know, either,” you said, turning away from him. You understood that it was important for him to clear his conscience, especially if he had been held accountable for something he didn’t even do, but you had other questions. “I’m confused about something else, though. If you and Minjun were being chased while Sid and Jude stayed back, why weren’t they brought into the station?”

All Jungkook did was raise his head and give you a look.

“Right,” you realised. “Of course. Money.”

He looked back down and nodded.

Exhaling, you studied the ceiling tiles for a few seconds before admitting, “I’ve always had a feeling that Sid had set you up.”

“Yeah,” he replied with surprising calmness. “I think so, too.”

You ran your fingers over your hair and pulled a strand from the back of your head to toy with it as you tried to think.

In every conversation that you’ve had about Sid using Jungkook as a scapegoat, Jungkook had either insisted that you were misunderstanding, or he simply fell silent (to avoid arguments, you assumed, and not necessarily to indicate his agreement with you).

This felt very new and particularly unusual. He wasn’t feeding into your dislike for his friends. He was doing something else now, but you were hesitant to draw conclusions about what it might be.

He had claimed he was done with Sid right after their fight, but after enduring his insufferable friends for years, you weren’t ready to believe that you wouldn’t have to see Sid’s nauseating mug again.

“But, anyway,” Jungkook said after a quiet minute. “Minjun and I apologised. Minjun paid bail. We signed something—I don’t even know what that was. And I went home with you. That’s the, um—the whole story as I remember it.”

You simmered in your cluttered mind for a moment longer, attempting to form a thought that you could voice. But all you could manage was a question. “Why didn’t you talk to me?”

“Would it have made a difference?” he asked. “I was still caught. You had to come and pick me up.”

“At least I—it would have—okay. I don’t know,” you finished lamely. This was a ‘what if’ that you didn’t have the strength to consider.

He hadn’t lied to you, though, you realised—and you weren’t sure how that made you feel. He allowed you to make assumptions that his friends were to blame, and he went along with it. That wasn’t worse than outright lying to you, but it wasn’t much better, either—it still put an unnecessary strain on your relationship.

Logically then, knowing the whole truth about what was happening with him might have made a significant difference. He had good intentions—yet he did not use them to defend himself.

You felt a little sorry that he only told you now, when you couldn’t go back and see what would have happened if you’d known about this all along.

But you realised you did not feel angry. You couldn’t find a specific point in his revelations that you could point at and say, “this is the one. This will be the reason why I can’t stand to look at you anymore.”

You couldn’t say that his choice to be silent made sense, but you knew him. And you understood why he made that choice. The way you saw it, this was partially his friends’ fault anyway.

All on his own, Jungkook wouldn’t have felt this uncertain, this insecure to admit to you that he loved you and that he wanted to show that to you in unorthodox ways—a lot of which didn’t work out.

“So, you just…” you spoke up again. “You were okay with me assuming that you were out with friends every night? That you chose them over us repeatedly?”

Jungkook sighed. If there was anything he’d learned over the past few days, it was that communication was not his strong suit. But now he’d reached a point of no return. He had to talk.

“Honestly, I thought it was a better alternative,” he said. “I thought I was a miserable try-hard. And I realised after our conversation in Amsterdam that, well... this is part of the reason why I didn't—why I assumed that you broke up with me because you didn’t love me anymore. And not because I kept fucking up.”

Your breaths were shallow as you listened to him.

“I think that it turned against me, this unnecessary secrecy,” Jungkook continued. “I wanted to be the best for you, and when I couldn’t be, Sid became a great excuse. But in my head—for me, he didn’t seem to have that big of a presence in our relationship. But of course, after I blamed my own mistakes on Sid, too, they built up. And, in the end, I think what happened was that…”

He faltered and you finished his sentence for him, “I started to see that all the reasons why something went wrong in our relationship were Sid. Sid. Sid. Sid.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I made you think that if I was given a choice, I’d choose my friends over you. Which I wouldn’t! But, um—I had a very poor way of showing that. Have, actually. Still do. I’m sorry.”

“Hmm.” You turned away. “Do you—you know what else I think this is?”

He looked at you. “What?”

“Sid’s influence,” you said. “You were so scared that he would think you’re hopeless or pathetic that you couldn’t even talk about the things that you did—the things that you wanted to do for me. You thought you were a ‘try-hard’ because your friends convinced you that you were.”

Jungkook felt stunned and a little nauseous.

He didn’t know if this was something he’d implied in his endless attempts to apologise for the bet, but you articulated everything he had struggled to convey.

He was trying to prove to Sid that he wasn’t pathetic—and he was doing it long before Sid suggested the bet. He was doing it every time he went out with his friends. He was doing it every time he allowed you to blame these friends after he missed your dates—just so he wouldn’t have to admit how much he tried to make these dates special, and how miserably he’d failed at that.

Eventually, he began to accept that he was truly pitiful for being so stubbornly in love with you. He hated their pity. He wanted to change it. Make it not so.

But the aftermath of the bet made him realise that all he really did, was prove that he was pathetic—he wanted to get you back in any desperate way possible.

He was okay with that now.

He was okay with being so in love with you that he couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t focus on anything else. Couldn’t stay where he was, repeating the same mistakes, going round and round, because he needed to grow. Needed to become someone who deserved you.

He was okay with it because being pitiful meant being in love with you, and he would never try to fight against that.

And you knew all these things about him. You knew everything.

He didn’t really understand how the world worked and he didn’t know if destiny played favourites. But he remembered writing a line in one of Rated Riot’s earlier songs—you weren't made for me, that much is true / but I was made for you—and he was once again confronted with the weight of this realisation.

He loved you. He’s always been yours so completely and wholeheartedly that you read him without looking at him.

He liked to think he knew you well—but that was extremely presumptuous of him. You were a universe within a universe. Really, it was you who knew him in ways he didn’t know himself.

“I—you’re right,” he said, running his tongue over his chapped lips. “I shouldn’t have given a fuck about what they thought, but I did. And I don’t—I, um—I don’t want this to seem like I am an angel for telling you about all that. No, I fucked up. Many times. We went binge-drinking, drag-racing, we skipped classes, failed tests, spray-painted buildings—”

“Stole projectors,” you interjected.

“—stole projectors,” he repeated reluctantly. “It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, while I only pretended to fuck up. No. I took you for granted many times, I know I did. And I’m—I’ll always be sorry about that. But I’m—I’ve kicked him out. Sid. I’m done. Truly done this time. And I don’t even care if Jude stays.”

The way his voice broke off at the last sentence sounded like he cared a little, but you recognised the determination in his eyes when you looked at him. He’d made a decision.

“And Minjun?” you asked.

Jungkook inhaled. “Minjun… said he’d stay.”

“Good,” you said.

“Good—yeah?” he asked, evidently surprised. “You think so?”

Minjun had constantly looked like a kicked puppy when you were in the room. Now that you understood why, you thought you liked him a little more for it.

“Yeah,” you said. “I think he’s the only one of your friends worth keeping.”

“I’m starting to see that, too,” he admitted. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

You looked down. With half of the vitamin drip gone now, you felt your body start to return to you—and, automatically, the surreal haze inside this hotel room began to clear. You were no longer floating somewhere on the ceiling and only pretending that you were perfectly fine.

You were coming back to yourself. And the return was rugged and painful.

 “You, um—you keep apologising to me like—like you’re obligated to respond to me,” you said. Jungkook didn’t know if you realised it, but your voice changed when you spoke to him as his manager and not as someone he’d known and loved for over seven years. “I’m your manager, but these things—you can—I shouldn’t tell you how to live your life. That’s not my—”

“I want it to be, though,” he cut you off with a sudden boldness that he hadn’t realised he still had in him. “I-I mean, I don’t want you to worry about me like that ever again, but I—I want you to think about me. Sometimes, you’re the only person who truly does.”

You shook your head—not to rid yourself of the responsibility, but to remind him, yet again, that he had people who wanted what was best for him.

And, honestly, he knew he did. He just wanted you.

“You have your grandma,” you said.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, nodding distractedly. “But, um, you know.”

“And you’re loved by thousands,” you continued. “They all want you to stay safe.”

He smiled—appreciative but oddly apologetic.

“I’m grateful for that,” he said. “It’s just that—I want you to be the one who wants that for me. I’ve only ever loved you, I’ve never—never been in a relationship with anyone who wasn’t you. And I don’t want to be, so the next thing that you say better not be about me finding someone else, because—”

“You have been in other relationships, though,” you said despite his warning. You didn't know if this was really true, but you ploughed ahead anyway—just to say something. “I don’t know how long or short, but Sid always bragged about your double dates whenever he called me to pick you up, so—”

“The double dates,” Jungkook said, “meant that Sid was on a date with two girls at the same time. And I was there for decoration.”

You scoffed. “I hardly imagine that to be possible, considering Sid looks like a sewer rat on a good day.”

Jungkook wanted to argue, but he was too amused by this image.

“And, um—what do I look like?” he asked.

You blinked, taken aback by the question, then quickly turned away to gaze out the window instead. “You look… you know what you look like.”

“No,” he said, fully grinning now. “Now that you mention it, I realise I actually have no idea what I look like.”

“There’s a mirror on the wall right behind you.”

“It’s like I’m blind, I don’t know what’s—”

“You’re ridiculous,” you groaned, your face warm. “You look nice. Move on.”

“Oh! That’s high praise coming from you.” He made an effort to bow. “Thank you.”

“Fuck off,” you retorted because you couldn’t smack him on the shoulder. Instead, you motioned with your hand, urging him to keep going. “Sid couldn’t get a date with a personality worse than his looks. Not if you were there.”

“I’m sure the expensive restaurant worked in his favour,” Jungkook remarked.

You threw your head back, realising the significance of money yet again. “Ah.”

“In any case, I don’t care,” he said. He cleared his throat and leaned back in his seat. “I never wanted to be with anyone who wasn’t you anyway. Which—as you’ll be happy to point out—sounds silly because when Sid was in a good mood, he was very dedicated to making sure neither of us left the club alone.”

You shrugged one of your shoulders, trying to come off as casual. “Well, since you brought it up.”

“Yeah, well.” He sighed, not running away from this, because, frankly, there was nowhere to run. “And you’re, uh—you’re my manager. You know what I’ve been doing after hours anyway.”

“Hmm.”

You didn’t have a better response, because there was something that Luna had said to you the other day that would not leave your mind alone.

He had the option to keep the bet a secret from you.

This evening had been filled with these options.

It would have been easy not to mention his miserable attempts at grand gestures or the people who were there after you. But he was bringing up everything—every little detail from your relationship and after it—and you sat expressionless on the bed, not knowing what to make of any of it.

“I meant what I said, though,” Jungkook said, leaning forward again. He felt restless; as if he could jump out of his skin if he tried hard enough. “You’re the only meaningful relationship I’ve had. It wasn’t fair for me to pretend to be interested in a second date with someone else, when I constantly caught myself thinking about if I’d ever see you again. Or when I’d see you again, after we started to work together.”

Your eyes were focused on the sheets of the bed, but he still didn’t dare to look at you.

“I didn’t want to believe that I could still be in love with you after all this time,” he said. “But—well, the evidence is against me.”

“W-why’d you go with Sid then?” you asked—quickly. Before he said something else that you didn’t know how to respond to. “Clubbing and on these dates?”

He clenched his jaw. “Well, you said it. I was trying to prove to him that I wasn’t pathetic. That I wasn’t in love with you anymore.”

“But why did you care so much about what he thought?” you pushed, and there was a hint of hurt in your voice. Jungkook felt his heart leap over several beats as it pounded against his ribs. “Why did his opinion matter to you more than mine?”

He exhaled so deeply that it was almost a miracle his lungs hadn’t collapsed. His insides were burning with regret. With an urge to turn back time. An urge to make things right.

“Because I was—I was a fucking idiot. For years before I met you, I thought Sid had everything I wanted,” he said—which was equally as simple as it was unfair, and, in retrospect, stupid. “The freedom, the audacity to do whatever the fuck he pleased. No consequences, ever.”

You remembered him saying the same thing to you on the bridge in Stockholm and felt yourself shiver as though the wind from that night had followed you all the way here.

“And the way he treated me when I was single was different, too,” Jungkook continued. “I was single, I was in a band, and it finally felt like he approved of me, like we were actually friends. Like we were equals. And I cared about that so fucking much. It felt like I finally had everything that he had, and I was just—blind.”

“But you didn’t,” you said. “You didn’t have what he has. I don’t think you ever will.”

Jungkook was surprised to realise that hearing this did not sting.

He agreed.

“Yeah,” he said. “I actually—I had so much more than Sid would ever have, because I had you. And that’s—that’s probably why he dragged me around with him. He was determined to make me truly lose you like he always made me lose everything. And I let him—I helped him make that come true. I can’t—I’m not much better than him. I want to believe I am, but I’m—I made the bet.”

You remembered thinking that Jungkook and Sid could never be equals, because Sid always needed Jungkook to have less. And now that you heard Jungkook come to a similar conclusion on his own, you thought you felt the room shift a little.

“Yeah,” you said, distracted. “T-that—the bet was fucked up.”

“I know. I’m—I’m sorry,” he said. “I just—I want you to know that I meant everything I had said. All of it. And I understand why you don’t want to believe me. I, uh—I know your family history. But I’ve got mine, too. My grandpa is almost eighty. He’s only ever loved one person his whole life. So did my dad. So will I. It’s just—regardless of what’s going to happen, you’re—I’ll always love you.”

You cleared your throat once, then once more—louder.

Jungkook was about ready to get up, alarmed suddenly, but you quieted and looked around. He caught a glimpse of your eyes as you scanned the room and he realised—in a paradoxical sense of relief—that you were frightened.

Not angry. Not refusing to believe him. Not disappointed or frustrated.

Just scared.

“It’s uh—it’s really late,” you said, looking back at the window. “Isn’t it? The sky’s completely dark.”

He swallowed. You didn’t want to talk about this. And you shouldn’t. You needed rest.

“Yeah, uh… do you want me to close the curtains?” he asked, swallowing all that was still left unsaid.

It was impossible anyway, he supposed, to pour seven years of misguided decisions into one conversation. He was just relieved you hadn’t asked him to leave.

“No,” you said. “Keep them open. I want to see the sky.”

