#mutuals only pls <33 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

satoruxx · 11 months ago

Text

PARACOSM OF THE GODS.

PAIRING: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru x f!reader | 11.5k words

SUMMARY: ok here we go, canon au, angst, fluff, best friends being in love, stsg being whipped but unable to express it, reader is clueless as usual, timeskips, canon compliant deaths, bittersweet, longing, mutual pining, emotionally stunted teens, dad!gojo makes an appearance, hopefully that’s it i'm tired of typing

RHEYA'S NOTE: highkey lowkey stressed posting bc this has been sitting in my wips for 4 years now. i honestly didn't have to add much to it i basically just proofread. but yeah when you maladaptive daydream and create a plot where you're a character in jjk and you're also in love with gojo and geto this is what happens. a little sad to let this go but it's time !! plus i can add more parts later. but anyways pls lmk what you think, i'm super curious to know <33

i. the unknown

satoru's first impression of you is anything but kind.

his words come casually, free into the wind without care, and they aren't meant for you to hear. instead, they fall only to suguru's ears, evoking a deep chuckle and a slight shake of his head. his bangs swish a little with the movement, but satoru is too busy eyeing you over the frame of his shades to notice.

you're lucky to have not heard it, because the intent with which it was said would have probably made your brow tick with frustration. he says it without a thought, as if he hasn't the slightest bit of interest in you as hints of arrogance fill his tone.

"who's the rookie?"

satoru and suguru sit outside against the patio railings of the classroom they had chosen for the day. it overlooks the grounds of the school, where they have a clear view of who approaches the main entrance. suguru absentmindedly clicks his lighter—shoko had gone to get another pack of cigarettes.

it is from this higher point that they have a clear view of you. you're so obviously new to this, satoru thinks as he watches how you awkwardly stand in front of yaga sensei.

he already wants to label you as a side character. it's mean, he realizes—cruel even, but he can barely bring himself to care.

"yaga sensei mentioned that there'd be a new student joining us this week," suguru says, fingering the bangs hanging in front of his eyes. they roam over you with only slight interest before uttering your full name, just as his teacher had said it.

satoru repeats it with a hum. "not a big name or anything. a small-sized family of sorcerers i think." he shrugs carelessly. "but honestly i never really paid attention to all those stupid clan and jujutsu family lessons."

suguru only responds with a good-natured chuckle, tearing his eyes away from the scene to look at his friend. "no shit."

the two sit in quiet silence, watching yaga's lips move in structured, emotionless greetings as he shakes your hand. satoru is especially focused on the hunching of your shoulders and the way your eyes nervously dart around.

suguru is the first to interrupt the peace.

"maybe she's strong?"

"are you kidding?" satoru scoffs as he stands up straight, shoving his fists into his pockets. he turns his nose up slightly. "that's not the attitude of someone who's confident in their abilities."

ii. routine

"can i ask you guys a question?"

a cool breeze tickles your skin, goosebumps rising in its wake, and you suppress a shiver. the smell of the air tells you winter is fast approaching.

"you just did," satoru hums, his snowy hair splayed out against stems of green grass. suguru's chuckle reverberates deep in his chest, and you have to push back an exasperated smile.

"another one then," you press, leaning over satoru's face to force yourself into his view. his blue eyes pierce through yours over the dark-rimmed frames of his glasses, and even after seeing them so many times, they still feel as dominating as the first. he hums again, and you take that as your cue.

"what did you first think of me when we met all those months ago?"

satoru sits up quickly, and you can already feel your shoulders dropping when you catch a glimpse of the teasing smirk on his lips. he shifts so that he's directly facing you, leaning close so that the two of you are barely a palm's distance from one another.

"thought you were an annoying little rookie~" he sings and you immediately shove at his shoulder.

"'m not a rookie anymore," you huff, and satoru laughs joyously. suguru only grins, his eyes darting between the two of you happily. satoru moves himself into a proper sitting position, digging his long fingers into your bag of chips and popping one into his mouth. you swat at his hand, even though you don't mean it, because though you complain about gojo satoru all the time, you would give him the whole world if you could.

you and satoru take turns reaching into the bag. you wonder if the sound of crunching disturbs suguru. he's not asleep—he's just doing that thing where he keeps his eyes closed and escapes to his own land of tranquility. you'd like to give him as much peace as you can, so you stay quiet. satoru does too, but you think that's just because you aren't talking to him.

the quiet is nice when you're with them. sometimes silence makes you feel alone—paranoid. it feels like there is some impending doom hovering over your shoulder, and all you can do is wait for it to come. but with them it is different. you know that any danger in the quiet will be caught by the two of them. maybe that's why it's so easy to let your guard down around them. you trust that they won't let you die.

"i thought you were weak," satoru pipes up after a few minutes of silence. "you didn't seem like you were confident in your abilities, and that's a sign of weakness."

after spending so much time with satoru and suguru, the word weak has permeated almost every one of your conversations. later you learned how much more significant it was for them to label someone as strong. you chase after the word—crave it.

"and turns out that wasn't true." suguru adds with a smile, his head leaning back against the trunk of the tree. his eyes are still closed serenely and you wonder if he can feel the way you're gazing at him.

"yeah and now you act like some big hotshot," satoru grumbles, as though he doesn't want to admit to his old mistake, but you can hear his smile. it annoys you, the way his once degrading little nickname has now somewhat turned into a term of endearment. you would rather die than admit that you like hearing him say it.

"well, I'm glad that i was able to prove you both wrong."

the conversation ends there.

shoko returns a few minutes later, tossing you a can of soda and suguru a pack of cigarettes. as soon as she sits down in her spot under the tree you're forcing your head into her lap and kicking your feet onto satoru's legs. you ignore his complaints, because you know that in just a little bit he'll quiet down and his hand will rest over your ankle, fingers soft but firm. they'll occasionally drum some rhythmic tune, or draw nonsensical patterns against your skin.

shoko's fingers thread through your hair, just like they always do, and you know that in a few minutes you'll doze off in her lap, just like you always do. it's clockwork, this thing that you have with them. they make the days keep going—time doesn't stop for you.

a part of you wishes you could freeze time at that moment.

but you can't.

iii. halcyon

"hey suguru?"

"hm?"

"how come you always do your hair the same way?"

suguru glances up from his book. he's seated at your desk, and for a minute, the breeze pushes your curtains so that they block your view of him. satoru groans lightly from your left, turning on his side to snuggle deeper into your pillow, and slumber overtakes him once more. him and shoko remain quiet, faces free of worry as they dream in a land that is so unlike the real world you live in.

"what do you mean?" suguru asks in response to your question. he has an amused smile on his face as he places his book on your desk, though his thumb and pointer finger keep his page.

"well…" you suddenly feel stupid for asking, but he's looking at you so intently now. "you have such nice hair. you could style it in so many different ways."

"are you saying you don't like my hair the way it is?" he frowns.

"no no!" you scramble, shaking your head emphatically. quite the opposite actually you think he's so so attractive—how on earth did you screw this up so badly? "that's not it i just—"

he laughs, tilting his head fondly. "i'm just messing with you, hotshot."

you blanch, before crossing your arms with a huff. "asshole…"

he chuckles, before lifting a calloused hand up to finger the tie that holds his hair in a bun. he glances back at you, before a michevious smile settles on his face. he gives the tie one sharp tug, and the bun falls away. black hair drops, resting on his shoulders, and you stare at him—oddly parched. wind brushes through the open window, tickling your curtains, tickling his now open hair. you had seen his hair down before, of course. in the few seconds after a sparring session when the bun had gotten loose, or when too many strands escaped the tie and fell in front of his face (he always pushed them away with an agitated huff). but now he looks different—good, you realize. he looks good.

"how should i style it then, hotshot?"

his question shakes you out of your daze. you hum in contemplation. "i don't know."

he laughs quietly, as to not wake the other two. "didn't you just say there were so many ways to style it? enlighten me then," he teases, reaching over to grab a small scrap of paper from your desk. he slots it where his fingers are holding place, and then closes the book. he swivels in the chair to face you completely, rolling over so that he's right in front of you.

"well…" you start, biting your lip in thought. "a ponytail maybe?"

suguru bunches his hair into his fist, holding it up against his head. "and? how do i look?"

you grin, eyeing the new style with a stifled laugh. "fantastic."

he laughs again, louder this time, before dropping his hand.

"it looked good though!" you laugh and he rolls his eyes fondly.

"yeah yeah," he dismisses with a wave of his hand. he looks back at you, eyes tracing over your hair before he grins wide.

"i like yours."

you blink. "mine?"

"the way you did your hair today," he points to the half up-half down style you've thrown together. a dark blue ribbon holds the hair in place—satoru had said it matched nicely with your uniform. suguru's eyes gleam as he appraises it. "it's nice. it looks really pretty on you."

something in your chest feels like it fell off a cliff.

"oh—" you stumble, before smiling at him because that's all you can do when he makes you feel like this. "thanks suguru."

"do mine like that," he says quickly.

once again, you blink owlishly and all you can manage is a stupid "huh?"

"do my hair like that," he repeats, getting up from the chair to sit at your feet, back towards you. he crosses his legs and puts his hands in his lap, patiently waiting.

"you can't do it yourself?" you tease, scooting closer to the edge of the bed.

"i can," he replies and you can hear the easy smile in his voice. "but i want you to do it for me."

"okay then!" you laugh before gently parting sections of his hair out. and then you work in silence, putting more effort into his hair than you've ever done with your own.

iv. fragility

"lady riko does not have any relations. when she was young, her family was involved in an accident…since then, i've been her caretaker. so please let her at least spend time with her fr—"

"—so that makes you her family then."

suguru's words seem to stun kuroi, the weight of riko's situation finally making itself clear as her face crumbles.

"…yes."

you listen to the way her voice wobbles, and try to suppress the poisonous lump forming in your throat.

"then we do everything we can to make her happy," you say solemnly, leaving no room for argument. suguru seems to agree and says nothing—some deeper part of you feels something more than thankful towards him.

"you're awfully sensitive for a jujustu sorcerer, you know that?" satoru comments offhandedly. you turn to look at him, meeting his piercing gaze over dark rims.

"maybe," you concur. "is that considered weak?"

satoru seems to ponder his answer, before shrugging, a light smile on his face. "to some people, maybe."

you manage to smile back, and he takes in the expression with an odd look on his face. "say what you want, satoru. but you agree with me, don't you?"

he looks away, eyes gazing out to the distance where you know riko is currently in class with her friends, trying to live the life she wants, and something in them softens considerably.

"we'll do things the way she wants us to."

it's one sentence, said without a smile or laugh, but hearing it fall from satoru's lips makes you beam at him.

that's just your kindness, isn't it, satoru?

your heart leaps when you notice the tips of his ears tinge with rouge.

v. longing

riko's hand is warm against the coolness of your fingers. your body feels hyperaware of your surroundings, toes deep in hot sand and salty air sticking to your skin. for some odd reason, you can't seem to relax. unconsciously, you tighten your grip around the young girl's palm. she glances up at you, but when you look down at her, she's wearing the biggest smile you've ever seen.

satoru's presence makes itself known behind you—his shadow looms over yours in the sand. "it'll be fine," he says.

you can't see his face, nor can you see suguru who stands at his side, but your shoulders drop slightly, and you find yourself smiling back at riko.

"i'm getting in the water!" she squeals eagerly, before dragging a helpless kuroi with her. satoru laughs—a clear, pristine sound—and follows after her. you watch the three of them with a fond smile, something akin to content settling deep within you.

"and what are you planning on doing?" suguru asks. you turn to look at him, watching the way his heavy eyes stay focused on you.

"hmm," you quirk a brow mischievously. "build sandcastles with me?"

suguru blinks owlishly before he breaks out into a good-natured laugh.

"deal." he walks closer to the water's edge, where the sand is damper, and crouches down. he turns to look at you over his shoulder. "don't make me do all the work, hotshot."

you stand there, taking him in—really taking him in. he's just as clear as the sky behind him, and the sun shining on his face makes his smile glow. you want him to continue smiling at you like that well into the future. the waves crash onto the shore, as though the ocean is chasing his radiance, and an overwhelming feeling of unfiltered affection swells in your chest.

your feet carry you forward, and you think that they might always lead you back to him.

the sun rises as time passes, and occasionally you spare a glance at satoru and riko, who are screaming as they splash water at one another. and then you catch a glimpse of kuroi, who stands with her feet in the water, a soft smile on her face.

and in that moment, nothing can be ruined.

"what's wrong?" suguru's voice calls out, and you tear your gaze away from the others to look back at him. he stands behind you with two strawberry ice cream cones in his hands.

"nothing," you hum, a serene smile on your face. "everything's perfect."

his eyes trace your face, stopping to linger on your smile, and they soften. "it is, isn't it?"

he turns to the ocean, watching satoru and riko, and his eyes sparkle. "i hope it stays like this always."

"me too."

he bends down to take his place at your side before he hands you a cone. you take it from him. suguru's eyes drift away from you to look down at his castle.

"i think it looks great," he expresses, before taking a lick of his ice cream.

you roll your eyes with a huff. "yeah, because you made it look so nice. you're unnecessarily good at this, suguru."

he laughs, waving his hand dismissively. "no no, we did it together! and yours is nice too!"

"maybe," you grin, looking at his castle. "but yours is extra pretty."

he smiles back, before pointing at a small hole in his sand tower. "see this room? it's yours."

"mine?" you chuckle.

"yeah, all yours," he hums softly. "this is my castle and you get your own room."

"oh? and why's that?"

suguru's gaze lingers on you, and his dark eyes soften considerably. "because you'll always have a place in my home."

you stare at him, speechless—something hammers away at the inner crevices of your chest.

"and this one—" he points to another hole a few inches away from the first. "—is my room."

"well in that case, that room is mine too!" you declare.

"what?" he barks out a laugh. "how does that work?"

"well…" you grin at him, the sun burning into your cheeks. "because my home is wherever you are!"

suguru's cheeky smile fades and his eyes widen. he looks at you, mouth agape, and you're about to say something else before sticky coolness trickles down your wrist.

"ack!" you hurry to wipe away the strawberry ice cream dripping down your skin and you completely miss the red that creeps up his neck and seeps into his ears.

vi. ice bath

shoko's fingers are unbelievably soft. you're grateful that you were unconscious through most of her procedures on your battered body—you don't think you would've handled the pain too well. she's quiet as she works over the large wound that now covers almost half of your torso. the man with the scar on his lip had done quite the number on you, and you don't think you'll ever forget the searing ache of his blade slicing through your flesh. he had left you in a bloodied pile, isolated, and you hadn't seen what had happened to suguru after the man shot riko. you could only lay there, vision swimming as a bitter taste filled your mouth—a reminder of the life you failed to protect.

the pain had been the only thing you could focus on, until satoru was on his knees at your side and tightly gripping your shoulders. your hazy focus was drawn to his lips as he spewed curses and insults at you.

"why didn't you run away, you little shit," he had shouted, a feral look in his eyes. there was something different about him—a change in his very being that you could see even in the throes of death. "shoko's coming, do you hear me? for fuck's sake, keep your eyes open, hotshot!"

you swore you saw his eyes shine behind that look of uncontrolled anger. he had been talking a mile a minute and your focus had waned until you could only see his lips move, no sound reaching your ears.

you've never thought satoru looked more godly than he did at that moment.

suguru eventually found his way into your field of vision—knelt at satoru's side. his large hand had squeezed your limp fingers in a death grip. he was sweating, and his eyes were darting back and forth between your pale face and bloodied torso, something akin to guilt swimming in them. you wished that you had the strength in you to squeeze his hand in return. the last thing you remember seeing is his dark hair falling in front of his face as he turned to shout at whoever was approaching.

now you're awake. disoriented and bleary, but awake, and all you can look at is the way shoko's bangs fall over her furrowed brows. she's taken care of the bleeding, and now all that's left is a dull throbbing, reminding you of how close you had toed the line with death. you don't know this yet, but the scar will remain for the rest of your life, and that dull throbbing will be a permanent reminder of your narrow escape.

shoko hasn't said a word since she noticed your eyelids flutter open. you want to ask her so many things. important things that cannot wait:

where's satoru? how about suguru? i saw them both. satoru's alive, right? and suguru, too? the man—with the scar. where did he go? he said that satoru—riko….where is riko? and—and kuroi…i—i..couldn't save riko. when did you get here, shoko? and why am i the only one who's being taken care of by you?

you want to ask her. but she's making a very odd expression as her hands ghost over your body. you've never seen it before, this odd quirking of her lips. her teeth sink into the bottom one, and she chews and bites and nibbles like it's some kind of nervous tell.

"shoko?"

it's all you can manage to say—all you dare. your voice is dry, shaky, and sounds almost foreign to your ears. you're going to ask more, at least one of those thousand questions you had asked in your head earlier, but you don't get to because she speaks before you.

"shut up," she spits, and the wobble in her voice has you pinching your lips shut and feeling closer to death than you did before.

vii. acid rain

the sound of clapping is deafening. you don't think you've ever heard a sound so horrid in your life before, and you feel as though your ears are bleeding heavily. you can faintly make out the conversation between satoru and suguru, your ears struggling to pick out the tones of their voices.

"no…" you hear suguru say quietly. "it doesn't matter if I'm fine…"

you can feel satoru's eyes roam over your motionless body, watching the way you gaze out into the crowd impassively.

"let's get out of here, guys."

your feet carry you numbly, and you aren't aware of anything except the way riko's arm is swinging in front of you lifelessly. there are no mirrors around—no way of catching the track of tears cutting over your cheeks. the places where the salt touches burn like acid. you say nothing.

satoru's gaze feels intrusive. he doesn't need to ask you anything—he just knows. it's like your body is radiating the emotions tumbling around in your gut.

you're awfully sensitive for a jujutsu sorcerer, you know that?

"do you want to…kill them all?"

the question stuns you, and for the first time, you can shake yourself out of your daze to look at satoru directly. blood is smeared over the left side of his face, cerulean eyes dimmed, as though something had pulled the shine out of them. red seeps into the fine hairs of his restless eyebrows.

"right now, i probably wouldn't even feel anything," he continues, staring at you listlessly.

you think satoru might be feeling just as numb as you are. you don't know what happened to him yet. the last you had heard, gojo satoru had been killed by the man with the scar. he had boasted about it to you before he attempted to kill you too. but then satoru was at your side again, completely alive as he ran your battered body to shoko like a crazed man.

you'll find out later who the man with the scar on his lip was, and what kind of legacy he had left behind. but for right now, all you see is a teenager with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and you know your answer.

satoru could help the pain go away; he'd be able to make the clapping stop—maybe then your ears wouldn't bleed anymore. but you couldn't ask that of him.

"forget it. it's pointless," suguru mutters, and you're glad he's on the same page as you. not because any of these people deserve pity, but because satoru deserves a break—one less burden for him to carry.

you hear suguru say more, but you can't focus. you continue to listen to the sound of the clapping, and once again lose yourself as you stare at riko's bloodied fingertips.

"pointless, huh?" satoru mumbles in response to suguru's answer. "does there need to be a reason?"

"of course. it's important," suguru's voice doesn't carry the same pleasant tone it always does. instead, it sounds strained, and tired beyond belief. unsure. "especially as jujutsu sorcerers."

satoru doesn't respond, but you know that he's measuring the weight of his friend's words. that's how it was with the two of them. they both balance each other out—their moral compasses influenced by one another. but then you feel satoru look up from riko's body and turn to you. suguru follows suit, and before you can wonder why, it hits you: satoru had asked you both.

you suck a deep breath in, feeling unusually breathless. the flesh of your stomach tingles with a painful reminder of what might've been, and you make up your mind.

"killing them won't change anything," you say, breaking your silence. the tears on your cheeks have dried, but they leave a rigid trail in their wake—a trail that still stings. "let's just leave it at that."

viii. fever dreams

satoru lies next to you.

a few nights have passed since riko's death, and you've chosen to stay holed up in your room. you're not sure why—death has always played a big role in your life. you don't understand why it's different this time.

tonight is different as well. while you've maintained a distance from everyone since that day, save for classes and passing by people on school grounds, today you've decided to let someone in. satoru's the lucky one, mostly because he would've pestered you until you opened your door for him anyway.

it's strange though. he had knocked over and over, and when you finally opened up with a snappy jab at his annoying personality, he had brushed straight past you and laid across your bed. he hadn't said a word since then, and you've found yourself lying next to him in silence for quite a while.

his hand stretches out in the darkness and you can feel his fingertips brush over the skin of your arm. it's delicate, like he's testing his limits, but you understand. it's just to ground himself—to know that you're still here, with him. to be sure that you're still alive.

you think the scar that goes down your body bothers him a lot more than it bothers you.

"'m here," you mumble sleepily. your fingers reach up to bump against his knuckles, and you hear him inhale deeply. his voice is throaty when he replies.

"i know."

ix. doubt

satoru learns that you've never been kissed before and he teases you for it.

not in a mean way, but in a way that has your cheeks heating and your eyes avoiding his. suddenly it feels like the gap between ages 16 and 17 is huge. he's barely even a year older than you and you're in the same year, but it feels as though he knows so much more about the world than you do. you want to ask suguru if it's bad that you've never had a kiss, but you don't. suguru rarely talks these days. sometimes he'll have conversations with you but won't look in your eyes when he speaks.

"hey listen, hotshot. if you don't get a kiss by…" satoru hums, an eager smile on his face as he swings an arm around your shoulders and contemplates his words. "…let's say 27, then i'll give one to you!"

there's an odd note of glee in his voice.

"shut up, toru," you groan, heat flooding your cheeks. "quit joking around."

he laughs loudly, pulling your cheek teasingly. "aw, i'm just playing. it's not a bad thing i promise!"

your shoulders relax slightly as the snowy-haired sorcerer continues to speak.

"i just thought that you would've kissed someone by now," he shrugs. "wasn't there that one guy you went on a few dates with? the one you met when we went to yokohama?"

there's an almost sour expression on his face as he speaks, but you're too frustrated to care. "just because i went on a couple of dates with him doesn't mean i kissed him!"

a broad teasing smile appears on satoru's face. "is that so?"

"ugh, i'm only 16!" you hiss, shoving him away from you. "besides i'm saving it for someone special!"

"good," you hear suguru speak up, and you turn to look at him. his fingers are interlocked, elbows resting on his knees, and he's staring down at his hands like they hold the answers to some deep questions he has. "it is something irreplaceable after all."

x. shadow

satoru's grin is proud as he stands before the three of you, his loose shirt billowing in the summer breeze.

you stare at him, heart thumping as shoko lets out a confused gasp. "huh? what the hell was that?"

"did it automatically choose the target for your technique?" suguru asks.

"yep!" satoru stresses the word, spinning the pencil suguru had thrown as he explains. "though i am the target. i've pretty much automated what i used to have to do manually."

your head is spinning.

"now i can tell an object's danger levels based the strength of its cursed energy, its speed, mass, velocity, shape—whatever. i want to be able to discern poisons too but that's pretty hard right now." satoru's voice is even when he explains, though you can make out the hints of pride that permeate his tones. you think his voice has gotten a little deeper too. "basically this is gonna allow me to keep my limitless technique active all the time!"

"that's gonna fry your brain!" shoko interjects, shaking her hair out of her eyes.

"yeah but i can do it while i continuously generate energy on my own. that way my brain stays fresh."

you can't help but let out an amused scoff. "what brain?"

satoru chucks the eraser at you, and you laugh as it bounces off your shoulder harmlessly.

"i've been working on shortening my hand signals so i can activate red and blue simultaneously." he continues, lips twitching upward as he gives you an exaggerated glare. "after this the only things i need to work on are domain expansion and long-distance teleportation. which i should be able to do if we set up some training courses here at school."

you think if someone examined you closely, they would see the stars in your eyes when you look at satoru.

"shoko~" he calls out, grinning eagerly. "think you could get me some lab rats?"

shoko groans as satoru bounds over to pester her more emphatically. you watch him, thinking you've never seen a person quite so magnificent.

god personified into a 17-year-old body. and yet it is a body that stays so close to you—well within your reach. maybe there's nothing so godly about that at all.

"don't you get tired of getting stronger and stronger, jeez?" you complain, crossing your arms as you raise a brow at him. satoru wets his lips as he throws you a smug smile.

"don't worry hotshot, you'll catch up to me someday!" he gives you an exaggerated wink over the frames of his glasses, and you shake your head somewhat fondly.

"no way! i never want to be at your level," you huff. "i'm very comfortable living in your shadow, thank you very much!"

a strange look passes over his face, almost puzzled, but the dip in his brows melts away as he approaches you. "well—" he slings an arm over your shoulder. "if my shadow makes you happy then you're more than welcome to stay there."

you don't have time to reply. pale lashes flutter at you—a backdrop of cerulean. you think white and blue may be the prettiest combination of colors in the world.

"suguru?" satoru's voice is casual, yet the amusement has dropped from it. his arm is heavy around your shoulders. "have you lost weight? are you okay?"

you look up, seeing tired eyes behind dark stands of hair. suguru's cheekbones are prominent, and you have the sudden urge to reach out and trace your fingers over them.

his lips twitch upward weakly. "it's just the summer heat…"

his lavender eyes drift to your face as he says it, and he tilts his head as he scrutinizes your worried expression. "…i'll be fine."

xi. hellfire

you hear suguru before you see him.

his breaths come loud as he pushes the door to the morgue open, the metal clanging heavily. his eyes bore into your back, taking in your clenched fists and raised shoulders that seem to tremble.

you wonder who told suguru you'd be here. maybe nanami, who was here not long ago, and had sent you a text that merely said: the mission went badly.

or maybe it was satoru, who had been chatting with you near the entrance of campus when he saw the myriad of emotions pass over your face as you read the text. he had probably called suguru as soon as you left.

it doesn't matter—you can't bring yourself to care.

you can only think about the way haibara had smiled at you before he left that morning.

now that smile is covered by a dirty white sheet, and you can't tear your eyes away from it. the taste of blood and vomit is heavy on your tongue.

suguru says your name quietly. you can't even look at him—you're scared that you'll cry if you do.

you don't ever want to cry in front of him. or satoru—so weak in front of those who are so strong.

"he asked if i wanted to go with them and i said no because i was lazy," you hiss, teeth clenched as you spit out the words with venom. "if i had just stopped thinking about myself for a second—"

your fingers dig into the flesh of your palms—deep, deep, deeper.

you hear suguru click his tongue, and his hands wrap around yours. he yanks your fingers apart fiercely, thumbs smoothing over the bloodied indents you've made in your own skin. you tear your eyes away from the body to finally look at him.

"don't—" his breath catches as his thumbs still over your flesh, eyes going hard as he takes in the blood.

he blurs in and out of focus. his head whips up when he hears you sniffle, and his lips slant ruefully. "you—"

"i'm fine," you interrupt, blinking pointedly and taking a deep breath. "it's fine—i mean it's not fine—but i c—"

"stop." suguru grabs your shoulders, giving you an even stare. you don't know how you didn't notice it before, but he looks thinner, older. there are dark circles under his eyes—poison seeping into his skin. "you need to rest."

you stare back at him silently, but you don't feel like you agree. something about this is making you feel restless, like there is so much you need to make up for. his grip tightens, before he's wordlessly leading you to take a seat—he finds his place next to you.

"satoru took over the mission." he stares at the lifeless body on the table as he speaks. you lower your gaze.

"and nanami?" your throat feels like it's closing. suguru inhales deeply.

"he went back to the dorms."

"okay."

you try to figure out if there is any meaning in having this conversation. despite everything, weren't you expected to wake up tomorrow morning and head out on a mission once more? and when you return, you're sure that there'll be another faceless body taking haibara's place.

the cycle continues—clockwork. it scares you, just how replaceable you are.

haibara, nanami, you, another, nameless—interchangeable.

not like satoru. not like suguru. not like the strong.

you lean your head against suguru's shoulder, fingering the hem of your uniform skirt. the fabric is cool to the touch—it seems darker, heavier. heat radiates from the body next to you, and there's something about him that's making your stomach churn with nerves. "suguru?"

his voice sounds far away. "hm?"

"are you okay?"

he stiffens and you suddenly fear you've said too much—nosy, intruding, out of place. you stumble. "it's just, we haven't talked much lately."

"i'm fine," he answers, and you can hear a smile in his voice—whether it's real or fake you can't tell. "just a little tired."

you know there is truth to this. but it scares you, how this tiredness of his has lingered for months. you don't know how to tell him that.

"okay…" your voice is barely a whisper, heavy with unspoken words that you don't know how to formulate. somehow you find that silence has always been your only option.

but like usual, silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable.

haibara's smile burns behind your eyelids.

