#shut up & write

[crheativity]

SUMMARY: Someone's picked a fight with Prefect! But he isn't going to let anyone hurt you anymore. Not on his watch. Part 1! Part 2 with Vil and Silver can be found here.

WARNINGS: Uhhh Prefect (you) gets hit in the face & your nose bleeds. also blackmail.

COMMENTS: I actually wanted to write this firstly for some of my moots! I was gonna write more of their favourites but it accidentally got too long to put in one post, so I'm planning on making a part 2 tomorrow. Anyway, @azulashengrottospiano and @i-like-forgs, enjoy!!

It must be raining.

You were just out in a storm. That’s all.

That would explain the crack of thunder that collided with your face and gave you a throbbing headache. The warm liquid blurring your vision and dripping out of your mouth and nose was just the rain, not some unholy mix of blood and tears. The chills that froze you where you stood was just humidity and the cold, not adrenaline and raw fear.

And yet, even with your desperate brain trying to come up with some reasonable explanation, the only thunderstorm you could see in front of you was a student you couldn’t recognise. Not with your head pounding like this. Not with the thunder in your ears.

There was something about the boy that scared you. That wasn’t uncommon - this school was full of terrifyingly promising mages. But the scariest thing wasn’t how he wielded his magical pen with deadly accuracy, or how strong he so evidently was.

It was just how much he seemed to be enjoying the mix of horror and pain, of blood and tears, that must have been so evidently and delicately splashed across your face.

His smile twisted as he raised his pen again, something in those cruel eyes of his setting off alarm signals in your aching head.

“This’ll teach you not to meddle where you don’t belong.”

The pen glowed, pure magic surrounding it as he prepared to shoot. His sadistic eyes were alight with entertainment. He knew what he was about to do. He didn’t care.

You squeeze your eyes shut and braced for the lightning.

A chuckle and an arm wrapping around your waist made your eyes snap back open.

“C’mon babe, gotta run!”

Pulling you by the waist, the boy broke into a run. You stumbled for a minute, but soon followed after. He released your waist but gently took your hand, tugging you along, urging you to be faster.

A stray spell flew between the two of you.

The boy looked back, an uncharacteristic flash of annoyance creasing his brow.

He caught your eye and winked.

“Split card!”

A second boy seemed to appear next to you. He was an exact copy of the first - the same stylishly ruffled orange hair, the same piercing emerald eyes, the same practiced, perfect smile.

The same red diamond under his right eye.

“Hey, keep ‘em busy for me!”

“You got it, king.” The second boy - the product of Cater Diamond’s unique magic - winked at you. He planted his feet, whirled around and started to cast spell after spell at your assailant.

The real Cater Diamond pulled you along, into the school building. Together you ran, through corridor after corridor, passing empty classroom after empty classroom.

Finally, he slowed to a stop in front of a classroom you’d never seen before. Glancing around and putting his finger in front of his mouth in a shushing motion, he grinned at you.

“In here.”

He held open the door for you, shutting it behind the both of you as you looked around. There were all different kinds of instruments and sheet music scattered around, along with an abandoned satchel. You saw at least one set of drums, along with two electric guitars and one acoustic, amps, even some microphones and music stands.

You supposed this was the Light Music Club’s room.

Cater winced, scratching his nape. “My bad, forgot it was so messy here. Whoever that was won’t find us here, though!” He grinned at you, his smile fading when he noticed the condition you were in.

He took both of your hands and, holding you as though you were made of glass, led you over to an amp. He gently pushed you onto it. It was not the most comfortable thing to sit on, but that was not what you were focusing on.

How could it be?

Cater Diamond was standing in front of you. He glowed like the sun wherever he went, commanding your attention and leaving you blinded.

If he ever called you, you would gladly follow.

The light faded a little as he let go of your hands and stepped away. He walked over to the discarded bag on the ground and started rummaging through it.

“There’s gotta be something… aha, #jackpot!” Pulling out a packet of tissues, he made his way back over to you. Pulling out a tissue, he smiled hesitantly. “Do you mind if I…?”

You blinked. You had forgotten about the pounding in your head, which started to come back with a vengeance. Putting one hand to the side of your head, you gestured for him to go ahead.

He stood just in front of you, one hand cupping your face, the other gently trying to clean as much of the blood off as possible. He didn’t say anything as he went about his work, but there was a look in his eyes as he worked. One filled with kindness and empathy, soft enough to make your heart skip a beat.

He stepped back and, crossing his arms as though to survey his handiwork, he nodded satisfactorily. “The blood on your shirt will be hard to wash off, but the bleeding from your nose has stopped.” He gave you a strained - albeit gentle - smile.