He’d hoped you would say that, and he felt an almost forgotten lightness in his chest when you did. Lots of things had changed over the past few days, but a lot of things hadn’t—including your love for the night.

“A lot of stars tonight,” he said meaningfully. He was glad he had accidentally picked a hotel room with a view of boring back alleys: there were no lights to cover up the stars now.

“Yeah,” you agreed, much calmer. “They’re beautiful.”

There was a quote in a book his grandmother had once read to him: “are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we are human?”

He remembered feeling oddly wistful when he heard it. He imagined the night sky behind his closed eyes and he felt as though he was lacking something crucial—something that would come, but not yet.

He remembered watching the way you watched the stars back in Tilburg—hours before it all fell apart.

The night sky had always reminded him of you—really, even before he met you.

“I could open the window wider,” he suggested.

You closed your eyes.

“Could you?” you asked quietly.

“Yeah.” He stood up and approached the window, pulling the frame until he saw the ends of the curtains lift off the floor. “A distinct smell, isn’t it? The night.”

“It is,” you agreed.

It probably shouldn’t have been possible at this point, but as he turned around and traced your features with his gaze, he thought he fell in love with you a little more at this moment.

“We, um, we have this song,” he found himself saying as he returned to the armchair next to your bed. This song had been buzzing in his head nearly the whole night tonight. You could feel his nervousness as he mumbled, “ah, you probably know it already, it’s so obvious. And I told you in Oslo—okay, anyway. We have this song. It’s a B-side on our second single.”

“Cursed,” you said, recalling the title easily enough because this was your mum’s favourite song.

You always thought that the single—“Haunting,” which was their second title track and the very first Rated Riot song that you’d heard—overshadowed “Cursed.” Perhaps unfairly.

“Yeah.” Jungkook nodded. “Who, um—who do you think inspired it?”

Swallowing, you willed your thoughts to clear, so you wouldn’t have to think about the lyrics, but could not do it.

You remembered the entire chorus with perfect clarity, as though you were listening to Rated Riot perform the song in concert right now—Taehyung heavy on the bass and Jungkook yelling out the lyrics with his whole body leaning over the edge of the stage towards the audience.

You’re for the stars and for the moon to see /

You weren’t made for me /

You’re for the night and for the day to breathe /

You’re everything they want to be /

You're the enchantment that makes planets turn /

You’re more than the entire world /

You weren’t made for me, that much is true /

But I was made for you.

“I have no idea,” you said finally. You hoped, against all odds, this was a song that Yoongi wrote when he was drunk—those tended to be very emotional. “Was this the, um, absinthe one?”

Jungkook snickered humourlessly and shook his head.

“Don’t do this to me,” he asked, looking down for a moment—just until he could count the four loose threads in the carpet. Then he returned his gaze to you.

“It was you,” he said. “Your love for the night sky. I know it’s your favourite thing in the world.”

He said that and suddenly your chest was filled with them—with these stars that you loved to watch and he loved to sing about.

“W-well, that’s—you’re, um,” you struggled, “you’re not wrong about that, I guess.”

“It’s a song about my favourite thing in the world, too,” he added.

“W-what’s that?”

He had a sad smile on his face. “You.”

Your stomach tightened again and you squeezed your eyes shut—a feeble attempt to get away from this situation and from all the thoughts that your head could no longer contain.

“Not tonight,” you whispered. “I can’t—I don’t want to talk about us or about—about anything else tonight.”

“Okay,” he agreed immediately. “We won’t talk about it.”

“Okay,” you echoed, even though his laid-back response did not relax you.

You sensed longing in his words, and anguish. He would have done anything you asked him to—and this power scared you. You didn’t want it. You just wanted—

Exhaling loudly to drown out your thoughts, you turned to a side and glanced at the bandages on his face.

“Tomorrow, we will have to—we’ll have to figure out what to do with your eye,” you said.

Jungkook had not fully returned to this planet yet. “My eye?”

“Yes,” you said, giving him a longer look—as if to check if you hadn’t dreamt him—and then closing your eyes again. “Your black eye.”

He reached up to touch the bandages, perpetually confused about his injuries. “Oh—what do you mean, what to do with it?”

“Well, it’d probably be weird to cut it out, so we’ll have to cover it up.”

“Hmm.” He smiled at the ease in your voice. If everything else was lost, he hoped that he would at least get to keep your banter. “Okay.”

“I’ll think of something,” you promised as the gentle night wind brushed a strand of hair away from your face and fluttered your tired eyelashes.

“Thank you,” Jungkook said in a hush—his courage had finally abandoned him. “I’m sorry that this is another thing that you have to—”

“No,” you cut him off. “It’s not that bad.”

You tried to turn your head towards him, but lying here with your eyes closed felt very pleasant. You thought you’d felt revitalised before, you thought your body had started to feel more like it belonged to you again, but that had been momentary. You couldn’t keep your eyes open long enough to properly look at him.

“Do you mind if I… keep my eyes closed for a minute?” you asked.

“Do you mind if I stay here?” he responded.

“You—”

“Actually, I don’t care,” he decided. “I’m staying.”

You forced yourself to look at him. “You don’t have to do that. I’m fine.”

“You always say you’re fine,” he reminded you. “Look at where we are now.”

“It was a one-time thing. Look at this.” Lethargically, you raised your arm with the catheter. “I’m being pumped full of vitamins. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” he said. “I want to believe that. Really, I do, but you have to stop. You can’t keep going like this. I-I mean—”

You shook your head against the pillow. “Jungkook, this is really nothing.”

“I have a hard time believing that when you’re connected to a—”

“It’s—”

“Look, just—” he took a breath and extended his hands, “—p-please—please don’t let this happen again. Please look after yourself. I can’t lose you.”

He knew he might have to keep working with you without ever calling you his again. He’d have to learn how to deal with that.

But he could never deal with being here without you.

“Okay,” you said, your eyelids heavy. “Okay, I’ll be careful.”

“I’m going to need a promise here,” he said, reaching out his hand.

You chuckled weakly and extended your hand to gently graze his palm with the tips of your fingers. “I promise.”

He leaned in closer to fully grasp your hand in his, and saw the gentle—likely unconscious—smile on your lips as you squeezed his fingers. His chest filled with a warmth so big and powerful that, reasonably, there had to be no space left for his heart there anymore.

And yet something kept beating. He felt his own pulse reverberate against your fingers as he clutched your hand in his.

You’d be alright.

You hadn’t foreseen how calming the gentle dripping of the IV would be. You’d only meant to rest your eyes for a quick moment. You didn’t realise you had dozed off.

Only when your mind sobered up sometime in the early morning hours—you based the time solely on the colour of the sky outside—did you force your eyes open and concluded, with a painful jolt of your exhausted muscles, that you’d fallen asleep.

You looked around and for a moment, the dark, strange room filled your exhausted mind with terror. Then you noticed Jungkook sleeping in the chair next to you, and you felt yourself calm down.

Thank God he was here.

Blinking suddenly, you parted your lips as if preparing to argue with your own thoughts.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. He had a performance tomorrow. And a bandaged black eye that you still hadn’t figured out how to hide.

“I can tell you’re overthinking from all the way over here,” Jungkook said, his voice drowsy, eyes half-open. He must have heard the rustling of your covers and woken up. “Go to sleep.”

“What time is it?” you asked.

He was too tired to note the urgency in your voice as he mumbled, “sleeping time.”

“Jungkook, I’m serious,” you said. Finally, he caught your alarmed tone and his eyes shot open. “What time is it?”

He straightened in his seat and regarded you for a minute while he searched for his phone somewhere on the armchair. You didn’t appear to be in pain, but the emergency in your eyes threw him off.

“It’s three-twenty,” he said after a brief moment of blindness from the bright screen of his phone.

“Shit.” You looked around in the darkness, not sure when you had last seen your phone. You couldn’t remember Jungkook mentioning that he’d picked it up when he found you, and you hadn’t asked for it back. “I have to—”

“No,” he said, getting to his feet.

“No,” you argued back. “I need—”

He leaned over your bed and took hold of your hands right as you tried to throw off your duvet and sit up. You tried to evade him, but Jungkook proved he’d known you long enough to guess every move you were going to make—in complete darkness.

“No,” he said again, struggling with your relentless dedication to flail your limbs around until you stood up. “Lie down, please. I don’t know what you think you must do at three in the morning, but I promise you, it can wait. It’ll be done. I’ll do everything to make sure everything is okay.”

You stopped resisting his hold and allowed him to gently guide you back onto the mattress. He only let go of you when your head hit the pillows.

“You can’t be here. You need rest,” you insisted as he pulled the duvet over you, tucking it under your sides until you were firmly cocooned inside. You couldn’t tell if he did that for your comfort or to make sure you couldn’t escape this bed.

“So do you,” he countered.

“I'm fine—”

“No—for once, just... please stop saying that,” he asked, his eyes bright, but his voice completely spent. “You’re not fine. You’re getting a vitamin drip because you fainted. You need to sleep.”

You kept your eyes on his for another minute, trying to adjust to the thick darkness, so you could make out his silhouette as he towered over your bed. He was watching you and waiting.

“Okay,” you gave in. “I'll sleep.”

“I’ll be here,” he said, finally sitting back down.

You knew that wasn’t right. He needed to get proper rest. He shouldn’t have kept watch over you.

“Okay,” was all you said despite everything. “Thank you.”

He mumbled something unintelligible in response and you didn’t dare to ask him to repeat it. The room gave space to the night as your conversation wound down.

You could hear a faint screech of a lost bird outside the hotel window. Bugs were singing somewhere in the distance, too. And, as you drifted off, you thought you heard Jungkook whisper a weary “I love you.”

chapter title credits: bad omens, “the grey”

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[mins-fins]

ENDLESS, NAMELESS

❝ bright and clear, it's what i am, i have died.. ❞

in which. you always say that you don't write your songs about anybody, a statement you continue to repeat no matter how much people try to speculate about your dumb little song lyrics. it's a well know fan theory that the person you refer to in your songs is none other than your very own ex, the gorgeous lead guitarist of band aestas, mark lee, someone who you very much dislike talking about. are you over your ex? absolutely not, but you aren't going to tell anyone that. not your friends, not your fans, and definitely not the man himself.

𖥻 pairing guitarist!mark lee x drummer!male reader

𖥻 genre band au, social media au, fluff, angst, comedy, exes to not-so-friends to lovers, mutual pining, sort of slow burn, stubborn lovestruck fool x even more stubborn lovestruck fool

𖥻 warnings swearing, kys/kms jokes, explicit language, sexual jokes, an implication of sexual content, mentions of violence, smoking & alcohol consumption, stubborn bitches deny their feelings for about 20 chapters

𖥻 status complete!!

❝ silence, here i am, here i am, silent.. ❞

──── ⭒ PROFILES the divorcees 𖦹 a TOTALLY zen band 𖦹 hot girl summer

──── ⭒ TABLE OF CONTENTS !

i. twitter moots no longer 💔

ii. mark's pretty drummer ex

iii. FUCK MARK LEE (projecting)

iv. lying dead on the bathroom floor

v. the xiaoyn beef (or gay love story i guess)

vi. ITS ALL OVER 💔💔

vii. shakespeare but make it gay

viii. platonically sleeping together

ix. baby can we fix it?

x. is this a drug psa?

xi. idk who that is!!

xii. yn and mark, mark and yn

xiii. johnny suh is a real one 🙏

xiv. HE WANTS YOU!!

xv. froyo works every time

xvi. so ivy coded

xvii. 1000 song lyrics later

xviii. chat we lost

xix. cissy strut

xx. $50 in the bank account

xxi. cookies for the conscious

xxii. kiss my shades

xxiii. surprise surprise

xxiv. wedding invitations

[thebibliosphere]

Hi there, ive come from your post about ADHD and emotional disregulation, firstly thank you so much for putting it into words, its such a complicated part of how i deal with emotions and i havent ever been able to articulate how to why.

Secondly, in that post you mentioned how you've used stress as a motivator and how eventually your stress regualtion broke, i was wondering if you'd be willing to talk about that? (If not, its not a problem)

I feel like the same thing has happened to me but until i read your post i had no idea that something had... snapped? I suppose? I struggle with motivation all the time and in the past id have a week or a few days left and id be able to suddently push myself very hard to complete whatever it is before the deadline, just barely making it in most cases. However now it seems that i can't find that motivation anymore, deadlines come and pass and i can't being myself to work on anything, and i just end up spiralling into shame and guilt. That motivation was the only thing that I was able to rely on sometimes for things like uni, and i conviced myself that it was just me growing lazy or trying to get out of responsibility as to why the "last minute panic-mode" doesnt work anymore.

Again, if you don't wanna tackle this can of worms or if it's something youd rather not post online i totally get it, its no biggie! thanks so much for making the original post as well, it means a lot

Hello friend, thanks for the message. I'm sorry you're also dealing with this.

The good news here is that I've already talked about this using the rubber band analogy my therapist gave me. (Stress is like a Rubber Band)

If you don't have the mental bandwidth to read all of it now, the tl;dr is "stress is like a rubber band; it can stretch to hold numerous things in place when you need to, but if you do it too often or keep adding more and more strain under the band, the elastic eventually becomes brittle and snaps, taking your mental and sometimes physical health with it too."

I've been in intensive therapy for this for roughly three years now, and trying to piece my brain back together after my last bout of stress-induced productivity gave me a total mental breakdown.

It's... odd not being able to use stress and having to actively avoid it to avoid a relapse. But it is doable. Medication would help, but alas, I've got weird health issues and am unmedicated at the minute.

(And just in case that sparks anyone to go, "Oh, you do all this unmedicated! Wow, that's so inspiring!" as sometimes parents do to me on here as they then tell me they don't want to medicate their kids, I've unfortunately also written a post about what that kind of success looks like from an unmedicated perspective and the kind of suicidal ideation I deal with on the regular because I cannot take meds. It is not pleasant reading, but it is necessary for some folks, specifically anti-med, "if you just tried harder" people.)

A book you may find helpful is Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle, by Emily and Amelia Nagoski. It was very validating for me to read about other people going through the same things, and made me feel less of a "this is a personal failing on my part" and more of a "Oh okay yeah, no stress literally breaks people."

It helped soothe some of my own internalized "I just need to try harder" and helped cement me on the path I was already going down with my ADHD therapist toward changing how I view myself and how I manage my ADHD.