"it should be a relatively simple mission. if you're not doing anything today senpai, would you like to come with us?"

his voice tickles your ears.

"that's alright! i'll get going then! oh right, today's mission is a little farther than usual, so we'll probably be back late! what would you like me to bring back for you?"

hypoxia crushes your lungs, your blood burns. selfish selfish selfish. you've only ever cared about yourself.

suguru's arm curls around your shoulder before you even realize you're crying. his palm is warm as it smooths over your hair, and all you can worry about tainting him with your ridiculous tears.

you don't ever want to burden him—just want to quietly live in his shadow.

"i don't—" you internally cringe at the throaty rasp of your voice, swiping a hand at your nose. "i shouldn't be so sensitive about—"

"it's not your fault." he quietly hushes you, grip tightening imperceptibly. through your tears you can see him adam's apple bob, and for some reason that makes you feel worse. you're too scared to look at his expression, even though his voice is resolute. "none of this is our fault."

something has changed in the way he speaks now. something has settled, a confirmation of some idea that has been brewing for a long time now.

you don't say another word, but somehow he manages to sear himself into your very being. he's warm, and fuzzy, and he smells like sandalwood and incense.

you don't know how long suguru let's you pathetically sob into his shoulder.

but you think you're embarrassed that he has taken pity on a wounded animal's cries.

xii. split

he looks different, but also the same. you've seen him wear that sweater before. it's plain black, no patterns, and you know that there's a loose string on the inside of the left sleeve that he was always too lazy to cut. you've always liked that sweater—always liked the way he looked in it.

you liked it so much that you've even stolen it a few times yourself.

but now it looks different. older and dirtier—as though soiled by some unknown curse.

that's what everything came down to, right? curses.

suguru stands in front of you, almost no trace of emotion on his handsome face, and his expression makes you want to turn and run. you miss the calm serenity that normally graced his features, wishing that you had some kind of cursed technique that could turn back time. but you aren't blessed like that—you wonder what sin you might've committed in a past life that made you so unlucky in this one.

"you look confused," he comments. you reel at how casually he speaks to you, like it's just another afternoon sitting under that stupid tree. like he's leaning his head back against the trunk and watching you and satoru bicker with that fond look in his eye.

"suguru," you speak, an odd strain in your voice. you struggle to comprehend this odd turn of events. you've had time to understand that he's now a different person than the one you once knew. you know that he's responsible for killing 112 innocents, including his own parents. you know that he's now an enemy to jujutsu society and you know that you should kill him right at this moment.

but he looks so much like suguru, like your suguru, that you can only manage to stand there, frozen in place. his eyes drift over your body, taking in your pajamas, the bath towel in your hands, and the small drops that trickle from your hair, and you can see the familiarity settle in his expression.

"why are you here?" you choke out. you feel an overwhelming sense of danger in your gut, knowing that your family is just a few rooms over from where he stands now.

"at your family home, you mean?" he asks casually. a small, almost amused smirk appears on his face. "you said i was always welcome."

you did say that. sometime last year or the year before, when you had invited satoru, suguru, and shoko over to visit during one of your quick holidays. suguru had sat across from you at your dinner table. he complimented the food and your father smiled one of his rare smiles. you had chewed quietly to hide your grin.

you don't know what to say to him now.

"everything they said about you," you whisper, taking a step toward him. he remains rooted in place, but his eyes follow your movements. they shift when he catches your fingers gripping your towel tighter. "is it true?"

"do you think it is?" he asks, and you gulp. it feels like he's baiting you into some kind of trap.

"i don't want to believe that it is," you answer, voice shaking. "that you would ever do something so…"

the sentence hangs in the air, and he tilts his head imperceptibly. something in his eyes changes as he focuses on the drops falling over your shoulders.

"well i'm sorry to squash your hope," he raises his arms in a shrug. "but everything you heard is completely true."

your head aches, but you're not surprised by his confirmation. "why would you…?"

suguru hums, a dark look falling over his face. "do you remember the conversation we had after haibara's funeral? do you remember what i told you when he died?"

anger flares in your gut at the mention of haibara, and the bath towel crumples in your hold. "don't say his name," you hiss through gritted teeth. "don't act like he's the reason—just…don't bring him into this. please."

suguru licks his lips, eyes going soft before he tries again.

"everything used to make sense back then," he sighs. "back when the strong existed to protect the weak. but it's not true."

"suguru—"

"the reason why we suffer is because of them," he interjects evenly, though frustration is clearly evident in the curve of his brows and the volume of his voice. "we clean up their messes. they create problems and we die for it."

you're stunned into silence, at the way he's raising his voice at you, at the way he's speaking so firmly about this horrible topic, at everything. he seems to realize the effect of his speech, and he quells his anger to speak quieter. "that's why i'm doing this. i'm going to create a world without non-sorcerers, so that sorcerers like you and i can live peacefully."

a lump forms in your throat because god, he's right. he's so right. your life would be a thousand times better without curses. non-sorcerers were the reason curses existed. but the way he's going about this…

"suguru," your voice shakes, but you press on. "i get it. i really do—"

"i know you do," he interrupts. "you always have. even back then…"

he takes a step closer to you, reaching out to finger the towel in your hands. "but you don't agree with the way i'm doing it, right?"

you bite your lip, and he smiles at the sadness in your expression. "you're so easy to read, hotshot."

you ignore the way the nickname stings. "i just—how could you kill innocent people like that? your own parents, suguru."

he looks away from you, steely resolve in his eyes. "if i made exceptions for my parents, that would kinda make me a hypocrite, wouldn't it?"

you don't know what to say to that. he doesn't seem to have anything else to add either.

he looks around your old bedroom, eyes sparkling as they catch a picture of the four of you from your first year. satoru's arm is slung around shoko. the dark-haired female has her elbow resting on your shoulder, her tongue sticking out playfully. you're clinging to suguru's arm, and satoru's free hand is squishing your cheeks together. the four of you are laughing.

nobody has laughed in a while now.

you tear your gaze away from the picture frame to look at him. he's so unbelievably close, and he's gazing down at you with this foreign look in his eyes, the picture forgotten behind him.

he slips his fingers into your hair. his palm is large enough that it can brush the side of your face, and you wonder why your body doesn't flinch away from those bloodstained hands.

"it's okay," he mumbles, a faraway look in his eyes. they remain trained on your hair, but it feels like he's looking straight through you. like you're nothing more than a ghost he wants to erase. he's so close—you can count his dark lashes as they brush against his cheeks. "it's difficult. i don't expect you to understand."

his words incite a sudden flare of anger in your gut. it burns something fierce, and in that moment you hate him.

"no, i don't," you reply indignantly. he pauses, now really looking at you, and his brows quirk upward in what seems to be surprise, because—well, he's never seen you make such an expression at him before. "you never tried to help me understand. you just left."

a strained silence follows. his fingers twitch against your cheek.

"this doesn't concern you," he says finally. "i don't need you to understand my actions."

you recoil, as though he's physically hurt you, and your expression falls so hard that it almost makes him regret saying it. almost.

"if it doesn't concern me, then why are you here?" you ask again, and you see suguru's shoulders drop. "you know that i have orders to kill you. i might not be able to because you've always been stronger than me. but you know that i'll…"

go down fighting you, is what you want to say, but the words leave a nasty taste in your mouth. but suguru seems to know what you're implying because a wry smile appears on his lips. his fingers twirl a strand of your wet hair.

"i'm here to say goodbye," he says finally. another tense silence fills the space between you both, and suguru can see the way your fingers shake between the folds of your towel.

"you're a little bit late for that, aren't you?" you choke out, a strange tilt to your voice as you break eye contact with him. "you left school weeks ago, and you didn't say a word to me then."

"better late than never, right?"

the softness in his tone makes you turn to look at him again, and you desperately want to ingrain the features of his face into your head. the gentle slope of his eyes and sweetness of his smile. he almost looks like the suguru you once knew, and you suddenly have the urge to mourn his death.

his face becomes blurry, the edges becoming less pronounced, and you can see the way his expression falls.

"i didn't come all the way here to make you cry." his hand drops from your face and he takes a step back. your fingers hurry to wipe at your waterline, and you shake your head.

"'m not crying."

suguru smiles ruefully, and his eyes suddenly look devoid of life. he takes another step back—your heart plummets.

he says your name once, quietly, and it hangs in the air as you wait for him to say more.

he doesn't.

"you know that I'm not supposed to let you leave alive, right?" you mumble, fingers toying with the towel in your hand. "but i can't—i mean—"

"hm," he chuckles. "still as sensitive as ever, huh? s'okay…"

he moves toward you again and his hand gently cups the back of your neck. "i think it's your best quality. makes you better than most people in our world."

he presses his lips to your forehead tenderly, and you feel your eyes widen behind your tears.

you probably could've stopped him, because you're aware that he's now suddenly behind you, and that he's raising his hand. you can stop him, but a part of you thinks that if it's death at suguru's hands, maybe it's not such a bad way to go.

you accept your fate then and there.

you'll find out later that suguru never had the intention to kill you then. perhaps he was waiting for a more opportune time, waiting for there to be a meaning behind it. you're not sure. but when you wake up tucked in your bed cozily, you'll feel the remnants of him lingering around you.

he was warm, and fuzzy, and he smelled like sandalwood and incense.

xiii. sanctify

satoru's at your door again.

you've memorized his knock patterns. he always knocks three times, then leaves a pause, then twice more. for someone so erratic, he can be quite predictable.

"what's up, satoru?" you call out, not looking up from your busy hands. there are a couple of empty cardboard boxes open on your bed, and you've been placing things into them all morning. things that should've been put away a long time ago. you pause on one of your old test papers, and in suguru's dark, blocky handwriting you read:

YOU GOTTA STUDY MORE DUMBASS.

underneath it, satoru had scrawled:

hotshot failing class now huh? :P

and shoko had added:

both of you stfu you're failing too

you had drawn a heart next to her name.

"whatcha doin'?" a familiar voice chirps. "spring cleaning?"

satoru stands directly behind you, peering over your shoulder. you can practically feel his aura shift when he notices the items you're putting away.

"cleaning of some sort," you sigh, before turning to look over your shoulder. "i've been…putting it off."

he doesn't move—just continues to stare down at the paper in your hands. you think maybe you shouldn't have let him in. sometimes you forget that satoru might have his own sensitivities—you've always viewed him as the strongest.

a few strands of his hair tickle your cheek, and you scrunch your nose in response. he then turns to you, eyes blinding as he studies you over the frames of his shades.

"want help?"

"please." you don't intend to sound so needy, but the way you whisper the word has him immediately grabbing your wrist and sitting you down next to him on the bed.

"how are we sorting this stuff?" he asks, his voice oddly calm. he hasn't let go of your arm yet, and some quiet part of you is grateful.

"i was putting our old school stuff in that box. books, papers…" you answer softly, and satoru nods in understanding. "and in the other box…"

you inhale deeply through your nose. satoru waits, strangely patient. you're not sure if you're imagining it, but you think he squeezes your wrist.

"…are all of suguru's things."

there's a moment of silence—a quick mourning for what is no longer there.

"it's stupid stuff that he left behind, you know?" you chuckle, even though nothing is funny. "some old shirts from when you two would sleep over, his old textbooks, a few pictures from our holidays—shit like that."

satoru hums. he's not looking at you—instead he's staring at the box, a frown on his face.

"i guess he didn't really need those things for where he was going. or for wherever he is now," you mumble.

"guess not."

you're not sure what's going through his head. satoru's reaction to suguru leaving had been chaotic at best. it was so hard to tell how he felt about it. you knew he was angry, confused, betrayed. but he never showed things like that. you think it might have to do with being the strongest. you're not sure though—you never were strong like him.

you wish there was a way to tell him that he could share his feelings with you, but you can't think of a way that won't be awkward.

a ticklish sensation crawls up your wrist and you look down to watch satoru's first two fingers tap against the inside of your palm. his thumb brushes against yours as he lets out a heavy exhale.

"let's get started then, hotshot."

he looks down at you as he says the words, and you think you might cry. but you want to be strong, like him, so you offer him a smile. he gives you one in return. you realize there isn't that much warmth in it, not like it used to have—you're sure that yours isn't that warm either.

but it's enough for the two of you.

"you look tired, toru," you chuckle wryly, reaching up to brush a few strands of hair from his face. his eyes flutter at the touch, and you honestly think this might be the most vulnerable you've ever seen him.

"so do you."

"i am," you admit honestly.

"'s okay," he mumbles. his fingers tap against your palm once more. "'m here."

"i know," you answer. you always are.

nothing more is said as satoru stands up. he makes his way over to your desk and pulls one of suguru's old sweaters from your chair. you watch him fold it neatly, smoothing out the creases with care, before placing it into the box—you smile once more.

you think the scent of sandalwood tickles your nose, but it's gone in an instant.

both of you work in relative silence, sorting through the things in your room quickly. you're surprised at how bare it looks as you're nearing the end, as though there's nothing more to your life than old high school recollections.

you finish putting the last few polaroids into the box when satoru speaks up.

"hey."

you look up and find him staring at you, so you turn to face him completely, giving him your full attention.

"zenin toji—" the name sends a painful tingle up your body. "—left something behind."

you frown. "what are you talking about?"

"a kid. he's got a kid. and i was gonna go meet him today," satoru shrugs. you try to read his emotions, but as usual, he's giving you nothing. "the old man said something about the zenin clan buying up his kid before i killed him. i was gonna go see if there's something i could do about that."

you sigh before raising a brow, an amused lilt to your voice. "and why have you kept this a secret?"

satoru's trademark smirk appears, and he walks over to sling an arm around your shoulders. "who knows?" he quips nonchalantly. "guess i was waiting until we were bored. we need something to do now, don't we?"

you glance at the packed boxes on your bed, and then look around your empty room. everything is always changing, but satoru is constant.

"i guess so," you grin. his eyes shine, and for a second you see a familiar teenager at the beach, and then a familiar teenager under an old tree. you think you hear waves, and the crinkling of a bag of chips.

"good," he chirps, walking you to the door, the arm around your shoulder secure. "his name's megumi, and we're gonna make sure he gets strong."

xiv. idyll

it takes you a little over four months to get used to megumi's eyes. they aren't unsettling or invading, like a certain snowy haired sorcerer, but they do give you chills when you first notice them. chills and a fleeting feeling of metal slicing up and down through your flesh. you just have to steady your breathing and remind yourself that the son is not the father.

tsumiki is an angel. you didn't think that kids that age could be so emotionally competent, but she's a pleasant surprise. she had been awfully protective over megumi, fidgeting with a firm hand on his shoulder as you and satoru invaded their space and upturned their lives. even after they had settled into the humble apartment satoru had purchased, tsumiki was still so overly cautious. it was obvious she still didn't trust either of you, but you thought it was admirable of her, and you relay this thought to satoru one day.

"think they hate us?" he asks, squishing his cheeks between his lithe fingers as he eyes the different milk cartons over the rims of his glasses.

"i'm pretty sure they just don't trust us that much," you reply, placing a few packs of instant ramen into the cart. "can you blame them? we're just random strangers who came up and basically kidnapped them."

"i'd like to say adopted!" he points out with a grin, before he sighs. "but we've already proved we're just doing this to help them. but they still barely talk at all."

"they're just being careful. megumi's still a little young and he looks like he doesn't give a shit about most stuff anyway," you chuckle as you remember the expression on the first grader's face as he spoke to your cocky friend. "and tsumiki's being cautious for both of them."

"she doesn't need to be cautious of us!" satoru dramatically whines, pulling out a carton of whole milk and placing it into the cart. you shiver as the cold air hits your skin, eyeing the sorcerer with an exasperated smile. he shuts the door with a huff. "i've been such a good dad!"

you roll your eyes, shoving his arm as he starts pushing the cart down the aisle. "she definitely should be cautious of you, you creep."

satoru looks down over his shoulder, appalled, though his eyes sparkle with mirth. "and why do you say that?"

"have you seen yourself? crazy 19 year old man that kidnaps kids," you mutter somewhat sarcastically, falling into step with him like it's normal. satoru grins at that—amused.

"i think it's pretty cool of her to be that responsible though," you continue, voice going softer as you think about them, and satoru hums in what you think might be agreement. you suddenly grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks and he turns to look at you.

"you think we should get another carton of milk?" you question, tilting your head at him. "megumi's been drinking it every day after he comes back from school and tsumiki said she wanted to try making milkshakes."

satoru blinks at you, eyes widening before an amused chuckle escapes his lips. you're about to ask what is so funny but he gestures back down the aisle. "go get some."

he waits for you as you go grab another carton, leaning against the cart easily. when you make it back and place the extra milk in the cart, satoru slings an arm around your shoulders. you raise a brow, but he just continues to push the cart with his free hand and says nothing.

so you don't say anything either.

the two of you continue shopping, trying to remember the things you've noticed the kids enjoying because you know they'll be too uncomfortable to outrightly request them. for every sweet snack satoru puts into the cart, you add something that can pass as somewhat healthy, and he hides a teasing grin behind his fist each time.

when you're almost done, satoru motions to the shelves of snacks, raising a brow at you. "what do you need, hotshot?"

you look up from where you're analyzing the contents of the cart. "hm? oh i don't wanna buy anything for myself. i'm good with the stuff i have back at the dorm."

"great," he shrugs with a subtle shake of his head. "except you're not buying anything this time, i am. so pick something."

"what?" you frown, walking over to him. "we're supposed to split groceries for the kids."

"we can split next time." satoru rolls his eyes at you, as though annoyed by your insistence. "i just got paid yesterday and i wanna waste money. pick something."

you groan. "but there really isn't anything i want. if you're gonna pay yourself then let's just go. i think this is good enough."

satoru looks unamused, his eyes boring into yours—bright, dominating, mesmerizing. "oh really? nothing you want?"

you stare at him in confusion as he walks over to the frozen section and opens the door. after a few seconds of rummaging, he pulls out a box. "not even this?"

your shoulders drop. he's holding a tub of strawberry ice cream.

he casually places it into the cart, eyes trained on your expression as he bends down. "it's your favorite, isn't it?"

your voice comes out throaty, and you wet your lips nervously—his eyes follow the movement at lightning speed. "how'd you know?"

satoru scoffs out a haughty chuckle, reaching up to knock a knuckle at your forehead—it's cold. "i know everything about you, hotshot."

he moves to grip at the cart's handle, standing close enough that you can feel the energy radiating off of him. the side of his hand touches yours, still cold. "now we can go."

he sticks by your side, pushing the cart towards the counters as he casually looks around the store. you briefly realize that his shadow doesn't cover you when you're at his side like this. the thought both scares you and pleases you in a way you didn't think was possible.

"thanks toru," you mumble before you can stop yourself. his gives you a sidelong glance—assessing.

his lips twitch. "it's just ice cream."

"no, it's a lot more than that." you're not really sure why you say it so tragically, and satoru inhales sharply. you notice that his knuckles have turned white as he grips the cart's handles. once again, his eyes dart rapidly over your face—between your eyes and then further down.

then he lets out a hushed laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "as long as you share with me, hotshot."

everything is always changing, but satoru is constant.

you can't help but smile. "always."

you two don't say much as you head to the counter, taking turns placing all the items on the belt. you quietly watch satoru dig into his wallet, feeling oddly content doing so. you think the stars in your eyes will never disappear.

the clerk eyes you both, and suppresses a fond grin. with your close proximity, shared cart, and satoru's easy going smile, you realize that she's probably misunderstanding, but you don't really know how to correct her. satoru says nothing—he just continues smiling, oddly pleased.

he smiles all the way to the car. you catch yourself doing the same in the rear view mirror.

xv. retribution

the first thing you notice when you kneel in front of suguru is that he's bleeding all over the place. you have the strongest urge to scramble and grip his fingers tightly, just as he had done for you so many years ago—but you don't dare. you're too scared that touching him will ruin you completely.

he says your name quietly, and yet it's the loudest thing in the universe to you—crashing over your ears until you've lost all sense of self.

and then he leans forward, his gaze heavy, and his hand comes up to tangle in your hair. his palm rests on the side of your face just like it did when he visited you at your family home. the last time you saw your geto suguru.

except this time he moves further—crosses a line. presses his lips to yours.

he tastes like blood. you don't pull away.

the feeling of his lips shocks you though, and you stay permanently frozen in place as you feel your eyes glaze over with something you can't put into words.

suguru kisses you slowly, deeply, like he's been waiting but wants to savor it. maybe you've been waiting too. you're not sure. you're so confused.

you don't even process the way his tongue slips past your lips, tasting almost eagerly like your mouth is some kind of conquest he's trying to claim.

it's intrusive, but not unwelcome. slow, but not gentle.

you whimper quietly, feeling acid sting down your cheek as he pulls away and his eyes flutter open. he takes in your expression, and a million emotions pass over his face.

a quiet chuckle. "that bad, huh?"

you shake yourself out of it and try to push away the flush creeping up your neck. "w-what?"

"you're crying," he announces, his furrowed eyebrows paired with a sweet smile that makes him look so unbelievably tragic. "the kiss was that bad?"

your face burns, and you raise a shaking hand up to your cheek—it's wet.

"it wasn't—i didn't—" you struggle. "i mean—"

he smiles ruefully. "i'm sorry. you were saving it for someone special, right?"

there's a charged silence that follows as you scour your brain for the conversation he's referencing. when you find it, your heart sinks.

"you've always been special to me, suguru." your voice comes out quiet, but he hears it all the same. his eyes widen fractionally and you can see a light pink dust his cheeks before he laughs. it's soft, hushed, and looks like it's painful, but he lets it run its course.

it reminds you of a laugh from so long ago, at a beach, with childish screams echoing against the sound of waves. you think you can feel strawberry ice cream dripping down your wrist.

his laughs die down and he's left smiling softly at you. his lavender eyes sparkle with mirth as he tilts his head. "i'm glad. that you were the one i gave a room to."

you can hear waves in your ears, crashing crashing drowning. sand is in your hands, in between your toes, in your eyes.

he coughs, and his palm shakes against your cheek. you wonder why he doesn't just let go already dammit suguru.

you inhale sharply, trying so hard to breathe because what is that stupid thing that's clogging your throat and preventing you from speaking? there's so much you have to say to him. so many questions. so many things left unsaid. your words are failing you.

but silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable, right?

you raise a shaky hand to press against his where it lays against your neck. "do you regret it?"

he licks his lips, smiling faintly, as though he's enjoying the new taste of you on them. "no."

"why not?" you whisper. your body unconsciously shuffles closer to him, chasing his warmth because gods is he warm. he's always been so warm, even now, in the throes of death.

"my feelings are still the same. i still hate the monkeys for everything they've done, all the crap they cause." he shuts his eyes, smiling that serene smile. you wish he was leaning against a tree trunk. "i still have no resentment to those at jujutsu tech. and you, i still…"

he doesn't continue. you don't think you want him to. there's a flush crawling up his neck, the faint pink a stark contrast to the red of blood. it makes you nauseous.

another deep inhale, and his thumb slides over your jawbone, before brushing under your bottom lip. he stares at the flesh heavily, letting his finger press into it. his tongue swipes over his own lips, eyes darkening further.

and then something shifts in his face, and he smiles mirthlessly. his hand drops from your face—broken contact.

he doesn't tear his gaze away from you, committing your face to memory. it's almost like he wants to say something, but decides against it at the last minute as he slumps further into the wall behind him and shuts his eyes.

when he speaks again, you know that it is all over.

"you're late, satoru."

3K notes · View notes

hannieehaee · 4 months ago

Note

can you pls do a ot13 reaction where they both have a crush on each other (y/n and member) so there’s kind of a tension between them ? ^^ thank you so much!!

having a mutual crush on each other

content: implied friendship, mutual crush, some embarrassment lol, etc.

wc: 796

a/n: hope u like it<33 love writing them with a crush its so cute</3

masterlist

seungcheol -

very bashful any time you're alone together. finds it impossible to look into your eyes without shyness overtaking him after finding out his crush was mutual. sometimes he'd have the courage to flirt with you, but he'd usually start blushing when you flirted back. the image of the two of you interacting would be sickening for the members to see as the two of you avoided eye contact and made pathetic attempts at hitting on the other.

jeonghan -

fully aware of your crush and just having fun with the whole 'will they wont they' of it all. will blatantly flirt with you at times or act overly soft at other times in order to make you as aware of his crush as possible. however! he would wait for you to take the first step, simply enjoying being chased after rather than doing the chasing itself.

joshua -

constant suggestive stares and comments that leave you blushy and breathless, making you shy away from even holding eye contact. he gets such a thrill from knowing you like him just as much as he does you, so he always creates this tension that has you looking forward to the next time you interact.

jun -

a little on the shyer side but still makes his crush clear with subtle affections. there's always this very sweet and subtle back and forth between you. not super outwardly spoken but still clear about his intentions through his loaded stares and shy touches of your hand. everyone around is aware and finds your interactions adorable.

soonyoung -

too shy to ever make a move so the only tension between you is him constantly running away from you whenever any sort of allusion towards your or his crush is brought up. cannot physically be in the room any time the two of you are alone because he has no control over his blush or the emptiness of his brain any time he sees himself having to interact with you one on one.

wonwoo -

contrary to popular belief, i think he'd be soooo flirty and engage in back and forth with you any time you interacted. upon realizing his crush was mutual, he'd always be seeking you out, flirting, bantering, and just always making conversation with you to keep himself as a constant presence in your life. sometimes intimate one on one's would even come up between you.

jihoon -

oh god so shy and kept to himself. even though he knows you like him back, he's still unsure on how to proceed, creating an awkward tension whenever he had to take the reigns in the conversation. would depend on you (or maybe the other members) to keep things going or else he'd malfunction.

seokmin -

he'd act just like a friend but in a very charming way, always opening doors for you, holding your hand, giving you friendly affection but with an edge of romance hidden in there. would be so easy for you two to fall into a 'when will they' situation bc everyone knows you're into each other and feeding into it way more than friends would.

mingyu -

constant tension between the two of you lmao. he'd be flirting with you nonstop, feeding into any reaction he got out of you. if you were shy and bashful, he'd flirt even more to get you blushing even more. if you flirted back, he'd match your energy and keep hitting on you until the two of you landed in an even more

minghao -

confident and a little cocky about his crush, always giving you these suggestive looks and soft touches to ensure you're very aware of his feelings for you. lives off your reactions and reciprocations to his affections, creating an intense aura whenever you two were near each other.

seungkwan -

despite his outgoing personality, he's still a little on the shyer side when it comes to expressing his interest in you. will sometimes get a surge of extra confidence and flirt with you, catching you off guard and feeding into a cocky side of himself that only ever came out when he noticed his effect on you.

vernon -

very chill and subtle about his interest but still making it quite obvious. knowing you like him back, he'd occasionally make very direct mentions of his feelings for you, loving how blunt he could be about it as you occasionally responded in a similar manner. would probably wait a while to ask you out officially, enjoying the subtle back and forth.

chan -

even though im a sub!chan and shy!chan enthusiast, i think he'd hit it off with someone he liked very easily. would be easygoing and smooth in showing his interest. would shamelessly flirt with you and always have the perfect response when you'd flirt back.

#seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen #seventeen oneshot #svt #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #svt reactions #seventeen reaction

716 notes · View notes

alphabetboyluvr · 1 year ago

Text

HUSH | MYG - ONE

pairing: rockstar!yoongi x female reader | mutual disdain - lovers (but also strangers - lovers? kinda?)

premise: in which you work for your brothers band by day and accidentally anonymously sext his bandmate on the regular by night! whoops !!

wc: 17.5k

for more details, pls see the master list (x)

hush is written in two formats: messaging transcripts and my regular writing style

warnings: we're sexting, straight off the bat!! love that for our hush couple!! allusions to sending nudes, mentions of blueballing lmao, sex toys, general masturbation malarky, mentions of ass play <33, they video call during finales (back camera only!!!), yoongi has a massive cock, like im talking humongous, so BIG (and factually accurate!!) they're switchy aka he tries dom and she's too much of a brat that he folds, he is whiney and needy and obsessed, and she enjoys that! you get to fill in the gaps as if you're really sexting him, lucky you <33 there's also exactly (1) near foot job, a needy jk, (1) banana milk mention, a playfight, miscommunication, a mysterious night that will never be mentioned in conversation. oh yeah and yoongi and you don't realise you're sexting one another ! oops!!!! yoongi is uncircumcised cause ik some people care about that?? just my preference when writing, imagine what u like! no *actual* smut in this one... just... much sexting!

before you read: please read these for a little context on the story - the app (x) and the band (x)

minors dni!!!