You nodded and placed your hands in your lap, studying them instead of meeting the gentle emerald eyes you could feel searching you.

“Prefect…” he started, the hesitancy in his voice evident. He cautiously sat next to you and you glanced up at him. “Is- are you okay?”

You closed your eyes and leaned into him. He startled a little at your touch, then wrapped his arm around you. “I am now.”

“My my, what have we here?”

“What… the hell?!”

That voice… wait, it couldn’t be-

Blinking rapidly to rid your eyes of the tears, you registered three things.

First, and most obvious, was that the thunderstorm was being contained.

Easily.

I mean, the new arrival held him as easily as a newborn kitten for goodness’ sake. He looked almost as twisted as your assailant, with pure glee in his yellow and olive-brown eyes, his wide grin revealing sharp, pointed teeth. He was evidently enjoying the student’s squirming.

“Got him! I wanna squeeze him ‘til he pops~”

The second thing you registered was the hand resting on your shoulder.

Looking up, you noticed another boy, practically a mirror image of the first. One hand was resting protectively on your shoulder, his other hiding his smile. He looked a lot calmer than the first, but his eyes - the exact opposite of his brother’s - betrayed him. The air around him was crackling with excited energy.

“Not yet, Floyd. I believe that Azul has something he wishes to say to him first.”

“Boo. Hurry up.” Wait.

Azul?

Looking around, you finally registered the third - and final - new arrival. Azul Ashengrotto, the head of the Mostro Lounge, was strolling towards the boy. There was something about him that was different. His curly hair caught the sun, making the silvery colour feel akin to pure, vivid white, as though it was glowing. From this angle, you couldn’t see the face you’d studied so many times - his enchanting grey eyes, or the beauty mark just below his mouth.

There was nothing physically different. So what was wrong?

Ah, that was it. He was angry.

“Do not fret, Floyd.” He stopped in front of the boy, directly in front of you. “You’ll get your chance soon enough.”

“Wh-… what the hell is wrong with you?!” The student shouted, twisting and scratching at Floyd’s arm in a desperate attempt to free himself.

“Wanna find out?” Floyd squeezed the boy tighter and he yelped.

“No! No thank you!”

“Well, at least you have some manners.” Azul drawled.

“What do you want from me?”

“This won’t take long.” Azul fished out some photos from his pocket and showed him. “Do you know who this is?”

“H-… how did you-?!”

“Unimportant.” He waved off the question as though it was simply one about the weather. “However, I believe that it would be in your best interests to leave the Prefect alone now.” “Hah… you’re trying to blackmail me?”

“Blackmail is such an ugly word. I am simply offering you a way out.”

“A way out?” The boy scoffed.

“Certainly. I believe if your mother saw these photos, you would be in a great deal of trouble, would you not? If I am correct, you promised her you’d be on your best behaviour this year. After all, one more incident could be enough for an expulsion, with a track record such as yours.”

“Hey-!”

“It’d be a shame for the school to lose such a promising mage. How about you meet with me in the VIP room tomorrow around 4 o’ clock tomorrow? We can discuss things in more… detail… then.”

The boy glowered but said nothing.

Azul sighed. “I’m a man of my word. As long as no harm will come to the prefect, no harm will come to you in the meantime.”

“Fine.” The boy spat.

“Very well, we have a deal then.” Azul took a step back. “Let him go, Floyd.”

“But he hurt Shrimpy! I don’t wanna~”

“Floyd. There will be plenty of opportunities in the future.”

Floyd complained loudly, but let the boy go. He smoothed his jacket, glaring daggers at you and Azul in turn. Then he whirled around and stormed off.

Three pairs of eyes now turned to you.

You blinked in return.

“Shrimpyyy~!” Floyd bounded over to you and squeezed you in a rib-cracking hug. “Did the bad man hurt you? Don’t worry, you’re with us now, Shrimpy!”

“Give them some air, Floyd.” Jade said and tugged Floyd’s shoulder, attempting to pull him away from you.

“Nooo-“

“Are you alright, Prefect?” Azul asked. He sounded worried.

Floyd and Jade exchanged conspiratorial smirks and Floyd let you go. There was blood on his jacket from where your head had rested against him.

The realness of what just happened began to set in. The pounding sensation in your head came back with a vengeance. “I-…” the world began to spin around you, and Azul grabbed you, panic in his eyes. You felt your legs buckle and he caught you smoothly. “Sorry- I just-“

“It’s quite alright. I will stay with you as long as you need.” Azul reassured you, although you didn’t - couldn’t - miss the quiver in his voice or the pink dusting his face. He pulled out a handkerchief and put it to your face. You took it and applied pressure to your nose, angling your head downwards in order to stop the bleeding, as Azul hesitantly rubbed patterns into your back to help you feel better. The sensation made you feel warm.