I hope that helps! If you've got more specific questions or I didn't touch on something in my old post, I can try to answer them :)

[seospicybin]

ON TOUR.

PART III: UNPLUGGED.

Hyunjin x reader x Felix. (s,f,a)

Chapters: I. SOUNDCHECK / II. OPENING ACT. / IV. HIDDEN TRACK.

Synopsis: Your best friend, Felix, is in a rock band and he takes you to join him on tour as the band’s photographer. On the road, you learn how to deal with his bandmate, Hyunjin, who’s not very welcoming of you. (14,6k words)

Author's note: It's getting warm y'all. I hope you're ready for get spicy :)

Click here for ON TOUR playlist.

It's no surprise that you'll take it the wrong way.

He was mad not because you accidentally unplugged his guitar but because of how reckless you were. Something way worse could have happened if he wasn't there to catch you, you could have hit your head or got electrocuted.

But of course, he shouldn't worry about you when Felix will always be there to comfort you.

Is it what made him mad? Truthfully, he has no idea but this gnawing feeling is becoming visceral. It's taking over him.

So when he knows you're hiding from him, he has to know why? What is it about you that always drives him mad?

"Why do you hate me so much?" You ask while he's still searching for the answer himself in your eyes.

"Tell me why? Because I don't get it. Why did I do to you that makes you hate me so much?"

You don't know. You're just as clueless as he is.

"I'm drunk, you see? You can tell me anything and that's okay, I won't remember it when I wake up in the morning."

But he needs to know one thing, one thing that he's been dreaming of day and night.

"Go ahead! Tell me! Promise I'd forget all about it tomorrow."

He needs to know now, so he does.

Hyunjin kisses you with a curious mind and an open heart, he lets a part of him pours into you hoping that you'll finally be able to tell the truth.

He holds you close and tenderly, kisses you hungrily because that's what he's been craving whenever those lips curve into a smile. And oh... you taste sweeter than he imagined and addictive and intoxicating, it's heavenly.

He splayed his hand on the beautiful arch of your back and pulls you close, not wanting any space separating his body from yours.

The moan you let slip out of your mouth, you have no idea what it does to him, how that makes the blood rushes down south.

If he's mad, it's because he couldn't kiss you all day and night. But he believes you would take it the wrong way too.

He's worried for you, he cares about you, he thinks about you, he does all that and you still think he hates you. It's only right that he's mad because you think that's what he has for you: hate.

He's also mad because he wants you but you're a friend of a friend.

Hyunjin learned his lesson the hard way and that wakes him up from his daze of being sucked into the whirlpools in your eyes.

He pulls away from the kiss, from the daze, from how your eyes plead for one more kiss. Looking back at those eyes makes him want to tell you everything but there's a good chance that you'd only misunderstand him again.

"Now, try to forget that!" He says right to your face despite knowing it'll be hard for him to do the same thing, not when the taste of your lips only reminds him the reason why he did what he did: he wishes you were a stranger.

-

It's not a great morning.

You've been drinking water non-stop to help with the hangover but you can't shake it off yet. It's a good thing that the agency chartered a private plane instead of putting them on commercial flights. You lowly groan as you climb the steps to get into the plane and see that you're the first to get there. You take the farthest seat, all the way back to avoid everyone but ultimately, him, Hyunjin.

A few minutes later, you hear their arrival and you quickly pull the hoodie over your head to hide your face even though it's pointless to do so.

As they're about to take a seat, Vin takes a stand in the front and tells everyone to pay attention to him as he's about to make an announcement.

Of course it's not just an announcement, he's going to scold everyone for going out without his permission.

"Whose idea was it?"

You wince because the idea originated from how they felt bad for you which makes it, technically, your idea. It's hard to admit that you're wrong but you slowly raise your hand to...

"It was me!" Han calmly says.

Everyone stays silent for a moment but Felix raises his hand and says, "But all of us agreed to go," he adds.

That is partly true. Han didn't ask for anyone's approval but yes, everyone just went along with him. Problem aside, it surprised you how Felix lied and it sounded natural, maybe he did change but you didn't know which part of him stays the same.

Vin continues to scold everyone with something along the lines of 'reckless behavior', and 'an important part of your career'. Knowing that those are not aimed toward you and with the hangover weighing your head and the lack of sleep, you start disassociating...

As your mind drifts, it takes you to last night when Hyunjin kissed you against the wall.

"Ugh!" You groan unintentionally loud that everyone is looking at you.

"You have something to say?" Vin asks.

You scratch the back of your head in confusion while trying to think of an answer, "I'm very sorry," you tell him, putting on a sad face as best as you could. Good thing that the hangover supported the look.

After hours of flight, you have to take an hour-long of car ride since the festival is taking place on farmland in the countryside.

It's summer but it's drizzling when you arrived at the hotel or more like a bed and breakfast than a hotel and for the first time, you finally get your own room.

You throw yourself onto the bed and sigh in delight as your head touches the pillow. Man... this is heaven!

The knocking on the door disturbs the peaceful moment. For a second, you feel like pretending not to hear that so whoever is behind that door can leave you alone.

"Are you inside?"

At the sound of his voice, you rush to get up the bed and open the door.

"Yes?" Your vision is a bit blurry from getting up too fast but you see Vin standing there looking serious as usual.

"Follow me, we have a meeting!" He orders, already turning to leave.

He's always like that, making orders without telling you the details. You have zero ideas what the meeting will be about, for all you know, it could be about something else. Imagine how sad it would be if you bring your stuff only for him to tell you that you got fired.

From the doorway of your room, you nervously ask him, "Should I bring my laptop or—"

Vin is about to take the stairs to the second floor when you asked, he looks down at you and says, "Of course!"

The answer is still vague but you quickly grab your laptop and phone, heading upstairs to the small living room where Vin has set his laptop for a Zoom meeting.

It seems that it's not going to be a great day as well, you're not getting fired. At least, not today.

-

Ssick will be headlining the second day of the festival which is tomorrow night.

Hyunjin is getting ready for the band rehearsal and heads downstairs, stopping for a second to see the door of your room closed shut.

Felix and Lou are already downstairs, having coffee in the kitchen even though they have twenty minutes or so before they have to go to a studio nearby.

"Coffee?" Lou offers.

"Sure," Hyunjin answers because when it comes to caffeine, it will never be enough for him.

He pulls a chair next to Felix and sits on it, "Where's Han?"

"He's working on a track, he'll be down in a few minutes," Lou replies as he carefully brings a cup of coffee for Hyunjin.

Felix and Hyunjin exchange a glance, knowing that a few minutes for Han takes more than that.

As if Han heard their thoughts, he lands on the base of the stairs a few minutes later as promised. He got greeted by Hyunjin and Felix's shocked expressions.

"I thought we have band rehearsal in five?" He comes to the dining table and grabs a biscuit Felix is eating.

"I'll get the car," Lou says, getting out of the house to get the car ready.

Lou pulls the car close to the front of the house and Hyunjin gets in after Felix and Han, looking back for a while waiting for someone else to come out.

Felix gets ahead of Hyunjin, asking Lou about you and Vin not coming.

Lou starts driving while talking, "They're in a meeting. Vin said he will catch up soon."

Hyunjin shouldn't be this disappointed to not be able to see you but Gosh, he can't hide it, he wishes to see you.

When he gets back from rehearsal, he walks past your room and he knows you're in there, somehow he can't bring himself to knock on your door.

At the end of the day, his wish stays a wish.

‐

Vin is right.

After finishing the meeting, you had a quick dinner with Vin in the kitchen with the food sent by the kind owner of the bed & breakfast.

He must have felt bad for making you work right after hours long of flight without stopping that he made you go to bed early so you'll be prepared for the job.

11 hours of sleep is really what you needed that you woke up feeling refreshed and ready for today. You'll not be taking just any photos, a magazine wants to do a special coverage for Ssick and they'll be using your photographs.

Since no one has woken up yet, you take a quick stroll around the small village, and apparently, the other performers also staying in the nearest inn or hotel.

"Morning!" A guy greets you as he joins you on your stroll, dressed in a windbreaker with a hoodie pulled over his head.

It feels awkward to interact with other people, guess you've been cooped up in the tour bus too long.

"Morning!" You greet back, slipping your hands inside your coat as you walk through the cold, misty morning.

"You're not from here are you?"

You shake your head, "No."

"You must be with someone?" He asks while matching his pace with you.

"Not really," you answer and you're aware that sounds so vague, "I'm with a band."

He lowly exclaims, "I'm with a band too," he says.

Grabbing his hoodie from being blown by the wind, he turns his head at you and asks, "What band?"

"Ssick," you answer.

"I'm their photographer," you add before he gets the wrong idea, thinking that you're a groupie or something.

"Cool!" He coyly comments.

Through the fog, you can see the bed and breakfast you're staying in with the garden lamp blinking low.

"I'm here," you tell the stranger.

You've just realized you didn't ask for his name when you tell him that but it's too late to ask now that you're leaving.

He glances at you and smiles, "Okay, see you then!"

"See you!" You say back even though you're not sure you'd see him again.

Vin is having a coffee in the kitchen, he doesn't bother to take a seat as his fingers are furiously typing his phone screen.

"Morning!" You greet him.

He doesn't look up but greets back, "How was your sleep?"

"So tight," you reply, taking a mug from the cabinet to pour yourself a cup of coffee.

"Why are you guys talking about being 'so tight' in the morning?" Lou asks from the stairs with his half-shut eyes.

You and Vin burst into laughs, he finally takes a seat at the dining table. Lou also plops onto the empty seat next to him. Breakfast is quiet and it's all thanks to the owner who cooked it deliciously.

"I'll be leaving in fifteen minutes and you," he points at Lou, "take the kids in the afternoon."

You lean against the kitchen counter and think of going with Vin instead of Lou, you don't want to stay still here when you have a lot of things to prepare.

"Can I go with you instead?" You ask Vin.

"Sure," he shortly replies.

In the 10 minutes he gave you, you pack everything you need into a backpack and do not forget your rain boots just in case it will rain as the weather app on your phone predicted.

It only takes ten minutes of car ride to get there, Vin hands you a pass at the entrance. You didn't know that it's a lot pleasant going with Vin, he's so well known that everyone doesn't ask for his ID and greets him warmly.

He takes you to a trailer which will be the band's green room, they even set a little yard outside the trailer with lounge chairs and a parasol.

"You might need this," he gives you a map of the festival with the setlist of performers on the back.

"The festival is so big so don't wander too far," he warns you.

Vin steps out of the trailer as his phone constantly beeping with notifications.

You follow him out of the door, "are you going?"

"Well... yeah," he answers like it isn't obvious enough, "I have to take care of a few things."

You didn't know why you ask him that when that's what he's been doing, going around and taking care of things. You feel stupid for thinking that he came here early just to laze around.

"You can come with me if you want," he offers.

"Can I?" You must have looked like a puppy when you asked him.

He shrugs and walks to the yard, "I can introduce you to some friends," he says.

They're not just some friends.

Vin takes you around the festival grounds, meeting some officials and going around the tents and trailers of the other performers of the festival.

He knows a lot of people, famous or not, but important nonetheless. You even took a few snaps of it because when else you'll get another chance like this?

Vin is again right about the festival being incredibly big, you wouldn't know your way around if you weren't with him. The festival starts at noon with the festival ground gradually crowded with people.

"Want to check a stage?" Vin asks after successfully snatching two burritos for lunch from a band's waiting room.

"Absolutely!" you excitedly answer.

The security lets Vin in without question, they don't even bat an eyelash at yours since you're coming with him.

It's fascinating to know the inside scoop of his job and get to know him more in the process. The Vin that you know is a little uptight and always serious but from the way you've seen how people greeted him warmly, he's so much more than his job.

Hours passed by because of how far it gets from one place to the other, Vin gets you to visit another stage as a band he knows about to play.

"I was once their manager," Vin whispers at you as he gets to the back of the stage with you following him closely from behind.

The band is warming up when Vin makes an appearance and they're delighted to see him, exchanging hugs and jokes, making you feel left out for a bit until someone recognizes you.

"I know you," he says.

You recognize him as the guy who took a stroll with you this morning, he looks unrecognizable without his raincoat and the mist.

Vin turns around to introduce you, "she's working for the band and..." He then introduces him to you, "This is Jeongin!"

You take a step forward to shake hands with him and he smiles at you so warmly that dimples appeared on his cheeks.

"Would love to talk more but we have to get on the stage," he says.

"Oh sure, please don't make them wait," you almost wince at how stupid you sounded as if they would delay their performance just to talk to you.

You and Vin watching their performance together from the side of the stage. On their second song, Vin excuses himself because the band has arrived from the text message he got from Lou.

"You can stay," he tells you.

"But—"

"It's okay, you can stay," he assures you.

You nod because it's useless to answer him against the loud music playing.

"Have fun!" He adds with a squeeze on your shoulder.

As you turn to watch the band again, you see Jeongin looking at you.

-

Hyunjin sees the camera bag but not the owner.

He can't get any hints about your whereabouts either as Lou is going out of the trailer as soon as he received a message from Vin.

"Vin will be here so please, don't set anything on fire!" Lou warns them.

When he thought Han only left for the bathroom, he went with Lou to God knows where. It shouldn't upset him but everyone is leaving without telling him, only Felix is staying in the trailer with him.

He senses Hyunjin is getting antsy from the way his knee is bouncing despite he is slouching on the sofa.

"They're at the D stage," Felix informs as he got a reply from Lou telling him where they are.

"Do you want to go?"

Hyunjin tries to act nonchalant about it but can't wait to get out of there as well, "yeah, okay," he coyly says.

He can only hope that the beanie he's wearing is enough to hide his red hair, he kind of regrets it now for dying it with such bright color.

It's easy to tell that a few people recognize him, not when Felix is also with him and making it easier for them to know for certain that it's them.

Luckily, most of them decided to leave them be. Felix calls Lou once again to know their exact location while Hyunjin is craning his neck looking for them around the stage.

The second Hyunjin spots Lou's bleached buzzed hair, he points at the pit after the barricade and shouts, "There they are!" 

He lets Felix takes the lead, running to where Han and Lou are watching a band's performance. Hyunjin swallows air because he knows you're also there.

Instead of you, he finds someone else. It's too late to avoid her as she looks his way.