New Hush Crush in your Secret Circle! D4m0cl3s

10:43PM

D4m0cl3s: hey, stranger

Cl3m3ntin3: well hello there how are you??

D4m0cl3s: i'm all good. yourself?

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah, yeah, im all good just tryna figure out this damn app, lmao

D4m0cl3s: you new around these parts?

Cl3m3ntin3: i am indeed you've taken my secret circle virginity lucky you x

D4m0cl3s: oh shit well, i am honoured i can be your guide to all things hush x

Cl3m3ntin3: oh, i seeeeee an expert, are we? ;)

D4m0cl3s: just realised how tragic it is to be a self-proclaimed dating app expert, so... no not an expert just.... well versed?

Cl3m3ntin3: hahaha sureeee so, tell me, mr hush expert, how do these conversations usually go

D4m0cl3s: okay, 1: not an expert and 2: just general chit chat get an idea of what you're both looking for stuff like that

Cl3m3ntin3: 1: keep telling yourself that, babe and 2: what are you looking for?

D4m0cl3s: 1: calling me babe, already? score. 2: a girl who calls me babe.

Cl3m3ntin3: looks like my work here is done, then ;) seeeeeeya x

D4m0cl3s: no don't go stay i think we'll get along tell me what you're looking for

Cl3m3ntin3: a man who begs for my attention so looks like your work here is done, too ;)

D4m0cl3s: well, aren't we just a match made in heaven?

Cl3m3ntin3: hell* definitely a match made in hell

D4m0cl3s: you a sinner?

Cl3m3ntin3: would you like me to be?

D4m0cl3s: tempting... but no

Cl3m3ntin3: shame maybe we are after different things after all

D4m0cl3s: woaaah, i never said that i was just trying to be a gentleman take things slow be respectful

Cl3m3ntin3: it's anonymous, babe i didn't sign up for hush looking to be wined and dined or to be treated like a lady quite the opposite, actually so you don't need to worry about tarnishing your reputation, or whatever your secrets are safe with me ;)

D4m0cl3s: 1. i couldn't give a shit about my reputation and 2. it's just that people are on this app for different reasons don't wanna assume everyone is after the same thing

Cl3m3ntin3: 1. untouchable, are you? and 2. well, im pretty sure you know what i'm here for and if it's not abundantly obvious: nothing serious. it's late, and i'm bored. what's a girl to do in those kinds of situations? play all alone? boringgg. my cards are on the table, damocles you're up.

D4m0cl3s: untouchable...something like that and fine if you really wanna know i'm not looking for a girl to take home to my mother

Cl3m3ntin3: good mothers don't tend to like me all that much

D4m0cl3s: no?

Cl3m3ntin3: nah fathers on the other hand? fucking love me

D4m0cl3s: and you wonder why the mothers hate you?

Cl3m3ntin3: oh, no im fully aware it's because im the only thing that can get their husbands' perpetually flaccid cocks hard :)

D4m0cl3s: jesus christ you really are built for sin, aren't you?

Cl3m3ntin3: uh-huh :) fancy a dance with the devil?

D4m0cl3s: not tonight but you've got me interested

Cl3m3ntin3: </3 can't believe you're blue balling me

D4m0cl3s: trust me im blue balling myself i've got an early schedule in the morning can't stay up all night entertaining some girl on a fucking app ;)

Cl3m3ntin3: okay 1: ouch, if anyone was doing the entertaining, it would be me and 2: prove it

D4m0cl3s: prove it?

Cl3m3ntin3: uh-huh prove that you're blue balling yourself

D4m0cl3s: again, jesus christ you are something else

Cl3m3ntin3: thank you :D now... proof

D4m0cl3s: say please

Cl3m3ntin3: you want me to get down on my knees, too?

D4m0cl3s: would be appreciated

Cl3m3ntin3: fine

D4m0cl3s: watch your attitude, clementine

Cl3m3ntin3: sighhh hate you for this already >:( pretty please could you show me your cock so i know you're hard and not just lying <;33

D4m0cl3s: see, that wasn't so hard, was it? good girl

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

Cl3m3ntin3: holy shit

D4m0cl3s: i might keep secrets, but i never lie let's talk tomorrow, alright?

Cl3m3ntin3: noted and tomorrow for sure sweet dreams, damocles x

D4m0cl3s: night night, clementine x

[3 Months Later] KSPO DOME Seoul, South Korea

♪ // Hush - The Marías

"You'll choke if you're not careful – and how many times do I need to tell you? Put that damn phone away!"

If Park Jimin wasn't so warm in his tone with you—effervescent in his kindness, bubbling over like lightly shaken soda—you'd tell him to kiss your ass.

He stands in the doorway, a pretty smile on his plump lips. There's something about him—his eyes, you think—that subvert all his softness. Makes him quite the menace. If you hadn't been there to witness his high-school bowl cut era, you never would believed it had happened. He's too cool. It transcends his current being. Is effortless.

In all black, a pair of Chelsea boots soundtrack his arrival no matter where he is. A little scuffed, he's in need of a new pair—but they'll be a post-show bonus treat. From Jimin, to Jimin. Congratulations on a job well done.

With a subtle roll of your eyes, you swallow down the blueberry you'd been holding between your teeth in a dingy backroom of Seoul's KSPO Dome—the venue of choice for The Scouts' final hometown show. The brickwork remains exposed, grey concrete blocks a dull backdrop for the catering tables.

"Sorry mum," you banter, even though you really shouldn't. There's a glint to your eyes beneath the awkward spotlighting that really isn't preferable for the buffet-style display behind you. Fruits, snacks, it's not a bad spread—but it's got nothing on the rider you know The Scouts ask for ahead of every show.

But why shouldn't they? What the boys want, the boys get – and they've worked damn hard to get it.

He nods towards the lanyard around your neck and reminds you of this, then holds up his.

Park Jimin, it reads. Senior Tour Manager.

"Not on the clock, trouble. I'm still your boss."

"And don't I know it," you offer him a smile, still not a huge fan of the dynamic the pair of you portray at work.

You've known Jimin since the tooth fairy was leaving coins under his pillow. It's sorta hard to take him seriously when you've experienced as much life together as you have.

The way he groans when you reach for yet another blueberry is testament to the friendship you share; the kind of found siblings written about in books but rarely found in reality. There's a sanctity there. He's got your back, and he knows you'll always pick up the slack when he needs you to.

For all your difficulties in the short-term, he knows you pull it out of the bag come the time results are needed.

Knocking the blueberry into your mouth with a grin, you use your tongue to toss it to your back teeth. It's a teeny tiny little fruit. You're pretty sure you could swallow it whole without repercussion.

In fact, the reason you were so engrossed in your phone is because you were about to start a discussion with a... friend about something else you could swallow, instead – but you won't tell Jimin that. He'd throw up, probably, and then it'd be your job to clean it up.

"Yeah, yeah," you nod, locking your phone and tucking it into your back pocket. "Sorry boss. Where do you need me?"

He narrows his eyes at your sarcastic use of formalities, but knows when to pick his battles with you. Instead, he knocks his head to the side and heads for the doorway, indicating for you to follow suit.

Just like he knows when to pick his battles with you, you also know when to pick yours with him.

"You've a job that people would likely kill for," he ribs, not really minding all that much. It's downtime between the off-stage rush, so there really isn't all that much to be doing—but you could at least pretend to make it look like you're working your ass off. "But you're too busy on your bloody phone. Head to hair and make-up. The next VCR segment is smaller so I need you in position pronto."

"Sure, sure," you nod like a bobbing head figurine, stealing a handful of blueberries from the catering table and heading on your way.

Jimin watches on with a curious sense of bewilderment. You're the best runner they have, by quite some margin, but also seemingly the one that's least eager to please—and by doing so, they seem to like you even more. It's an odd paradox, but it is one that you use to your advantage. Play a little dumb; wow them all when you continually and quite impressively exceed their expectations. Work smarter, not harder.

It's a work ethic that runs in the family. They shouldn't be surprised by it, not really.

The corridor you head down is flanked by sterile white lights. The only thing that's brighter are the faux smiles of entertainment execs and slimy media men, who are all after their fifteen minutes of favour—because it's not fame they'll get by rubbing shoulders with the boys on stage; it's a boost up. Something to talk big about in board room meetings.

A humble brag; a subtle flex, that is neither humble nor subtle.

Your lanyard taps against the buckle of your belt as you jog towards the stage. A cute little pat-pat-pat and jingle of keys from your beltloop soundtracks it, which you're thankful for. It covers the heavy breathing.

Just shy of the staircase leading up to the platform, which is almost shaking from the exertion of the performers on it, you hanger left into the room beside the dressing room.

While the dressing room is a dingy, theatrical maximalist's dream, the make-up department has a shell for a room. Bright white lights are overhead, to make sure the boys look amazing—which they always do regardless. Personally, you think this is all overkill. Takes away some of the authenticity. People swoon for The Scouts and the fact they're walking, talking hot messes. When the 'mess' is carefully applied with tiny brushes and kept in place with setting spray, it just doesn't hit the same.

Still, the fans are none the wiser, so who cares? Let them think Jeon Jungkook has flawless skin after an all-night bender.

Annoyingly, he normally does – but that's beyond the point.

"Here she is," Jinyu grins as you walk through the door with a little huff, immediately picking up a setlist by the door to fan your face.

Ethereal as usual, hair pulled back with a claw clip and a grown-out fringe framing her delicate features, Jinyu's mask pulled down to rest beneath her chin. A make-up brush is tucked behind her ear and half a dozen hair grips are biting onto the sleeve of her shirt, ready for the rush that will come with the next VCR break.

At least one of you is, you think.

She always is, though. Best of the bunch, she's the senior make-up artist, and has an example to lead by.

The rest of the make-up artists sit together in the far corner, nattering amongst themselves with far more animation than their hushed tones should really allow for. It's not an uncommon occurrence.

They like to pretend that they don't want anyone to know their business, but you've heard it all.

You could share, in quite some detail, how Jungkook likes to look at his regular make-up artist's lips whenever she's applying balm to his.

Apparently, the tension is 'off the charts', but he's 'too shy to do anything'. Always asks for balm, even when he doesn't need it. Or so she says.

You roll your eyes whenever you hear her brag about it, 'cause you've also heard the conversations that the boys have had behind closed doors. You know that if Jungkook is gonna be after any of the make-up artists, it's Jinyu—but the ring on her fourth finger and the toddler she sometimes brings to work on the quiet days is enough for him to stay away.

The lifestyles lived by The Scouts wouldn't allow for any of them to be playing 'Daddy'—though the girls who've squeezed into their tour bus bunks would probably beg to differ.

It's not just Jungkook who they like to gossip about—although he is the current flavour of the month, ever since he got that bloody lip ring.

In all honesty, you've heard so much shite about all five members that it's a miracle the girls still have jobs.

A new addition to the team since the overwhelming success of the last album run, the record label are keen on The Scouts keeping up their appearances. Gone are the days of sleeping in eyeliner and waking up with panda eyes—now it's carefully placed with precision beneath their tired lashlines, bloodshot eyes still bleary from the night before.

According to the last make-up room rumour mill, Tae is the type to send a late-night text to a handful of girls at once, just to see who bites (of which they all do, of course), and Yoongi is the type to sit silently in the make-up chair, only to make some absurdly unhinged comment as he leaves for the stage.

It's what they're talking about as you and Jinyu exchange glances with comically raised brows and wide eyes.

"Like, the whole time, he must have just been sat there, thinking about it," one of them swoons. "Didn't say a single word, and then just said 'your perfume smells nice, today,' as he was leaving."

The way they giggle makes your skin crawl. It's like they're constantly trying to one-up one another, using the men they work for as tools to do so – and you can't really blame them. As much as you may hate it, it's a man's world, especially in this industry. If you've gotta climb a few greasy poles to reach the top, then more power to those who choose to do so.

"He definitely spent the whole time thinking about it."

"What perfume are you wearing? I wouldn't mind him saying that to me..."

"God, he's such a dream boat."

"Something about him lately is just... ugh, off the charts. We need to stop styling his hair like that. It's too good."

You don't mean to be so judgemental – you've got a pair of eyes. Know exactly why they insist on giggling about their delusions.

Thing is, you can deal with the Jungkook gossip. Tae, Yoongi, Namjoon – whatever.

It's when they start talking about Jin and fail to hide the fact they're doing so that you're reminded of exactly why it grinds your gears so much.

In fact, quite frankly, you've a desire to pick up one of Jinyu's rattail combs and shove it into your ear. Would hope it'd impale your brain. You're not really sure how deep you'd have to go, but it would beat hearing them fawn over your older brother.

You've heard things being said about his hands that no younger sister should ever have to. Quite repulsive, actually.

Instead, you grimace, trying to gain back your breath following your sprint (of which Jimin would call a leisurely pace) up the corridor.

"Why does catering have to be so far from the dressing room?!"

Jinyu watches on with great amusement as you rest your hands on your knees, bending as if you've just run a 10k. Dramatics run in the family, or so it would seem.

"I dunno, babe," Jinyu purrs, her smile present just like it always is, voice a little extra loud to drown out the noise of the witches gathered in the corner. "Why was my favourite runner over in catering in the first place?"

You let your eyes narrow, her teasing grin only serving as a reminder that you really should know better than to keep on going back to the blueberry stash. It's not like you aren't allowed them. They'd all go to waste otherwise, so if anything, you're snacking on behalf of the company.

"You couldda just had them call one of the other runners back," you pout, knowing that it never would have been the case. She likes to make you work a little bit harder than the others, 'cause she knows you feel like you have more to prove.

Jinyu laughs, and passes you some hair grips to hook onto your sleeves for later. "You're the one who said you wanted to establish yourself! What was it you said at the start of these shows?"

You drop down onto the sofa next to her makeup station, tucking your legs up on the seat. The vibration of the music on stage pours through the walls at such a volume you're surprised you can even sustain a conversation.

"I'm gonna show them," Jinyu imitates with far more dramatic flair than you think is really necessary—but it is accurate. "I'll prove to them all that nepotism had nothing to do with me getting hired. Who, me?" She gasps."The baby sister of our very own World Wide Handsome? Hired because my brother pulled some strings? Never!"

"Fuck off," you laugh, tossing one of the sofa pillows towards her—but she catches it with ease because of course she does. Jinyu is everything you could ever aspire to be, hand-eye coordination included. The girls in the corner hush their conversation and begin to take an interest in your conversation. You ignore them, shrugging as you say, "It's not like I have a first-class degree in stage management or anything like that."

Sure, you have the qualifications—but you also aren't stupid. You know that the job is a favour amongst family. The job market these days is non-existent and while being Jin's sibling had afforded you a follower count worthy of an influencer, you need a purpose in life. It's no coincidence that you both showed an interest in the music industry—he's just far better suited to the performance side of it.

It would have been foolish to turn down the opportunity when Jin had mentioned it at a family dinner.

You're low-level, just a runner for now, but it's nice to be somewhere in which people don't give a shit about your famous brother. To most people here, he's a coworker, a colleague.

Outside of work, your entire personality to anyone you first meet is apparently being related to him. In all honestly, it's the same even in a professional capacity. Had started lying on your resume about your name, just so he wasn't the topic of conversation for all of your job interviews.

Remarkably, this is the only job that hasn't cared about him being your brother.

"Whatever you say. That's our cue. Off your arse," Jinyu says, her demeanour switching as the sound of the final chorus begins to simmer down. You don't need to be told twice, getting to your feet and into position beside her. "Can you be my right hand?"

♪ // Only Angel - Harry Styles

"Sure," you nod, expecting nothing less. It's not much, just putting some hair grips in place while she touches up their stage makeup, and switching out brushes as and when she needs them. Just enough to be helpful without getting in her way.

The girls in the corner follow suit, standing behind their chairs, eager to see the men in all of their sweaty, worn-out glory. They've made no secret of their admiration, which is why Jinyu is such a breath of fresh air. A fair few years older than the boys, she's happily married and doesn't care to swoon over them.

Like a force of nature, The Scouts rumble into the room - lips ajar, chest heaving, hair damp with sweat.

Jungkook is first, slamming his body down into one of the chairs, in dire need of something other than the piss-warm beer he's got up on stage. Tossing him a bottle of water from the countertop behind you, he catches it with ease. Smirks. Looks at you with all the adrenaline he's stolen from the eyes of the fans that adore him. Legs wide, bottle undone with one hand, there's a challenge to his gaze. Performing is a fuckin' drug to Jeon Jungkook - you just wish he didn't keep such a fucked-out look on that pretty face of his whenever he finishes.

So yeah, maybe you do get why the girls chitchat in the way that they do.

The rest of the band follow in, equally trashed, in the best possible way. Taehyung's shirt has miraculously lost all of its buttons, and Namjoon's T-shirt is now slung around his shoulders like a towel. His hair drips with sweat, arms swollen from the exertion of the last few days of shows.

Behind them, Yoongi strolls with an air of arrogance he carries off ever so well. Indifferent. Just as covered in sweat, but without the entire body exhaustion the other Scouts are displaying. He's too cool for his own good. Doesn't look at you. Looks right through you. Asshole.

And then finally, presumably because he was too busy flirting with the audience, the Scout Leader himself makes his grand entrance. Plastic cup in hand, he's nursing a Jack and Coke. Doesn't see the point in all this make-up malarky, when he knows he's just gonna sweat it off anyway. Would much rather actually take this time to recharge, even if just for a second. Thought that adding VCR's to shows would allow them more time for that, and is sorely disappointed by the reality of it.

"Fucking hell, has it been raining?" You deadpan when he slinks down into the chair opposite you and Jinyu. "Y'know, you should get some of those sweat-reduction botox injections. Would work wonders."

He looks at you with disdain that clearly tells you to fuck off. He stays silent. Kicks your shin, instead. You kick him right back.

"I swear the pair of you are worse than my two-year-old," Jinyu sighs as she drapes a towel around Jin's shoulders.

"Someone needs to humble him," you shrug.

"Someone needs to fire you," he says right back, not realising that Jinyu had passed you her hair mister, earning himself a spritz of water to the face.

Effective immediately, your hair mister privileges are taken away. Jinyu's pleasant smile looks almost stern as she takes it, putting it down on the dressing table with a thud.

"We've got three minutes," she reminds you.

"Sorry boss," you quip, not wanting her to actually get pissed off at you. There are certain liberties you can take, but you're supposed to be helping her, not a hindrance.

There's subdued energy in the room now that the boys have settled, not wanting to waste their fuel anywhere other than the stage. As you push grips into Jin's hair, ready for hairspray, you watch the room in the mirror view.

Taehyung is on his phone, not paying any attention to what's going on, his makeup artist working silently. Jungkook is patting down his own face with powder while his stylist teases his hair just right.

You look at him for a little too long, his eyes coming to meet yours in the mirror. Despite the pitch-black darkness of his irises, there's a lightness in his gaze—one that has your skin feeling all prickly and hot, eyes darting back down to Jin's hair.

You think you can hear him laughing to himself.

It's confirmed when Jimin waltzes into the room, clipboard in hand and asks, "What's got you giggling, Kook?"

He lies, and says he's thinking about his dog, Bam, just to save you from embarrassment.

You glance back up to where his eyes are already waiting for yours, brows lifted as he smirks. You make vague shapes with your mouth as if you're telling him to 'fuck off,' which only serves to make him laugh again, a little harder this time. He keeps it quiet, shoulders bobbing up and down, his smile magnetic.

It's all in good fun. There's been a running joke for years now that you'll date Jungkook just to piss off Jin.

You already know his make-up artist will twist that moment to her own liking, making up some bullshit about him laughing with her, but it's barely worth your energy.

Beside him, Jimin vies for attention from Yoongi, who looks like he's in need of a good nap.

There's a sheen to his skin, sweat dripping down his neck thanks to his make-up artists failing to grab him a towel. You call for Jimin's attention, and once you have it, you chuck him one of the spare towels over your shoulder. He tilts his head in confusion, but when you nod towards Yoongi, he understands.

The towel is passed along, a simple 'hm?' from Yoongi to question where it came from. Jimin nods towards you, and Yoongi takes a second to observe what you're doing. You're not looking at him, because quite frankly, he intimidates you.

He never used to.

In fact, you used to get along quite well—but you're vaguely aware of the fact he doesn't approve of nepotism, and knows that the only reason you secured this job is because of Jin.

It makes you feel a little embarrassed. A little ashamed. None of the other boys seem to care, but it puts you on edge with Yoongi. You try extra hard—be extra diligent—with him. He seems to be the one you seek validation from the most, despite him being the one you interact with the least.

In the corner of the room, Taehyung and Namjoon discuss the next song. A change from yesterday's set, they've been switching up songs so that no one really knows what to expect next. Have to keep things fresh. Keep their names trending. Get those streams. Meet industry targets set by suits with no real understanding of what it means to make art.

It's admirable how much they cram into such little time. Masters of their craft, it's an honour to see them work. It's without a doubt that they've earned their success.

You kind of get why Yoongi is hesitant of you. You feel underqualified, as if you haven't worked hard enough to earn the role you've been given—but you have. You have the credentials. Jin opened the door for you, yes, but you're the one who had the key in the first place.

You're distracted by your thoughts when your phone buzzes in your back pocket. The vibration hums just a little bit longer than any of your other app notifications, so you know exactly what it is. Know who it is.

Kind of.

There's a little bit of bashful shame that washes over your features, fearful someone will hear the buzz and recognise its length—not that anyone would notice the soft purr in the back pocket of your jeans, cushioned by your ass. It's just as incognito as the man who's sending you a message is.

Your phone buzzes a few times. Seven, to be precise.

Needy, you think to yourself—but it pleases you. He never fails to disappoint.

Well, rarely. You've been waiting half an hour for a message from him, and it's so bloody typical that it would come through when you're finally busy.

"Positions!" Jimin calls from the corridor, letting the boys know their rest time is up.

Jinyu casts an authoritative eye over the boys, checking to make sure they all look okay before sending them on their way.

"Hair grip," she reminds Jungkook's stylist, who had left a tiny little clip in his fringe. She flusters, embarrassed at missing such a detail, but Jungkook just pulls it from his fringe without much care as he puts his phone back on its wireless charging port.

Namjoon follows suit, reminded that his phone was in his back pocket, tossing it on one of the dressing room tables. Yoongi tucks his phone into a bag by the sofa, and Tae does the same.

They file out in good spirits, hyping one another up for the final part of the show, staff patting their backs and cheering on words of encouragement. It's always bittersweet for them; their final performances are their favourites, but they're also the ones in which they know they'll be saying farewell—and no one likes goodbyes.

You watch with fondness as the stage-cam plays on the TV in the corner of the room. There's something about the five of them together, on stage, surrounded by an ocean of unadulterated love and affection, that feels like watching magic. It's the kind of thing that only happens once in a lifetime. You're thankful you get to witness it in all its glory. You'll probably watch the final few songs from the side of the stage, just to feel even an ounce of what the boys do.

Sinking back into the sofa, the scent of hot, sweaty men clouding the air, you pull your phone from your pocket—and sure enough, you're met with the notifications you've been hoping for.

New Secret from D4m0cl3s D4m0cl3s: late shift tonight, sorry one of the girls on my team made a joke about how tense i seem to be said i need to get laid... i told her she needs to mind her own fucking business but... it also got me thinking about you i finish in an hour give me a reason not to go out and get laid

You smile, as the heat that pricked at your skin when Jungkook caught your eye earlier that evening returns.

Part of you toys with the idea of 'what if it's him?' His phone is face down on its charger, all of his secrets hidden from the world.

Part of you hopes it is, just for the knowledge of it irritating the fuck out of Jin and the girls who are sat in the corner, gossiping about his giggling earlier.

Realistically, you know it's not. It's impossible.

You've been sent enough pictures from your Damocles boy of his hands doing unthinkable things to know it can't be Jungkook. They're free of ink, pristine and pale, a little pink in their tone, and the only clue you have of who the fuck you spend so much time talking to.

"Where are you off to now?!" Jinyu asks as you head for the door, somehow surprised that you're dipping again.

"Catering," you lie, knowing full well you're going to find somewhere private enough to give your Damocles boy exactly what he's after.

"You'll turn into a blueberry," she warns you. You hold back a laugh, and resist the urge to tell her that what you're actually about to turn into is a clementine.

There are half a dozen doors down the corridor, but you slide into the first storage cupboard you come across. It's empty, and there's a lock on it, which is all you really need.

If you'd have stayed in the dressing room, it would have been a tomato you turned into, instead. Your cheeks would flush scarlet red, just like they did when the familiar purr of a Hush notification chimed far too loudly for something that's supposed to be all about keeping secrets.

You'd take a second. Wouldn't want to check your own phone, 'cause then all the girls would know you'd received a message from a hook-up app.

But you're not in the room. Nor is your phone.

And they all hear it regardless.

The girls who gossip pause, wondering if they've all heard the same thing. Jinyu is oblivious, happily married and unaware of what Hush even really is, let alone the vibrate tone.

One, two, three messages ping their way from your phone to his, but you're none the wiser. Haven't got a clue.

It's been three months, and neither one of you has any desire to disclose your identity to the other. You're serving a purpose; fulfilling a need.

Why ruin a good thing?

You aren't 'good', nor opposed to being ruined—but that's neither really here nor there. You've got a system that works, and it would be foolish to change things now.

You return to the dressing room, unaware that your phone isn't the only device within those four walls littered with pictures of your bare chest. In fact, everyone is unaware. It's your own little secret that you don't even realise you're keeping, and one that you intend on taking to the grave.

"No blueberries?" Jinyu asks as you return empty-handed.

"Got distracted," you lie, as you settle back into the sofa, a pleasant air surrounding you. On the screen, the boys are laughing, indulging in the energy of their fans for the final time that evening.

"By?" she presses, curious as to why you're looking all smitten as you watch the screen.

It's got nothing to do with any of them.

Or so you think.

It's actually got a whole lot to do with one of them.

You just don't realise it yet.

And so you simply shrug, and say, "Secret."

"C'mon," Jungkook grins, eyes still swathed by the glow of mobile phone flashlights held up during the encore, even a whole thirty minutes after the show is over. He tugs on your arm, but you remain fixed in place, shaking your head. "We're all going, aren't we?"

The question is addressed to the boys, but he's still looking at you. You wish he wouldn't. Not when he looks like that.

His lips are wet, freshly licked, glistening like his silver lip ring, and his hair is still a little damp around the nape of his neck. There's something about him that looks a lot like magic. It's a wonder you haven't fallen under his spell.

"Uh-huh," Jin nods, tossing back the dregs of his final jack and coke. He's not yet run the rider dry, but it doesn't matter. He'll take the bottle with him, and wherever they end up won't turn them away, for they know he'll buy more – though the bar will likely comp it through. "You can ride with me."

Jungkook's grin widens. He loves it when a plan comes together.

♪ // No Shame - Five Seconds of Summer

"C'mon," Jungkook says again. Is quiet in his tone. Persuasive. "I'll miss you if you're not there."

"Is that supposed to make me feel a certain type of way?" You deadpan. "Try it on one of the makeup girlies. They'll eat it right up."

"Don't wanna try it on one of them," he whines a little, nudging his shoulder against yours. "It's our final show. We're celebrating."

"Your final show," you remind him. "I've got a gig next week. Some European group-"

"Don't care," he says. "You're ours for the night. Come party."

You roll your eyes back so hard it feels like you might have just seen your frontal lobe, but there's a smile on your lips, too. It's nice to feel wanted; appreciated.

The invite isn't extended to the make-up artists, who are busy packing away, hoping that Jungkook's neediness will shift to them instead. It won't, but they can keep dreaming.

"If I come - and it's a strong if - you're paying," you bargain.

All you really want is to get home as quickly as you possibly can. Had even considered ordering a taxi before the boys had finished their set, but knew Jimin would have a field day with that one. Might even dock your pay just to be a little git.

You've a date with your phone, but the draw of real life is just too tempting.

It's difficult, because you know that you should want to go out, want to celebrate the fact you can actually go out now that the shows are done... but a random dude sending dick pics somehow seems to be more appealing.

It's tragic, really. Something that you never wanna have to explain. You think you'd rather die. Are shameful of your shamelessness. Ironic.

And right on time, a buzz in your back pocket rumbles through you like a crack of lightning; burns your cheeks a pretty posy pink.

Jungkook's ignorance of your reaction is a blessing. You're not sure how you would've explained it away - though knowing Jungkook, he'd have used your blush to wind Jin up. Attribute it to himself. Play into the idea of you hooking up with him.