With a smile, you realised it wasn’t storming anymore. The sun had finally come out.

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

[g-xix]

so like i know that you don’t really know AMP like that but can i get a fluffy oneshot for ray?? he’s genuinely so fine and funny and respectful so i just need something with him.

☁️Movie Nights | Rayasianboy_

Yeah sure I'll do a short lil drabble, im in the mood fo it

(post-writing grace wants to let it be known that it isn't short. u got 6.7k words here. enjoy.)

Movie nights at the AMP household happened about once every month. What with Duke living so far away and Kai always busy travelling or streaming - about every once a month when Duke stayed the night following a shoot, Kai wasn't too busy with Kevin Hart or some other celebrity chaotically livestreaming, and Agent, Fanum, Davis and Chris were present and available...

AMP movie night happened.

"We should watch a horror-!"

"are you crazy?! Put on a comedy or somethin'-"

"Just 'cus you're pussy doesn't mean we all wanna watch 21 Jump Street for the milli-a-billionth time-"

"I'm with Kai- it doesn't have to be 21 Jump Street- there's some new comedies on Netflix-"

It was always fun. The initial watch of Kai and Fanum arguing it out, Agent and Chris taking their respective sides whilst Davis watched and laughed - all petty debates quickly shut down when Duke just puts on a movie that everyone can agree on...

But the gang wasn't just confined to the AMP crew.

Everyone in the house was summoned when it was AMP house movie night. That included you, of course, as chef for the AMP house and Kai's cousin - he knew you were struggling to put your skills to use and find employment as a 17 year old needing money to support your side of the family as well as live your life. And having been close whilst you grew up, Kai wanted to help you out - hence he asked you to come and help cook at the AMP house and behind the set with the AMP shoots - promising accommodation at the house as well as a wage cut straight from all the money he earnt.

Whilst Kai was your blood relative, the rest of the boys became what you would consider family, also.

You could always play video game basketball with Agent on and off stream, or play little 1v1s on the actual court with Davis. You and Fanum had a special friendship considering he would sometimes just ask for a snack or lurk around the kitchen and have little bits and bobs whilst you cooked - hence there was a friendship that bloomed between you two, centred around food. And Chris and Duke were always interested in roping you into games starting petty wars in the house which you were always happily involved with.

You became the little sister to the AMP house, and this of course, meant that your presence was always necessary for a proper AMP house movie night.

Even if you annoyed everyone by threatening to lie or jump on top of someone.

Unfortunately for you, it seemed as though you were the only one in the house who liked touch. Not in an exclusively romantic or sexual way - no - just wanting to lean against someone or hold onto someone whilst watching movies. In an affirming way. Just for the sake of contact.

Unfortunately for you, being said, as nobody ever agreed with you.

It made sense; being seventeen and the only girl in the establishment, all of the boys made it quite clear that they weren't interested in any sort of contact - regardless of the chaste nature of it. The most you got was normally someone putting the arm around the back of the sofa, behind you - allowing you to somewhat lean against them, lean into their side.

Even Kai, your older cousin you'd grown up with, would disagree to even hugging you sometimes - given that he had always been less into physical contact.

Once, to start the movie night, Fanum had started shit stirring and making the both of you argue (unseriously) about Kai's lack of love or any physical contact. And that had ended with starting the movie an hour later, given that you and Kai began wrestling in the middle of the room (both cheered on by your respective sides), pushing and duelling one another with long polystyrene cylinders you'd randomly found behind a sofa.

There was always chaos and community to be found within your movie nights, and regardless of the movie chosen, or the boys' lack of contact with you... You always had fun.

"You seen Ray anywhere?" Kai ran into the kitchen, cameraman behind him wielding a camera which panned to you upon the question being asked. The fans knew of your existence as cook in the house and Kai's cousin, and despite the occasional shipping with other AMP members which was a bit odd considering your age was also public on your social media platforms - the fans seemed to be pretty chill and found you likeable too.

Kai slid his phone over so that you could see the chat also, knowing that you liked being able to know what people were saying whilst live.

"Which one's Ray?" You scrunched your brows together in confusion, wondering whether Kai had ever introduced you to a Ray before.

"I never introduced you to Ray??" Kai's own brows knitted together in confusion also, pausing his search to acknowledge that fact. You'd seen a thread on Twitter pointing out how similar yours and Kai's body language was having grown up so close, and found it cute that he mirrored your confusion with the same action of scrunching his brows together - a little smile lighting on your face as you shook your head, indicating that you hadn't in fact, met Ray.