"Hyunjin?" She calls.

Felix also heard her calling for Hyunjin, he turns to Hyunjin and asks, "Who is she?"

It's someone he wishes not to see.

-

Ssick's stage starts at 9.

Vin insists that everyone must gather at the trailer at 8.15 at the latest and you're 5 minutes late. Running from the gate to the trailer after getting lost in the mud and walking in it isn't easy either.

You can feel beads of sweat on your back but keep running to the trailer, the golf car that you assume will be used to take the band there is parked outside the trailer.

"I'm sorry, I'm late!" You blurt out the moment you get into the trailer.

You're so ready to get scolded but the only person you found inside is Vin, a hand on his waist and the other is pressing his phone close to his ear.

"I told you to take them here by 8," he nags into the phone.

It's safe to assume that it's Lou or any of the band members, whoever that is, hope they're doing okay. You silently take your camera bag from the countertop and sling the strap around your shoulder.

"You," Vin points at you.

"Yes?" You shortly reply with horror in your eyes.

"You can go first," he says.

You stifle a nod and go outside, it's not the time to ask for details so you get on the golf car per his instruction, no questions asked.

Thanking the driver before they head back to pick up the band, you prepare your camera as the staff still working on setting the stage despite the crowd filling the ground.

You take a peek from the side of the stage and instantly get goosebumps, there are so many people, all the way to the back, as far as your eyes can see.

They're so big, so popular, it's a time like this that you feel grateful for your job.

The stage itself is so big that you get tired from taking a walk around the front, you take a few pictures of the crowd behind the barricade and ones with interesting banners or costumes.

A few minutes before the stage starts, rain is pouring and you quickly go to the back of the stage to grab two disposable raincoats, one you wrapped around your camera and you put the other one on you.

Tonight will be one for history. Not trying to pressure yourself, but the pictures you're taking today will be published in a magazine.

The band takes the stage at 9.10 due to the weather check but fortunately, the rain turns into light showers, therefore they're allowed to perform.

Despite the weather and the ground turning into a pit of mud and puddles, the crowd becomes alive once they opened the stage with two songs non-stop until they get to their introduction.

"Hello, we're Ssick!" Han speaks into the mic.

He wipes the sweat on his forehead and brushes the hair curtained his face to the back, "Thank you for choosing to have fun with us in the rain!"

The crowd cheers, ignoring their heads and clothes that are sopping wet from the rain and you can feel their enthusiasm, how they're having fun without care.

You can stay down the pit long because Felix's solo is coming up soon, dragging your feet in the mud. You climb to the stage fast.

Unlike the last time, you coordinated it well with Lou. He'll guide you from behind as you take their pictures on the stage. Lou grabs a fistful of the back of your t-shirt while muttering cautions, "Be careful with the cables!"

You listen to him with your hand rapidly taking pictures from different angles. Your heart is pounding as the music roaring loud that there's no time to get personal when it comes to capturing Hyunjin in pictures, turning everyone's heads to see his nimble fingers on the guitar.

That feels like a second when you spent four minutes on the stage. Lou pulls you back to the side of the stage and you only realized then that a few people are watching the show from here.

Just like you predicted, it's one of the most memorable of all the stages they've done. They're so reluctant to get off the stage even though the night is late and from dark shadows hanging in the sky, it seems likely that the rain will pour again.

The band is celebrating their successful night headlining festival inside the big tent right behind the stage, so many people coming, famous and important.

You see the girl you saw earlier, she is one that you recognized watched the band from the side of the stage.

As you threw the disposable raincoats into the bin, Lou comes to you with a bottle of water.

"Thank you," you mutter, taking it from him and not wasting another second to gulp it.

He hands you a towel next, using it to dry your hair and neck, brushing your damp hair from the mix of sweat and rainwater with your finger to put them into place after.

"So many people," you mutter under your breath.

Lou shrugs as he takes a sip of his beer, "well, they're famous," he simply says.

You steal a sip of his beer and gasp, "Can't relate to that."

From across the tent, you see the girl making her way to Hyunjin and starts talking to him. You don't want to know but you know you can't rest well without knowing who she is.

"Who is she?" You ask without looking at their direction as they're engaged in a conversation.

You take a bottle of beer from the cooler and uncap it, even though you're not a fan, today is an exception.

"You know that Hyunjin was in a band before Ssick, right?"

You nod and take a sip of the finely chilled beer.

"Rumor has it that he decided to quit the band because he and the vocalist fought over a girl," Lou explains with a subtle sly smile.

You scoff in disbelief, "Let me guess... she is the girl?"

Lou repeatedly nods, slyly smiling even when he's sipping his beer.

"So it's not the finale yet?" You playfully ask.

"Kind of," he replies.

So Hyunjin is hung up on a girl or is it the other way around? You don't want to know. You're already having a hard time doing what he asked you to do and that is to forget that stupid kiss.

That doesn't seem like a hard task now that you know he has a girl in his mind.

You take another look at them, talking to each other with eyes that also speak so much. Your eyes drift to Felix who's standing next to Hyunjin, also looking like he doesn't seem to fancy her as much.

You finish your beer and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, "I'm going to the trailer. I need to wash up," you tell Lou.

"Want me to come with you?" Lou offers.

"Nah, I'll be back soon," you tell him.

Using the flashlight on your phone only helps so much with the muddy grassy path back to the trailer. It feels so close when you took the ride with the golf car, now you wish you took Lou's offer.

Taking a moment in the trailer, you struggle to take off your rainboots and wet clothes. You grab a sweater from the merch box and put it on, you're no longer shivering with dry clothes on.

Now that you're comfortable, you don't want to go back to the tent. You'd rather stay in the trailer and starts working on your photos, you're not trying to avoid a person or something. It's just been a tiring day already and...

"Hey, why aren't you partying?"

You search for the source of the voice and find Jeongin shouting from inside the car. He sees you standing in the doorway of the trailer with your camera bag, looking ready to go. You hope he doesn't see the conflicted feelings in your eyes.

"Do you need a lift?"

Without you realizing it, you nod at his offer and his dimpled smile.

-

Hyunjin's wish to see you is not yet granted.

Well, yes, he saw you taking his pictures but he couldn't see your face or heard your voice. He only got glimpses when he wanted to see the whole picture and stares at it as long as he could.

"She said she'll be back soon," Lou sounded worried as he ranted to Vin about you not coming back to the tent yet.

"I saw her leaving with the Cle boys," Vin calmly answers as if he just didn't let you go with a group of guys you don't know.

"What?" Felix is the first to show his concern at how wrong that sounded, "what do you mean she left with another band?"

And Felix rarely gets mad, not even at the slightest inconvenience.

"They're all good kids," Vin assures them, "also, they knew each other when I introduced them," he adds.

"Knew each other?" Felix once again represents Hyunjin by asking the question.

Vin turns at him and put his phone away, "look, I know their mothers. I'm sure they just hanging out or something," he says.

"Let's just go," Han breaks the intense conversation with exhaustion drawn on his face.

Hyunjin feels uneasy. He can't rest well even when you're in sight but now, no one knows where you are and you're with people that he doesn't know and it stressed him out that he has to hide his concern.

Hyunjin can only ball his hands into fists on his lap, worrying you and worrying about things that could happen.

It surprises him that Hyunjin isn't the only one worrying about you, well, besides Felix. Han is calling your name the moment he enters the bed and breakfast where they're staying.

"She's not here!" Han says as he checks your room and it's empty.

Vin heavily sighs, "she's going to be okay," he insists when he's unsure of his answer as well.

Lou calls you on the phone but you're not answering. He calls you again and still no answers. Everyone starts to panic and Hyunjin can only watch, getting nervous as time passes with no clues of your whereabouts.

"You guys can rest. Lou and I will search for her," Vin resolves as he puts his jacket back on.

Hyunjin stays where he is and the others too, no one is obeying Vin. He draws a sharp breath through his nostrils and is about to scold them again for the third time today when they collectively heard footsteps coming from the stairs.

"You guys are back?" You innocently ask with your hair wrapped in a towel and a toothbrush in hand.

Lou starts to laugh while Felix comes to pick you up at the base of the stairs, "where have you been?" His voice is strained from holding his anger in.

"I had to use the bathroom upstairs. The hot water not coming out from the one downstairs," you answer while going down the stairs. Felix pulls you into his hug as you remain confused about the situation.

Hyunjin's body relaxed as he quietly lets out a sigh of relief and finally have his wish granted.

Han picks up his bag from the floor and heads for the stairs, "I really thought you turn to become a groupie for another band," he jokingly says.

You get even more confused with what he said, "huh?"

Vin rubs his forehead and closes the door, "I told you. She's fine," he mutters as he takes his jacket off again.

You hold hands with Felix, taking him to the kitchen to talk, "what happened?"

Felix puts his hands on the dining table to support him, "Vin saw you left with the other..." he doesn't finish his sentence, "Nevermind. We're glad you're okay."

Your mouth parts open in surprise, certainly didn't expect them to worry this much for you.

"They gave me a lift here so I could start early on retouching the photos for the magazine," you concisely explain.

Hyunjin is listening to your conversation when Vin grabs him by the arm, taking him upstairs with him, "Let's get some rest. We have an early flight tomorrow!"

Hyunjin has seen you and he has heard your voice, but it's not enough. It'll never be enough.

He's afraid that as each day passes, he wants more than just seeing and hearing.

-

Back on the tour bus, it feels like going back home when in fact, the tour bus gives you a sense of comfort like home, while in fact, it's not.

Also, you're getting used to a lot of things and the staffs know you now that you got greeted everywhere you go. The people you're with feel more than just acquaintances and coworkers, they feel like one big unit. Maybe that's just the result of what happens when you put people in a moving, confined space together for a period of time.

Looking back at it, you were so skeptical about this job, your skill, and your ability to handle life on the road. Now, you feel proud of yourself for overcoming those struggles.

The bad and the good that happened are lessons that you must learn to be able to grow as a person.

There are only a few stops left on the tour and your heart is aching that this is going to end soon. It makes you hold on to it tighter than before. Especially knowing that soon, all of these will become memories.

This, the present, will soon become a part of that precious memories too.

You're on your way back from soundcheck when you meet Vin right outside the door, "I got something for you," he says.

You uneasily smile because that's an unlikely thing for him to say, "Y-yeah?"

He puts his arm around your shoulder and gets into the green room together. From the table, he takes a magazine and flips open to a page, once he found what he's looking for, he shows it to you.

It's so surreal that it feels like seeing a dream, you take the magazine from him and see it yourself. The photos you took at the festival are there, printed on paper. In the corner of the page, you see your name printed in small fonts.

"You did a good job!" Vin proudly says with a squeeze on your shoulder.

You can't help but smile, feeling proud of yourself and for once, receiving a compliment from Vin validated it.

"Drinks on me tonight!" He adds before leaving you to furtherly admire your work on your own.

Happy news should be shared, you're going around the room looking for the one person you can think of in a moment like this. You find him near the changing room with the stylist doing alterations to his jeans.

"Felix!"

"Hey, what's up?" He looks up to see you.

Without saying anything, you show him the magazine with a wide grin on your face.

He leans in close to see and coos in awe, "Whoa, I look so good in here," he points to the picture of him on the page.

Your grin fades and is replaced with an annoyed glare, "This is about me, not you," you tell him.

He bursts into laughter and holds his hand out at you, he can't move with the stylist still adjusting the length of his jeans while squatting down next to his feet.

You take his hand and let him place a kiss on your hand, "congrats, babe!"

Felix knows how to win you over with such a simple gesture, you know he's the right person to share this happiness with. Not forgetting that he's the one who landed you this job. That makes you grateful for him.

"Is this why Vin looks exceptionally happy today?" Lou asks as he flips open the magazine to see it.

You're drinking a can of cola while sitting next to him on the sofa.

"He said he'll be taking us out for drinks tonight," you say.

He whistles in excitement, "It's about time!"

Han snatches the magazine away from him and sees it for himself, "oh, your photos are really great!"

You can't help but smile, "thank you," you sheepishly reply.

Felix appears behind you and casually places a kiss on the top of your head, "that's my girl!" He confidently brags, then walks back to his chair to get his make-up done,

Han aggressively shuts the magazine and slaps it on the table, "excuse me, she's not only taking your photos," he complains.

Han moves to sit next to you and put his arm around your shoulder, there he continues speaking, "Which makes her, respectfully, our girl, not yours."

Lou also put his arm around your shoulder and agrees with Han's remark, "Our girl!"

You're laughing at the way Lou and Han are teasing you by trapping you between them, oblivious that there's someone who has no say in this.

-

Our girl?

Hyunjin likes to hear that, that means you are his too even if it's only a quarter of it. Maybe that's why he's only able to see you. But when it comes to talking to you, even just a simple exchange of good morning like you do with Vin. He's discouraged, afraid that you'd misunderstand him again.

Still... he wants more than just to see and talk.

He wants that pretty smile to greet him as he gets off the stage like you always give to Felix, a pat on the shoulder as you endearingly tell him, "You were so great as always!"

Is that too much to ask for?

There are only a few stops left on the tour and he feels like he's running out of time but what he needs to do is still unclear.

"Hyunjin?"

Someone calls for him and he turns around to find someone he wishes not to see, making her way to him.

"Why are you here?" He's not aware of how rude that sounded but that's the first thing that crossed his head at the sight of her.

The girl whom he likes once, who is a friend of a friend and she got in between their friendship. If there's one thing Hyunjin learned from this, to never like a girl who's a friend of a friend because, in the end, he could lose both the friendship and love.

She chuckles at Hyunjin's defensive response, "I was in town for a job so... I don't see why I shouldn't come," she answers.

It was two weeks ago that they met at the festival and she was there because her boyfriend, a friend and a former bandmate of Hyunjin, performing at the festival too.

But the main reason why he doesn't want to see her again is because Hyunjin chose to step away from it, he gave her up to save at least his friendship. That too, he couldn't save it.

There's no regret because Hyunjin knows it's for the best. So, he doesn't get why she's here.

From the way her smile wavers, Hyunjin senses that she knows she's not welcomed.

Felix comes behind him, "Come on! Vin is going to treat us to drinks tonight!" He excitedly says to Hyunjin.

It takes Felix a moment to realize that there's someone else there and a low gasp slipped out of him, "Oh...?"