It's not like you've never considered it – but lately, it's been hard to 'consider' anyone other than your Damocles boy.

You're reminded of him now – his thick, pink knuckles, and his notably thicker, marginally less pink cock- and how he said that someone on his team told him he needed to get laid. You can't help but think the same for yourself.

It's not healthy, the way you're so drawn to the excitement a few pixels can give you. Is stopping you from living your real life.

There's an unease in your stomach; guilt, almost.

So you groan, knock your head back, and concede. "Fine!"

"Attagirl!" Jungkook beams as he pulls his phone from his pocket, checking the time and pushing it back into his jeans again. He reaches over for his bag, the scent of his aftershave catching you off guard. There's something about him... Something you know you should ignore, but are finding harder and harder to do so with each and every passing day. "We good to go?"

"Who else is coming?" You hum, heading to the coat rack to pick up your jacket. Tae is leaning against the door frame, shaking his head.

"Not me. Got a date with my bed," he says, ending his sentence with a yawn. He covers it with the back of his hand, but it's so loud you almost find yourself yawning too.

"Pussy," Jungkook scoffs. "Final show and-"

"Me either," Yoongi says as he walks past, not looking in your direction. The jacket that hangs around his broad shoulders is dark, just like his mood always seems these days.

You're not exactly sure when he decided that you weren't worthy of his time, but you're used to it now. Sucks, but such is life. He's always been a little like this, but it's your first time being on the receiving end of his coldness.

"Hot date with your bed?" You tease, hoping to get a little bit of warmth from him.

As he reaches the door, it surprises you both when he turns to look at you. There's a stillness to him; the slow evaporation of cloudy breaths in sub-zero temperatures. His eyes meet yours, and drop down your body. Pause when they land on your palms, and the phone that's being held in them.

His gaze returns to your eyes, fast quicker this time, and then he shrugs. "Yeah, something like that."

He doesn't wait for a reply. You don't intend on giving him one, either.

"And then there were 5," Jungkook sighs. "Fuck it, let's go."

STAIRWAY BAR Itaewon-ro, Yongsan-Gu

♪ // Heaven and Back - Chase Atlantic

There's something sordid about the place you're in. Could be the neon lights on the walls, could be the walls lined with stacks upon stacks of old vinyl records. Could be the birdcages where lampshades should be, or it could be the worn-out leather sofas you're on in the corner of the room. Could be the punters, and how they're all wrapped in their own personal brand of sin, too busy to notice the living legends walking amongst them.

Truthfully, it's why the boys like places like this. They become one with the shadows. Can hide. Do things in secret that other people do in public. It's not like they're actively looking for trouble, but they can't help but seem to find it. Whether it be women, drugs, booze, it doesn't matter – they've each got a kryptonite.

Regretfully, you know Jin's: women who are no good for him. Blonde, brunette, foreign, local, he doesn't give a shit. All that matters is they know who he is, and they want him in inexplicable ways.

Credit where it's due, they all have conviction. All get exactly what they want – but he's easy. Sluts himself out for the fun of it; for the novelty of being a 'rockstar'.

It's gotten worse since their last big award show win. He's getting careless. Has never been one to hand out NDAs, but the kind of people he's attracting now really should have gag orders – issue is, Jin's always far more focused on finding out how sensitive their gag reflex is.

Namjoon's is his inability to say 'no'. Afterparty? He's there. Toke on a joint that has no business being in the hands of such a high-profile man? Go on, then. An upper before a show? Don't mind if I do.

It's a disaster waiting to happen. Anywhere else and you wouldn't worry. In the States, it'd be a non-issue. Expected, even.

The laws aren't so forgiving, here. One bad decision and that's it. Jail time. But sir, I'm a rockstar, pwetty pwease let me go, won't work on a court judge, and even if it did, the court of public opinion and trial by social media would run him into the ground regardless.

Unfair? You think so, yes. Just how life goes? Also yes.

Though they all push the limits to a certain extent, it's Jungkook that's the biggest risk of all. He's the youngest. Got girls lining around the block just to have a look at him. Is bad in a way that girls convince themselves is good. I can fix him. All starry-eyed and sex appeal, there's nothing innocent about him. Nothing.

S'why you know better than to indulge in his flirt – because that's all it ever is. A limit to push. A boundary to break. A challenge he wants to win.

In quite the contrast, Taehyung keeps his boundaries watertight. Doesn't stray, doesn't overindulge. Goes home to a partner who'd give him the world, if he asked – but he won't. See, Kim Taehyung already has the world. Not his career (though it could be argued), not his money, not his fame. They're perks, sure – but his world waits up for him with his favourite snacks on the kitchen counter, ready to hear all about the show.

It's only the close circle that knows. The make-up girls don't have a clue. Jinyu is well aware, but not because it's ever been discussed. She just knows. Is intuitive, like that. Probably knows more about the boys' business than even Jimin does – and it's his job to know their business.

Though the boys would argue that Yoongi has no weakness, you believe otherwise.

His Achilles heal is found in his solitude. His laissez-faire attitude to the world around him stunts his enjoyment of it, you think. He's never gonna be in his twenties in the biggest band in the world ever again. These days will pass him by, and he's wasting them.

If he were to know you felt this way, he wouldn't dignify you with a response; he'd just show up to even fewer events to spite you. Has no interest in your unsolicited opinions of him.

Because you're wrong about his weaknesses.

While yes, his solitude exacerbates them, it's the silence that nurtures his weaknesses: his regrets. His inability to forget. Forgive. Let things go. He fixates, and it frustrates him to the point of fury.

His kryptonite is not how little he cares. Quite contrary. It's how violently he does care. That's what ties his shoelaces together and trips him up. Gives him a bloody nose. Scrapes his knees. Leaves him bloodied and bruised; pink in his pain.

But that's your kryptonite: your cocksure arrogance in thinking you know everything.

Or at least, that's what Yoongi would tell you, if he were ever to get into this debate with you.

He won't.

Again, you'll think it's because he's laissez-faire. That he doesn't care.

Regretfully, you'll be wrong – but he's the one who simmers over regrets, not you.

"Alright, alright!" You laugh, a little unsteady on your feet as you stand up after god-knows how many shots. Namjoon reaches out to steady you. Glances at Jin as if to say, 'kids, eh?'

You're all fucked. Have had far too much, but you figure that's what nights like these are for – who cares? You're celebrating.

Jin just smiles. Rolls his eyes, then averts his attention to the blonde by the bar who's gonna take your seat as soon as you leave.

Jungkook doesn't notice, cause he's too busy laughing at you.

"Just gonna run to the bathroom," you declare, as if they need to know such details. "Need to pee."

"Bathrooms just round the other side of the projector screen," Jimin tells you, nodding in its direction, 'cause even though it's after hours and he's far too heavily intoxicated, he can't help but be resourceful. That's his kryptonite. Can never switch off. "Just up the stairs."

It's not even like you need direction. Have been to this bar more times than you've had hot dinners.

Jungkook laughs. Thinks you're full of shit.

"Your tolerance is going down in your old age," he teases, as if you're not the same age. "Tactical chunders are for the weak."

You tell him to go fuck himself, and he laughs, all hearty and warm. "Gladly."

Their chatter continues without you. The blonde joins, and so does her friend. Someone's getting lucky tonight, and you're pretty sure it'll be all four of them. Thoughts you'd rather not think, honestly.

Teeny tiny is the bathroom. Cramped. A single cubicle is in working order and the hot tap has been broken for as long as you've been visiting this place. It definitely violates some health and safety codes, but who really gives enough of a shit to report it?

Holding your fingers beneath the already running tap, you check the temperature – as if the hot tap even works – and wait for a moment just to be sure. Icy cold, as always.

Lost in the sensation of the water, you forget for a moment why you're there.

While yeah, you could have a drink from the tap, you could have just gotten water at the bar.

Brain all fuzzy, you can't put your finger on it - until your phone vibrates in your back pocket.

And then suddenly, you remember exactly why you're in the bathroom.

11:37PM

D4m0cl3s: fuck, you look so good such a tease i'll be home as soon as i can be been thinking about you all night

11:58PM

i'm home let me know when you're free

00:16AM

you're taking your precious time tonight

00:21AM

what's the deal, huh? tryna get me all frustrated?

00:23AM

it's working

00:39AM

damn maybe that girl on my team was right maybe i should have just gone out and got laid tonight

01:05AM

really? even me being an asshole isn't working? is it compliments you want? you know i'll give you them

01:28AM

okay so i actually am a bit worried now, let me know when you're home safe, m'kay?

Cl3m3ntin3: you know what they say treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen

D4m0cl3s: FINALLY

Cl3m3ntin3: damn, you really are keen aren't you

D4m0cl3s: you were gone so long i was thinking about watching porn PORN you know how long it's been since i watched porn?

Cl3m3ntin3: if my calculations are correct, about 3 months?

D4m0cl3s: ... you're smart, clem but also so mean, my god got me all riled up and kept me waiting HOURS

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm sorry i'm here now and i'm thinking about you, too

D4m0cl3s: are you still out? at work?

Cl3m3ntin3: uh-huh out not at work, tho

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: fucking hell, clem your tits look so good come here wanna hold them

Cl3m3ntin3: give me an address and i'll get in a taxi right now we can keep the lights off, never have to see each other keep things anon but i gottaaaa feel your hands on my chest

D4m0cl3s: i wish i could wish i could just fuck you like we both know you deserved to be fucked

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm not stopping you

D4m0cl3s: we both know that isn't entirely true

Cl3m3ntin3: do we? give me an address doesn't have to be yours hotel sex is always fun

D4m0cl3s: i have a feeling all sex with you will be fun location is irrelevant

Cl3m3ntin3: well i'm currently in a bathroom stall hiding from my friends just so i can reply to you you reckon a bathroom stall would be fun?

D4m0cl3s: i reckon i love a challenge

Cl3m3ntin3: well i mean i could always send you my current location...

D4m0cl3s: tempting... but no.

Cl3m3ntin3: you're your own worst cock block, damocles boy

D4m0cl3s: it's called deprivation, baby yanno, kind of like what you did when you kept me waiting for hours gonna make you want me so badly it hurts

Cl3m3ntin3: i already do which is why you should come and put me out of my misery

D4m0cl3s: you're with your friends, you're fine ;) actually you drinking?

Cl3m3ntin3: a little

D4m0cl3s: a little?

Cl3m3ntin3: ...a lottle?

D4m0cl3s: the fact you just said lottle tells me all i need to know lmao you know the drill, clem

Cl3m3ntin3: :((((( noooooo

D4m0cl3s: stop pouting

Cl3m3ntin3: i can't :(((

D4m0cl3s: you can i meant what i said about no drunk messages only want you doing this when your head is clear

Cl3m3ntin3: my head is clear and my head thinks you should stop thinking with yours actually start thinking with your dick instead :)

D4m0cl3s: fine then let's see how clear your head is send me a video of you walking in a straight line

Cl3m3ntin3: you just wanna see my feet perv

D4m0cl3s: video

Cl3m3ntin3: fineeee, fucking fine!

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: oh yeah fuck that clem, you're pissed as a fart hahaha i'm not even sure you tried to walk in a straight line, you wobbly mess cute laugh tho get some water in you go back to your friends we can talk in the morning

Cl3m3ntin3: but i wanna talk now :( missed u today

D4m0cl3s: missed u too will miss you tonight but i'll wait

Cl3m3ntin3: :( whyyy do you have to be so good all the time :(

D4m0cl3s: because we both know that the second you send me a picture of your perfect little pussy, i won't be good

Cl3m3ntin3: now?

D4m0cl3s: no, baby in the morning, okay? drink some water.

Cl3m3ntin3: fine

D4m0cl3s: watch your attitude

Cl3m3ntin3: sighhh :((

D4m0cl3s: don't you'll make me feel bad just get yourself home and to bed and you can wake up to this tomorrow...

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

Cl3m3ntin3: BRB, sprinting home

D4m0cl3s: shut up idiot enjoy your night lemme know when ur home

Cl3m3ntin3: okay :( sweet dreams, damocles boy x

D4m0cl3s: speak soon, clemmie x

D4m0cl3s is offline

08:58AM

D4m0cl3s: morning clemmie

Cl3m3ntin3: hereee he is was wondering when you'd be up

D4m0cl3s: been up ages was wondering if today would finally be the day you message me first ;)

Cl3m3ntin3: why would i ever do that? we both know you can't bear to be away from this chat thread for more than a few hours

D4m0cl3s: your ego never fails to amaze me

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm a product of your creation, damocles boy you told me last week that i'm the only thing that gets you hard these days and you expect me not to get an ego?

D4m0cl3s: hope you know that when i actually get to fuck you, there's no room in my bed for your ego

Cl3m3ntin3: oh bite me you're gonna be putty in my hands

D4m0cl3s: i'm really gonna have to fuck the ego out of you, aren't i? get your little attitude problem in check and biting? you into that?

Cl3m3ntin3: i'd like to see you try like i said, this is aaaaall your fault if you can't control yourself over a message thread, how the fuck will you cope when I'm in front of you? and pls i'm gonna be the one fucking you it's cute that you think otherwise stupid <33 but cute :)

D4m0cl3s: i literally hate you

Cl3m3ntin3: you gonna hate me when im on my knees between your legs?

D4m0cl3s: yep

Cl3m3ntin3: gonna hate me when i run my tongue up and down that pretty cock of yours?

D4m0cl3s: yep

Cl3m3ntin3: gonna hate me when i wrap my lips around your tip? when i take your hard cock in my warm, wet mouth?

D4m0cl3s: yep and yep

Cl3m3ntin3: gonna hate me when i take you so deep my eyes start watering?

D4m0cl3s: uh-huh

Cl3m3ntin3: you're a tough bargainer :(

D4m0cl3s: just means im gonna fuck you like i hate you

Cl3m3ntin3: no you're not :) you're gonna be soooo shy so timid so scared of fucking up because of how badly you want me

D4m0cl3s: the way you're gonna eat your fucking words actually makes me laugh

Cl3m3ntin3: i wanna hear your laugh

D4m0cl3s: you can hear it when you finally fuck me

Cl3m3ntin3: i could have fucked you last night you said no <//3

D4m0cl3s: incorrect i said not when you're drunk

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm a good fuck when im drunk

D4m0cl3s: i'm pretty sure you're a good fuck regardless of your blood alcohol concentration i've seen how you fuck your toys i know you're a good fuck

Cl3m3ntin3: like this?

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: just like that fuck that's it, baby i like that toy what is it? glass? always looks so good when you sink it into your pussy so so wet, fucking hell

Cl3m3ntin3: glass, uh-huh you should get one for yourself

D4m0cl3s: myself?

Cl3m3ntin3: yourself

D4m0cl3s: i'm not sure that's my kinda thing, clemmie

Cl3m3ntin3: only one way to find out plus i remember how hard you came that time i got you to play with your ass a little

D4m0cl3s: shut up omg

Cl3m3ntin3: seeeeee, i'm totally gonna be the one doing the fucking :D

D4m0cl3s: you're not touching my ass

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm gonna eat it :)

D4m0cl3s: you're gonna do no such thing

Cl3m3ntin3: hehe okay whatever you say :D can't wait to say i told you so when you're face down ass up whining about how good my tongue feels :D

D4m0cl3s: and this is exactly why you need the ego fucked out of you never gonna happen

Cl3m3ntin3: you'll be begging for it one day but fineeeee, if u say so tell me how you'd do it, then? how would you fuck the ego (that you gave me!!!) outta me? tell me how you'd ruin me, damocles boy

D4m0cl3s: show me your pussy first let me look at how wet you are right now

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: god, look at you if this is how wet you get thinking about eating my ass... we can put it on the maybe list but you'd be on your back, like you are now exactly like that, perfect and spread for me i'd start with my fingers

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

these two i'll push them into you so slowly that you'll be begging for more you'll be all whiney (so no change to normal lmao) but i'll curl them a little, just like you said you like it, and use my thumb to toy with your clit

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: fuck i love it when you send videos i could watch that forever literal cinema the way your pussy leaks for me, christ i wouldn't be able to watch your pussy leak like that without licking it up i'd keep my thumb on your clit, gently circling it as my tongue began to toy with your entrance you'd be so leaky on my tongue wouldn't you? so so fuckin' wet for me

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

it's mutual, just so you know

Cl3m3ntin3: god i fucking love it when your tip gets all wet like that you are soooooo needy you wanna fuck me soooooo bad he he i stay winning!!!

D4m0cl3s: CLEM. CONTROL. YOUR. EGO!!

Cl3m3ntin3: FUCK. IT. OUT. OF. ME!!!!

D4m0cl3s: your ego is so big i think i'll just have to fuck you for hours at this point :/

Cl3m3ntin3: oh no :( such a shame !!! :(

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: just imagine this stretching your tight little pussy open my cock is so much bigger than that dildo

Cl3m3ntin3: can't wait to feel you inside me i know it's gonna hurt but in like... the best possible way you're so big and thick such a nice cock ♡♡

D4m0cl3s: i'll go slow with you baby ease you into it

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

Cl3m3ntin3: you've got me soooo wet i think it'll be easy to push into me fill me up

D4m0cl3s: my needy girl look at you my cock belongs inside you your pussy already belongs to me

Cl3m3ntin3: come and claim it

D4m0cl3s: you're making it harder and harder to say no fuck im close

Cl3m3ntin3: same i wanna watch you cum

D4m0cl3s: fuck it i'll call? we can finish together?

Cl3m3ntin3: please

Incoming call from D4m0cl3s Accept | Decline (03 minutes : 14 seconds)

Call ended.

Cl3m3ntin3: nice work

D4m0cl3s: pleasure doing business

Cl3m3ntin3: as always i totally heard that little giggle tho ;)

D4m0cl3s: fuck off what giggle

Cl3m3ntin3: the one you did after you came all over your tummy :)♡♡

D4m0cl3s: never giggled in my life ever

Cl3m3ntin3: liar x

D4m0cl3s: i only laughed cause you did too >:(

Cl3m3ntin3: and i only laughed cause of how hard you made me cum you've got a gift, damocles boy

D4m0cl3s: and you've got the nicest pussy i've ever seen in my whole entire life

Cl3m3ntin3: you have to use a dating app to get your rocks off deffo a virgin :/ never seen a pussy before in your life :/ not much competition to compare me to, is there? :/

D4m0cl3s: i really do mean it when i say i hate you :) x

Cl3m3ntin3: i know you do babe

D4m0cl3s: wish we were never matched, actually

Cl3m3ntin3: same might just block you actually

D4m0cl3s: PLEASE put me out of my misery

Cl3m3ntin3: okay :D bye forever :D

D4m0cl3s: wait no don't :(

Cl3m3ntin3: you're a bloody seesaw boy always up and down either hate me or love me make up your mind !!

D4m0cl3s: lmao you've no idea but where's the fun in that? i like keeping you on your toes

Cl3m3ntin3: true i gotta run tho got a date with a real boy seeyaaaa x

D4m0cl3s: wooooah wait wait a date?

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah with someone in like.. real life... problem?

D4m0cl3s: no problem just surprised that's all

Cl3m3ntin3: that someone would want to date me?

D4m0cl3s: no that you'd want to date someone else

Cl3m3ntin3: breaking news: girl in her early twenties wants more than nudes from a stranger on the internet

D4m0cl3s: fair enough probably shouldn't continue this, then a heads up would have been nice

Cl3m3ntin3: you wanna stop?

D4m0cl3s: no no, i really don't, clem but you're right you do deserve more

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah i do

D4m0cl3s: i actually hate this wtf like i know you can do what you like and i can do what i like but i thought we had something good going?

Cl3m3ntin3: we do thank god i'm just lying about a date for attention :) <3

D4m0cl3s: what the fuck clem

Cl3m3ntin3: made you shit your pants didn't i

D4m0cl3s: CLEM.

Cl3m3ntin3: DAMOCLES BOY.

D4m0cl3s: so you're not going on a date?

Cl3m3ntin3: no you idiot you think i have enough time to be meeting new people when i spend all my free time sending you nudes? was just fucking with you wanted to see if you cared

D4m0cl3s: you could have just asked

Cl3m3ntin3: you'd have told me you hate me

D4m0cl3s: BECAUSE I DO you're actually mental

Cl3m3ntin3: he he u luv it

D4m0cl3s: i don't

Cl3m3ntin3: do basically started crying when you thought someone else might take your place

D4m0cl3s: you didn't even give me a chance to clean myself up you fucking menace !! just made me cum and then did a 180 what did you expect me to do?! you know how sad my dick looks right now?

Cl3m3ntin3: no show me

D4m0cl3s: get fucked you little cretin

Cl3m3ntin3: let me see your sad cock :(

D4m0cl3s: you're never seeing it again you don't deserve it after that little stunt

Cl3m3ntin3: so... ill see it tonight?

D4m0cl3s: .... .......... ............... probably now fuck off i've got a day to get on with might even go on a date

Cl3m3ntin3: no you won't :D

D4m0cl3s: i hate you x

Cl3m3ntin3: denial x

D4m0cl3s is offline

"Jesus Christ," you say, tone full of surprise when you walk into your living room. It's just gone midday, and you've finally risen from your hangover pit of despair.

Following the conversation with your Damocles boy, you had decided a nap was in order, but it only served to make your headache even worse. Turns out, the orgasm had just been a temporary solution. You need paracetemol, and you need it now.

"Jimin, actually," an equally hungover mess groans from your sofa. He's bundled in blankets, a pouty chin hooked over the armrest to look at you with puppy dog eyes. His expression screams 'water pls'.

"And Jungkook," a second voice whines from behind the sofa. A hand rises from the direction of the voice, covered in thick black inkings, before falling with a thud.

Your lips hang ajar as you look at them both, far more confused than you should be. When you glance over to the kitchen counter, you're greeted with the sight of what must have been a rager. There are bottles everywhere - mainly soju and beer - and there's a sticky sheen pooling around their bases. A packet of crisps is open on the hob, but most of the actual crisps are scattered on the floor. You're willing to bet good money on Jungkook being responsible for those.

"The fuck happened last night?" You ask, though you're able to pick up enough context clues from the photobooth pictures that are on your fridge door. They're stuck in place with washi tape, of which you don't remember buying.

"You didn't buy it," Jungkook says when you ask about it. "Stole it from the photobooth place. Little klepto."

"Brilliant," you grimace. The last thing you need is a scandal going around about Kim Seokjin's troublesome younger sister and her thieving ways. The media love a scandal, and Jin has been able to avoid them for the most part. "Joon and Jin?"

"Headed home before us," Jimin tells you. "Really don't remember a thing, do you?"

The last thing you remember is messaging your Damocles boy in the bathroom stall. You don't even really remember how the conversation ended. The rest of the night? Never happened, in your mind.

Still reeling, the day wastes away from you all.

It's spent huddled up on your sofa, Jungkook's Spotify connected to your speaker, as you try and decipher exactly what happened the night before. It's like you're the cast of a shitty Hollywood movie from 10 years ago - nothing makes sense, but it also kind of all does. Jungkook's got the least patchy memories. Remembers how you got home, at least.

There's only one thing he doesn't mention - partially because it happened this morning, not last night, but also because he wants to spare your dignity.

He's a light sleeper. Especially the mornings after a few too many drinks. As soon as the alcohol flushes his body, he has to get up, get water, go to the bathroom. Set his world to rights. This morning had been no exception.

Just a shame he happened to wake a mere matter of moments before your Damocles boy had called you.

No words had been spoken, no conversation took place - but with your phone angled awkwardly for prime shots of your most intimate areas, you had moaned a little louder than usual to make sure the mic picked it up.

And so Jungkook had heard it all - and had recognised the click of a Hush call coming to an end. He's had more than enough himself to know the tone by now.

Watching on as you laugh with Jimin about something nonsensical, mid-afternoon sun pouring through the cracks in your curtains, Jungkook is curious.

You don't notice the way he's studying you, nibbling on his lip ring as he does so.

The running joke between the pair of you about dating to piss off Jin has always been exactly that - a joke - but the idea of you dating someone else in the industry makes him feel a little... off.

He doesn't question it, though. Doesn't really know what to make of it. Doesn't like it, mind you.

As the evening begins to draw in, Jimin leaves first, with Jungkook set to follow suit half an hour later. He tells you he'll leave at 6, but he's still on your sofa when it hits 7:05PM.

"There's something about you lately," he says, scheming, dark eyes narrow. You narrow yours back right back.

"How so?"

"Dunno," he smiles. He wants to ask who you're fucking about with, but it seems too forward. You're close, and have been for years, but not as close as you used to be. His fault, really. He's the one who ditched you when he started dating some songwriter a few years back. "You just seem... preoccupied. What's going on with you, fizz?"

The nickname is so natural that it rolls off Jungkook's tongue as if he hadn't stopped calling you it around the same time he got that girlfriend. She didn't last long, but the slight chill to your friendship had.

"Haven't heard that in a while," you smile right back, as you take a sip on the fizzy orangade that you adore so much it had become a bloody nickname.

"Still suits you," he says, and he's right. Fizzy by name, fizzy by nature. "So you gonna tell me?"

You're not really sure what he wants you to say, so just shrug. "I'm fine, buddy. Are you okay?"

"I'm cool," he nods, aware of the fact you definitely don't want to talk about whatever it is going on with you - so he changes topic. "Nervous about tour, if I'm being honest. You're coming, right? Been contracted on?"

"Uh-huh," you nod. "For the European leg, at least. They haven't sent out contracts yet for the US leg."

"You'll be on it," he says with absolute certainty. He can't see any reason why you wouldn't be. They all like having you around. It's nice having a familiar face backstage. Nice having a friend.

"Hopefully," you agree, very aware that your job is incredibly sought after. You're not the only nepotism baby around, and know that the US leg will be a lot more... political, as it were. Record label execs will all be fighting for attention from the boys, and that could mean putting overqualified suits in job positions like yours, just for a little bit of Scout exposure.

"You really think they're gonna kick you off the roster?" he smiles, nudging you with his foot from across the sofa. "We'd all riot. Even Yoongi."

Now that is something you doubt.

"He'd probably be leading the counter-riot to have me kicked off," you roll your eyes.

"He's just pissy that he can't be annoyed with you," Jungkook laughs. "He wants to hate how you got hired, but he knows you're good at what you do. Knows that you'd have got the job with or without your bloodline."

"Or," you counter. "He really does just hate me."

Jungkook shakes his head. He's noticed Yoongi's coldness recently, too. Puts it down to stress from touring so intensely. Things were definitely different than they used to be - not necessarily any better, nor worse. Just different.

"It's understandable," Jungkook taunts you. "You are pretty unbearable."

He catches your foot as you go to kick him, surprised by how strong your legs actually are - but you're no match for his upper body strength. Not even when you try and use your other leg, as well.

"Some boys actually enjoy my company," you protest, still struggling a little.

"Uh-huh," Jungkook nods, biting down on his bottom lip. His eyes are sparkling in the same way they did after last night's concert. He's just messing, flirting with you for the fun of it, but he knows he shouldn't. Knows he's only doing it cause he knows you're talking to someone else. He's lost your affections before, and while you're just friends, he still doesn't like the idea of it happening again. He likes being number one. Likes being top of the food chain. "Sure they do."

He thinks he has the upper hand here, but he hasn't realised you've stopped fighting against his grip. You're gentle in the way you move your legs, lowering them just a little until they're on his lap. He lets them be. Pays no notice to the fact he's not entirely soft beneath his sweats.

You ignore it, too. Kind of. Press down a little, just to let him know you know. He doesn't react. Just cocks one of his brows, as if to say, 'so?'

And then he figures that throwing caution to the wind is the best option here. He doesn't want to let things get out of hand, and he's sure you don't either.

"So are you gonna tell me about your Hush boy now or later?"

The way your jaw drops is almost comical. The pressure of your feet eases, and Jungkook is sad to lose it, but he doesn't resist as you pull your legs up to your chest in panic. He's still got that cocksure grin on his face, amused by your reaction.

"What?" He smirks, reclining back into the corner of the sofa. His legs spread a little, and the bulge is even more noticeable. He's doing it to fuck with you, now. You don't even look in its direction, but he still has the nerve to say, "Eyes up here, fizz."

"My eyes are up," you almost gasp. "And so are you, apparently."

Jungkook knocks his head to the side, and scrunches his nose a little. Being called out for it makes him a little awkward, even when he's the most confident guy you've ever known.

"I'm just hungover-"

"Yeah, yeah," you roll your eyes, before reciting the same bullshit he always says. "I'm always more horny when I'm hungover."