Your smile was joined by a slight chuckle as you looked down at the chat on Kai's phone - watching as they flooded the screen with messages such as INTRODUCE HER TO RAY! and GET THEM TO MEET, expressing their intrinsic want for you to meet the enigmatic Ray.

"How long has he been here for?" You asked, checking up on the stove behind you as you asked the question.

"He been in and out the house for the last month or so - you ain't never seen him?" Kai re-questioned incredulously. "Taiwanese mf, like, this tall-" He stretched his arm out above him to exemplify the height. "-shitty haircut, lanky as hell...?"

"I've not seen a single person that isn't black inside this house, Kai." You shook your head to Kai's disappointment. "He been coming into the house for the last couple months though? How've I not seen him?!"

"Shit, I don't know either." Kai shrugged, setting himself on a barstool at the island. (idk what the amp house looks like i j hope there's barstool n a kitchen island) "Chat, you wanna see Ray meet my cousin?"

"Eurgh, I don't wanna meet someone for the first time on your stream, imma be awkward." You rolled your eyes, turning the hob off and stirring the cuisine within an adjacent pot on the stove. "We doing movie night tonight or is that next week?"

"Oh shit I forgot it's movie night tonight!" Kai exclaimed. "Chat, every month or somethin' we all watch a movie together - whole house and AMP gang - you tell 'em about it-"

Between yourself and Kai, the two of you managed to explain the concept of AMP movie nights to the chat whilst you plated up the rice and stroganoff, laughing and joking with the occasional threat of the wooden spoon - only to laugh whenever Kai flinched when you fake jumped at him with the wooden weapon.

"Go give those plates to Fanum and Davis," You gestured to the two plates on the table. "Duke, Chris and Agent can get theirs after they've played whatever basketball game they're playing... Does your Ray friend want a serving too, you think?"

"He can get a portion if he wants, I dunno," Kai shrugged the question away, picking up Davis' and Fanum's plate, awkwardly pulling his own plate of food between his arms and balancing it on his forearms. "Thanks girlie!"

"Yeah you welcome dawg," You mirrored his eccentric name-calling, chuckling as Kai gave his big bursting laugh as he walked out, cameraman following him.

The thought of Ray kept on your mind as you ate your portion, scrolling through your Twitter feed.

A random guy from another country you'd never seen had randomly joined your house? Without you even noticing...?? It felt a bit ironic, considering you spent most your time either in the living room or kitchen - both of which had a view of the front door and anyone who entered or exited the house...

Strange... You thought, chewing on the mushroom as you hard a distant yell of THANK YOU SWEETHEART from a room in the house, Bronx accent indicating it was likely Fanum shouting his gratitude to you for the food.

Switching from Twitter to Instagram, you looked at Kai's recent post - designer covering the boy from head to toe - the post from just 2 hours ago already decorated with several tens of thousands of likes. Quickly scrolling through the comments, you saw someone mention Ray - sparking an idea.

Clicking on Kai's profile, you clicked on the people Kai is following, typing Ray into the searchbar and looking through the profiles until you saw someone that matched the description Kai had given you.

Tall, Asian and not-as-shit-a-haircut as Kai had told you... You tapped on his recent post, one eyebrow quirking up at the subtle definition of his arms that showed with the white wife beater he wore. Clearly not as lanky as Kai had said, either.

You pulled the phone closer to your face as you scrolled onto the next picture, putting your fork down to zoom into Ray's face on the picture.

He had pretty features. Dark eyes and a cute lil smile...

You dropped your phone in shock, scrolling onto the next picture and seeing Ray without a top.

Your eyes widened as you withdrew yourself from your phone, staring into the distance and just grounding yourself for a second... Before picking your phone up again and bringing the phone close to your face to just...

admire.

Because damn was he good looking - broad chest and defined collarbones with subtle ab definition... You couldn't help yourself from zooming into the photo, eyes scouring the picture and just absorbing everything there was to see - marvelling at the pretty boy's posts just as-

"YO COUSIN-"

You quite literally jumped as the door opened, Duke's yell causing you to elicit a yelp as he ambled through the door with a wide grin and Agent trailing behind.

Your fingers fumbled, phone dropping from your hand and sliding across the table - just out of reach from you.

Duke laughed at your response, bending over and hand having to hold onto the kitchen tabletop to stabilise himself as he laughed at at the fear within your reaction - giving you a moment to reach out and grab your phone.... Realising that it had fallen face up with Ray's Instagram picture still on it's screen - your head snapping upwards and making horrifying eye contact with Agent, who had seen exactly what you'd been looking at on your phone.