"Well, I'm certainly not invited," She playfully remarks with a sad smile.

Hyunjin is not that petty but he wishes that he can be firm, telling her no would be the right choice.

"What are you guys doing? Let's go!" Vin shouts from the end of the hallway.

Then again, Hyunjin can't bring himself to say no, "You—"

Felix cuts through Hyunjin's words, "We'd love to invite you but it's for close people only so..."

She sheepishly smiles and nods, "it's alright," she says.

People are prone to Felix's charm and Hyunjin is thankful that Felix decided to step in and politely reject her on his behalf, it makes things easier for him.

"But we hope you enjoyed the concert," Felix quickly adds.

"I did. I had so much fun," she responds.

She fiddles with the strap of her bag, having something to say to Hyunjin but can't say it with Felix in there.

He senses it and excuses himself to leave first.

"Hyunjin," she calls.

He doesn't answer but looks at her, how her eyes are looking back at him but not giving the same effects as they used to.

Hyunjin doesn't need to hear another one of her efforts to make her way in, "listen," he says.

"I made my choice and you know what? I like where it took me," he explains.

That catches her off guard, maybe didn't expect Hyunjin to reject her right here, right now.

Hyunjin places his hand on her shoulder, "I'm afraid there's no second chance for us," he softly speaks to her.

Her eyes turn glossy the longer he looks at them but also in them, he can see everything clearly for the first time.

She sniffles and says, "But Hyunjin—"

"I like someone else," he blurts out and he's sure of what he said, sure that it's what he feels for you. He likes you, he wants you.

That sounds final to her that she has nothing to say back to him but leave for good. It's sad that Hyunjin has failed his first love but isn't that why it's called first love? Because there'll be a next one.

Hyunjin wants to do better on the next one and he knows what to do now.

-

Vin doesn't play around when he says he's treating everyone to drinks.

He takes everyone to the hotel bar which is located on the 8th floor of the hotel, providing its visitors with a stunning view of the city at night.

"We have finished more than fourteen concerts in nine cities and one festival this summer," Vin says, standing at the end of the table with a drink in his hand.

"I'd like to thank everyone for behaving..." he pauses for a second, changing his mind about what he wanted to say, "not so well but still manageable," he finally finishes.

He turns at you who sits between Felix and Lou on the left side of the table, "and our new addition to the bunch..."

You smile at him, curious about what he has to say about you.

"I realize that I never get to tell you how you've been very patient with me, us...." a wave of laughter halts him from continuing.

"Despite that, I am grateful that you're part of the team and I want to tell you that you've been working hard," he earnestly says.

It's the first time you heard him talking from the deep down of his heart that it elicits an emotional response from you. You feel validated and appreciated, you feel seen and heard, acknowledged.

"Come here!" He gestures for you to come to his side.

You get up from your seat with the help of Felix pulling the chair for you, then take a stand next to Vin.

"This is for you, for putting up with us," he raises his glass.

And everyone followed suit, raising their glasses in the air.

"And for four more shows to go!" He adds.

"To our girl!" Han shouts from across the table.

You laugh because he's not letting go of the debate.

But Vin repeated his words back to everyone at the table, "To our girl!"

With that being said, everyone is finally allowed to drink their picks of alcohol. You drink yours as well and wince at the burning feeling down your throat as you swallowed it all.

Vin pulls you into a side hug, "Have a lot of drinks tonight. You deserve it!"

You chuckle at his words, "thank you," you mutter to him.

That indeed sounds so tempting, you would love to keep drinking and have fun after a little while.

But the last time you got drunk, it didn't end that well. You want to avoid making the same mistake, so you decide to drink moderately and try not to think of Hyunjin, how he talked to that girl in the hallway with his hand on her shoulder, how you failed to do what Hyunjin asked you to do.

That fucking kiss, you curse inside your head and finish your first drink of the night.

Somehow on the third drink, the melancholic feeling that this soon will be over returns, hitting you with a wave of sadness that you have a hard time swallowing your drink.

"Have another one with me," Lou says, refilling your glass with more drink.

"It's the last one for me," you inform him.

He laughs as he slides the drink at you, "yeah, sure," he says with a sly smirk.

You might have lied about that being the last drink, you have two more drinks after and alternate it with soda in between.

It's a good strategy, you feel like a real adult for being sober enough to walk back to your hotel room while Lou has to send Han back to his room, drunk out of his mind.

The sight of the mess on the table distracts you, your initial plan is to end the day right here. No one asks you to do anything today, not even Vin.

"Ugh!" You groan, losing the battle to remain unbothered about not finishing your work of the day.

It's a habit that you created yourself and you suffer from it now.

I should have gotten drunk, you scold yourself.

There's a knock on the door, it must be Lou coming back from putting his best friend to sleep. You open the door without looking and walk back to the desk, "I'll be working all night. You can have the bed," you tell him.

You hear no answer but the sound of the door being closed behind you.

A while later, someone else replies to you, "You don't have to worry, he'll be sleeping in my room tonight."

Who did you let in just now? You know who it is but you refuse to believe that you're right. You take a deep breath before bracing yourself to the grand reveal, that it's him, Hyunjin.

"What are you doing here?" You have the right to be defensive, considering that it's your room, the only private space you have and he came here uninvited.

"I want to talk to you," he calmly replies.

You get up from your chair as he's coming closer and leans against the headrest of the chair.

"About what?"

"About us," he shortly replies.

Your heart starts beating so fast and you don't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing it, you clear your throat before speaking again.

"I don't think we have something to talk about," you hope he didn't hear how your voice quivers at the end of the sentence.

"Oh, we do," he says while still walking towards you even though he's close enough that you have to start looking up to look at him due to the height difference.

You're not in the mood for his unfriendly words and glares, "We can talk some other time—"

"I want you to know that I have nothing between me and that girl," he says, sharing information that you don't even ask in the first place.

You hold your hands up to stop him from continuing and furtherly thinking that you want to know the truth.

"No, I don't care. I don't want to know," you tell him as best as you can without having to be rude because that's his thing, not yours.

He takes another step closer, eliminating the gap between your bodies and leaving mere inches for you to breathe. How can you think if you can see his beautiful face this close that you can see the tiny mole under his left eye? How can you force your brain to work it's busy playing the recollection of that night in the back of your head, haunting you with how soft his lips feel against yours.

"I want you to know. I want you..." he emphasizes the word you with an intense stare, "to care. I want you to be jealous," he insists his narrative on you and wanted it to be true.

That sounds just so absurd coming from him and it's making you burst into laughter. The most careful and reserved person you ever come across said that. You feel bad to let him know that you could be anything but jealous. In terms of look, yeah, you're jealous that she's much prettier than you but jealous because she's with him...

"I am not jealous," you tell him with a scoff, but that doesn't sound convincing, that sounded like you're offended instead.

"Why should I be jealous? I-I'm—" You lose track of what you're going to say to him. You wince at how you make yourself look like a fool in front of him.

"Our kiss... did you manage to forget it?" He cuts you off with a question that you don't have the answer to.

Slightly tipping his head, Hyunjin leans a little closer to the side of your head you can feel his breath fanning your cheek.

Needing something to hold on to, you grip the edge of the chair behind your back, tightly.

"Why do you care so much whether I forgot about it or not?" Your voice is shaky and small.

He slyly smiles and it looks good on him as if he knows it would scramble your brain, making it hard for you to stay focused. In other words, he knows he's winning.

"If you forgot about it then..." he puts his hand under your chin and angles your head, forcing you to look at him right in the eyes.

"I just have to remind you again," he softly speaks as it takes everything in him to try not to kiss you from the moment he laid your eyes on you.

Now that he leans in closer than before and you can feel his warm breath brushing your lips. As much as you don't want to be reminded, you close your eyes in anticipation of what's coming at you.

As your lips collide in a rapturous, spellbinding kiss that takes your breath away but at the same time, breathes life into you.

Hyunjin kisses you tenderly, savoring the taste that he craves so much. He kisses you slowly because that's how he should treat a beautiful thing.

And a beautiful thing is always fragile. 

-

Hyunjin is drunk from your scent.

That doesn't stop him from planting kisses on any skin he can land his lips on, soft on soft, like kissing a flower. No words are needed when his desire is taking control of his body and your body answers to his craving.

He uses his hand to feel you all over, fingertips trailing every inch of your skin that makes him whimper under his breath.

You're much softer than he imagined, silky soft, and warm, so sensitive to his touch, shivering every time he touches you in certain places.

He can feel your hesitant yet curious hands exploring his body, slowly and gently, like you're afraid it would discomfort him. Oh, if only you know how much he likes being touched by your pretty hands. He takes them and kisses each fingertip with his lips right in front of you.

"You're so soft," he softly sighs as he pushes your hand close to his cheek, then places a tender kiss on the inside of your hand.

You look at him with your eyes in a daze, probably thinking that it was all just a dream.

So he leans in and kisses you for the umpteenth time that night, carefully putting his body on top of you, skin on skin, his body on your body, becoming one under the cover.

As he pulls away from the kiss, he puts his elbow against the mattress to take a good look at you. His thumb wipes your lips, still amazed at how soft they feel.

It tempts him to place another kiss and they're softer against his lips, he feels like kissing the clouds.

"How come you're so soft?" He asks in pure wonder.

All Hyunjin knows is loud and rough, all he's been touching are metal strings and hard surfaces, and his ears are used to buzzing noises and explosive sounds.

Now that he lays his hand on you, he knows that you're something that he should treat gently, with so much tenderness and care, he doesn't want to break such a beautiful thing with his hands that only knows how to push things to the limit.

He gently rubs your cheek with his knuckle, heating under his touch. He leans in to kiss you again, having no power in him to stop himself, he believes kissing you has become an addiction.

He's only an inch away from your lips when you open your mouth to say, "But you hate me..." 

Hyunjin smiles because he has expected to hear this from you, sooner or later, he didn't know you would choose to say this when he's about to kiss you.

"I do hate you," he says.

Your eyes widened at his answer while Hyunjin softly chuckled from seeing your reaction.

"I hate you for thinking that's the only thing I feel for you," he explains.

He takes your hand and puts it around his neck, he wants your soft hand touching him, feeling him, all over. Leaning down closer, leaving only an inch between your faces.

"I feel other things too for you. I like you from the moment we met, I care for you, I worry about you, I think of you, sleep or awake. I like having you around me, I like seeing you everywhere I look and when I'm not looking, I unconsciously search for you. I am... pathetically in love with you," he pours every content of his heart, everything that you need to know.

Your gaze softens and it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, like watching the sun rises in your eyes, hopeful and warm.

"But you have no idea, do you?" He says with his eyes deeply staring into yours.

"How would I know when you always seemed to be mad at me?" You innocently ask him back.

That makes Hyunjin chuckles. He admits that his way of showing you affection is unconventional. What can he say? He's bad at it. But he likes how innocent you sound that he hastily kisses your lips, he then draws a sharp breath and lets out a pleasant sigh, "What do you even know?"

He can't wait to kiss you again so he does, indulging himself in the temptation and how sweet it tastes. The hand that is slipping into the back of his head puts him in utmost comfort.

Hyunjin hasn't seen your body with his eyes but he can picture in his hand from his exploration, the nook and crook, the dips and curves, he admires all of it.

Beautiful would be an understatement but that's what you are. Your eyes, your smile, your lips, the birthmark on your body, the scars that marked your skin, your little fingers, everything.

His hand goes to where he wants to touch you, to show you what he can do, to make you feel good, to...

"Hyunjin..."

You call him again in a heating moment where he unconsciously holds his breath for only God knows how long.

His first thought is that you don't want to do it. It's entirely his fault for reading the signs wrong. He hurriedly draws his hand out from under the cover.

"We don't have to do it if you don't want to," he assures you with a sweet kiss on your lips.

With your hand around his neck, you keep him close and then you whisper into his ear, "Condoms are in the bathroom."

You hide half of your face under the cover, flustered from telling him about it. He finds it adorable that he wants to take a bite of you.

"I'll go get it," he says, doesn't waste time walking to the bathroom to get it. He spots your toiletry bag near the sink, rummaging inside to take two foil packs.

When he returns, you're waiting on the bed while clutching the bed cover to your chest. Hyunjin sits at the edge of the bed to open one and securely rolled the rubber down his length.

It slightly surprises him that you greet him with a kiss as he gets under the cover, he takes it that you begin to relax around him.

That means he's on the right way so he kisses you back, hungrily and intensely with his hand squeezing the flesh on your waist. He gives you a moment to make yourself comfortable around him before letting his hand wander down south.

You part your legs open for him and let him touch you there, touching the delicate flesh that's already wet even though he hasn't started yet.

He's aware of how rough his hand is, he attentively watches your face to make sure you're uncomfortable with the way he touches you.

That doesn't enough for him, he needs to know for sure. "Good?" He asks against your lips.

You pull away just enough to give him a nod of confirmation.

More kisses, more touches later, his hand is drenched in your essence and his cock is throbbing, impatient to be inside you.

Hyunjin decides to hover above you without taking his lips off of you. He takes his hand away from your cunt and rubs your lips with his fingers coated with your juice, doesn't hesitate to kiss you next.

Oh, he can taste all of you in that kiss and it's so fucking sweet. He gasps when he lets go of the kiss.

It's driving him wild, making him so eager to be inside you. He slips his hand under the cover and slowly, exposes your body as he puts the cover away.

"Beautiful..." he murmurs as his eyes are feasting on your heavenly body.

Maybe this is why you kept it hidden all these times, you knew that it would make him salivate like a hungry animal. Hyunjin sits on the space between your legs and keeps them open wide for him, he pumps his hard cock with his hand before rubbing it on your slit, lubing it with your bodily fluid.

Moans spilling out of your parted mouth, low and sultry, instantly become his new favorite tune.

Be gentle, he reminds himself, fighting the urge to be inside you as soon as possible.

A broken moan escaped your mouth as Hyunjin teases your entrance with only the tip.

"Let's take it slow, mmh?" and he should have said that to himself.

Holding your legs in place, Hyunjin continues by slowly entering you. He pushes into you with eyes intently watch as his length disappears into you little by little.

Gosh, you take him so well, so good, so tightly. He groans at the overwhelming feeling, engulfed in the immense pleasure of finally being inside you, becoming one with you.