The way you say it is so whiney that Jungkook can't help but laugh. "I don't sound like that you prick - and stop deflecting. I heard you this morning. Sounds like I'm not the only one who suffers from horny hangovers."

It's about now that your face blossoms with the most delightful shade of red. Your cheeks are hot, and Jungkook can see how mortified you are. He finds it fucking hilarious.

"You didn't."

"Oh," he sings. "But I did."

"I'm gonna throw up," you grimace. Flirting with Jungkook is all well and good, but the idea of him hearing you get yourself off is shameful. Truly horrific.

"You didn't remember that me and Jimin had crashed here, did you?" He teases, knowing that you'd have never done it had you known they were in the next room over - or maybe you would have done. You just would have been a little more discreet.

"Didn't have a clue," you confirm, before burying your head in a sofa cushion. This is probably the most tragic conversation you've ever had with Jungkook.

He just laughs. Finds it hilarious.

"You didn't hear anything," you tell him. "Forget it ever happened."

"Was kinda hot," he shrugs - but fails to tell you that his current semi isn't the first time he's been hard in your apartment today. "Doesn't answer my question, though. Who's your Hush guy?"

Your face screws up like a paper napkin. This is not a conversation you want to be having, nor one you thought you'd be having a few minutes ago when your feet were on his cock.

In fact, your eyes are still closed, face all cute and regretful when you say, "How the fuck am I supposed to know? Doesn't that defeat the object of Hush?"

Jungkook laughs. "Give over. Who is he?"

"I'm being serious," you say, and notice the way Jungkook's smile shifts. He looks a little concerned, now, brows hard. "I don't know."

"Fizz," he says, too shocked to address you by anything but a dumb nickname. His brows are furrowed, and it's his jaw gaping now, not yours. "How do you not know?"

And now you're confused, because you thought that anonymity was the whole point of Hush.

"We just... never disclosed it, I guess?"

"So, what?" Jungkook's tone changes. It sounds like he's accusing you now, berating you a little. You both look as bewildered as one another. "You just matched with some dude this morning and got straight to it?"

That's the only plausibility, Jungkook thinks.

He knows Hush, knows what it's like, but knows that the stakes are too high to keep the anon act up. If he isn't comfortable enough to share his identity within a day or two, he unmatches.

Sure, he's gotten himself in pretty risky conversations straight off the bat before, and has had his fair share of casual encounters thanks to the app - but he doesn't love the idea of you doing it, too. It's because he knows that he doesn't care for the girls he uses in those situations, and dislikes the idea of someone else using you like that.

"No?" You reply, a little offended. "We've been talking for like... a few months?"

Jungkook almost shrieks. "A few months?! And you don't know who he is?!"

You stay silent for a moment. You're reflecting his confusion back at him. He can't understand for the life of him why you don't see a problem with this - but you haven't worked your way through the Hush circles like he has. Your Damocles boy has been the only person you've ever given the time of day on there.

"That's the whole point?" You say, but it's really a question because you can't understand why he's so horrified.

"He could be anyone," Jungkook whispers, as if he's trying to keep your secret for you. "Anyone!"

"He's alright," you promise. "He's nice."

"You don't even know his name!"

"I'm pretty sure you can only name a handful of the girls you've fucked in the last couple of years," you scoff at his hypocrisy.

Jungkook got eyes like a hopeless romantic, all shiny and bright. People don't seem to realise such appeal affords him endless opportunities for casual encounters - of which he thinks it would be rude to turn down. Or at least that's what he tells you.

Realistically, you know he just likes fucking about.

"That's not the point here, fizz, and you know it," he scolds.

"Who I may or may not send nudes to is really none of your concern, Jungkook," you tell him.

"I know that," he insists. "But if this has been going on for months..."

"Then it's still none of your concern."

He holds up his hands, eyes wide. He's waving a white flag, even if he thinks you're a walking, talking red one. "I'm not attacking you, here. I just think you need to be careful."

"I'm fine," you tell him softly, and he's pleased when you smile at him in that fond way he's so used to. It feels a lot safer than the confusion on your face a moment ago. You know his concern comes from a good place. "It's just what works for us. It's as much my choice as it is his."

Jungkook nods, and lets it go, but not before warning you, "I'm not the only one of the guys on there. Tae and Jin, we both know they're not, but the rest of them? I dread to think of what Jin would do if he found out Joon was phone fucking his little sister."

You laugh now. Really laugh.

"I'm not kidding!" Jungkook protests.

"I'd recognise any of you in an instant," you tell him, and you really believe it.

You have no doubt in your mind that you'd be able to sense any of them off from miles away. They're too familiar.

"I fucking hope so," he laughs, and while you're laughing too, you feel a little uneasy.

Maybe he has a point. Maybe you do need to dig a little deeper.

But as Jungkook leaves, and you check your phone only to find a new message waiting from your Damocles boy, you can't help but feel a little out of your depth already.

21:43PM

D4m0cl3s: whyyyy am i so obsessed with u

22:10PM

leaving me on read? that's a new one (plus will probably only make me a little more obsessed (something about toxic girls that just really gets to me))

22:32PM

i lied i don't like toxic girls pls don't ignore me clem :(

Cl3m3ntin3: hey sorry was just a little busy

D4m0cl3s: it's cool you okay?

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah yeah, im all good you?

D4m0cl3s: im okay you seem a little... i dunno. off?

Cl3m3ntin3: sorry i'm fine really

D4m0cl3s: yanno, you say one thing but the way you're writing sends a whole entire different message it's v confusing, clem

Cl3m3ntin3: sorry i don't mean to be im all good, honest

D4m0cl3s: stop saying sorry

22:54PM

clem whats up you're never like this, you got me worried

Cl3m3ntin3: you sat at home worrying over a girl you can't even imagine?

D4m0cl3s: wdym?

Cl3m3ntin3: it's not like you can picture me not like you can think of my face so what are you thinking about when you're worrying? some pixels? your phone?

D4m0cl3s: right. where has all this come from? please know my face is very confused right now so whatever you imagine when you think of me - 'cause let's remember that you don't have a fuckin' clue what i look like either - add a little confusion to it that should do the job.

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm gonna add a little anger to it 'cause you seem pissed off

D4m0cl3s: well, yeah? i kind of am i don't get why you're, like, attacking me? like im the only one keeping a secret? it's you and me both, clem.

00:06AM

you can't just ignore me whenever i say something you don't like

Cl3m3ntin3: no? i think i can. goes with the territory of you not knowing who the fuck i am. no repercussions.

D4m0cl3s: where the fuck has all this come from? were we not good this morning?

00:13AM

and there you go again, leaving me on read.

Cl3m3ntin3: don't act like you actually give a fuck been 3 months if you cared, surely i'd know who you are by now?

D4m0cl3s: pot, kettle, black, clem it's a two-way street and fuck you if i didn't care, i'd just be leaving your shitty attitude on read, too.

Cl3m3ntin3: how can you care about someone you don't know? really? how can you?

D4m0cl3s: are you telling me you don't care about me?

00:17AM

if this is you leaving me on read again then you can go fuck yourself. like literally just unmatch me.

Cl3m3ntin3: im not leaving you on read im trying to figure out what the fuck i want to say just give me a moment, okay?

D4m0cl3s: m'kay.

Cl3m3ntin3: i care that's, like the most important thing here. i really care. i just i had someone irl questioning me about you today and it kind of left me stumped. why don't you want to know who i am?

D4m0cl3s: i kinda hate that an outsider has swayed your opinion on me so much don't get me wrong, i love that your friends care about you just hate that it makes you think i don't

Cl3m3ntin3: that's not an answer

D4m0cl3s: patience is a virtue, clem i was getting there my line of work... i cant commit to anything. it isn't fair. it isn't fair to let someone get invested in me. the moment you know who i am, everything changes it's far easier for you to be detached if i'm just a few pixels if this isn't physical

Cl3m3ntin3: you've spent 3 months getting yourself off to me and me alone that's commitment, isn't it?

D4m0cl3s: that's conditioning, clem you've made everything else so incredibly boring you're the only thing that excites me

Cl3m3ntin3: and yet...

D4m0cl3s: and yet. clem, we both know the second this becomes more than what it already is, there's no taking it back. i don't wanna lose this don't wanna lose you.

Cl3m3ntin3: i think it's really sad that you think being honest will result in losing me

D4m0cl3s: just how the cookie crumbles, clem i've seen it happen with my friends you were right when you said you deserve more than dick pics from some rando on the internet but even if you knew who i was, that's all i'd be able to give you i like you too much to cope with knowing how disappointed you'd be by the outcome of my grand reveal a few pixels can only disappoint you so much a real, tangible human? so much more.

Cl3m3ntin3: just a rando on the internet who sends me dick pics and yet you've got me feeling all kinds of fucked up

D4m0cl3s: it's mutual, if it helps really did mean it when i said i was obsessed with u earlier and for the record i don't really imagine a person when i think of you more of like.. i dunno. an aura? i guess. peachy. orange. a little green. very clementine inspired maybe that's it maybe i imagine clementines my teeny tiny clementine

Cl3m3ntin3: you make my heart hurt

D4m0cl3s: you make my heart hurt, too

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm sorry for... like going off at you

D4m0cl3s: it's cool kind of nice to see this side of you, i guess ur ego isn't always big shock

Cl3m3ntin3: oh no it is this is all the result of a bruised ego was very offended that you didn't wanna know i am i'll have you know one of my friends got a semi just looking at me earlier and yet the guy who makes me cum doesn't even wanna know me <///333

D4m0cl3s: firstly lets stop with this nonsense, okay? i would kill to know who you are and as soon as we're both in situations where it's fair i'm booking you a taxi and routing it straight for my place also fuck ur friend (not literally pls)

Cl3m3ntin3: oh? not gonna wine and dine me first? (i wont)

D4m0cl3s: absolutely not first thing im doing is checking to see if your head can fit through doors, you egomaniac

Cl3m3ntin3: and the second thing?

D4m0cl3s: fucking the rest of that ego out of you ♡♡

Cl3m3ntin3: and they say romance is dead

D4m0cl3s: im not the most romantic of guys

Cl3m3ntin3: i'll pretend im shocked

D4m0cl3s: are we good, clem?

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah we're good im sorry for getting so in my head about things don't even know why i got so pissed about you not being able to imagine me when i literally can't imagine you either lmao

D4m0cl3s: what do you think of when you think of me?

Cl3m3ntin3: honestly?

D4m0cl3s: honestly...

Cl3m3ntin3: your cock lmao i wish i could say something cute like your aura, but i'd simply be lying

D4m0cl3s: for fucks sake haha

Cl3m3ntin3: good cock, at least great cock, some would say

D4m0cl3s: some?

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah not me i'd say average :)

D4m0cl3s: average? AVERAGE?

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah :D

D4m0cl3s: i... do you need reminding or something?

Cl3m3ntin3: no? it's average :) !

D4m0cl3s: the man was too stunned to speak

Cl3m3ntin3: maybe i do need reminding then? could have sworn it was average? maybe even a little smaller?

D4m0cl3s: you are rubbing salt in a wound, miss teeny tiny clementine i've never been more offended

Cl3m3ntin3: hmm... prove me wrong?

D4m0cl3s: i want it on record that i hate you

Cl3m3ntin3: sure you do, baby

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: does this help?

Cl3m3ntin3: a little? not much, though maybe it would help if I had some more context? maybe you should play with it for me a little bit?

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: like this?

Cl3m3ntin3: ooo that's a little better only a little, though maybe more?

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: what about now?

Cl3m3ntin3: maybe you should play with your balls a little? for like... spacial awareness?

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

yeah, that helps that really helps

D4m0cl3s: still average? or does it look like we both know it does?

Cl3m3ntin3: how do we both know it looks?

D4m0cl3s: like it would ruin your tight little cunt

Cl3m3ntin3: damn, damocles you're really coming for me now, aren't you? what happened to my pretty little pussy you love so much? it's cunt now?

D4m0cl3s: you don't want me playing nice right now you wouldn't be telling me i'm below average if you did you want me fucking you like i have a point to prove

Cl3m3ntin3: and what point would that be?

D4m0cl3s: that once i finally get to fuck your (pretty, perfect, fucking incredible) cunt, it's mine mine, and no one else's especially not that friend of yours who got hard looking at you

Cl3m3ntin3: i spy with my little eye something that begins with J (it ends in 'ealousy', suga) sugar** lmao typo

D4m0cl3s: suga on the brain? you a scouts fan?

Cl3m3ntin3: they're fine not what i want to be thinking of right now, tho

D4m0cl3s: my bad well, no, your bad actually who's your favourite member?

Cl3m3ntin3: shuuuuush time and place, babe also i have an idea

D4m0cl3s: go on?

Cl3m3ntin3: you got a bottle close by?

D4m0cl3s: ermmm like water bottle?

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah

D4m0cl3s: i've a chilsung?

Cl3m3ntin3: perfect me too wanna see your hand wrapped around it

D4m0cl3s: .... i have a cock right here and hard for you .... and you wanna see my hand around a bottle?

Cl3m3ntin3: just do it baby

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

oh my fucking god

D4m0cl3s: what?

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

oh holy shit why is your hand so small it doesn't even get around the bottle?????!! i'd literally like... eclipse it

Cl3m3ntin3: uh huh now wrap your hand around your cock you know the size difference now you know exactly what it'd look like

D4m0cl3s: god i'm gonna fucking destroy you arent i

Cl3m3ntin3: uh huh i think so jesus christ i haven't even been touching myself and look at the state of me

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

you did this this is all you

D4m0cl3s: all mine i'm never gonna share you god i gotta fuck you

Cl3m3ntin3: we've literally just had a full entire fuck off conversation as to why you cant

D4m0cl3s: im a boy im stupid i cant be trusted to make such decisions let me fuck you please

Cl3m3ntin3: no, baby you know you can't you gotta be patient

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

think of how well you'll be rewarded

D4m0cl3s: no i gotta fuck you i need to i think i might die if i can't

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

so hard that death is the only option

Cl3m3ntin3: the way you hold it around the base always gets me so fucked up all i can think about is the fact it will look just like that when you guide it into me

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

reckon im wet enough for you?

D4m0cl3s: i think you're wet enough that i'll never need to drink water again so fucking hot literally how the fuck do you even get that wet

Cl3m3ntin3: wish i could tell you truth is you're the only one who's ever got me like that

D4m0cl3s: fuck don't say shit like that, clem im too close

Cl3m3ntin3: you can cum, baby i wanna see it

D4m0cl3s: can i call? i wanna watch you too

Cl3m3ntin3: yes please pretty please

D4m0cl3s: always so good for me, clem ain't no fuckin' way im ever losing this

Cl3m3ntin3: just call me you sentimental prick ;)

Incoming call from D4m0cl3s Accept | Decline (01 minute : 37 seconds) Call ended.

Cl3m3ntin3: im so furious that was a call and not a video you fucking whined WHINED jesus i might cum again just thinking about it

D4m0cl3s: and they say men are easy

Cl3m3ntin3: fuck you, you know you're hot

D4m0cl3s: do i?

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah yeah you fucking do give me all this shit for my ego, but jesus christ you know exactly what you do to me

D4m0cl3s: and you know it's mutual the whine... yeah that wasn't intentional you're just??? unreal????

Cl3m3ntin3: probably a good idea that we don't ever fuck i think i'd stop being able to function like a useful member of society would just want to spend all day in bed with you

D4m0cl3s: you say that as we don't spend a fair amount of our free time doing exactly that just... not together but still together kinda i guess? does that make sense?

Cl3m3ntin3: it makes sense i'm sorry about earlier, still

D4m0cl3s: im sorry, too i know that this isn't like... conventional

Cl3m3ntin3: conventional is boring im gonna go get a shower quickly talk later?

D4m0cl3s: talk later miss u already x

D4m0cl3s is offline

BIG HIT ENT OFFICES Yongsan-gu, Seoul

"You can stop avoiding me, yanno," Jungkook mumbles as he comes to stand beside you.

The grey corridors of Big Hit all look the same, but this one's a little different. It's The Scouts stomping ground; space reluctantly given to them after the success of the last album. Told management they needed studios to work in underdisturbed. Three of them. Tae and Jin didn't care for one - are happy doing their own shit in the dingy old practise room in the basement - but Yoongi, Namjoon and Jungkook all threw tantrums.

Well, less-so trantrums and more-so well put together business plans an ROI graphs for some of the senior bosses. Hoseok was in charge of overseeing it all, and blew far too much budget on it - something of which has bitten them all in the arse, and keeps them tied to their label for longer, but they have freedoms, at least. More than most bands in their field. Oppotunities. Visibility.

At the far end of the corridor, closest to the snack machine, is Jungkook's studio.

There's silence as you watch the packet of chips you just chose drop into the vending chute, with little care for the fact he sounds stroppy. Though you don't look at him, you know he's pouting. Can hear it in his voice.

It's been a few days since he left your apartment and you haven't really spoken since. It's not like it's totally uncommon for you to go a while without chatting, but you are aware that you left a couple memes sent to you on read.

You weren't trying to be a bitch, he just sent them at bad times, and you forgot to reply. Seems as if your lack of consideration has left him overthinking, and you feel a little bad.

You crouch, knees cracking as you do, stuffing your arm into the machine and retrieving your purchases - plural. A packet of chips for you, and banana milk for him. He narrows his eyes as you hold it towards him. You're still crouched, eyes a little wide but impatient.

"Take it or I'll drink it myself, you big baby."

He wants to resist, but he can't. Something just so tempting about banana milk. Gets him every time.

"Was coming to see you, actually," you say as you return to your full posture, knocking your head to the side to indicate you want to walk. He follows your lead like he always does. It explains the banana milk, at least, and makes him feel a little easier. "Just been busy, haven't been avoiding you. Stupid. Anyways, had a meeting today about the next run of shows so thought I'd pop up and say hi before I left."

He hums to let you know he's listening, encouraging you to keep on talking as he reaches the door to his studio. It's pin-protected, so you wait till he's typed in the code to continue - though realistically, you both know you could have just typed it in yourself.

"How'd it go?" He asks, both out of politeness and general curiosity. He's always keen to hear about your life; what's going on with it.

"Yeah, yeah," you nod, entering first and taking a seat in his favourite desk chair as soon as you're inside. You drape your overshirt across the back of it, and ignore the way Jungkook's eyes briefly flitter towards your chest. His gaze doesn't linger, so you don't bother teasing him about it. "All good. Just going over some health and safety stuff."

He pops his banana milk down on the desk. Frowns. Sighs. "Up."

Every single time. Him and his bloody chair.

"But there's another chair right there!" You protest, knowing full well you're in Jungkook's ridiculously overpriced gaming chair, which really has no business being in a music studio - but dear lord if it isn't the comfiest thing you've ever sat on.

"Exactly!" He wails in return. "You, there. Me, here."

The way he gestures his hands makes him look like a flight attendant, all poised and direct, but you don't budge.

"Mhmm-mm," you mumble, trying to eat a chip as Jungkook tugs on your arm. "Me, here. You there!"

"You're gonna get crumbs all over it," he says with such a pout that you can't help but laugh. You know he's got a mini vacuum in his desk drawer precisely for times like these. You know because you're the one who bought it, after the fifth time you'd argued over something as trivial as a few crumbs.

"I won't," you pout right back, then promise, "I'll wipe my fingers."

He's about to say something back, before he realises that you are wiping your fingers - right along the hem of his shirt.

"For fucks sake, you little shit," he moans, wrapping his arm around your head to get you in a headlock. Should have just done this earlier, he thinks. The pair of you struggle for a moment, but he's too bloody strong. You squeal as he drags you off the chair and plonks you down in the spare seat. "Much better."

"You suck," you huff as you kick out at him, but miss as he sits himself down and rolls away with a cheeky little grin on his face.

He's about to reply all rather childishly, but a knock at his door breaks the contact of his eyes on yours.

You're thankful for the interruption. You don't like the way it feels when you look at Jungkook these days. It's a bit... too much.

"Who is it?" Jungkook calls, the frosted glass hiding the intruder, but not really. Even you can make out who it is.

"Yoongi," he calls through, to which Jungkook tells him that he can let himself in. He's one of the chosen few; the secret circle. In all reality, every single one of the boys knows Jungkook's passwords, but he tells himself otherwise. Somehow likes the idea of exclusivity.

"Hey, I- oh," Yoongi begins as he enters the room, stopping as he realises you're there. He's dressed down, a pair of black slacks and a white shirt a fair few sizes too large draped over his shoulders.

Dressed quite a lot like you, actually, though your slacks are fitted and high-waisted, and the white shirt you're in is tight. It clings to your skin, and now that your overshirt is hooked over the back of Jungkook's chair, there's not much hiding your silhouette.

They've both seen you in far less - there's a mutual agreement to never speak of your twenty-third birthday party and the bath debacle - but it's not often you're in anything that doesn't hide you up a little. It's just professionalism, and considering you're mostly around them at work, it makes sense.

But your shirt had ridden up a little from the struggle with Jungkook, and your midriff is distracting for Yoongi, apparently. He stays silent. Looks at you. Looks at Jungkook. Looks at your shirt, which is crumpled by Jungkook. Looks at the mess your hair is in following the headlock. Is unaware of the headlock ever taking place. Adds 2 and 2 and gets 5.

"Didn't realise you had company," Yoongi musters. "My bad."

"Don't mind me," you smile. "I can get gone, if you need time with Jungkook?"

"No, no," Yoongi insists, before turning to focus on Jungkook. The way he cuts the conversation short with you weighs on you. You and Yoongi had never been close, not in the same way you were with Jungkook, but there was a time when you would have been invited along with whatever he needed Jungkook for. Hasn't been that way for a while now, but it still makes you sad. "Just running through that demo you sent over, I've got some notes. I'll be in the studio all evening, so just come by whenever you're... done."

It dawns on you pretty quickly that Yoongi's jumping to conclusions. Your cheeks begin to flame, and you have to stop yourself from awkwardly laughing.

"I'm actually heading off now," you mumble, getting to your feet. The last thing you need is yet another thing for Yoongi to hold against you.

You like to tell yourself it's the whole nepotism thing - and honestly, it's an undeniable part of his disdain for you lately.

But you also know it's something more.

See, there are two things you and Yoongi will never speak of.

The first is your twenty-third birthday party, and the bath debacle that came with it. It was harmless, and he wasn't the only one there - Jimin and Jungkook played their part too - but it's an avoided topic to preserve your dignity more than anything else.

The second thing you will never discuss is the night that never was. The one you both agreed never happened.

When he looks at you, you know he's thinking about it.

But it's your best-kept secret, and you'd quite like to keep it that way, so you make your excuses and leave. Jungkook says bye, and that he'll text later. Yoongi doesn't even really look at you as you leave.

There's a momentum to your heartbeat as you leave the building, your staff pass beeping like a hospital monitor as you go through security. There's a buzz in your back pocket as soon as you're through the doors - not the kind you long for from your Damocles boy, but a just regular kakaotalk message.

When you pull up your phone and see his name, you're surprised, but also a little concerned. You wait until you're at the bus stop to check his messages - and when you do, you wish you never did.

Yoongi (personal): I've said the same to Jungkook as I'm gonna say to you. Think about it from Jin's perspective.

You can't help but laugh at his sheer audacity. Of all people, Yoongi has absolutely no right to berate you, nor your choices. He's completely missed the mark of the relationship between you and Jungkook - and he's really in no place to judge. No place at all.

And so you tell him as such.

You: Not really sure what you're getting at But tell me, Yoongi, did you think about it from Jin's perspective?

You know better than to mention the night that never was. Neither of you have spoken about it for months - a full year, almost - but he deserves to think about it if he's going to be a prick. Deserves to remember. Deserves to have it linger.

You watch as your messages are marked as 'read', and then you mute your notifications from him. How he thinks he has any right to police what you do - and who you do it with - infuriates you. Why waste your time, though? He's been nothing but an absolute arse to you over the past couple of months. Nothing will change it.

The frustration in your mind has you wanting to watch the world roll by. You let the bus you usually board roll on by, opting for the longer route instead. It won't come for another few minutes, but it's not so bad out today. The weather is bearable.

It's as you're waiting - a face of thunder and scowl foul enough to rival even Yoongi's on a bad day - that your phone buzzes. The corner of your lips curl. Cheeks turn pink. It vibrates again. And a third time.

So even though you mentally scold yourself for not waiting until you get home, you find yourself unlocking your phone and heading to Hush.

And sure enough, there he is.

D4m0cl3s: working late tonight

The second message is a picture. Has you gasping. It's a pair of dark trousers, unbuckled, zip down, but still in place - pushed open enough for you to see the thick outline of a bulge in white Calvins.

D4m0cl3s: thinking about you x

A soft laugh escapes your lips, and you forget all about your bad mood.

You reply, a grin on your face so large that you think it could rival a Cheshire cat.

Cl3m3ntin3: and they say romance is dead?? ♡♡

He replies instantly.

D4m0cl3s: i'm not trying to romance you, clem i'm trying to seduce you :) is it working? Cl3m3ntin3: no x D4m0cl3s: what about now??

The picture he sends through is obscene. Belongs in the centrefold of a top shelf magazine. Has you fucking drooling, a light whimper escaping your lips. The harsh wind of a taxi storming by reminds you that you're in public. You look over your shoulder to make sure there's no one walking by - not because you don't want to get caught looking at it, but so you can oogle at it for a little bit longer.

His fingers are wrapped around his thick cock, his grip tight. Like, real fucking tight. His foreskin is pulled down, and there's a small pool of thick precum glistening on his tip. It's so minimal, but so central to the photo that you know it's the main focus. He's letting you know just how horny he is, just how ready he is to fuck himself into you - and he's hoping that your pussy will be leaking like that, too.

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm on my way home can you wait for like 20 minutes? D4m0cl3s: i've got all night, clem take your time i'll be waiting for you Cl3m3ntin3: be home soooooon D4m0cl3s: travel safe, clemmie x Cl3m3ntin3: simp.

#yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #rockstar!yoongi #yoongi fluff #bangtan ff #bts x reader #yoongi masterlist #yoongi x reader #yoongi ff #rockstar!bts #dappleddaisies #byholly #dating app au #rockstar au #myg x reader

637 notes · View notes

dollpqrts · 8 months ago

Text

̽ ̽ PAIRING — Art Donaldson x Patrick Zweig

̽ ̽ SYNOPSIS — In the confines of the New Rochelle Country Club sauna, former best friends and tennis doubles partners find themselves inches apart for the first time in twelve years. It’s the night before they compete against each other in the final match of the Phil’s Tire Town Challenger. With unresolved tension at an all-time high, the heat of the sauna isn’t the only reason for their sweaty bodies or heaving chests. Patrick seeking some sort of reconciliation is met with a displeased Art who can’t quite place where his anger stems from. With The men attempting to hash out past wounds, the steam room is hot and charged with passion, it promises violence or something just as strenuous.

̽ ̽ WORD COUNT — ≈ 3k

̽ ̽ CONTENTS — 18+ SMUT MDNI, HEAVY angst to start, alternate ending of canon scene, vulnerable Patrick, mean asf Art, DEVASTATING argument, sexual tension, YEARNING, minor violence - nothing incredibly graphic, porn with plot and context, public ish sex, slight humiliation, praiseee, bottom ish Art, dirty talk, frot, desperation, internalized homophobia, mentions of Tashi, slight toxicity, hand jobs, blowjobs, biting, and lots of sweat <33

̽ ̽ A/N — This is just super self indulgent, Artrick angst rots my brain daily and I feel like this was the sauna scene we deserved </3 I genuinely haven’t written anything for YEARS sooo go easy on me, but YASS first piece of writing on this blog!! don’t hesitate to send in asks or message me for any tips or advice it would be so appreciated. Looking for friends and mutuals sooo, that too :)) if u enjoy reading pls lmk with a comment, or sending a message, however you’d like xoxo

"I don't matter?"

Patrick Zweig was a figure of confidence, well known to many as much too sure of himself for what he was. For what they thought he was anyway. Confrontation was a fuel to him, something Art knew all too well.

What wasn't widely known, and what slipped Art's memory, something that he used to know through and through, was that Patrick’s bold demeanor was a facade carefully cultivated to mask his doubts. Patrick's internal voice was incessant and worried. A relentless drumbeat. He held a firm grasp on his own identity and emotions, never wavering in his display of self-assurance. However, his greatest fears ruled him through the subconscious of his mind.

He was terrified that the most important people to him were unable to understand the depths of his being, that they only saw his shortcomings. He yearned for a love as profound as what he was capable of. Like a flower reaching for the sunlight, he needed someone who could nourish him completely. A full type of love that could only exist if someone could see him for who he truly was.