"Fuck is you reacting like that for-" Duke guffawed, wiping at his eyes as he straightened up, getting poked in his arm by Agent. "What you doing that's got you all scared 'bout us for-"

"Why you looking at Ray's topless pictures?" Agent spilled with the fattest grin, his unfiltered honesty making you slap a hand over your face as you felt blood rushing to your cheeks at his brutal confession of your online snooping. And Duke was quick to snatch your phone from your hands following that - observing your phone screen despite your disputes and laughing as he saw the topless picture of Ray you'd been looking at on the Instagram profile.

"You thirstin' over Ray?" Duke's grin was astronomical as he asked it almost incredulously, holding the phone and pointing at the picture as if he couldn't believe it.

"What?! No- I don't know him - I've never even met him - why would I thirst over him...?" You rushed out, short fragmented sentences reflecting the panic that infiltrated your mind. "N-nothing wrong if I did though... Right?"

Agent and Duke collapsed against one another, bursting into a fit of laughter at your awkward confession.

"GUYS! Shut up! Apparently he's here in the house right now - I don't even like him! He's probably your old ass ages anyways - I don't know-"

"Girl he's your age, he's seventeen too," Duke cut you off, still donning his wide grin.

"Oh..." You felt a strange hope within the pit of your chest, your heart palpitating just a fraction quicker.

"Does that make you like him?" Agent quirked a brow and asked, handing your phone back to you yet continuing the interrogation nonetheless.

"I..." You trailed off as you thought about it.

For the past year or so you'd sort of forgotten or at least left all your crushes and romantic feelings behind - having devoted yourself to doing your job and helping with streams - all too caught up in Kai's influencer lifestyle.... And even when you'd found yourself initially with a micro-crush on Duke, you'd managed to quickly overcome it because of the age difference you knew was more than problematic.

But Ray being your age and literally being in the house with you?

That certainly changed your crush-thought-process.

"No way you crushing on Ray, that's wild," Agent smiled, less mockingly than Duke, as though he actually found it rather wholesome. Which would've made sense, given that Agent had a partner of his own and often expressed his happiness within having a girlfriend he loved.

"I don't know whether I have a crush," You were quick to shake your head though. "I don't know I don't know I don't know- I only found out about his existence like half an hour ago, Agent, I was just seeing who he was on Instagram..."

"Do you like who he is?" Duke interjected his question. "From what you've seen...?"

"I mean..." You found yourself trailing off again. "I don't know, he's cute and all but... Gosh, it's impossible to really know, isn't it? I mean, I've just seen a few pictures of him-"

"-And you like that shirtless pic of him don't you-"

You stared with a stony expression as Duke and Agent collapsed into a fit of giggles at their supposed witty comment.

"God, it feels weird talking to you two about anything to do with... boys."

"Yeah, weird knowing that's your type." Duke added on, making you facepalm.

"He isn't my type, I don't have a type - I don't date much - I don't even know what my type is."

"You should find out," Agent encouraged. "-by asking Ray for his number and going out with him."

"For his number?!" You repeated incredulously. "My God you two are ancient."

"What do you kids ask for nowadays?" Duke asked in confusion, running his hands through his dreads pensively.

"Snapchat or Instagram." You rolled your eyes. "Why am I talking about boys with either of you - you guys don't know shit about picking people up clearly-"

"HEY HEY HEY HEY-" They both rushed to defend themselves, their overlapping defensive shouts laughable.

"Look," You cut their defensive rambles off, raising your hands to gather than attentions, "This is cute and all, I get it, but you gotta understand... I don't even know who this guy is - yeah, I'll admit he's cute and all - but we're being real optimistic saying anything about guy who doesn't even know I exist - like - I just found out that he exists about half an hour ago! He might not even like me if we talked!"

"You too insecure." Duke rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "You ugly but you aren't awful - you don't need to worry 'bout Ray rejecting you, there's plenty out there for you."

"Well thanks I guess."

"You want us to set you guys up?" Agent raised his brows, Duke's eyes widening and mouth forming an o-shape as he realised Agent's genius, looking at you expectantly with a wide smile.

"No." You stated resolutely, crushing their spirits. "Wait 'til I meet him in person or something. He could be weird or we might just be awkward..."

"Ay say less," Duke nodded his head. "When you gon' meet him?"

"I dunno, whenever I see him I guess? He's done a good job avoiding me, considering I haven't seen him in the house EVER, when apparently he's been in and out for months, now..."

Agent gasped, grabbing onto Duke's arm as another lightbulb idea clearly hit him.

"We should introduce them at movie night tonight!"

"HE'S STAYING FOR THAT?!"