He lowers his mouth on your neck and kisses you there, humming as the pleasure of being inside you hasn't dissipated yet.

"Mmh. Yeah, so good, you feel so good," he murmurs close to your ear.

After a moment of composing himself, Hyunjin kneels on the bed and hooks your legs around his waist. He begins thrusting into you and each thrust sends him deeper into you that he's having a hard time controlling himself.

He doesn't want to rush it, he wants to make it last as long as he could, he wants to make it special for you, he wants to—then you clench around him when he thought he had it controlled.

"Good?" He asks as he looks down at you.

There's no reply and he knows it's because you're too shy to say it. From the way your body moves along to his cock slipping in and out of you, he believes it is.

Hyunjin takes a moment to take it all in: how beautiful you are laying under him, your breasts jiggling along to his intense thrust into you, your hands tightly gripping the sides of your pillow and your toes curling against the white sheet.

It's all beautiful, devastatingly beautiful.

Hyunjin slowed his pace and lowers his body on you, he kisses you while keep motioning his hips into you.

"Let's cum together, mmh?"

You're panting against his lips yet you are still able to respond with a nod.

Hooking your legs around him once again, he starts to pick up the pace. His hands found yours and laced them together with his, pinning them on each side of your head.

"Close, mmh?" He can tell from your moans turning into breathless whines.

Hyunjin thrusts faster than before, fast as he could, taking both of you to your highs.

"Look at me," he orders, making you turn your head to look and locked eyes with him. He wants to see your eyes, how they shine with his cock deep inside you. He's curious about what he'll see in them as you come undone.

However, your eyes are fluttering shut when he feels you cumming around him and you're sucking him deeper, tighter that Hyunjin has no way to fight the urge anymore.

One, two thrusts later, he gets to his release, filling the condom with his seed. He collapses on top of you, his chest against your chest, two hearts lying so close together.

"I hate you," he says to you.

"I hate you for making me so crazy over you."

Hyunjin might have emptied his heart by telling you the truth, but his heart remains full of his love for you.

-

You think you're dreaming it.

Without opening your eyes, you touch the hand wrapped around you and it's real. You look over your shoulder to see him, his faded red hair looking like cotton candy against the white pillow.

Time for a reality check. You rub your eyes and take another look. Hyunjin is fast asleep next to you, his hand is around you, holding you close.

Naked.

You suddenly get so aware of yourself, of your body and appearance. He has seen everything by now but still, your insecurities are not going anywhere.

The knocking on the door comes again.

Then you realized that you woke up thinking you dreamed of hearing the knockings. It's probably Lou, he needs to take his things.

"It's me, Felix!" 

That's when you are filled with dreads. You scramble to pick up your clothes from the floor but that would take too much time and he'll keep knocking.

You grab a bathrobe from the bathroom and put it on quickly while heading to open the door.

"Yes?" You open just enough to pop your head out of the door.

He grins at the sight of you, "Did I wake you?"

You shake your head and put on a not-so-convincing smile, "No, I was in the bathroom," you lied.

"Oh?" He notices that you're in a bathrobe.

"What's up?" You ask.

"Let's get breakfast together," he says.

Felix did take you on breakfast a few times before but you didn't expect him to do it again today of all days.

"I-I have a stomach issue," you makeup excuses on the spot but can't find anything that is less embarrassing than this.

"You're sick, babe?" He asks with concern.

You shake your head again, "no, just, bad digestion," you stammer.

"Then let's order breakfast from your room," he says and takes a step to go through your hotel door.

"No!" You refuse a little too fast that it startles him.

"I mean, let's have it in your room," you resolve.

Felix is naturally a very caring person and knowing you're sick only gives him a reason to take care of you.

"My room is messy. Lou is unpacking his things... it's messy, you don't want to see it," you stumble on a word but it's convincing enough, or that's what you think.

"Okay then," Felix nonchalantly shrugs, "let's go to my room!"

He takes your hand and is about to drag you away, you keep the door open with your foot.

"I'm naked!" You blurt out.

He quickly lets go of your hand.

"I was about to take a hot bath when you came," you lie again.

He scans you for a moment, head to toe, probably noticing something is off about you, "are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I just need to get back in, put some clothes on and I'll go to your room," you start to rambling.

He takes another look at you then nods, "I go back to my room and order breakfast for us."

"Sounds great!" You exclaim with a fake smile.

"See you then!" He says, heading back to the elevator.

You walk back into your room and shut the door, leaning and banging your head against it, feeling bad for lying to Felix.

Hyunjin is still sleeping and you can't bring yourself to wake him up, not when your best friend is waiting in his room to have breakfast with you.

On the way to Felix's hotel room, you stop by Hyunjin's room knowing that Lou is inside. You softly knock, afraid that if you knocked too loud, Felix would hear it too since his room is right next to Hyunjin.

"Lou, it's me!" You whisper close to the door.

Thankfully, Lou is awake, or half awake more like. His eyes are half open and tired.

You push him back as you step inside and close the door, "Hyunjin is in our room!"

He rubs his eyes, "yeah, I know," he sleepily replies.

"We uh... we—"

"Oh, God! Spare me the explicit details!" He groans while covering his ear, then plops down onto the chair.

It gets you panicked that he knows even before you tell him what happened. Is it that obvious?

You hurriedly cover his mouth with your hand to shut him, "Can you get him... you know, I don't want anyone to know," you don't know how to make it sounds like you're asking him to do the hard task of telling Hyunjin to go back to his room and to pretend that last night didn't happen, at least not in front of everyone.

"Okay," he casually answers.

You put your hands on his shoulders and look into his sleepy eyes, "and please don't tell anyone."

He puts your hand down and sighs, "I don't even tell anyone how you like to steal the hotel's slippers," he mumbles.

To be honest, it's better if anyone knows you had sex with Hyunjin rather than them finding out about that bad habit of yours that Lou secretly learned from sharing a room with you.

"Thank you, Lou!" You sincerely tell him.

He reclines on the chair, "Don't worry. I got you," he assures you with a sleepy smile on his sleepy face.

"Now I have to go to have breakfast with Felix," you hand him your hotel keycard.

"Off seeing your first husband, huh?"

You ignore his joke and exit the room. Taking a deep breath, you stop right in front of Felix's room and then knock on his door.

-

Hyunjin is hoping to find you laying next to him.

Instead of that, someone is throwing a pile of clothes onto his back.

"I'm sorry, dude but you have to skedaddle," Lou says.

He slowly turns on the bed and squints as the sunlight hits his eyes, blinding him.

"What time is it?" He asks while trying to get up.

"It's ten-something," Lou answers. He's walking around the room taking things, and putting on clothes while talking.

His eyes are still heavy with sleep but seeing the space on the bed where you lay asleep so close to him brings him back to last night.

He can still smell you on him, on his lips, and fuck, that sends him thinking of how good you felt around him.

Notices that Hyunjin still hasn't moved from the bed yet, Lou turns around from looking at the mirror on the wall to remind him, "You have a fan sign at noon. You'd better hurry!"

He groans in response to Lou and drags himself out of the bed, in the bathroom he washes his face quickly, then puts on his clothes.

Hyunjin gets into the elevator with Lou as he's planning to go to Han's room which is located across from his. As it arrives at his floor, the doors slide open and he gets surprised to see you with Felix.

"Oh, hey!" Felix greets.

Hyunjin's eyes are on you and he so badly wants to ask why you left in the morning. Why you chose to be with Felix than spend the morning with him?

You look just as surprised, your eyes are open wide, not expecting to meet him there.

"Where are you guys going?" Lou is the one who breaks the silence.

"We just had breakfast and are about to go to get coffee," Felix answers, "what about you guys?"

Lou had to grab Hyunjin by the sleeve of his shirt and drag him out of the elevator.

"We just got back from breakfast downstairs and we're going to wake the sleepyhead," Lou once again being the only one talking to Felix while Hyunjin and you are exchanging cryptic glances at each other.

"You get in first, babe," Felix holds the elevator doors open to let you in first, then he gets in after you.

"Anyone wants coffee?" Felix offers, now holding the doors open with the button on the panel.

"Yes," Lou shortly replies.

"Okay," Felix lets go of the button and the elevator closes.

Lou lets out a long, heavy sigh, "you need to calm down," he tells Hyunjin.

Calm down? He asks inside his head. How can he calm down when he knows his girl is going out with another guy?

"That's Felix. They're friends," Lou reminds him.

That certainly snaps him out of it. Hyunjin indeed, needs to calm down. You are with your friend who's also his friend.

But does it mean he has to keep this relationship a secret?

As if Lou heard his thoughts, he stops him from walking with a hand on his chest.

"Look, I know you like her but telling everyone about it will only complicate things for her."

He turns on his feet to face Hyunjin, "she's working and the job is already hard for her. Letting everyone know about it will make it harder for her," he adds.

Lou licks his lips before speaking, "Give her time, give her space."

Lou is right and maybe that was why the first time he fell in love he fell out of it fast, because he was impatient, thinking that it was okay to hurry love.

He wants to do better this time, he wants forever with you.

"At least, you know, wait until the tour is over then you can do whatever the fuck it is you want," Lou concludes.

He leaves Hyunjin once he has said what he needed to say and goes to knock on Han's room.

"Wake up you sleepy sloth!" He shouts at his door.

At the fan sign, he keeps thinking over, what Lou said to him earlier. He decides that it's best to keep this a secret at least until the end of the tour. Until then, he'll keep this between him and you.

Now that he thinks of you, his mind is taking him back to last night...

"Felix, your birthday is coming soon!" A fan says to him.

That takes him out of his reverie, Hyunjin overheard the conversation since Felix is sitting next to him, and hearing that makes him feel like a terrible friend. He completely forgot that Felix's birthday is only weeks away.

"What is your wish for this year's birthday?" The fan asks him again.

"Love," he answers.

Felix chuckles again and he quickly glances at Hyunjin, so fast that he almost missed it, probably afraid that he finds his answer corny.

"And happiness," he then adds as he signed a poster for the fan.

"Why? Our love is not enough for you?" The fan asks with a pout.

Felix gently shakes his head, "I'm afraid it's not enough," he jokingly says with a wide grin.

When it comes to giving Felix a gift, Hyunjin wants to give him a special one, It's best if it's what he needs. It's what he deserves for being such a good friend, a great bandmate, and an all-around lovely person to keep.

Once the fan sign is done, Hyunjin walks to the car back with him.

"What do you want for your birthday?"

"You don't have to," Felix kindly refuses.

Hyunjin puts his arm around his shoulder and asks him again, "What is it? Tell me," he gently shakes his shoulder.

Felix grins as he thinks of something, "A house?"

Hyunjin burst into laughter, knowing that it isn't something that he can't afford, not now, probably not ever.

"You should ask that from Han!"

Felix also laughs and stops at the door of the car, "anything."

Hyunjin sighs because that's too broad, too general. Anything is anything but he's not sure if Felix would like it if he gifted him a piece of chewing gum.

"You give me a useless clue, Felix," Hyunjin mumbles with an annoyed eye-roll.

"I'll appreciate any gifts because that means you think of me when you choose it," Felix explains.

As expected, Felix is simple and warm, he's so pleasant to be with which makes it hard for him to find the perfect birthday gift.

Again, makes him feel like a terrible friend for not knowing what to get for him.

-

It's easier to be said than done.

Seeing you and not being able to touch you is hard. Not when he has known how you tasted and felt like, not when he's addicted to your touches and kisses.

It's been hours since the last time he saw you and he already misses you, so much that it's manifesting into physical pain.

Seeing you with Felix is... he doesn't know how to put it. Jealous? Hyunjin wants your affection and attention for him, him only.

Now he hates you for making him jealous of his friend.

But on top of all that, he wants the assurance that that night happened between you and him. It's real for him and he wants to know if it's real for you too.

It's hard to be alone with you when there are always people around him and when he's alone, you're not there. He thinks of another strategy to find alone time with you.

During soundcheck, he sees you going around the pit with your camera and taking pictures in between. He isn't sure if you looked at him but he did.

How come he misses you more after he saw you?

Letting his other bandmates leave first, Hyunjin stalled by taking small steps behind them. He knows you'll be passing this way too, you always go back to the green room a few minutes after the soundcheck finishes.

So he waits and waits, his heart starts to pitter-patter at the sight of you coming his way.

It's the perfect time to take you someplace that he knows no one will be there.

"Come with me," he says as he grabs your hand and takes you to the hidden chamber under the stage where the logistic boxes are stored.

It's dark with the only source of light coming from the tiny crack between two black curtains.

It's just the two of you now and suddenly, he loses what he's planning to ask you, to say to you.

"What?" Your voice is so low it's almost like a whisper.

"I—" he blanked out, losing his mind as he looks into your eyes, shining even under minimum light.

There's only this small space that separated him from you and he just wanted to get as close as possible to you, his feet take a step closer toward you.

"Yes?" You ask again with those eyes that keep luring him to look, deeper and deeper.

The next thing he knows, he's drowning in them. His hands hold each side of your face and slowly, he kisses you.

In no time, you melt into his arms, resting your hands on his chest as he pulls you impossibly closer to him.

You open your mouth for him, letting him invade you, getting as much taste of you. You kiss him back, softly, opposite to his hungry kisses.

With your hand on his chest, you gently push him away to stop him from kissing you.

"I need to breathe," you tell him while catching your breath.

Hyunjin is not sorry for being so needy yet he bashfully smiles at you, he buries his head in your neck to compensate for not being able to kiss your lips.

You let him have it too. You glide your hands up, putting them around his neck.

The warm breath you exhale tickles his ear but he likes it, he likes it because he can hear your faint giggles as he places fluttering kisses on your neck.

He drops his hands to your waist, wrapping them tightly around you, and pulls you even closer until your body is molded into his.

"I hate you," he playfully whispers to you.

You turn your head to look at him, "what is it now?"

"I hate you for making me miss you," he replies.

You giggle again and it's the cutest thing he ever heard. Oh! The things he wanted to do to you if he wasn't in a dark, confined space with you.

Before you can turn your head away, he captures your lips in a kiss, long and lingering, taking your breath away for the second time.

Hyunjin knows when to stop this time, he lets go of the kiss but not pulling away. He turns to playfully bite on your lower lip, tugging it between his teeth while you can only smile as he does as he pleases.