In a steam-filled sauna, Art Donaldson found himself seated face to face with his childhood best friend for the first time in twelve years. Since then he had degraded Patrick to just another fleeting relationship from their youth. It irked him that he couldn't simply erase that part of his past. As they sat there, their bodies naked and only their waists covered by towels, Art's gaze flickered over the other's body. Patrick, though lacking Art's discipline, was chiseled like a Greek god, which both aggravated and mesmerized Art.

Art couldn't help but think that Patrick was relishing in the discomfort, deliberately putting them in this vulnerable position. It seemed clear to Art that Patrick was fully aware of the effect he had on him. He grappled with self-disgust, frustrated by his inability to articulate himself, that he was undeniably affected by Patrick's orchestration. The opportunity to assert himself to Patrick was finally here. Yet he was struggling to find his voice.

The sight of Patrick's unclothed body in front of him only added to his agitation, taunting him with feelings he couldn't quite place - a mix of envy and something else he wasn't sure of. His lips folded into a straight line, a mannerism unconsciously borrowed from Tashi. Beads of sweat gathered at his hairline, tension that had nothing to do with the heat of the sauna.

"Not even to the most obsessive tennis fan in the world." Art's voice cut through the thick air, and hung between them, heavy with unspoken history.

Patrick's confident grin faltered as he came to know two things. His much-anticipated showdown with Art provided no consolation for his insecurities, and his greatest fear became reality - Art didn't care anymore, maybe he never really had.

For years, Patrick had stubbornly, willingly endured hunger and homelessness all in pursuit of proving something. That he was worthy of the adoration, the victories, the accolades, and the fame of a star tennis player, he believed he was every bit deserving as Art was of it all. The only person who could truly validate that for him was Art himself. With cruel precision, Art had shattered Patrick into a million pieces.

"We're not talking about tennis," Patrick said softly, his eyes seeking understanding.

Art wondered what Patrick could hope to gain from him. Carving out a new life with Tashi, it took time and effort to move on from his teenage years. With the help of Tashi, he had transformed himself into tennis champion Art Donaldson, the Art that Tashi loved, Tashi Duncan's devoted husband, and the father of her child. He had intentionally buried Patrick in the recesses of his mind, leaving behind the insecurities and emotional bullshit of his youth.

Art scoffed, his voice taking on an edge, "What the fuck else do I have to talk to you about?"

Their exchange became a verbal rally, each word a calculated strike. Art desperately clung to his lead, an invisible audience holding its breath. Was Tashi the unseen umpire, coaching Art like an angel perched on his shoulder? Or had he internalized her so completely that her guidance was no longer necessary to decimate his opponent?

Patrick, completely deflated, realized that the words spilling from Art's lips were not his own. They were out of place, disjointed. How could these words be a product of Art's own mind?

They had shared a world of experiences, yet Art fixated on just one - tennis. It was as though tennis had become the sole defining factor of what they were to each other. While Art and Tashi's love seemed intertwined with the sport, what Art and Patrick had run far deeper than the confines of a tennis court. It transcended tennis entirely. At least, that's how Patrick felt.

"I just wanted to come in here to wish you luck, Art."

Art's eyes narrowed, darting away from Patrick's earnest gaze. Distrust clouded his judgment, unable to fathom Patrick's sincerity. There had to be an ulterior motive. The thought stirred his mind mirroring the windstorm raging just beyond the warmth of the sauna. From Art's perspective, he possessed everything Patrick desired – a hot wife, success, and an endless stream of attention. How could Patrick genuinely wish him luck?

A stroke of luck on Art's end the following day could propel Art Donaldson into the next chapter of his illustrious tennis career and leave Patrick Zweig in the shadow of failure. Art knew that luck was the only thing that kept him ahead of Patrick before, that he'd never actually beaten him, he couldn't shake the feeling that he still needed it to stay there, that he was still depending on it.

"That makes no sense."

Patrick mustered a faint semblance of a smile, "I wanted to tell you that I’m looking forward to it. I miss playing with you."

"Yeah?" Art jumped up suddenly, his towel slipping slightly as he adjusted it and wiped the sweat from his forehead with a quick motion. He inched toward the sauna door, the wooden slats warm under his bare feet. "Well, I don't miss playing with you, man. I'm too old for it."

"Oh, get over yourself, Art," Patrick retorted, his eyes locking onto Art's in a challenging gaze.

"Get over myself? Seriously? Look at you, sauntering in here to rile me up before our match. On some sentimental bullshit. We both know every person at this bumfuck tournament thinks that you're nothing, Patrick. I've worked hard to get where I am, I deserve that win tomorrow. You? You're lazy, using cheap shit like this to get your way. Don't act like you ever gave a damn after all these years - about our relationship, or whatever it is you're trying to say."

Patrick could only shake his head in disbelief as the other man dug into him. "Can you even hear yourself anymore?" Suddenly, he sprang to his feet, grabbing his towel before it hit the floor. Art took a step back, his eyes tracing the movements of Patrick's fingers along the towel.

"Do you get off on some delusion that you're all innocent, living the dream, and that I've gotten my karma or whatever the fuck?"

Closing the gap between them, Art challenged Patrick right back,

"Tell me, how do you see it then, Patrick?"

Patrick inhaled deeply, his body coursing with anxious energy but still able to hold himself firm before the other.

"You abandoned me." he declared, voice quivering despite the intensity behind his words.

The two men stood inches apart, tension crackling between them, suffocated by each other's breath.

"What the fuck do you want me to say to that?" Art's voice dropped, barely above a whisper.

"Go to hell, Art." Patrick hissed, his hot breath caressing Art's face, spit landing on it. Art tilted his head up, meeting Patrick's blazing stare with defiance.

In a blur of motion, Art's fist flew upward. Patrick's head jerked to the right, his hand rising to cradle his jaw as if anticipating the impact. Before Art could strike again, Patrick seized his wrist and held it tightly. Art's grunt of pain morphed into an animalistic growl as he lunged forward, their bodies tangling together in a fight for control.

With raw energy, their muscles strained as they grappled with each other. Sweat-slicked skin slid against skin. Art's chest heaved against Patrick's, their hearts pounding in a frenzied rhythm. Bodies intertwined, locked in a primal dance of dominance. Nails raked across skin, leaving angry red trails that would linger for days. The air was thick, charged with the promise of violence or something equally explosive.

Art's hand found Patrick's throat, fingers pressing into the pulse point. Patrick countered swiftly, fisting a handful of Art's hair and wrenching his head back. His other hand clamped down on Art's shoulder, pinning him in place.

Their faces were less than an inch apart, breath mingling in hot, ragged pants. Patrick's eyes seared right through Art, still for a moment. In a ravenous haze, their lips crashed together. The kiss was brutal, all clashing teeth and battling tongues. Patrick bit hard down onto Art's lower lip causing him to shove Patrick away only to yank him in, entwining their bodies back together.

They devoured each other, hands roaming with desperate need. The world faded elsewhere, leaving only the intoxicating sensation of long-awaited touch, the taste of desire on their tongues. Lost in their universe of violence and passion, they clung to each other, neither willing to back down or let go. Their embrace tightened as if trying to meld into one. The heat of the sauna paled in comparison to the fire ignited between them. Years of pent-up emotion poured out in a torrent of kisses as the men groped one another, each touch electric.

Art's mind was cloudy, "Patrick," he gasped, breaking away. His eyes were wild, conflicted. "We can't—"

Patrick silenced him with another burning kiss. "Don't think," he breathed, chuckling against Art's lips. "Anything but that."

They stumbled backward, their backs hitting the rough wooden wall. Goosebumps prickled across their skin from the impact. Like an animal clawing for control, Patrick's hands were everywhere, feeling every inch of Art's body that he could and holding on tight. Art moaned and gasped under his touch as he pressed his body closer, their throbbing erections pressing together through layers of fabric.

"Yeah, that's right." Patrick whispered huskily, "Feel it, Art. Feel how much you want me." A low, guttural moan escaped Art’s lips as the dirty words caressed his ear. Fear and arousal stormed his mind. He knew that at any moment, someone might innocently walk into the steam room and discover them, but he couldn't bring himself to stop.

Art reached into the waistline of Patrick’s towel grazing delicate fingers over the warmth, groaning at the feeling of him, how big he felt. Patrick took a firm grip on Art's wrist, guiding his hand down the fold of his towel. Patrick's cock sprang free, hard and throbbing, the tip slick with pre-cum. Art swallowed nervously, his throat dry.

Their fingers intertwined tightly, Patrick guided their hands up and down his glistening length. He whispered praises in Art's ear, his other hand removing the towel that had been covering him with ease. It was as if he had been waiting for this moment for years, eagerly anticipating it with every fiber of his being.

Patrick rubbed their cocks together, his grin growing wider as the other's jaw dropped in pleasure. "Look who's all hard for me again," he teased, his voice tinged with a hint of pride. "Remember when we used to do shit like this all the time?"

Art could only weakly nod, the memory of that long-forgotten time when they were still friends, and their hands would roam freely. When they said whatever excuse they could make up just to make everything feel okay, whatever excuses could allow them to have a next time.

“I know you were really thinking about me every time we jerked off together.” Patrick teased, his tongue flicking over Art's neck.

"Stop Pat...that's not true,"

“Oh c’mon, don’t you wanna cum for me just like you used to?”

Patrick pressed on, increasing the speed and pressure of their movements, the friction sending shivers through both of their bodies. Art could barely speak.

“Yes, yes...please,” he begged for release, hardly able to form any coherent words.

Patrick let out a low chuckle, pressing his lips against Art's neck as he tightened his grip over their cocks. Art's hips bucked up involuntarily, biting into Patrick's shoulder to muffle a strangled moan.

"You're the same sensitive little boy you were when we were young" Patrick taunted, twisting his fingers just right.

All Art can do is mindlessly nod his head as he desperately fucked into Patrick's hand-- his mind reeling at the embarrassing little comments Patrick’s making. The warmth of Patrick's cock against his own, the wet and slick of their pre-cum mingling together, his rough stubble pricking the sensitive skin along his neck. He was so close, so close...

“Don’t fucking stop,” His voice took on a demanding, almost threatening tone. His hips rutted up into their interlocked fists as he reached the brink of climax. His other hand dug into Patrick's back, leaving scratches in its wake as he mumbled incomprehensible pleas and praises.

Patrick coached him through it, practically growling in his ear "That's it, fuck my hand Art.”

His body trembling with climax, Art released all over their hands and stomachs, his body hot and red, his chest heaving. Patrick continued to stroke his sensitive cock through his orgasm, pushing him past his limit.

“Oh god, t-too much...” Art groaned, his body twitching with every little touch, yet still needily grinding into Patrick’s palm. He had to push Patrick off of him before he would nearly start crying from the overstimulation.

They collapsed onto the bench just by where they were standing, their bodies glistening with sweat and flushed with exertion. The scent of their arousal filled the air, enveloping them in a sweaty heat. Art's cheeks burned with embarrassment as Patrick continued to stroke his hard cock next to him.

“Why don’t you get on your knees and finish me off, hm?” he suggested with a smirk, “It’s the Least you could do after being so mean.”

Art swallowed thickly, hesitating for a moment before slowly lowering himself onto his knees. Humiliation and desire coursed through his veins. He took Patrick's stiff length in his nervous hand, his tongue darting out to lick the droplets of pre-cum that shone at the tip.

Patrick groaned, his hips jerking forward. "That's it, baby,"

The taste of Patrick's skin and pre-cum lingered on Art's lips as he took him in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the head. The saltiness of his own release was still there, all over his cock. With a trembling hand, Art gripped Patrick's thrusting hips and guided him closer to his mouth. His lips wrapped around the tip, his throat constricting as he tried to take more of him in. Patrick let out a deep groan, gripping the edges of the bench and fingers tangling in Art’s hair as he reveled in the sensation. "Fuck, Art," he panted, his eyes locked on the sight before him. "You’re so good at this."

He silently took in his praise as Patrick's thrusts grew more forceful, driving deeper into Art's mouth with each motion. Feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over him, there was nothing he wanted more than to please Patrick, to make him reach new heights of pleasure that they could only have dreamed of when they were young. He worked with both of his hands and his mouth at the same time, pumping down his length and groping his balls. The room was filled with wet sounds, with Patrick's rough grunts and moans. His throat stretched around Patrick's cock, and tears welled up in his eyes.

"God I've missed you," Patrick exclaimed between ragged breaths. "You look amazing from up here."

Patrick's thrusts became erratic and his breathing grew shallow and strained. With one final plea, he pushed Art's head down and held it there as he reached his climax.

"I'm gonna cum."

Art felt the hot spurts hit the back of his throat, and it took all he had not to gag. He swallowed subconsciously, tasting the bitterness of Patrick's release. Patrick pulled out, his hips twitching sporadically as he fought to catch his breath. With Patrick's orgasm, Art could also feel his own comedown, a shift of realization in him. He swallowed hard, his throat raw with the taste of Patrick. He could feel his tears stained on his cheeks, and he tried his best to wipe them away discreetly. He quickly wiped his mouth as he got up, avoiding eye contact with Patrick. He grabbed his towel from the floor, wrapping it around himself before he sat further down Patrick on the bench.

Patrick, panting and still coming down from his peak, barely had time to react before Art slipped away from him.

“What was that for?”

For a moment, Art didn't answer. He stayed silent, his eyes trained on the floor. “I just needed to clean up.”

“Is that all?” Patrick asked. “Or are you too ashamed to look at me?”

Art didn’t say anything.

Patrick felt the change in Art's demeanor, the shame that seemed to radiate off of him. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Trapped in awkwardness. Patrick cleared his throat, the sound echoing in the tense quietness.

"So, uh, you're letting me win tomorrow right?"

Art's forced laugh didn't reach his eyes, the weight of their earlier exchange still pressing on him.

"Oh Fuck off man…" he grumbled, burying any hint of vulnerability from before. His towel tightened in his grip, damp fabric biting into his skin as he pushed away the memory of the fleeting intimacy they had shared. The moment was gone now, and so were any traces of tenderness or closeness between them.

“I meant every word that I said.” Art’s voice trembled with conviction. Without another glance, he stormed out of the sauna, leaving Patrick naked and by himself in the leftover sex and stifling heat of the room. All Patrick could do was sit there, his fingers tapping nervously against his knees.

#₊˚ ʚ by nads ɞ #challengers 2024 #artrick rotting my brain #challengers #art x patrick #artrick #art donaldson #patrick zweig #art donaldson fanfic #patrick zweig fanfic

96 notes · View notes

harrowharr0w · 6 months ago

Text

this stupid website has been making me unfollow people. if i unfollow you and we’re mutuals please tell me 🙏🙏

updated intro whee bored of the old one!!! hello hii u can call me liu or make up a name idrc

most art is tagged with #art but i forget sometimes

u can always tag me in anything i love being tagged

i will occasionally switch out the art on here if i get bored

IMPORTANT

guys if you ask me to draw something im really soryr ig i dont finish it fast i promist im drawing them asap also imjust doing them for fun so pls font expect like a whole finished piece (most of the time)

ok anyways i like milgram, reverse 1999, cardcaptor sakura, bandori, project sekai, d4dj, paradox live, little witch academia, witch hat atelier, yotsuba&!, yorushika, phantom siita, alien stage, vocaloid, pink bxxch club, k-on, fragaria memories, the great ace attorney, n probably more that i forgot :D pls talk to me if u like literally any of those (begging)

i am a minor n i speak english and some chinese :33 i like drawing too!!!

pls ask me to draw stuff i luv drawing stuff yayayayy byebye

new addition,, please only send drawing reqs to my inbox pls!! i probably won’t do them if you dm me!

i am new to this website so pls excuse me if i do anything wrong :)

follow my cool awesome incredible sideblog for pjsk ghost hotel au: @nothauntedsekai

i also run @dailyhinahikawa because we need more hina hikawa love in the world <3 i often post doodles there so go check that out

im also @sualuvr because ueah

edit: look at my awesome cool strawpage send me reqs or drawings or anything

64 notes · View notes

bunni-v1 · 1 year ago

Note

idk if this counts as a story idea but may I request Lillia x child human reader. It was during the fae and human war and you were his kid but got ripped away by the humans from the war and years later you reunite.

Stay safe pls!! <33

Lost and Found

TW: War Trauma!; Lilia does stalking again but only a little; You look like Lilia

Info: Lilia x Reader (familial); Angst with a happy(?) ending; Not cannon compliant; Not my finest piece my bad guys

🍓I LOVE writing Lilia. I started writing him for Cureé and I realized how silly he is. I was a bit lost on how to go about writing this since canonically Lilia didn’t know how to (or didn’t know he could) love until Malleus. But… tbh making shit up is what fanfic is for lol.

Fae can only be born through love. That was a fact that all Fairies knew. You could not produce a child unless there was mutual love. So, it was quite a surprise when General Lilia found himself stuck with a child who looked a little too much like him for it to be a coincidence.

He was not capable of love, at least… he didn’t think he was. He had no clue who could’ve mothered you — he had no idea who he loved, except the princess of course, but she did not love him back… Without your mother, what was he supposed to do? He was a General and he was in the midst of a war — how could he have time to raise a child?

He would’ve dropped you off on someone else’s doorstep, making you another unsuspecting person's responsibility. When he looked into your big red eyes, he knew he couldn't. You didn’t ask to be born just like he didn’t ask for you. Whether he liked it or not, you were his responsibility and he was just going to have to live with that fact.

So after drills and horrific blood-filled battles where he lost hundreds of soldiers, he would return home to you.

You were old enough to be walking and talking, and boy did you walk and talk. You wandered around his small quarters and babbled on and on about things he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. It was annoying, at first. He was used to silence when he was alone — he treasured it. You did not.

Still, he put up with it because he didn’t have a choice.

He would make you little meals — none of which looked all that… delectable, but you scarfed them down like they were the best things you’d ever had. Maybe they were.

Eventually, he began talking to you — about his troubles, about his day, about his workload. It didn’t matter, because you would sit there and listen attentively to everything he had to say and respond with the best sentence you could muster for your age.

He hated to admit it, but he came to care about you. He liked spending time with you after his long day, and worried about you while he was gone. Each milestone you crossed filled him with a sense of pride he’d never gotten on the battlefield. He adored each hair on your head, even when your little hands were tugging too hard on his own while you tried to practice braids.

He even began to teach you magic and loved how your face would light up when you got a spell right.

The both of you would go for runs together in the forest, and your long black hair — so much like his — would flow in the wind.

When it would storm, you would cry until he wrapped you up in a blanket and held you tight in his arms.

He would’ve been happy with this little life he had with you. He could’ve lived his days out like this and been satisfied.

War tears families apart, though. War does not have favorites. War doesn’t discriminate.

He should’ve known better, he should’ve been more careful, he should’ve moved you as soon as he knew humans were in the area. He didn’t, though. He left you there and promised you that he would be right back. He promised you that he’d keep you safe.

He rarely failed his missions, but this one he had. He came back to his home ransacked and you gone.

He searched for hours: Nothing.

He screamed your name until his throat was raw: Nothing.

He begged his men and friends to look: Nothing.

It was one of the few times in his life he cried. It was one of the only times that he could not stop. The little family portraits you’d made served as cold reminders of what he had lost. He could hardly handle looking at anything that belonged to you, so he locked it away in a little box and hadn’t opened it since.

That was centuries ago, and Lilia had long since moved on from his loss. He only hoped that the humans did not kill you — that they had enough humanity to let a child survive, even if you were his. That, maybe, you were still happy and alive out there.

He used what he learned from you to raise his boys — who were his pride and joy. Still, he missed you every time that Malleus would proudly show him a drawing of their little family. Or when Silver looked at him in excitement after finally perfecting a spell.

You would’ve loved your younger brothers, he was sure of it. If only you could be there to see what they’ve all achieved.

Still, they grew and time passed until eventually Malleus and Silver were both attending NRC. Lilia joined them — half to keep Malleus safe, half because it seemed like a fun idea. He had seen most things in his life, so there were few surprises left that could actually surprise him.

Seeing Malleus chatting with a near-carbon copy of himself, however, did quite the number on his old heart.

You were short — still taller than him, unfortunately — and had grown your hair out so you could put it up in a ponytail. Long like his used to be. Your red eyes seemed to sparkle in such a familiar way. His heart and his head couldn’t take the shock, so he slipped away before he could be spotted.

He continued to observe from a distance, trying to convince himself that he was wrong. That it could not be you after all these years. Everything proved him wrong. The way you talked, your mannerisms, and your love for art. Especially your keen eye.

When you cornered him in between classes was when he really knew it was you. You had a scowl on your face that could scare off any trained soldier. It was his scowl.

“Are you going to explain why you’ve been following me all this time, or am I gonna have to use force,” you said, just as he might’ve so many years ago.

He didn’t have much of a defense, so he improvised, “I like your art, watching you draw is interesting.”

“That's…” He was busted, “a bit creepy… If you liked my art you could’ve just talked to me, I know I’m a little scary looking but I don’t bite.”

Thus began the ruse of art-loving Lilia. The two of you would meet up around campus and he would watch you sketch these elaborate drawings like it was nothing. He always knew you would be a talented artist.

He got to know you again. Got to see what you liked, and what you didn’t like, and learned that you couldn’t taste — which explains why you ate his cooking so happily. He found out that you were saved by a loving human family who not only adopted you but did their best to let you learn about your origins. He knew you were loved in the way that you were meant to be — in the way he never would’ve been able to during that time.

It helped heal his heart enough that he was able to go through that little box of your stuff that he had kept for so long. He had missed looking at the little drawing of you and him you’d given him for his birthday.

Truthfully, he thinks you forgot all about him, and he was okay with that. Less pain for you to suffer through. Then, one day, that changes.

The pair of you were in his room because he had this cool piece of architecture you were dying to sketch out in person. He had left the room for only a few moments, but when he came back you were focused on his desk, and he realized that he did not put things back into the box like he usually did the night prior. You were staring at one thing in particular, the picture you drew all those years ago.

“I apologize for the mess,” he sounded behind you, but you didn’t react.

Instead, you picked up the little picture yourself to examine it closer. The silence as you observed the piece made Lilia’s skin crawl.

Finally, you turned to him with an awkward smile, “This is gonna sound crazy, 'cause we’re both college students, but… did you ever have kids — like, your own kids?”

Unsure of how to respond, he muttered, “Once.”

“Were they taken by humans,” you followed up.

“A long, long time ago.”

“This is probably a stretch, but, do you think that maybe you could be my dad…?”

He didn’t respond for a long moment, face going stiff as if he was once again that young soldier who found you crying on his doorstep after your mother abandoned you. You bit your lip nervously, unsure of what to do yourself when he was looking at you like that.

“It was just a stupid question, I’m sorry,” he didn’t respond, “I’ll go. Sorry.”

As you began to walk out, his mind came back to him and he kicked into full gear, “Wait, no, I’m not upset. Please… sit, let’s talk.”

Talk you did. About him and his life. How you disappeared and how he searched for you for so long. Then about his boys, and how much he loved them and how badly he wished that he could tell all of you the truth. You cried as hard as you could, and he swaddled you up as best as possible and wrapped you up in his arms — like he always used to do. He cried too, the hardest he had in his entire life. Because you were safe, and because you were reunited with him.

At some point, you asked, “Did you miss me?”

He could only respond, “Every single day.”

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #bunni's treats 🧁#lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge

393 notes · View notes

yotaasuke · 10 months ago

Text

it literally came out in march im in the trenches rn

The struggles of watching a random small German sitcom on its first season with no English translation 💔💔💔 I cannot find anyone else who had watched it

#i only watched it bc of pure coincidence #its about a gym???#someone pls watch pumpen on zdf for me #my one german speaking mutual #nana <33

3 notes · View notes

puppygirl-freak · 2 months ago

Text

(updated 02/04/25!)

♡ 18 ♡ bisexual (t4t exclusive!) ♡ owned by my beloved mommy !! <<33

DNI minors/no age in bio/pin, z00, p3do, inc3st, scat, piss, detrans, ed, sh

dni sexually if ur cis, but we can be friends! <3 ^w^

bunny therian by day, lil puppy girl by night! call me bun, or pup, or any cutey things you want!

into lots of stuff! but specifically not into scat, piss, and age play.

if interested in bein moots or interacting read under cut! ♡

haii!! i love all interactions, yap at me allll you want say silly gross things to me call me names, asks open for basically anything!! <3 (t4t only! <3) dms for mutuals only!

only rule: be respectful if i say no! (or we can work out a safe word together ;3 but pls also respect safe words too..) (i am a brat so if u cant tell the difrence from me bein a brat nd me actually saying no pls talk abt a safeword with me)

this isnt a side blog so i will follow back if u seem cool!! ♡

i like alot of stuff but this is what i can remember off the top of my head!

petplay!

sub/dom dynamics!

praise/degrading!

cnc rp!

anything a bit rough!

uhhh probs anything u can think of ^^ <3

#bd/sm kink #t4t bd/sm #t4t puppy #ftm puppy #t4t sub #puppy pl4y #t4t nsft #ftm nsft #trans nsft #nsft #t4t

38 notes · View notes

abiiors · 1 year ago

Text

twelve days of christmas

okay, i'm back again because i had so much fun in october! but this time it's a bit different—as you can see, there are only 12 prompts and not 31 so you can have a bit more flexibility about when you want to post :)

no rules as such—you can write 1 or 2 or all 12 and post them any time in the month of december. once again, i'm posting this a month in advance so people have the time to plan + write

i hope you guys participate again and i would absolutely love to read your fics so pls tag #christmas75 if you use these <33

typed list of prompts under the cut

1] secret santa 2] we went to winter wonderland 3] under the mistletoe 4] nightmare before christmas 5] naughty vs nice 6] gingerbread house 7] all i want for christmas 8] eggnog and mulled wine 9] snowed in 10] ugly sweater party 11] home for christmas 12] midnight kisses

(ps: i made these for me and my mutuals in the 1975 fandom but if you want to use these for other fandoms, please feel free to do so :) however i'd really appreciate if you didn't use the christmas75 tag <3)

#reblogs are really appreciated <3 #the 1975 #matty healy #ross macdonald #george daniel #adam hann #christmas prompts #christmas #christmas75 #winter prompts #writing prompts #christmas writing prompts #christmas writing challenge #12 days of christmas #winter #writing prompt

166 notes · View notes

hannieehaee · 1 year ago

Text

SINGING LOW (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: despite everyone within the industry knowing mingyu to date around a lot, what didn't meet the public's eye was his undying crush on you, his label mate, and his need to fill the you-shaped hole in his heart with any girl who'd give him the time of day.

content: idol!mingyu x hybeidol!reader, pining, mingyu's kind of a slut, smut, afab reader, reader is a 97 liner, dry humping, a lot of made up shit abt the industry lmao, mentions of other idols, oral sex (f and m receiving), penetrative sex, angst, fluff, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 1.7k (teaser) 13k (full fic)

FULL FIC HERE

Or you can check it out on my ko-fi today by subscribing here and going on the fic here

a/n: this is not connected to my lil idol!mingyu x idol!reader series just fyi <3 also i decided to open a ko-fi!! (stop booing me pls T-T) here's a link to the details! anyways hope u enjoy this ive been thinking of this trope for a while <33

masterlist

Mingyu could still remember the day he met you. Well, maybe not met, but it was the first time he ever saw you face to face. It was at some awards show back in 2017. MAMA, was it? Or maybe the MMAs? Well, that didn't matter much. All he knew is that on stage, you had caught his eye.

It was only about a year into his debut, so he still wasn't too used to this scene. He simply sat back and enjoyed the pretty sight in front of him, knowing your group (and you) by name, but not having had the pleasure of meeting you personally by then. He hadn't met many people thus far, actually. At the time, most of his friends in the industry consisted of the twelve other members of his group. Coming from a small company, it had been hard for any of the members to begin to disperse and befriend their peers in the industry. Sure, they all had friendly acquaintances with other idols, but nothing could really compare to what they had with one another.