"We'll make him stay." Agent grinned as Duke nodded along in agreement, letting out a little aaaaa! of excitement from their decided plan.

You couldn't even stop them from doing it, as they giggled and ran out of the room - not even taking their portion of lunch that you'd cooked, as they left the room swiftly, gossiping like schoolgirls as they plotted whilst you just sat. Fearing what the duo was planning.

"YOU COMIN' OR NOT?"

You rolled your eyes at your jumpy cousin's yell from the floor below, your continuing to unroll your hair in your attic room, looking at your reflection in the mirror and hoping your curls would fluff out if your brushed them.

There was a knock at the door and before you could even respond, it was busted open.

"You're meant to knock and wait until I say you can come in, asshole."

"Yeah yeah yeah," Kai brushed it off before looking into the mirror and seeing your reflection. "The fuck, are you doing your hair for a movie night? Are you wearin' lashes too?"

You shrugged, feeling Kai's judgement bring a slight blush to your face. You'd sort of convinced yourself that if Ray was staying for movie night (and Duke and Agent were gonna try setting the two of you up) you would put on just a bit of makeup - try make yourself look a little better, you know?

"What you getting all dolled up for?"

You bit down on your lip, wondering whether you should let Kai in on it. Would it be a bit awkward? You'd done just a bit of research on Ray and realised that he was surprisingly Kai's best friend - they were tight as hell... Which meant that telling Kai might just be a liiiittle bit awkward.

"I'm just trying some overnight makeup out," You shrugged after a second. "Euphoria - you know that makeup brand? - they gifted me this, I'm jus' trying it out now... So I can wear it in future, you know?"

Kai stared at you for a second, reading your expression and making you uncomfortable under his gaze, wondering whether he knew you were lying...

"Man, I don't know shit about makeup- just hurry your ass up, we waitin' on you now."

With that, Kai gave you the three minutes you needed to unroll and brush your hair - put a few finishing touches on your makeup - and slip into your comfy hoodie and sweatpants, checking your makeup in the mirror one last time before skipping down the stairs.

You peeked into the living room, Davis catching your eye and gesturing for you to come on in, patting the vacant space besides him on the sofa for you to come sit.

Your eyes scaled down the sofa, seeing Kai - Chris - Fanum - Agent - Duke - Davis...

And no Ray.

"You lookin' for someone?" Agent asked with a knowing grin plastered on his face.

"Nope." You stopped Agent, swiftly advancing from the door to the space besides Davis and ignoring the way you could hear Duke's snickering from besides Agent. "Is that everyone?" You asked casually, finding yourself relaxing slightly as the prospect that maybe you wouldn't have to meet Ray with the pressure of Duke and Agent coercing the two of you into talking and getting close.

"Nah we just waitin' on Ray." Kai responded, throwing some snacks into his mouth. "-OH, that means you'll finally meet Ray tonight!"

"Oh." Your simple response came, Duke and Agent's muffled laughter seemingly ignored by everyone but you.

"He's a nice guy," Kai nattered. "I just met him by accident sometime but he's a nice enough kid - he's your age - you could have a friend in the house if you guys get close too-"

"Fuck you mean a friend, we're all friends here," Fanum cut Kai off.

"We friends tho-"

Kai began wrestling someone at the comment.

You rest your head in your hands for a moment, just letting yourself calm down for a second whilst the duo rolled around on the floor, mock WWE fighting each other at the mere mention of Tyla's friend-zoning.

"What movie we thinkin'?" Duke asked the remainder of people on the sofa.

"We startin' without Ray?" Fanum questioned, Duke just shrugging and mumbling some answer.

"I could do with a horror," You yawned, Davis rolling his eyes and protesting instantly.

"What about a thriller? That's like soft horror, right?"

"The Outsider's one I been wanting to watch for time - check that out-"

"That shit looks scary as fuck, hell nah-"

"Let's watch the opening and if it's all that bad we can try a different film."

Duke pressed play on the movie, Kai breaking up the fight to jump back onto the sofa and settle into his seat to get ready to watch the movie - only to have it paused as the door opened - everyones' heads craning around as the door creaked.

In a pair of Hello Kitty pyjama bottoms and a plain white tee, Ray stood in the doorway.

"You finally come down?!" Kai jumped onto his feet and exclaimed at the quiet boy, Duke pausing the movie. "You was taking longer than HER to get ready!"

Ray looked down the group until he saw the person Kai jabbed his finger at. You. His dark eyes bore into yours, tracing down over your body ever so quickly before meeting with your eyes again. Kai noticing the pause and realising-

"OH- I been meanin' to introduce you two-"

"You Kai's cousin?" Ray questioned, his English broken up slightly, accent evident within his voice which wasn't exactly deep or husky, owning any particularly attractive qualities... but something about it was soothing on the ear, regardless.