He stops biting to only start sucking on your lips, then kisses you again at the end while his hands wander by themselves, touching your clothed body and squeezing the flesh with so much passion.

It's getting dangerous now that his kisses become hungrier, harder, and deeper and his hands are slipping under your t-shirt, feeling the heat of your body under his touch.

The right decision is to stop whatever it is he's doing but when he's with you, he can't think straight. Judging from his past experiences, he always ended up taking bad decisions.

"Hyunjin," you call his name while running out of breath.

Should he be thankful that you put on a halt to this?

You smile while taking his hands from you to hold them in yours, intertwining them together and dropping them to the sides.

"We have to go," you remind him.

He pulls you close again, "No, we can stay."

A chuckle escaped your mouth and he steals a kiss on the corner of your lips.

"I'll go first," you volunteer to be the one leaving the secret rendezvous.

Hyunjin holding your hand tighter, not willing to let you go. But he knows he has to, he reminded himself that it's the best option for now.

With a soft kiss on your knuckle, he lets you go.

At the end of the concert, Hyunjin is always the last to get off the stage. He prefers to stick a little longer, waving to his fans, and takes a long, good look at them for making another memorable night together with him.

And you'll be there, at the side of the stage, cheering them for a successful show.

Everything feels different now that he knows you're no longer thinking he hates you, you wouldn't misunderstand him again.

The temptation to just let the world knows that you are his and he's yours is a little too hard to ignore. As he gets off the stage, Hyunjin has to put everything in him not to run and kiss you.

He has to be fine watching you greet someone else with that smile and not getting that pat on the back, telling him he did a good job.

Just three more stops, three more stops and he can have you, all of you.

-

LAST STOP ON THE TOUR.

Something is not right.

Hyunjin senses that something is slightly off with you. At a glance, he can tell that everything is fine just like last night, the two of you went on a secret date and he could tell that you liked it by how your smile didn't wear off for a second.

Something happened after last night. For all he knows, something could have happened this morning.

It's just that when he takes a closer look, he knows something is not right. Your smile wavers, your stay quiet, and your eyes dim, the glints you usually have in them are nowhere to be seen.

Hyunjin needs to make sure that it has nothing to do about him and you, about the relationship. Maybe you're simply having a bad day or feeling sentimental about the tour coming to an end.

It could be that but Hyunjin has to know for sure.

He sees you walking out of the green room, he has only a few minutes then it's his turn to get his make-up done. He runs out and sees you're walking in the hallway, heading somewhere with your camera.

He chases after you and takes your hand, he makes sure no one is around when he takes you inside the infirmary that he knows will always be empty.

You look a little taken aback when he turns to face you.

It becomes a habit now, seeing your face automatically sends his brain to do one thing: to kiss you.

The moment his lips make contact with yours, everything feels alright again and his weariness evaporates into thin air. You smile as he takes more of your lips with a playful kiss, brushing his lips over yours, again and again, hungrily, never enough.

He only lets go knowing that you running out of breath, he brushes the hair that curtain your face and put it to the side, holding them there.

"How are you?"

"I'm good," you answer.

That thin smile you put on your face is telling him the opposite. He holds your face like a piece of glass that could break if he holds it too hard but it would be easy for him to look into your head and see what's bothering you.

Hyunjin gently rubs your cheek with his thumb, in slow, circular motions. Softly speaking, he asks, "Are we good?"

You let out a chuckle, "of course, we're good," you confidently answer.

That sounds convincing but has not quite put him at ease yet. He pulls you close and hugs you, he buries his nose in your hair, drinking in the scent that gives him a sense of comfort.

"Are you sad that the tour is ending soon?" He carefully asks, afraid that it's not something you wanted to talk about yet.

For a moment, he doesn't get an answer. Then, you nod.

He splayed his hand on the arch of your back and kisses the top of your head, "but we'll be still together, you hear me?"

You nod again as your hands wrapped tightly around his dainty waist as if he'd fly away. But that's just what you do, keep him grounded, make him better, happier.

Hyunjin is happy to know that you feel the same about it. The tour ending means that he'll no longer be able to be with you 24/7 but he also can't wait to disclose this relationship, he's tired of hiding it, hiding you.

"Look at me!"

You tilt your head to look at him and he can see the sadness in your eyes. He doesn't want to see that, he wants to see those eyes shine like they always do.

"I love you," he lowly mutters.

For the first time, it feels so right to say it, maybe because you're the right person that he doesn't feel any pressure after saying it. If anything, he feels more confident with his feelings. He loves you.

You're not saying anything but standing on your tiptoe to kiss him, responding to his words with action. You're replying to his words with your warm lips and your sweet breath, then a smile that lingers on your face as you pull away.

"Are you not going to say it back to me?" He jokingly asks.

You quickly bury your face in his neck, shyly smiling in the crook of his shoulder.

In the front pocket of his jeans, Hyunjin's phone is vibrating between your bodies and it startles both of you.

"I swear it's my phone," he says with a sly grin.

He fishes it out and hit accept without looking, "I'll be there in a minute," he says, then hang up.

You take a step backward, know that he has to go and it's less than an hour left before showtime.

"I'll go first," he says.

"Okay."

He puts his hand on your neck and brings you close so he can kiss you, slow yet deep, you almost choke on air when he sucks on your tongue.

Teasing you more, he gently bites on your lower lip to finally let go. He's triumphantly smirking, knowing that he got you completely breathless from it.

The closer he gets to the end of the concert, the more he's enjoying himself. Hyunjin believes it's coming from the pressures slowly getting off his shoulders.

Truthfully, it's been hard for him to keep it a secret, to keep you for himself, to be alone with you and he's getting closer to being free.

For his solo performance, Hyunjin plays his rendition of Jimi Hendrix's Little Wing. It's not something that he usually plays because this particular track is slower in tempo, rhythm, and blues-inspired ballad. It's one of Jimi Hendrix's most concise and melodically focused pieces.

"Butterflies and zebras and moonbeams and fairytales..."

That's what you are to him: pretty, dreamy things that fascinated him.

"When I'm sad, she comes to me with a thousand smiles she gives to me free..."

And that's what you do to him, you brighten his days and light up his nights, fill the hours with your laughs and smiles.

Hyunjin just can't wait for you to take him flying on your little wings, riding in the wind.

Once the concert ends, Hyunjin doesn't want to be the last to come to you. Other than that, he can't stop his feelings that are coming at you at full speed.

You should be warned that there's no stopping for him.

Hyunjin walks past Felix and comes to you, he doesn't want to give himself a second to think, he just wants to do it.

With his heart pounding inside his chest, his blood rushing, and adrenaline still overflowing out of him, Hyunjin comes at you and grabs you by the waist, then kisses you. It's not quite a turn-on with him drenched in sweat but fuck it, he's been waiting for weeks to do this, he gave up more than what he could give.

Hyunjin deserves this, he deserves...

Then you push him away, hard enough to send him staggering backward.

He looks at you and sees your eyes filled with something almost like repulsion. Your hand flies to cover your mouth and then, he sees it, your eyes shifting at Felix.

Felix stares back at you with his mouth slightly hang open, then he glances at Hyunjin.

What the fuck is happening? Why did he do wrong? What it has got to do with Felix? The two of you are just friends or...

Hyunjin turns to look at you but you're already running away from him. You run without turning your head back at him as if he's the past that you want to forget.

Instead of flying with your little wings, he watches you run and run and run.

-

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[t-folklore13]

Stone cold sober - Eddie Munson

Started as a blurb and went a little longer

Eddie!Bestfriendstolovers

710 words

18+ MDNI ~

~

It wasn’t unusual for me to wake up at eddies on a Saturday morning next to him in bed. Every Friday night after a long campaign consists of a couple smoke sessions, pizza, and some movie but never have I woke up in his arms while he was shirtless

Of course I’m not an idiot my best friend is hot like insanely hot with his tattoos, long hair, and faint muscles that came from hauling around heavy band equipment of course my crush on him wont change the fact that he’s hot and he doesn’t even know it

He still thinks that girls see him as the “nerdy freak” he was labeled as but that could be the farthest from the truth whenever we are out I make it a point to seem like a couple

Wearing his jacket or holding onto his arm so girls can see its selfish but I wouldn’t survive seeing him happy with someone else another girl at that so I keep my thoughts and impulses to myself until now because he is holding me so tight and my face is crammed in his neck

Of course we’ve cuddled before during movies or when we were younger but never now we always have maintained some sort of distance the invisible line between best friends and more have never been crossed at least not that ive noticed

Im still in my thoughts unmoving when I feel him shift under me trying to stretch but can’t realizing the position we are in, it causes me to shift and he tightens his grip rubbing my back I’m thinking about how I wish this was normal and how we’d wake up he’d kiss me and go off to work but this isn’t normal and that won’t happen suddenly my thoughts are interruptted

“sweetheart you have no idea what you do to me you’re out cold and gripping onto me for dear life”

I contemplate faking waking up then he starts talking again “I love you and I love when we have these moments even if your not awake it makes me so happy knowing that you find me in your sleep, I’m sorry that I never stay I wouldn’t want you being weirded out by me”

He starts to play with my hair and gives me a couple of kisses on the head and my heart is pounding I feel him grabbing my hips and moving me when i hold onto him tight again not wanting him to leave

He softly removes me from him like it’s the most normal thing in the world and kisses me on the head “I love you sweetheart” I feel his weight start to move off the mattress and I grab his waist “no please stay” my eyes are still closed and I hear him sigh “I thought you were asleep”

“Please hold me again I love it” he gets back in bed and pulls me to him “how long have you been awake” the only thing I can hear over the silence is the fast beat of his heart I look up into his eyes and stare at him “longer than you” I trace his jawline and play with the ends of his hair “Ed’s?”

He blinks a couple times and hums “can this be normal every morning please” he smiles and brings a hand to my face “what are you asking me sweets” I snuggle my face into his neck and smile “um waking up in your arms every morning and you telling me how much you love me”

“Depends would we still be best friends after” I shake my head and riskily kiss his neck softly “no I don’t wanna be just friends anymore I wanna love you more then that” he lets out a breathy laugh and rubs my back “are you still high?” I laugh and look at him “stone cold sober actually. why are you?”

“Stone cold sober actually” I prop up onto my elbows and put a piece of hair behind his ear “can I kiss you” but looks at me then flips me over kissing me softly but deeply “will you be my girl”

“Depends will you help me make breakfast?” He smiles and grabs his shirt “yes”

[pepperonijem]

iv. 'til there was you || to.you

"There was love all around, but I never heard it singing... 'til there was you."

summary: Levi finally knows what to call this feeling that bubbles up in his chest whenever you're around and he's decided he's going to tell you. eventually. at some point. maybe. pairing: Levi Ackerman x gn!reader content: cursing songs mentioned: 'til there was you - imaginary future

A/N: ... i had to split it AGAIN. anyway, here's a chapter full of Levi. also, the song is originally from the musical The Music Man, but I really like this cover. Very coffee shop vibes. I really enjoyed writing Levi's dynamic with Hange. One of my fave chapters lol.

let me know if you'd like to be tagged! comments and rb's are appreciated :)

previous chapter || masterlist || next chapter

Levi remembered something his mother had told him once, that paranoia ran through their bloodline. He remembered that he rolled his eyes at her then, and told her that was ridiculous.

But right now, sitting beside you, he couldn’t help but feel that he was being watched. Well, he knew he was definitely being watched. The question was why.

The cafe was busier than usual, and you and Levi found yourselves in the midst of all the other notebooks and laptops and students, all frantically studying for end of term exams. Even with all the sounds of laptop keyboards clicking, espresso machine whirs, and idle chit-chat, the sound of his name from a table over had piqued his interest.

He couldn’t make out everything being said, but he could pinpoint the source of the sound. Eren Jaeger and his friend Jean were arguing. About him. He tried to keep his focus on anything else. The article he was reading on his laptop, his finger tracing over the rim of his mug of tea, you. 

He looked over to see your brows furrowed as you wrote something in your notebook. It was odd, he thought, that you wrote with your paper nearly horizontal. He looked at your own coffee cup, empty now, and made a mental note to himself to go and place an order for a refill once he’d finished his own. Something about that thought, Levi realized, felt incredibly domestic in a way that set forth a warmth in his chest that rivaled the mug in his hands. 

It was new to him, this feeling, but it wasn’t unwelcome. In fact, since writing that song and playing it for you last week, he found himself in gentle pursuit of it. 

After he rushed out of the practice room that day, Levi felt his heart pound heavily in his ribcage, like he had just run a marathon. Once he had arrived at Hange’s place, he was almost relieved that everyone else was late for band practice. 

“Hange, there’s something wrong with me,” the desperation in his voice surprised him. He found himself feeling anxious, worried Hange would take the opportunity to tease him in his obviously vulnerable state. He watched Hange with helpless eyes as they stepped away from their keyboard to sit on the couch and invited Levi to sit down. 

They looked at him, as if searching for something. After what felt like minutes, they wordlessly stood up to make him a cup of tea, and Levi was thankful even if he knew Hange had the worst taste in tea. His fingers wrapped tighter around the warm mug in his shaking hands. They sat back down and faced Levi with an expression he rarely ever saw: calm, gentle… serious. “I’m gonna need you to elaborate,” they said, leaning forward on their knees.

The intensity of Hange’s gaze almost made Levi consider making a run for it. The vulnerability made him feel too exposed. But with a sigh, he grabbed the worn leather notebook from his coat pocket and flipped with one hand to his most recent song, handing it to Hange without a word. 

They raised an eyebrow at him. He was well aware that this was the first time he had ever really let anyone look into his notebook, to see his thought process before a song was fully polished. Usually, by the time the band started practicing his songs, the chords and lyrics were all neatly typed onto a single page or two.

His notebook was messy. It was full of scribbles and crossed out words and unfinished lines. Every so often there’d be jagged remnants of a page torn out in frustration. Words were written upside down, crammed in margins, in every font Levi’s hand somehow managed. It wasn’t the clean, well-kept, no funny business that people had come to expect. That he’d come to expect from himself. 

“Jesus, Levi, have you considered writing in pencil?” Hange muttered with a small huff.

“Shut up, four eyes.” Levi shot back, without any real bite behind his words. He felt himself relax a little bit at the normalcy of Hange’s teasing. His fingers drummed against the rim of his mug as he waited for Hange to finish reading. He watched nervously and felt his heart spike every time their eyebrow quirked up or they tilted their head in thought. It was only one page, but Levi felt as if he just handed them his entire soul.