It wasn't until somewhere around 2017 that Mingyu had finally found a group of friends outside of his twelve members that he could trust. He had always been an outgoing guy, befriending anyone who'd look his way. He reasoned that someone had to be the icebreaker in every social situation, and he had given himself that job. Despite being a charismatic extrovert, however, most of these friendships did not stick. He developed many acquaintances, and maybe even situational friendships, but he had not really considered anyone a friend until meeting one Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook was simply the tip of the iceberg. Some believed Mingyu had taken the man under his wing, while others believed the opposite, but it had in fact been a mutual aid. They had both felt a bit lost at the time they met, bonding over the many things their lives had in common. Their age being one of them. At first it was thrown around as a joke, the idea of forming a little group with the many other 97-liners within their industry. But that joke became reality soon after when Mingyu had met Yugyeom backstage during his group's most recent comeback at the time. The three soon became four, taking in a Cha Eunwoo, and then a Jaehyun from NCT. Even some of Mingyu's own members joining, having the privilege of being born on the great year of 1997. This was how you eventually entered the picture.

Mingyu had already known you, well, more so known about you. Despite being the same age, you had debuted a couple of years before Seventeen, which gave him the opportunity to get to know you as an idol before he did personally. He still remembered the days in the green basement, watching comeback shows with the members as they prepared for their own debut. There had been a specific day when your group had been presenting their newest comeback, which was also the day Mingyu first caught sight of you. You had caught his eye immediately. There was just something about you. He might've developed a slight interest in you from that moment on, hoping for the day in which he would become one of your peers.

Upon debuting, Mingyu had only seen you in passing for the first few years, the closest contact being a quick and informal introduction between your groups as you cruised through the backstage hallways of MNET. You looked even better in real life, he had to admit. But sadly, there was no one-on-one interaction between you that day. Nor was there during any of the following encounters throughout the next few years. It wasn't until a few years into the creation of the 97 squad that Mingyu had the pleasure of meeting you personally.

It was sometimes Jungkook who brought in new members to the friend group, but it was mostly Mingyu who would take the liberty of befriending the aforementioned members in order to introduce them into the group. It was mostly due to Mingyu's extroverted personality, which allowed him to strike up conversation with anyone at any time, unlike Jungkook who was a bit shier in that aspect. It had been Jungkook, however, who had first introduced the two of you. It had been backstage of MAMA or MMA, he wasn't completely sure. Mingyu also wasn't sure how you and Jungkook had met; he'd never bothered to ask, but upon your first meeting it had seemed like the two of you were close friends already. Mingyu had to admit that upon that first assumption, he was a bit jealous of his proximity to you. This was immediately followed by the realization that maybe Mingyu's previous infatuation in you went further than mere interest in you as a fellow idol, but it was maybe a bit of a crush. Regardless of what Mingyu had felt at the moment, he knew that he wanted to see you again.

For some unknown reason, you were not present in the following 97 gathering soon after your introduction. This struck Mingyu as strange, seeing as you were also a 97, and a friend of Jungkook's, so why would you not be present? It was soon after revealed to Mingyu that you had yet to be offered a spot in the now renown 97 squad. Jungkook had assessed that all the dating rumors that would come attached to the inclusion of a girl in the group were simply not worth it. He wanted to save you both the headache and the scandal. It seemed like a pretty reasonable decision. Mingyu, however, was not the most reasonable of people, often allowing his decision-making to be led by impulse rather than calculated choices. Which was why Mingyu had found himself walking up to you next time he spotted you at yet another comeback show, promptly asking you if you'd like to meet some of his friends sometime in the following week, claiming it was tradition for all 97s to go for a drink every other week. He felt like he was inviting you to join into a cult, or at least that's what you said to him it had felt like. But you had still agreed, giving him your number so that you could be privy to the details of the meeting.

Your admission to the friend group came very naturally, having already met a few of the members and easily befriending the rest. Yes, it had come with some controversy at first, but Mingyu had come to learn that you were quite strong-minded, not allowing a few rumors to get in the way of your personal life. It was easy for the two of you to grow close after that. Despite having befriended the entirety of the group, you and Mingyu seemed to form a more special bond, even seeking each other's company outside of group gatherings. It was all platonic, of course. Mingyu had quickly realized you did not seem interested in that way, so he tucked his crush deep within him, choosing to offer a friendship to you instead, never speaking of his crush to anyone. This was how the two of you came to become best friends.

This repression of his feelings, however, did not come without its consequences.

Mingyu was a hopeless romantic at heart. This meant that his crush never really went away. It actually worsened over the years that he knew you. But you never acted like anything other than a friend to him. You would always treat him the same way you did Jaehyun or Eunwoo. He was just another one of the members of the friend group to you. Yes, you two were closer in nature – calling each other the best of friends within the industry – but Mingyu did not want to risk that closeness just because of a selfish crush.

The repression of his feelings was also met with other things. Mingyu was a very loving man. He needed to express his love to everyone around him or he would physically explode (Okay, not really, but he swore that's what it felt like to him). He had a loving family to tend to by taking care of them financially and spending every waking minute away from work with. He had his thirteen best friends to shower with playful affection during and out of work. He had his 97-liners to play around with in between work schedules. What he did not have, however, was that one person who was his and only his. Someone to give the type of love that you reserve for only that one special person in your life.

Mingyu found himself seeking this person out since the beginning of time. Many would call Mingyu a womanizer or a player due to the high volume of relationships he had been involved in during his life. It wasn't like that, however. Not at all. Mingyu would date a girl he liked, would be happy with her, but would ultimately realize that the spark he was looking for was not there, causing him to regrettably end the relationship. He was often met with curses directed his way, but he felt it was best to try and end it amicably if he did not see a future there.

His most recent relationship had been with a former staff member. She was funny and sweet, and also pretty easy on the eyes. They got along very well when she first got assigned to Mingyu as part of his personal team. It started as a friendship, but it didn't take long for Mingyu's hopeless romantic tendencies to seek her out in a romantic way, something to which she obviously agreed to immediately. Mingyu had no issue getting women on his side. He had never dealt with rejection all his life. Being handsome, talented, funny, and even rich from a young age, it was rare to be met with anything but enthusiastic responses left and right. The relationship did not end amicably, however. Mingyu should've known better than to date someone who technically worked for him. I mean, he had been through this before (with one stylist, one MNET staff member, and a former Pledis recruiter to be specific), so he should've known by now that mixing business with pleasure was a bad idea. But his romantic tendencies couldn't be helped. He had too much love to give, and no one to give it to.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #seventeen #svt #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #seventeen smut #svt smut #mingyu fanfic #mingyu x reader #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenario #mingyu smut

916 notes · View notes

heldbykento · 8 months ago

Text

⋆୨୧˚ — “LET ME SHATTER INTO YOU”⋆˚

word count: 1332

no warnings just some light angst :3 cheater!choso x lovesick!reader, kinda ooc (woopsie)

author’s note: guys i didn’t proofread this and i was half asleep writing it!!!!!! i might delete this LOL so if ur seeing this rn ily and pls lmk if it sucks! goodnight <33

the relationship you and choso had was straight out of a romance novel. you could brag to your minimal amount of friends about how you two never argued, and mean it.

sure, you bickered about opinions you didn’t agree on but, that’s just normal shit that happens to everyone. choso refused to ever argue with you, he only “communicated”.

meaning he would sit you down in your guys’ living room and talk to you about whatever bothered him, while trying not to cry in front of you.

you thought it was sweet, how vulnerable he was and how he wasn’t afraid to show emotions. thought it was romantic.

—

“choso.” you said bluntly as you stood behind where he was seated on the couch, staring at his back with your phone clutched in your hands; knuckles plastered white.

a week prior to this situation, you were with a friend in the library of your university… studying for God knows what. when suddenly she just, stares at you as if she’s about tell you someone close to you died.

“y/n, i need you to listen to me and you can’t like, go nuts or anything, okay?” she said to you with a very worried expression, more-so scared than sympathetic.

you gave your friend a raised brow, laughing nervously at the situation because it seemed very out of the blue. everything was going great, end of your junior year of college and you’re passing every class, you got a promotion at work, and…

you and your boyfriend were doing great, right?

“okay,” your friend started off by asking you a simple question. “do you know someone named ‘yuki’?”

she explains that when she was out with some classmates at a bar, someone dragged their mutual friend along named, “yuki” and she was bragging about this guy she was seeing. saying how he had a girlfriend but she didn’t know, and she would never know.

saying that the relationship was “loveless” and he was so bored. but couldn’t muster up the courage to leave.

your friend gave you a look, as if she wanted to say something but she knew how you were. so she didn’t. you just stared at her in silence for a moment, chewing on the inside of your cheek, nails digging into your palms.

—

now you’re here, staring at the back of your soon-to-be ex-boyfriends head. tears welling up in your eyes and a huge lump forming in your throat. but you couldn’t cry, you had to keep your utmost composure because you can’t cry over a cheater, how would your mother feel? you had to be strong.

you can’t cry. even though you have been up almost every night since then in the bathroom, seated on the floor, head in your hands, opposite from the door so he wouldn’t hear your aggressive sobs.

“what’s up, baby?” choso asked, not looking up from his laptop. when you just stood there in silence, not answering his question, he eventually turned around to meet your cold, teary-eyed stare.

the way he could still call you that name without an ounce of guilt, it made you feel like someone had just pierced a thousand daggers into your heart.

his brows furrowed in confusion, when he noticed your unusual expression, he stood up and made his way towards you. “y/n, what’s wrong?” he asked you softly, reaching for your hands but you keenly pulled them away before he could even touch you.

“how long?” you muttered, staring up at choso and reluctantly taking a small step back from him, the way he was so close to you made you want to throw up. because you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he was this close to another woman. holding her the way he would hold you, putting his lips on hers the same way he always did to you. saying all the things he said to you, to her.

again, he gave you a very puzzled look. as if you were speaking to him in a completely different language. “baby, what are you talking about?” he asked in a more whined tone, reaching for your hands again, then sighing in defeat when you would pull away. it wasn’t like you to act this way, not with him. so he was completely dumbfounded.

“y/n why won’t you hold my hand, can you talk to me, baby, please?” he tried to step closer to you, and the situation was overwhelming you. your heart was beating out of you and your ears started to ring, you couldn’t control the tears anymore.

why did he do this? what did she have that you didn’t? how could he throw away 5 years of a relationship for some girl? who even was she?

all these questions and you desperately needed answers. but how could you get answers if you could barely even look at him, let alone finish your conversation.

“how long have you been seeing her, choso?”

silence. so silent you could hear the fan running in the other room.

he stared at you. frozen in place with his eyes wide, like a deer in headlights.

“please, just answer me, please. please… tell me it isn’t true. tell me you still love me.”

the silence that fell between the two of you for so long was deafening. you could hear him swallow dryly from how dead it was. he just stared at you, as if you had said something so out of this world.

but the silence was all you needed to prove your point. he didn’t truly love you. something in your brain told you that if he did love you, he would speak up and explain himself. reassure you that this wasn’t true and that he loved you so much. he could never do something so inhumane. but he’s a man. what’d you expect? for him to be different? to treat you in a way you thought you deserved?

he couldn’t stand watching you cry like this in front of him, he knew what he did. he knew what he was doing while he was doing it. and he couldn’t explain to you why.

choso just couldn’t give you the answers you wanted. and it broke his heart to see his perfect girl choking out sobs because of his shitty decisions.

“y/n. i— i don’t know why i did it. i can’t give you an explanation. i just…” he looked away from you, not being able to look into your big, glossy and sad eyes. he was a coward. he couldn’t deny it.

you couldn’t help feeling like your world was ending, like the earth stopped spinning. his words were like a punch to the gut.

you were just punishing yourself, thinking what could you have done to make him happier, constantly comparing yourself to that blonde doll who swept him away in ways you never could.

there was no fixing it. the both of you went to bed away from each other that night, him on the couch and you, clutching a pillow at your chest and crying into it until you fell asleep at a late hour.

he had snuck into bed eventually, the way he held you in his arms made you tense up. as upset as you were, you needed it the most right now. you were pretending to be asleep, but his presence behind you woke you up almost immediately.

choso had muttered something into the back of your neck, a soft apology. pleading for you to stay with him and forgive him. his lips were brushing against your skin with every word, almost as if he was praying to get you back. he needs you in his life, he knows that and he’ll never be afraid to admit it.

regardless of the lust he poured into that other woman, it will never compare to the love and passion he feels towards you, his perfect girl.

his one and only.

#kirrnz #choso kamo #choso x reader #jjk choso #jutusu kaisen x reader #yuki x choso #choso x y/n #fan fiction #writing #angst #light angst

48 notes · View notes

143hyunes · 2 years ago

Text

Cacoethes

pairing: hyunjin x fem reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut (Minors DNI !!)

summary: So in conclusion: Hyunjin was not a creep. He just had a weird obsession with the stranger in the train. Hyunjin was an inquisitive person, which is why his favourite past time was observing people in the train. He would spend his way back home observing people and forgetting about them as soon as he left the train. So why couldn't he forget you?

playlist. ao3.

warnings: strangers to friends to lovers, non-idol au, childpsychologist!hyunjin, alternating POVs, extreme pining (hyunjin is a simp), y/n is afraid of the dark, descriptions of a panic attack, hand holding (this is not the victorian era i swear), mutual pining, clubbing, mentions of puking, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), cum eating, fingering, nipple play, marking, protected sex, shower sex, dirty talk, faking an orgasm, mentions of a car accident, mentions of death (none of the MCs), ghosting

wordcount: 10k

a/n: my entry for the skzwritingcafe event for May-June. i hope you guys like it <33 this oneshot is kind of inspired by 500 Days of Summer (very loosely). pls leave feedback & reblog and lmk if there are any mistskes, enjoy!

cacoethes

noun RARE

an urge to do something inadvisable

an insatiable desire : mania

Day 1

There was a small but certain happiness in travelling by a train, though it is an inconvenience for many daily commuters during rush hours, Hyunjin loved it maybe because he travelled during the late hours, when there weren’t many people on the train but enough. He liked listening to music and daydreaming or observing people on the train from different walks of life. He always came to the conclusion that at the end of the day, even though everyone was different, the situations and problems they went through were similar which made them like-minded individuals.

It was just another ordinary day, Hyunjin was listening to one of his favourite ballads that day. Whenever one song ended and the silence that ensued till another song played, brought him back to the real world, giving him a reprieve from his mind, reminding him that a world existed outside of his mind. This silence was a kind of faux silence, not loud but definitely enough to arouse him of his surroundings. Today however, there was a different sound that entranced him.

Your laughter that was like a siren song on treacherous waters, demanding his attention. Whatever song played next seemed to ebb away as he looked for the source of the sound that was like music to his ears.

You were reading a book that was in your lap, he assumed that it must have been the reason for your laughter. He couldn’t look away from you, how your hair fell on your shoulders, encasing your face that was concentrated on the book, the furrow of your brows, all this making you look adorable.

That night when he went home, after freshening up, Hyunjin sat in front of the TV, the TV was on but the voices faded into the background as he thought of the stranger in the train, seemingly so oblivious of the world around her. No sound or movement was enough to break you away from the imaginary world you were seemingly in.

Hyunjin never understood people who would cry, laugh or get angry over books or tv shows and movies alike, because for him no form of media had ever evoked such emotions in him. Hyunjin reasoned that the only reason you wouldn’t escape his mind was due this empathy that he seemed to lack, there’s always envy in the absence of something. Yes, that’s all it was jealousy in the wake of humane curiosity, at least that’s what he told himself when he woke up dreaming about you.

»»———-　　———-««

Day 8

Hyunjin was not a creep, he was just an observer, it was kind of his job to observe and help people wherever needed. He had always been like this, not much of a speaker, quietly listening. His big eyes always curious and absorbing everything around him, like a natural instinct. Him studying you was no different than the other times he would observe strangers in the train, putting them in categories that he had made up. That’s what he had deluded himself into believing, reality however was a bit different.

You were different, he didn’t find himself looking for the silhouettes of other strangers on the daily, like he did with you. It had been 8 days since he first saw you and yet he couldn’t look away. It had become second nature, to observe you everyday, reading a book every time.

Your red nose was the first thing he noticed about you today and then the drops of tears on your cheeks that he wanted to wipe away.

What?

Hyunjin had no idea where that stream of thought came from,”Stop thinking about unassuming strangers in inappropriate ways. Seriously, get a grip on yourself man.”, he thought to himself.

The reasoning he gave himself for such thoughts was that it was his nature to want to comfort people in distress as a Psychologist and it’s not like he would act on his thoughts. So in conclusion: Hyunjin was not a creep. He just had a weird obsession with the stranger on the train.

When the internal monologue in his brain had quieted down, Hyunjin noticed the title of the book you were reading,’Before the coffee gets cold’, when you lifted the book to wipe away your tears and he made a mental note to look up the book on the internet later when he reached his house.

He didn’t really read novels but he was curious about what made you cry, especially on public transportation.

He was an emotional person but didn’t cry easily. Maybe this book would evoke emotions in him that he had buried deep down.

»»———-　　———-««

Day 13

You had had a bad day at work today and just wanted to get lost in the world of one of your romance novels to wash away the stress of what was a tedious day of work. You loved your job as the assistant marketing manager and being part of the graphic design team, you really did, but your co-workers were hellbent on testing your patience like no one ever had. But you couldn’t just shun your duties, especially not if they were direct orders from your superior, which was to babysit the new intern and clean up after his mistakes.

You would understand if it was just one mistake but he fucked up three times, posting the wrong ad campaign on the official social media account and consecutively deleting it.

You had to take the fall for it obviously because he was working under you. You had to hold your tongue too because the moron had gotten his internship through nepotism and his relative was a higher up in the company. Office politics really were the bane of your existence and you vowed to dismantle hierarchy in the office (who were you kidding, you can’t even speak up when the waiter messes up your order).

You inwardly cursed yourself for choosing an office job.

You wouldn’t say you were eager to travel from the train everyday, you didn’t care much for public transport. Yes, using it was good for the environment and all that but that’s not why you used it. Driving after a long day of work was stuff out of a nightmare for you. You saved money on gas and didn’t have to buy a car too.

Plus you really liked reading your favourite books on the train, it was very different from your reading nook in your home, a different kind of good. You liked getting lost in a world other than yours, it felt like a reward somehow.

That morning in the train, you had just gotten to the part where things were starting to get interesting in your novel but unfortunately you reached the station for your office.

You couldn’t wait to pick up where you left off that morning.

“Lift your hips for me, love.”, reading that line had single handedly made you lose any shred of sanity you had left, you would scream into a pillow if you could. The book didn't have any explicit scenes in it but the overall sexual tension and buildup was, in your opinion, more satisfying and arousing to read than any explicit scenes. You really loved reading about people falling in love and slow burns.

The giddy smile on your face however faded when the train screeched to a stop and everything went dark. You could feel your throat closing up, like it was closing in on itself.

Making you slowly lose control over your breathing and the small train compartment suddenly felt too hot. Your heart was beating so fast as if you had run a thousand miles a minute.

You felt like you were drowning when you heard someone asking you to focus on their voice, pulling you out of the water.

“I need you to focus on my voice and list 4 things you can feel.”, the deep voice said.

You listed them out: A firm hand under your right palm, your book, the kind stranger’s soft breathe, your clothes.

“Okay, now can you please list 3 things that you can hear?”

“Your voice, something tapping against metal, the sound of my heart.”

“You’re doing great! Now list two things you can smell.”

“My perfume and sweat.”

“You’re okay now. List one thing you can taste.”

“My saliva?”

He chuckled at your answer that actually sounded like a question, the sound of his chuckle was like a hug of comfort in the daunting darkness.

The train was moving again and the light was back in the next five minutes. You realised that you were still holding onto his arm and quickly released your grip on it, profusely apologizing for gripping it so tight that it left marks on his soft skin.

Gosh, just how much could you embarrass yourself in a single day!

He smiled a smile that could rival the brightness of a thousand suns and said that it was okay and asked if you were feeling better now.

He was really pretty and your metaphorical jaw was on the floor and suddenly you forgot how to form a coherent sentence.

The confused look on his face brought you out of your stupor and you knew you had to answer him soon, before you embarrassed yourself further. “I’m okay now all thanks to you. So, thank you.” You managed to somehow make your voice sound both curt and squeaky at the same time.

You could not make yourself look at him, much less have eye contact. So you just decided to look out the window. In the reflection of the window, you saw him putting his head phones back on which you hadn’t even noticed were around his neck.

When it was your turn to get down you thanked the stranger again and slightly bowed to further show your gratitude.

That night you couldn’t fall asleep so you decided to bake. You weren’t stress baking but rather ‘I-have-embarrassed-myself-too many-times-in-a-day’ baking. Though baking definitely didn’t help you forgot about the beautiful stranger.

Three hours of baking too many cookies for one person to consume later, you finally went to bed, exhaustion from the day catching up to you. You had to wake up in 4 hours and you were already dreading it.

»»———-　　———-««

Day 14

Today was turning out to be better than yesterday. Your cookies were a hit at the office, as always. Your superior even forgave you for yesterday’s mishaps. Though he would never admit it, it was mostly because of your cookies.

You even saved a box of them for the kind stranger from yesterday. Hoping that he would board the same train as yesterday and so you could properly thank him.

When you saw the familiar tresses of his soft, long hair that made you want to run your hand through it, you sighed a breathe of relief.

You hadn’t thought far and were sure you wouldn’t get to see him again today and words escaped you again.

You were rehearsing in your mind what you would say to him when you felt a pair of eyes on you and looked up to see him looking at you before he looked away. He seemed very interested in something out the window.

You decided that you would be brave and would stop acting like a shy teenager and just talk to him.

You tapped his knee to get his attention. “Hey I don't know if you remember but you helped me through a panic attack yesterday, I wanted to thank you for it. I baked some cookies and there were some extra so I brought them for you.” You offered him the box with the best smile you could muster.

When a few beats passed and he didn’t take the box from you, your confidence started to wane. The lone box suspended in the air awkwardly by your hands. “Uhm, nevermind.”

Of course, who would take the box of cookies from a strange lady on the train! No sane person that’s for sure.

You cringed as you slowly brought the box back to keep in your lap when he stopped you and took the box from you.

“Thank you for the cookies, I was just really taken aback. Which is why I didn’t take the cookies at first, not because I thought that cookies were poisoned.” He said rubbing the nape of his neck.

You laughed at his attempt at a joke. “It’s really okay, I would be skeptical of taking cookies from a stranger too. Thank you once again for yesterday. I’m really grateful because you were very kind and didn’t make me feel bad for having a phobia that children usually have. Other people haven’t been this kind.”

“You really don’t have to thank me. And I’m sorry other people weren’t as kind. Thank you for the cookies, I’ll enjoy them.” He said smiling, his eyes turning into crescents.

“I’m Y/N by the way.” You said extending an unsure hand for him to shake, did people even shake hands these days?

He laughed and shook your hand. ”I’m Hyunjin.”

»»———-　　———-««

Day 22

It had been 7 days since Hyunjin had last seen you. Now it wasn’t like he was counting down the days or anything, he just wanted to return your tupperware. 3 days of not seeing you and he was worried, he wondered if something happened to you and if you were okay.

On the 5th day he wondered if you were avoiding him, he recalled his last conversation with you for any indication of your behaviour that would suggest you were avoiding him. He came up with nothing and decided to stop assuming things. He didn’t want to admit it but he missed his the beautiful stranger.

After more than a week was when you came back. When he entered the train he could smell your perfume, the scent which was very similar to that of jasmines but not quite the same, it drove him up the wall. He would ask you one day what perfume you used.

When he sat down beside you, he handed you your tupperware. You smiled at him, then slowly shaked the box, raising your eyebrows at him.

“Those are blueberry muffins in the box, my mom has always said that you should never return tupperwares empty.”

“I bought these from a local bakery though, I can’t bake as good as you.”, he replied, giving you a sheepish smile.

“Thank you for the muffins, I really like these ones.”

“Oh, before I forget, why didn’t you use the train these last few days?”

“I got my periods and the first two days are really painful so I usually avoid going to the office on those days. And for rest of the days I don’t use the train because I have really bad backache.”

“Oh ok, I hope you feel better now.” Hyunjin was relieved your absence was not because of him.

“Yeah, I do.” You said smiling, pulling out your book of the day from your bag.

When Hyunjin noticed the book, grinning, he grasped one end of the book in your hand. You gave him a quizzical look and were surprised by his sudden behaviour. “Is this the sequel to Before the coffee gets cold?”

“You’ve read Before the coffee gets cold? And to answer your question, yes it is”

You had an amused smile on your face and he decided he would tease you. “Wow, I’m offended, you don’t think I could read a book just because I’m a pretty face?”

“Your words not mine dude. I just can’t imagine you reading this kind of an emotional book, you look like you only read academic textbooks.” You added with a hint of playfulness in your tone.

“Well I did read this book and I almost cried too, towards the end.”

“What do you mean almost cried? I was bawling my eyes out. In fact I’m pretty sure the pages of this book are covered with my snot.”

“I don’t know, I wanted to cry especially after the last chapter but my tears wouldn’t come out? It’s like I’m emotionally constipated.”

You laughed at his raw candidness, and he concluded that he could part seas to hear the sound again.

That day your conversation over the book lasted till you had to get down. Your voice increasing as you excitedly raved about the book. Hands gesturing around with a twinkle in your eyes, he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to.

»»———-　　———-««

Day 37

“And then he stuck the gum he was chewing on my desk.” Hyunjin was currently telling you about his terrible work day. He part timed at a Government facility, which was a detention center for troubled teens. Today, he had to counsel a 15 year old who was downright rude and had charges on him for vandalism.

“I’m not saying I love my job but it beats having to deal with angsty teenagers on a day to day basis.”

“I mean, it’s not all bad, the other day this autistic girl made a card for me and it was really cute. Also I really like helping people and as sappy as it sounds, making a difference.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Hyune. If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

The use of the nickname didn’t go unnoticed by him, it wasn't the first you had used it but it made his heart flutter all the same.

It had been a little over two weeks since he became closer to you and your friendship blossomed.

You didn’t expect to find a friend in such an unlikely place, you looked forward to the end of every day, talking to Hyune about everything and nothing. Talking to him was as natural as winter turning into spring, the ice melting away so beautiful flowers can blossom.

Just as suddenly as spring had come, he’d slowly warmed his way into your heart.

»»———-　　———-««

Day 61

You always seemed to forget the reason why you hated clubbing, which is why you always let Sakura drag you to one. She was your bestfriend and you loved her more than anything in the world but her habit of getting shitfaced drunk was something you wish you could break.

You were currently two drinks in, enough to break you out of your shell but not quite enough that you could hit the dance floor. You downed three more in order to join Sakura on the dance floor. You don’t know when it happened but you were currently grinding up against a stranger and you could feel the outline of something that was definitely not his phone. If you were lucky, you would get to go home with the handsome stranger.

At least that was the plan, before you got a call from Sakura, “Hello? Kkura?”

The call got disconnected before you could get another word in. A few seconds later, you got a text from her.

kkura ♡ : washroom. NOW.

you : coming

you : are u ok?

When she didn’t reply, you quickly apologised to the stranger and excused yourself. You started looking for the washrooms. When you found them, you entered to find Sakura hunched over the toilet seat, spilling her guts out. You slowly rubbed her back and removed your phone to call Han. He was also one of your bestfriends, he couldn’t come with you guys today because he was busy creating yet another track, life as a musical producer meant that even his Saturdays were spent labouring away.

The phone rang thrice before he picked up,"Hey Y/n. What’s up?"

“Kkura is really sick, can you come pick us up? It’ll be really hard to get a taxi from here.”

“Okay, I’ll be right there, text me the address.”

After texting him the address, you helped Sakura up and made sure she drank water.

Both of you decided that waiting outside was much better, the music was just too loud. The entrance of the club was mostly deserted save for a few people smoking and a strange man that kept glancing in you guys’ direction. You knew you were safe and that the man wouldn’t misbehave with people around but you still messaged Han to hurry up.

you : can you get to the club faster? there’s a really strange man here and i’m pretty sure he’s going to rope us into a pyramid scheme or a cult

You were surprised when not more than five minutes later you got a call from Hyunjin. You wondered why he was up so late. Clearing your throat, you picked up.

“Uhh, Hyunjin?”

“Where are you?” There was an urgency in his voice, tone frantic.

“Club Red Lights?” You meekly replied, unsure of the reason he had called you.

“Stay right there, I’m coming to pick you up.”

“Wha-” Your words died on your tongue when you heard the line end.

You mentally smacked yourself when you saw that you had sent the message meant for Han to Hyunjin.

His concern for you made you feel warm inside or was it the alcohol you had earlier?

Ten minutes later when Han arrived in a taxi, you helped a very dazed Sakura get in the car. You explained the situation to Han and how you were going to wait for Hyunjin.

“Are you sure? Do you want me to wait here with you till he has arrived?”

“Yes, I’m sure Hanji. You don’t need to wait for me, just make sure Kkura gets home safe.”