"Yeah, you're Ray I'm guessing," You nodded, smiling up at the boy politely, expecting him to be courteous enough to smile back.

Your smile slid off your face as Ray didn't smile back, however. Rude, you thought, internally rolling your eyes and deciding that maybe you weren't all that bothered with someone who wouldn't even smile back at you.

But no, Ray was quite straightforwards in stepping around the boys towards you and giving you a handshake... Which felt strangely formal - until Ray kept his hand intertwined with you and pulled you up to your feet with surprising strength, making you let out the slightest of gasps as Ray put an arm around your back - pulling you into a hug instead.

Your hands slowly wrapped around his body in response - just slightly shocked at... Well, everything.

A) Whatthefuck he was STRONG?! Sure, you'd seen that he had muscles from his Instagram posts - but shit, he wasn't exactly ripped - and he certainly didn't look like he had enough muscle to lift you up just with one hand

B) Ohmyfuck, he's so comfortable just giving a hug? No awkwardness, no weird lead up, just coming over here in front of everyone and pulling me into a hug? That shit's nice as Hell I gotta admit-

C) Damn he smells good - is that like... Pine? Something warm and comforting a lil like vanilla... or maybe some sage too...?

D) OhmyLORD he is tall. You and Kai were both cursed blessed with the short genes of your families, and donned similar heights... Which meant that Ray practically enveloped you within his arms and hug, your head resting just below his chest in such a way you could feel a heat rising to your cheeks - making the blush you'd swiped onto your cheeks earlier futile, as your flustered feelings reflected on your cheeks.

You opened your eyes slightly as you felt your mind going into overdrive at the hug Ray gave - catching the expression of the people on the sofa as you did; Kai and Davis looking relatively normal, though Chris and Fanum donned expressions of suspicion - their minds clearly already sensing some tension or connection, and Agent beaming as though everything was coming together - Duke raising a brow with a knowing expression, as if he'd seen this coming and was encouraging you to continue with... with something(???)

Ray was the first to pull back, making you realise you'd just sorta grappled onto him and forgotten that a hug was only meant to last for a moment.

"You two is both the same age too, so I thought it'd be good for you two to be friends," Kai explained, making you laugh - trying to cover the way you were all too aware about the fact that Ray's arm remained around your shoulders following the hug, still holding you sorta close to his body.

"Thanks Uncle Cenat" You pointed out his behaviour.

"You two should go sit on that couch with each other," Agent gestured to the adjacent sofa. "Given there isn't space for another two of you here."

You watched as Duke subtly bumped his fist against Agent, them two thinking they were sooo smooth at the suggestion, making you just roll your eyes and stay silent - not opposed to what Agent had suggested, but not wanting to pressure Ray into it, or appear as too eager or enthusiastic when Ray might not've cared at all.

However Duke seemed to take your silence as an opportunity to drop more hints.

"She'll try cuddle you though, you gotta watch out-" Duke couldn't even finish his sentence without laughing - your eyes widening in horror at the betrayal you felt as Duke spewed the truth. "She likes hugging and bein all physical like that-"

Your face fell into your hands in horror, shaking your head from side to side as the crew on the sofa burst out laughing at Duke's lack of filter, embarrassing you to no end as you hid your burning face within your palms.

You were horrified Duke was baiting you out. What sick sorta plan did he have to get you two together which involved publicly shaming you?? You could still feel Ray's arm around your shoulders despite Duke's ridiculing, but you could already imagine the expression he would wear: a pitying smile or mocking laugh matching the rest of the gang.

Fucking embarrassing.

You chose to look up at Ray - let his expression tell you that you didn't have a single chance with him, now that you'd been outed and embarrassed for being an oddball. That he thought you were weird and that you had 0 chances of building some sort of connection or having a relationship with the only person anywhere near your age within the AMP house.

Yet to your surprise, as you looked up and your eyes met Ray's - you saw no expression you were expecting.

He was fine with it.

He had a blank, unbothered expression, and seemed more interested in you than anything Duke was flacking.

"You want to cuddle?" Ray questioned with no evident nor underlying judgement within his voice. Just a genuine question, in which he didn't seem opposed to the idea - just wanting to know whether Duke was being genuine or not - clearly not wanting to misread the situation and accidentally be too forwards with you.

Your tongue felt heavy, mind whirring into overdrive as you couldn't even begin to respond to his question - a blush forming on your cheeks as your eyes widened with shock even more - after all, you hadn't even expected Ray to want to talk to you. Let alone be so to-the-point with asking to cuddle.