When they finally spoke, they spoke softly but not gently. “Levi, if you like them just go and fucking tell them.” 

Levi rolled his eyes. “Hange,” he hissed as he snatched his notebook back. Setting down the mug, he grabbed a pen from his pocket and scribbled their words under the last line anyway.

“I’m serious, Levi,” Hange had a smirk on their face. “This is like, the sappiest shit you’ve written. And that’s saying something.”

“Shut up,” he mumbled, feeling the tips of his ears go red.

Hange relented and paused before speaking again in a softer, gentler tone. “I know you used Erwin’s words, and some other people’s lines, but… you know what this is, don’t you?”

Levi looked down to where he’d written just now. “I do,” he sighed. “But saying it out loud…”

Makes it real, he thought. For someone who’d written so many love songs (he’s written at least 20 since he learned to play the guitar), he was admittedly nervous to feel the things he’d spent years writing about. But at the same time… it was exhilarating to finally put a feeling to the metaphors he’d created, to the melodies he’d played. 

“I get it,” Hange didn’t push for him to finish his sentence.

“I’ll say something. Just… not now,” Levi nodded.

Before Hange could respond, the door opened and in came Miche and Eren to shatter the intimate atmosphere of the room. Levi gave Hange a pleading look. He was barely ready to talk to Hange about all this, much less Miche and the brat you call your best friend. 

“Got your text boss, sorry we’re late,” Miche explained as dropped down beside Levi on the couch and Eren handed out the drinks he bought from the cafe. Levi set down the now empty mug Hange gave him in exchange for the new one Eren brought.

Hange cleared their throat before waving in the air. “It’s fine, you know I accept bribes,” they responded, going back to their usual demeanor. “Anyway, Levi wrote a new song, so that’s what we’re doing today.”

“Oh? Another love song about Erwin?” Miche asked as Levi rolled his eyes. Eren stifled a laugh.

“When have I ever–” Levi ran a hand down his face. “I used something he said to me, yeah. Sue me.” 

As the others launched into a tirade of teasing remarks about Levi and his love for their former bandmate, his thoughts drifted back to you beside him on the piano bench and how his heart raced at the intimacy of it all. He’d say something. Eventually. But maybe he can just enjoy the messy comfort of something not quite ready to be named.

He took a long sip of his tea, emptying the cup. It was starting to get cold anyway. He reached over and grabbed your mug as well before standing from his seat. As he turned around to walk towards the counter, he spotted the two idiots entranced in their own bubble – the sandy blonde was writing something down while the other seemed to be nagging at him.

He made his way towards them, and it wasn’t until his shadow cast over their table that they finally looked up, like two kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. “What are you two idiots blathering about?”

Jean’s eyes widened at Levi’s tone, but Eren straightened up, attempting to look unbothered. “Frankly, it’s none of your business,” Eren said with an air of bravado. The crack in his voice betrayed him. Jean’s gaze turned to him, interested in how deep of a grave Eren could dig for himself in this moment.

Levi raised an unimpressed eyebrow and the corners of his lip tugged upwards. “I’ve heard my name twice in ten minutes,” Levi leaned in. “I’d consider it my business.”

Eren let out an exaggerated sigh, attempting to sound bored. Levi suppressed a smirk. Levi knew him too well to be fooled into thinking Eren was unaffected by his “band captain” voice. He laughed mentally at the thought of him trying to impress Jean. This kid was a handful.

“We were just–” Jean began, attempting an explanation.

“Yeah, fine, we were talking about you,” Eren cut him off. 

Jean groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “Eren, shut up.”

Levi’s eyebrow rose higher as he folded his arms. “Yeah?”

Eren hesitated for a second, giving a quick glance to Jean, who still seemed to be pleading with him. “I was telling Jean here, that we should just ask if we could copy your psych assignment so the two of us could stop hanging out together.”

Levi was skeptical, but satisfied enough with their answer. He looked over to where you were working hard and realized his time was better spent away from the two obnoxious boys in front of him. “Tch,” he scoffed. “You know what I’m gonna answer to that right?”

With two resigned nods from them, Levi moved to step away from the table, once again focused on getting new drinks. However, he didn’t miss how Jean nudged Eren’s arm, muttering something Levi couldn’t quite catch. Whatever it was, it earned a glare from Eren and a barely stifled laugh from Jean. Levi’s name cut through the noise again, sharper this time, and he caught the quick, guilty glance they both shot in his direction.

When he sat back down beside you, he set your mug back at the corner next to your laptop. You looked at him with a warm smile before thanking him.

“You know your friends are idiots right?” Levi asked as he set his own mug down. You looked up at him with your head tilted in confusion before your lips tugged up in a smile.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “They are. But they’re not too bad.” You let out a chuckle. Levi felt his own lips quirk into a smile at the sound. 

“They were going to ask if they could copy our psych project,” Levi informed you, taking a sip of his tea. Still scalding hot, the way he preferred it.

Your eyebrow shot up and Levi watched curiously as you looked over at their table and tried and failed to bite back a laugh. The two boys looked up and waved at you. Jean even had the audacity to wink. He continued to watch you as you took a sip of your own coffee, recoiling at the heat. Levi rolled his eyes.

“Is that what they said,” you asked, amused. You finally turned back around to look at Levi with your eyes twinkling with something familiar. He recognized it as the same look Hange has when they’re coming up with a “theory.”

“Yeah,” Levi confirmed, now looking back down at his own notes. Social comparison theory wasn’t particularly interesting, but it beat having to watch Jean try to flirt with you. “I told them to fuck off.”

You laughed once again, and Levi felt something like pride, knowing it was because of him this time. “Did you really?” you asked incredulously.

He turned up to look at you and shook his head with a small smile. “In nicer terms, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

His eyes flickered back to the two boys who had gone back to whispering conspiratorially. Levi sighed to himself. Those two were exhausting, but they did make you laugh. Which, in Levi’s eyes, made them just ever so slightly barely tolerable.

After a few more hours of painstakingly reviewing various social psychology theories and mixing up names of theorists, the sun was finally beginning to set. Levi hadn’t really noticed until the lights of the cafe came on and the mix of gentle Christmas lights and the setting sun cast a warm glow across your face that made Levi’s stomach dip. The soft melody of a song Levi recognized had begun over the idle chit chat that filled the cafe.

There was love all around But I never heard it singing No, I never heard it at all 'Til there was you

He didn’t realize he was staring until you finally lifted your head from where it was resting against your closed fist and asked, “Is there something on my face?” 

Levi felt himself cough as he tried to prevent the blush from creeping onto his cheeks. “No, I just–” he cleared his throat. “I think the words on the page are starting to show up in my vision.” That, and whoever’s running the cafe playlist right now seems to be able to see into my mind, he thought.

You laughed. That’s at least twice today, Levi noted. Maybe he was funnier than he gave himself credit for. “Yeah,” you agreed. “Maybe it’s time to call it a night.” You turned away from him as you watched the sun dip, giving way to the lights that decorated the trees. 

Levi waited for you to finish putting your things away before he spoke again. “I’ll walk you home,” he offered, nodding to the door. To be honest, he couldn’t really remember the last time he willingly offered to walk someone home. He never really thought himself the type to. Even with Hange, he found it to be more of a reluctant obligation he had to the safety of those around him. But this… he just wanted to spend more time with you.

It wasn’t very late at all, but mid-November’s 5 p.m. sunsets could have had him fooled. Although it was an unusually warm day, the absence of the sun made Levi feel grateful that he brought his coat anyway, and although it wasn’t late, the streets felt quieter now. The sun had hidden away for the night and gave way to the glow of street lights and trees adorned with Christmas lights. He looked over to you, similarly dressed in your own long black coat and matching black knit scarf. He watched as you wrapped the scarf a little tighter around you and sighed in satisfaction. 

“Cold?” he asked.

You shook your head and Levi chuckled to himself as he watched your hair get ruffled by the back of your scarf. He reached out on instinct to adjust it, but tensed as you turned to look at him. You looked between him and his outstretched hand with a small smile and Levi bit back the urge to retract his hand. He adjusted your scarf, keeping his focus on the feel of the fabric. Not on the way you looked at him with twinkling eyes, or the puff of air that escaped your lips, or the way his fingertips felt electric when he finally drew them back.

Hange had told him once that the transition between autumn and winter was the prime time for suckers to fall in love. 

“That sounds stupid,” Levi remarked, but he definitely made a note of how good it would sound in a song. “Why then and not Valentine’s day?” It was the middle of September and the sun was too warm and the day was too long for it to feel like the beginning of autumn.

“Because that’s when love dies,” Hange replied matter-of-factly. Levi turned to Miche and Erwin who were both looking at something on Miche’s phone. No help there.

With a sigh, he allowed himself to indulge his friend’s train of thought as he tuned his guitar. “Okay, four-eyes,” he relented. “Tell me more. You have until I finish tuning my E string.”

He watched their eyes light up in wonder as they began to explain, but then they fell into a frown. “High or low?”

Levi chuckled to himself as he moved to the next string. “High.” Obviously, he’d hear them out for whatever they needed to say, but Hange spoke better with a time limit.

Hange lit up once again. “Okay,” they began decisively. “Autumn to winter is just the most romantic time of the year! It’s starting to get cold, so everyone has the biological urge to cuddle up with another person. On top of that, the holidays are great for nostalgia, the second greatest human weakness.”

“What’s the first?” Levi deadpanned.

“The neck,” Hange replied without skipping a beat. “Anyway, nostalgia leads to bad decisions like flings with exes or strangers. And finally, those trashy Christmas rom-coms brainwash the common fool into thinking love is magical and attainable.”

Without looking up, Erwin finally chimed in. “Don’t you cry watching Love Actually every year?”

“That’s research, dear Erwin,” Hange threw a pillow in his direction. Miche caught it, barely even looking up, and placed it on his lap to rest his phone on top. 

When Hange made no move to speak again, Levi looked up to see Hange already looking his way expectantly. “Wow,” Levi replied with mock enthusiasm. “I didn’t even get to the high E string yet.”

Hange huffed and rolled their eyes. “I can be timely,” they defended. “Anyway, makes sense right? It’s a theory I’m working on.”

“Guys, they’re theorizing again,” Levi called to the two boys on the couch who were still engrossed by the video playing on the phone. It sounded like a music video, but when he leaned to get a better look, all he saw was… dancing fruit?

“Great job, Hange,” Miche called out in a monotone. “Science does rule.”

“Just don’t burn your eyebrows off again,” Erwin added, not looking up.

“That was once!” 

Levi shook his head. “How exactly are you working on this theory?” He was sure he’d regret asking, but curiosity won the better of him.

“I’m gonna make my TA from my forensic biology class fall in love with me,” Hange shrugged. Yup. Regret. Levi rolled his eyes with a huff. “Why? You want in?”

“Wait,” Miche finally looked up. “Are you talking about the terrifying grad student who looks like he’s 50 but is only like… 35? He drives a motorcycle. He’s too cool for you.”

“I’m cool!” Hange gasped.

“You just came up with an insane theory based on Christmas rom-coms,” Erwin pointed out.

“And you cry during Love Actually,” Levi added.

“When me and my lovely TA are happily married, you’ll all eat your words!”

Hange’s TA did not, in fact, fall in love with them.

Levi’s not particularly sure why he remembered that now. He had dismissed the theory as simply another of their stupid ramblings. But now… maybe, he figured, Hange’s theory had some merit. With the chill of November and the warm yellows that graced your skin under the Christmas lights? He felt warm beside you. Comfortable, even.

The walk back to your apartment wasn’t bad at all. In fact, it was much shorter than he would have liked. it turned out you and Levi lived in buildings across from each other. Crazy how the world can feel so small sometimes. At your door, you turned and leaned against it, wrapping your arms around yourself. It had gotten colder in the time it took to walk back. There was a silence that washed between the two of you – not awkward, but still full of anticipation. Like a buzz.

“Oh right,” you spoke. “Before I forget, Armin’s organization is hosting a charity thing next weekend. If you’re free, you should definitely go.”

“A party?” Levi asked. “Or…” he trailed off, waiting for you to correct him.

“Armin said it’ll be a black tie gala,” you explained, and Levi tried to keep his face from falling into a frown. His heart sank at the idea of being surrounded by small talk and crowds all night. You must have noticed his hesitation because you scrambled to continue speaking. “I mean, it’s not– you don’t have to come, but I just– it’s– it would be a lot more fun if you swing by.”

He was sure that the blush that crept onto his cheeks matched yours and you both looked away from each other. Levi wasn’t big on parties, dances, formals, or anything of the sort. He tolerated it when he was the one playing on stage, because at least then he didn’t really have to interact or socialize. But a gala where he’s just another person in the crowd? Hange had forced him to attend enough parties for him to know he was more of a wallflower than a dancer.

But if it meant he’d see you again…

“Sure,” he shrugged in an attempt to regain his composure. “I’ll swing by.” He mimicked your words with a smile, and felt something soft spread through his chest.

“Good,” you smiled back at him, the relief was evident in your voice. The moment seemed to stretch before either of you spoke again.

“See you around?” He asked, not wanting to say goodbye, but not wanting you to stand outside to catch a cold.

“See you around.” Your gaze lingered on him for a beat longer before you finally unlocked your door. Levi watched you disappear inside with a final wave and the door clicked shut.

He stood there in front of your closed door for a moment longer, and now everything around him sounded much louder. The howl of the breeze, a car honking in the distance, the groups of people walking in the quad – but none of it was louder than the thump of his own heart against his chest. 

He wasn’t used to this. To want to find excuse after excuse to spend an extra moment or two with you, to put aside his own feelings to do so, to bite back words that he so desperately wants to say. It was so new, and he wondered what it was about you that made him not only welcome this feeling, but to chase after it so desperately. 

And as he lay in his bed, unable to sleep all night, he thought and thought about how it could be you to change his heart. Hange was right. He was definitely a sucker.

A/N: this was supposed to be the last chapter, but i just kept going back and adding details and details and my document ended up over 20k words so that's why the last chapter and this one are smaller shorter chapters. I might split up the next 10k as well, tbh.... not sure yet! just vibes lol.