“Okay if you say so.” He leaned in for a hug, when you were swiftly pulled away from the embrace.

“What the fuck” Han exclaimed, while you let out a gasp.

“Hyunjin!”

“Is this the guy you were talking about?”

“No Hyune, calm down. This is my friend, Jisung. The message I sent you was actually meant for him.”

“What message?” Han inquired, while glaring at Hyunjin.

“We’ll talk about this later Ji, you should take Sakura home.”

“Goodnight! Text me if anything, ok?” Han said finally embracing you, without strong arms pulling you away.

“Yes I will, goodnight Ji.”

When the taxi drove away, Hyunjin turned to you with a sheepish smile,”I’m sorry for my outburst earlier, I was really scared when you messaged me so late.”

You couldn’t help the blush that crept up your cheeks.

“I’m sorry for scaring you, I was kind of buzzed when I sent that message, how did you even get here so fast?”

“I drove.” He replied, shrugging. “Shall we get going? Where do you live?”

After giving him the address, you got in the passenger seat. The whole ride you couldn’t help but keep stealing glances at him, he looked so attractive driving. Seeing him in a striped blue and beige sweater was disconcerting, in a good way. You had only ever seen him in work attire, and he looked so stunning in them but him in casual clothes was somehow even better.

You tried to snap yourself out of it, and were convinced that the only reason you were ogling your friend was because of all the drinking you did earlier.

When you reached your apartment complex, Hyunjin insisted that he would drop you to your doorstep. On seeing how much you were staggering, he helped you to your bed. He even insisted on removing your heels for you. A shiver ran through your body when his big hand touched the straps on your ankle. He takes his time undoing the straps, but even that's not enough. You want to fall asleep in the warmth of his arms.

He’s going to leave soon, you don’t want that. You wish he would stay, even if it’s till you fall asleep. You don’t like saying bye even though you know you will meet him again.

Can’t you stay?

When he stops in his movements and looks up at you with his eyes widened, you realise that you said the sentence out loud. You hoped you it didn't sound as needy as it did in your mind.

“I-uh-Sure.” He stammered. “Where do you keep your aspirin?”

“It should be in the cabinet near the refrigerator.”

Keeping the glass of water and bottle of aspirin on your bedside table he noticed you were fast asleep, softly snoring. He smiled at the sight, pulling up your blanket to cover you.

He was getting ready for bed when he had received your message. To say that he was worried would be an understatement. He drove to your location using the GPS, his speed astonishing even to him. He hadn’t speeded since that incident, and that was two years ago.

When he reached the location and saw you in your silk dress and your cheeks flushed due to the alcohol, he couldn’t help but think about how gorgeous you were. You were about to embrace a man and Hyunjin didn’t know what came over him. Was it Panic? Anger? He wasn’t sure, his only thought was to get you to safety. And he did something irrational.

But now, he was endeared by the sight of you snuggling into your covers. His heart skipped a beat when you had asked him to stay. Your desperation very evident when you uttered the last word. He decided it was best to leave now or he would really end up staying with you.

You woke up the next morning at 11am to the worst hangover you had ever had, the aspirin on your bedside table helped. You had to meet up with Sakura and Han in an hour for brunch, so you had a quick shower and got ready.

“Well well well, if it isn’t Ms. Y/N.” Han began in a voice that was too cheerful for your hungover brain.

“I’m too hungover to have a civil conversation with you right now, Han.”

“That’s too bad because I want to know who that guy was from last night and why you went home with him.”

“You went home with some guy last night?!” Sakura exclaimed.

“I didn’t “go home” with him, he just dropped me off when I sent him a text meant for Han. And he’s not just some guy, he’s the friend I made on the train.”

“You went home with Train Hottie?!?” Both of them exclaimed in unison.

Your friends had dubbed Hyunjin as the ‘Train Hottie’ when you had told them about you having a panic attack on the train.

“Can you guys keep it down? My head is still pounding.” You scolded.

“Wait you never told me what the text was about.” You showed Han the text while shoving avocado toast in your mouth, which they had ordered for you.

“He thinks I’m a cult leader?!” Han replied slightly offended.

“It’s more likely that he thought you were some guy who roped people into pyramid schemes, Sung.” Sakura muttered, both of you bursting into laughter.

Han just shook his head and playfully smacked Sakura’s hand.

»»———-　　———-««

Day 98

Something was off today, Hyunjin noticed that as soon as he entered the train. You were slumped over in your seat, your head in your hands. As he sat down beside you, he nudged your shoulder,”Hey, you okay?”

You looked up, your eyes full of anguish as you figured out how to answer him, your mind at war, if you should be honest or not.

You decided you would go with the half truth.

“I-Just had a bad day at w-work.” You croaked, on the verge of tears.

“Can you take a day off tomorrow?” He asked. You just nodded, not having the strength to reply.

Hyunjin pondered for a minute before grabbing your hand.

“What? Where are you taking me ?”

“I don’t know.” And he really didn’t, he wanted to cheer you up somehow and it wasn’t possible in a moving metal box.

Both of you got down at the next station, his hand never leaving yours. He didn’t know it but you always felt safe in his presence, it brought you comfort in times where everything felt wrong.

His pace quickened and you had to jog to keep up with him. As soon as you guys exited the subway, he looked for a convenience store.

“What flavour of ice cream do you like?”, he inquired.

“Anything that doesn’t have fruit in it.”

He picked two packets of vanilla ice cream that was covered in chocolate and shaped like a chocolate bar.

“These are my favourite.”, he exalted grinning, his eyes turning into crescents. You couldn’t help the smile contorting your features, his childlike joy at buying his favourite ice cream contagious.

He went to the alcohol section to get a pack of 6 beer bottles and proceeded to pay for all the items.

You quirked a brow at his combination of ice cream and beer but didn’t question him.

You guys decided to go to the Namsan Tower, as you had coincidentally got down at Myeongdong Station. You spent the cable ride up in comfortable silence, save for the bouncing of Hyunjin’s leg against the floor of the cable car.

When both of you got down, he looked for a bench with the best view overlooking the city. Once he found it, he set the things down, taking out a beer bottle and opening it against the bench.

“Impressive.”, you said nodding. He made a show of removing his imaginary hat which made you giggle.

“Okay have a sip of this but don’t drink it and then take a bite of the ice cream.”

You did as he instructed and you were taken aback when the chocolate melted into your mouth and the ice cream mixed with the beer. The chocolate paired so well with the malty beer, it left a different kind of burn in your throat which was washed away by the ice cream.

Hyunjin waited with bated breathe for your reaction and let out a sigh of relief when you smiled up at him. He was happy to share his favourite food combination with you and even happier that you seemed to like it.

“It’s like the Mc Donald’s float but less sweet and for adults.”

“Yeah I guess it is, I was really drunk off my ass when I thought of this combination.”

“You’re a genius actually, I was really skeptical of it at first but it goes together so well!”

He just smiled and you guys sat there for a few minutes, soaking up the scenery and drinking together. Until he broke the silence with his questioning,”So..do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

You sighed nodding and taking a sip of your beer,”I fucked up really bad at the office today and was reprimanded in front of the whole office. It was humiliating to say the least.”

“And? Is that all?”

“No.." You sighed again, opening up was always hard but never with Hyunjin.

"I’ve been wondering these days, if it’s all worth it?”

“You mean slaving away in that office every day to just put food on your table, even if it doesn’t make you happy?”

You were shocked at how he was able to articulate your feelings in just a sentence,”Yes..”, you let out a dry chuckle.

His hand found yours, thumb running circles on your hand, urging you to continue,”I just- I don’t know what my purpose is, you know? Like how you know what your purpose is and you’re doing so well too. I didn’t know what I wanted to do in college and I’m still the same, all these years later. Wasting my life away for a job I don’t even like.” You try not to cry and end up pouting.

“Do you want my honest opinion?” You nod.

“First of all, yes I do like helping people but it’s just a bonus. I’ve been obsessed with psychology for as long as I can remember, I’m just one of the lucky ones whose special interest happens to coincide with my “purpose”. The idea that everyone needs to have a purpose to be worthy of being a citizen of the society is such bullshit. Plus your purpose doesn’t always imply something you have to do to give back to the world. It’s all just part of the western capitalistic propaganda. What if I’m here to just have fun? What if this is my last life as a human? I think the pressure of having a “purpose” is too much especially for an 18 year old fresh out of high school. Even for a 23 year old like yourself, it’s too soon. I mean you have your whole life ahead of you to find out what it is. So really, you have nothing to worry about.”

Hearing his words had lifted a weight off your chest, a feeling of catharsis filling you. He was your catharsis. His words comforting you like no one ever had.

He looked so cute under the moonlight, his angry pout on your behalf making him even more endearing. Oh how you wish you could kiss him and feel those plump lips on every inch of your skin. You looked away before you actually gave in and kissed him.

“I-uhm”, you cleared your throat,”Thank you for saying that, you don’t know how much it means to me.”

“Of course, anytime.” He said smiling and taking a big gulp of his beer. Which was consequently followed by a very loud burp, you turned towards him and started laughing clutching your stomach. The look of surprise on his face and dusting of red on his cheek was priceless. “Uhm, that was on purpose, I wanted to make you laugh.”

“Sure whatever you say Hyune.”

“Anyways, is there not anything that makes you genuinely happy?”

You. That’s what you wanted to say but you couldn’t because of everything that it would imply. You weren’t drunk enough for that conversation. So you went for the next best thing.

“Baking. It calms me down.”

“Then you should open a bakery or a cafe.”, he said matter of factly.

“It’s not as easy as that.”

“But it’s not impossible, is it?”

“Well-”

“I think you shouldn’t give up before you even try it.”

You pondered over what he said for a few minutes.

“I mean I could freelance graphic design for a while alongside my job, save up money and lease a small shop.”

"See, I told you it's not impossible ."

You had to leave the Namsan Tower soon, as it was closing, so you decided to sit outside a convenience store.

You spent what felt like hours talking about your plans for your cafe. It was almost 3am when you both decided to return home.

“You can stay the night with me, you know because your home’s far from here. That’s if you want to.”

“Okay.” He says looking away.

You reach home around 3:30am. Hyunjin insists on sleeping on the couch but you are persistent. “It’s fine really, we’re two adults, we can share the bed.”

You give him a blanket of his own and got in the bed.

“Gooodnight.”

"Goodnight, Hyune.”

»»———-　　———-««

Day 99

Hyunjin had been watching you sleep for the past ten minutes, he found everything about you cute, the peaceful look on your face, the drool coming out your mouth. Oh how he wished you had fallen asleep in his arms.

You slowly wake up due to the sunlight that was streaming in through the windows, your eyes getting used to the light. The first thing you noticed was his eyes, watching you intently, he would never hold back, be it his work or even just a simple gaze. The intensity in his eyes makes you blush and you’re hit with a sudden urge to kiss him.

Unbeknownst to you, that’s the same thing going through his mind.

A chant of:

kiss me,

plaguing his mind.

His ragged breathing goads you on and you lean in.

Your lips meet in a desperate kiss, as if you’re lovers meeting after lifetimes apart. He bites your lip, eliciting a moan from you. His tongue enters your mouth, teasing your tongue.

When the both of you come back for air, his eyes are blown wide, lust evident in them. His carnal gaze setting you off more.

The second kiss you share is sensual, slow, while the first one was all teeth and tongues, this one is unhurried, exploring.

He sits up and you straddle him, the kiss becomes intense as your hand travels to his nape, the kiss deepening, while his hands explore your body, stopping to knead your breasts.

You break the kiss to remove your top. When your lips are back on his, he continues his exploration of your body, now free of it’s constraints. He does quick work of your bra, that you don’t even realise he has removed it.

He starts smothering kisses on your neck, leaving a wet trail down the valley of your breasts. His plump lips close around your right nipple while his nimble fingers play with your left one. You feel yourself shiver at the attention but he holds you steady and needy whines spill out of you as you grind on his hard on. His moans getting lost against your curves. His eyes never once leave yours, as your fingers thread through his hair, pushing him further against your chest.

After what feels like hours of desperate moans that come out of your mouth, Hyunjin stops his ministrations on your chest, you would have come just from this if he had continued any longer.

He removes his shirt, while you help him remove his pants. He initiates the kiss this time, as you keep grinding against his bulge. The sound of his husky moans drive you crazy. You pull away to trail kisses down his neck, his lips chase yours when you do so. But soon he gives into the pleasure your lips give him. You take your time sucking and licking consequently on his skin in your downward descent, giving his nipples little bit of the attention he gave yours. You take your time leaving kisses on the hard muscles of his abdomen. When you finally reach the bulge in his boxers, you look up at him, "Can I?"

“Please”, his deeper than usual voice perhaps from the long hours of sleep has heat pooling between your legs, the neediness in his tone sending you further over the edge.

You remove him from his constraints, his big dick was painfully hard. You smear the precum around his tip, giving small licks to the head of his cock. His needy moans are music to your ears, you tease him some more. Then you take almost half of his length at once, the way he stills in shock makes you feel proud of yourself. You start bobbing up and down his length that you can take, your hands stimulating the rest. His pleasure guiding his actions, he thrusts up into your mouth, moaning loudly when you gag around him. Soon after he feels his orgasm coming, he tries to pull out of your mouth, you tap his thigh to let him know it’s ok if he came inside your mouth. He comes down your throat with an intense moan. You wipe your mouth and go back to kiss him.

“You taste even better with my cum.” He breathes out. His husky voice is enough to make you come.

“I want you on all fours for me, angel.” His commanding tone with the use of that nickname has you complying without any complaints.

This position makes you so much more vulnerable to him, his kisses start from the curve of your ass, he massages your venus dimples, leaving chaste kisses on them while he removes your underwear.

You shudder under him as his kisses reach the nape of your neck, he whispers into your ear, "I want to pay you back for all the teasing but maybe next time. Today, I’ll just settle for ruining you."

His large hand cups your cunt, the tips of his fingers so close yet so far from the place you really need him all while he whispers into your ears like the devil he is, all the things he will do to stay true tp his promise. You’re pretty sure you’re dripping down your thighs by now. His fingers finally enter you, scissoring you open, the motions making you weak, you realise you wouldn’t have fallen down if not for the steady hand around you. He adds a third finger all while nipping your right ear, you finally let go, your walls violently convulsing around his fingers. When you come down from your high, his question catches you off guard after all that’s been said and done.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Yes, please. The condoms are in the first drawer of the bedside table.”

Rolling the condom on, he enters you in one swift motion, your body jerking forward but he catches you in time.

When you have adjusted to his length, he starts moving roughly.

“Fuck you’re so tight, even after I fingered you open.”

The force of his thrusts make the headboard slam against the wall. The sound of banging, matching your moans.

“Ahh-Hyune, please, please d-don’t stop”

You reached your high again after a particularly hard thrust, the sound of your moans reaching a volume they had never before. Hyunjin followed right after, his movements slowing down, his seed spilling into the condom.

He pulled out and got up to get a towel to clean you. You hissed at the loss of him. After he cleaned you up, he peppered your face with kisses promising you breakfast and a day in watching movies.

»»———-　　———-««

Day 112

It had become a routine for you and Hyunjin to spend the night at each other’s place. You would have sex, cuddle and then have dinner together. He would leave before you in the morning because work for him started early.

Today was no different, he ate you out on the kitchen counter before the both of you proceeded to the bathroom to wash the day off of each other.

But it wasn’t long before he was in you, your legs wrapped around his waist, back against the bathroom wall. His thrusts were rougher than usual, you wondered if he had had a bad day at work.

That was before he uttered that name again.

“Ahh- Mina..I-”

You stilled when he said that name, yet again, though he was conscious this time. It had made you wonder if he was seeing someone else. Hearing that name brought back all of your insecurities, the thoughts of an orgasm were so far away now. He didn’t seem to notice or if he did he didn’t say anything, still chasing after his own high. When you felt him getting closer and closer, you clenched harder, moaning his name again and again.

You were thankful it was his turn today to cook, you really wouldn’t be able to focus with your mind running a thousand scenarios that caused you nothing but displeasure. You had felt your heart breaking when you heard him call out for that Mina girl in his sleep last Tuesday night. When you had told Sakura about it she had told you to ask him about it and you wished you could, you wished you were a confrontational person. Hearing your dilemma she told you to just ask him on a date and gauge his reaction. And you did, your heart beating, you were the most nervous you had ever been and the most relieved when he said yes. Your movie date was in 2 days on Saturday, you would go to a fancy restaurant after, for dinner.

You also wished you didn’t get attached to people so easily, you had only known Hyunjin for a little over 3 months but that didn’t stop you from falling for him, causing you inevitable heartache. You know you owed it to yourself to ask him about Mina, you decided it would be best to have this conversation after dinner.

“Hyune? Can I ask you something?” You asked while you were washing dishes and he dried them.

“Yes, of course.” He replied, giving you his crescent eyed smile.

“Who is Mina?” You asked, trying to not sound accusatory.

His whole demeanor changed, he stopped wiping the cup in his hand.

He tried to school his features of any emotions but you noticed the sheen in his eyes, as he went back to wiping the cup.

“Uh-She was my ex-fiancé.”

“Oh”, was all you could say, you had more questions but he was clearly very upset, even though he was trying not to show it. It was best to let him tell you in his own time.

“Why- why do you ask?”

“Oh it- you mentioned her in your sleep.” You didn’t have the heart to mention the incident from before, wanting to hide the shame and faked orgasm.

You didn’t know if you were overthinking or if he was actually distancing himself from you. He didn't say goodnight or give you a kiss. You could feel him building up walls around himself, walls you wanted to climb over and just embrace him.

He didn’t hold you that night, you deluded yourself into thinking that maybe it was because physical touch was just too much in that moment.

You just lay there thinking and thinking about what went wrong, maybe you shouldn’t have asked him about her. Was he still in love with her? All your thoughts however ceased when you heard soft sobs from his side of the bed, wanting to hold him close but you knew would do no good. It would only make him distance himself more.

You don’t know when you fell asleep between trying not to let your tears fall and trying not to wipe away his tears. But your worst fears were confirmed when you woke up to the cold sheets beside you and your washroom devoid of his toiletries that he had brought over after spending countless nights at your place.

»»———-　　———-««

Day 114

Anyone would say it was a foolish thing to wait for someone for 2 hours at the movie theater, someone who had left one morning without saying a goodbye, someone who hadn’t replied to any of your calls or texts for the last two days, someone whose silhouette, with his headphones that you longed to see in that train, someone whom you missed a lot.

As you walked away from the theater with heavy feet, you thought to yourself about how now you had the confirmation that he was not coming back.

Your time with him, however short, taught you that you were capable of love, of heartbreak. You came out of your first heartbreak gaining something, at least that is how you consoled yourself.

»»———-　　———-««

Day 127

You were sitting in the same seat as you sat in everyday, everyday praying you could see him again, even if it was just once. It was as if he had disappeared into thin air or maybe your lonely mind just made him up, that’s why he always seemed so other-worldly.

You were staring out the window as was routine for you these days, hoping to find him, always looking for him subconsciously. Your wet umbrella on your lap was soaking your clothes, but it didn’t matter. Your wet hair was stuck to your face but that too, didn’t matter.

From the corner of your eye, you think you saw his long black hair, your heartbeat quickening as you rushed to get out of the train, it felt like hours had passed when the doors opened.

You ran in the direction of the subway as that’s where he was headed, calling out to him but his pace only seemed to quicken. So it really was him.

You finally slowed down when he was on the fifth step.

“Hyunjin, please.”

That made him stop in his tracks, maybe it was the desperation or the pain evident with that last word.

He turned around and you could swear that the world around you stopped, the pain in his eyes mirroring the pain in yours, while his heartache was caused by some stranger you didn’t know and yours was caused by him. He looked pale and his eyes were bloodshot.

You walked towards him, the reasonable part of your mind telling you to just walk away, to save further heartache and humiliation.

Standing a step below him, you looked up, trying not to sound weak while tears were welling up in your eyes,”Can we please talk?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Really? That’s all you have to say? Did our friendship mean nothing to you? Were the weeks we spent together so insignificant that you didn’t even bother saying goodbye?”, anger from the weeks alone catching up with you.

“Y/N-”, you flinch at his use of your name, your own name sounding so foreign on his tongue.

“I-We can’t be together. I can’t be in a relationship right now.”, he croaked looking away.

“Then why did you lead me on? Why? When you’re in love with someone else?”

He finally looked at you,“God-I, I never meant to lead you on, Y/N. And I’m not in love with someone else, my ex she-she died in a car accident, two years ago. She is dead.” He whispered the last sentence to himself, as if trying to remind himself of that.

Suddenly everything made sense, the look of melancholy that was always present in his eyes. The name he called out to, in his slumber.

He was staring into your eyes, looking for something, you tried to blink back the tears that were starting to build behind your eyes. You turned around then, tears starting to fall down your cheeks, walking away from him was probably one of the hardest things you had to endure.

When you were finally out of his sight, did you let yourself cry, smalls sobs turning into heaving. You cried for him then, his love, his loss, your love and your loss. You finally understood why he couldn’t love you, his grief was too big for his heart and you understood, you did. It still didn’t stop you from cursing the universe for bringing him to you with flowers and sunshine and letting him wash away with the rain.

»»———-　　———-««

Day 113

Hyunjin knew he was hurting you, when he heard you ask him about Mina yesterday, he realised he had called out Mina’s name while making love to you. He had wished hard that he hadn’t said it out loud, he felt guilty for thinking about someone else when he was with you. He felt guilty for loving you, his mind had become a prison he couldn’t get out of.

He wished he could've processed his grief before he met you, he wished he hadn’t fought with Mina, he wished Mina hadn’t run away from him that night, he wished he didn’t feel guilty for holding you, loving you. He wished for the ghosts of his past to leave him alone. But that’s all he could do, all he had been doing his whole life.

He didn’t want to be weak and pathetic but he guessed he had always been that way, passive all his life, looking from afar, never taking action.

He knew he had to distance himself before he hurt you more than he already had. He knew it wasn’t right but sometimes not saying goodbye hurt less than actually saying goodbye.

»»———-　　———-««

Day 127

It had been 15 days since he had last heard that voice, at first he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. He tried his hardest not to turn around and just run into your arms.

Your plea was what made him stop and reminded him of the wall he had built up to protect you from himself.

He was devastated, his worst fears confirmed when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes, your face thinner than he last saw you.

He had an epiphany that day, he really wanted to hold you, call you his again. In order to do that, he would have to get over his grief, his past.

For the first time in his life, he decided he wouldn’t let life pass him by, he wouldn’t let you pass by, he would seek help to get to you. He was determined and would do anything to kiss you again.

»»———-　　———-««

Day 335

For a little less than 7 months, you’ve been working hard to open your own café. It was just last month when you had finalised on a shop, paying the deposit for it. The shop was small but it had a homey feel to it, it was everything you were looking for and more.

With help from your friends you had set up all the furniture and equipment, your café, ’Eden’, would be opening in 5 days and to say you weren’t nervous would be a lie. You hoped all the ads that you had put up and the marketing you had done would pay off and that people would actually show up.

You had quit your job last month, starting the new year in your café, surrounded by people you love. It had been satisfying sending in the two week notice. You had been freelancing alongside your job the last few months. You don’t know why it never occurred to you that you could live off the money you made from doing freelance graphic design.

Han and Sakura were bickering out front while you organised your kitchen, there was no way you were letting them near your kitchen, especially so close to opening day.

Their bickering had suddenly stopped, there were only hushed voices now and it made you wonder what had happened. You went out to investigate and overheard their conversation.

“What do we do with this bouquet?”

“Don’t ask me stupid questions, Hanji. Of course we throw it out, we can’t let her know he was here.”

“Who has here?” You asked incredulously.

“Hyunjin, obviously you dummy. Who is the one asking stupid questions now?”

“Jisung!” Sakura scolded hitting him on his back.

“Oww! What the-Oh Y/N”

You took the bouquet of Daffodils from the counter and ran outside.

“Y/N wait-” you heard Sakura call out.

You were glad when you found his retreating figure, his wide back and long hair making him easily recognisable.

“Hyunjin!” You yelled to get his attention. You were out of breathe when you finally caught up to him.

Returning the bouquet to him, you tried to stabilise your breathing.

“Y/N, wha-”

“I don’t take flowers from strangers.” He let out a sigh, running his hand through his hair.

“Your friends told me you were at home.”

“I don’t blame them for lying, they were just protecting me.” He winced at the bite in your tone, but he knew he deserved it.

“Look, can we please just talk?”

“I don’t think we have anything to talk about.”, you said throwing his words from months ago back at him. Only you knew how many times you had replayed that whole conversation.

“Okay I deserve that but please just listen to me, once. I promise I won’t bother you again.”

“You have 30 minutes.”

“But-” You gave him a look that indicated you wouldn’t negotiate on this.

“Fine. But you will have to come with me somewhere first.”

You thought over his words for a minutes before letting out an exasperated sigh,”You better make this worth my time, Hwang.” You texted Han and Sakura in your group chat asking them to close up and letting them know that you would return late. You turned your phone on silent and walked to where his car was parked.

His bouncing leg was the first thing you noticed when you got in the car, the smell of jasmines was the second thing you noticed.

You could cut the tension in the car with a knife.

“Are you kidnapping me? Where are we even going this late at night?”, you joked.

“The Graveyard.”, was all he muttered before turning silent again. You didn’t know how to reply and wondered what was going on through his head. Why now??

The graveyard was grim and gloomy, like one always is. He got down without a word, grabbing a bouquet of jasmines from the backseat. You wordlessly followed his lead.

When he finally reached the grave he was looking for, he bent down to put the bouquet near the grave stone and you heard him sniffle.

“This is my first time visiting her grave. It’s been two years since the accident and this is the first time.” He breathed out, his tone one of disdain. You rubbed his back to comfort him and urging him to continue.

“The night she died, the night of her accident, we had a fight. She just left with her car and I let her. If I had just apologised, just let go of my ego for once…”

“Hey it’s not your fault, you couldn’t have known. I know my words might seem empty but you can’t predict the future, it’s not your fault.” , you wanted to comfort him like he had done for you, after all you were friends before everything that went down.

“I-I know.”

“I just never got over my grief, when she died I was just numb and threw myself into work. For the longest time I didn’t process that she had died.”

“Then I met you, I tried to deny my feelings for you so long, even before you had that panic attack. I would silently watch you, doing nothing about my growing feelings for you. When I finally had you, I felt guilty towards Mina, it felt like I was betraying what I had with her. I mean I was literally going to marry her.”

“And when I realised I had hurt you, I was so angry at myself. I knew I had to do something, so I started seeing a therapist. You must think I’m pathetic, I mean what therapist goes to another therapist.”

“Hyune, there’s nothing wrong with seeking out help, you’re human too at the end of the day. Also I’m pretty sure many therapists go to other therapists on the daily.” Relief flooded his body at the familiar nickname and he felt just a bit better.

“I know, I do. I just can’t help but feel pathetic, you know? I lost the best thing that has happened to me in a long time and also probably the love of my life. My therapist said that I should visit her grave and on the same day I saw the ad for your café, I knew then that it was a sign.”

“What do you mean, a sign?” Your lack of a response at his confession didn’t go unnoticed by him but he continued anyway.

“I hadn’t realised that I needed help until I lost you, so when I saw your ad, I just knew I had to at least try to reconcile with you. I’m so sorry for being an asshole and ghosting you, there’s really no excuse. I’m truly sorry.”

“It’s okay I forgive you.” You reply without hesitating and you really had forgiven him and made your peace with the situation. He was wrong to ghost you but you knew him better and decided to not judge him for his temporary lapse of judgment. Plus you were never good at holding grudges for too long.

“Uh-I, thank you.”

“I should drop you home, it’s getting late.”

Both of you walked back to the car in silence, this time it was a comfortable one.

When you got in the car, Hyunjin didn’t immediately start the engine.

“Uhh you don’t have to reply to my confession but I would like it if we could be friends again.”, he said, rubbing the nape of his neck.

“Who said I want to be friends?”

“Oh,, okay.” He said looking down at his hands.

“I love you too, Hyune.”

He looked up at that, his widened eyes searching yours to see if you were telling the truth or not. And then he did the unexpected : he kissed you.

His kiss expressed everything his words couldn’t, his love, his promises, his forever.

{The end}

a/n: tysm if you've reached this far! it's my first time posting such a long fic, i hope you liked it <33 i'm so sorry if there any typos, i didn't have time to proofread, pls lmk if there any mistakes :) also i might write an epilogue for this if enough people are interested

278 notes · View notes