He was a man of few words.

But the words that Ray did speak? They got straight to your heart, and regardless of whether he knew the effect of what he said, he was only making you more into him.

It felt like some sickening fever dream; a guy your age, attractive and forwards with gestures of interest - asking you to come cuddle him and literally fulfilling one of your few visceral cravings; your want for physical contact with someone satiated by Ray, who was willing to do exactly what you'd been craving.

It was just too bad you didn't know how to express it.

Ray's arm slipped away - leaving your shoulders as he advanced across the room, sitting on the adjacent sofa and seemingly leaving you as he manspread his legs out, one arm wrapping around the back of the seat next to him as he looked up and made eye contact with you.

"Come then," He spoke plainly, leaving it open to you as he pat the seat besides him with his hand.

The AMP boys on the sofa let out OOOOOO's of surprise, Duke and Agent grabbing onto and slapping each others' forearms to get each others' attention and ogle at the way that shit was working out. Kai had his brows furrowed in slight confusion despite his grin - just a bit suspicious of the way that Ray seemed to be making advances towards you. Not to mention that they seemed to be working.

But you personally?

You couldn't help but fixate on how good Ray looked. The way that he was sat with his legs spread, white tee pooling at the bottom and contrasting the darkness of his hair and eyes...

You knew you'd spent too long just awkwardly stood staring, and you decided not to let the awkward moment persist - crossing the room and following in Ray's steps as you sat down besides him, hands within your lap as you felt your leg brushing his - that being enough contact to satisfy your shy self for the moment.

"Yo, pass a blanket." Ray said to Fanum, his blunt demand being met with Fanum widening his eyes with shock at the confidence of the boy with you.

"Hell nah gang, I ain't letting you do shit under a blanket with her," Fanum became defensive, despite the smile on his face.

Agent was the one to throw a bundled up blanket over Fanum's head, reaching Ray and letting him unroll it with Fanum scolding Agent whilst Ray gave you a portion of the blanket, throwing it over your body and getting you comfy.

Duke pressed play on the movie, and the screen lit up with colours, allowing the introduction to play out and capture everyones' attention once more.

Ray's hand drifted from the back of the sofa to your shoulders, whispering a "You okay with this?" which you nodded in response to, leaning back into his arm and enjoying the weight of his arm around your back, hand resting against your shoulder - long fingers running down the length of your arm whilst his thumb rest across the top of your shoulder, parallel to your collarbone. Occasionally, he swiped his thumb over your shoulder in a comforting way, giving you shivers which you had to conceal each time he did it.

As the movie played out, the horror began unveiling itself, until the main character found themself alone, in the dark, walking with solely a torch through a liminal space which had your anxiety rising.

"This shit scary as fuck" You heard Ray mumble from besides you, shuffling closer whilst you could feel his arm muscles tensing in clear fear. You nodded with fear in your body also, every muscle anticipating a jumpscare... And feeling Ray shift closer, you leaned into his body too, letting your body meet with Ray's side, head leaning against his shoulder ever so slightly as if testing to see whether he'd back out... Which he didn't. In fact, his other arm wrapped around your shoulders too, his head behind yours as if whilst holding you he was shielding himself from the screen and the awaiting jumpscare.

It was laughable how scared he was, yet you didn't considering the fact that you were also (metaphorically) shitting it. No, instead you wrapped your hands around his arms which sat around your shoulders, gripping onto Ray and scooting yourself into Ray's body, as though uniting the two of you could save you from a jumpscare on the other side of the screen.

Of course, it didn't.

Screams and yells ricocheted around the room as the tension was released by the jumpscare.

Ray's hands tightened around your body at the scene whilst you yourself jumped at the shock, turning your face away from the screen and squeezing your eyes shut, subsequently hiding your face in the crook of Ray's neck, your forehead resting against his skin whilst his hand just accommodated his movement and rest against your lower back instead.

"That wasn't even that scary," You whispered into Ray's ear as you overcame the shock of the jumpscare, bodies still squished together, embracing just in case another surprise scare appeared.

"You joking?" Ray pulled back, eyes widening as he looked at you, whispering incredulously. "This some of the scariest thing I have ever seen..."

"It was just some goofy creature - we didn't even see what it was," You giggled quietly at the frightened boy, even making him smiling a little bit as though your laughter was contagious.

Ahem. The two of you lost eye contact as Fanum cleared his throat, giving the two of you a pointed look to say-

"Shut the fuck up - is what he's saying." Kai's energetic voice broke the atmosphere. "And stop with all that cute shit too Ray, I introduced you two to be friends, I don't like whatever you're doin'."

You felt a blush return to your cheeks, feeling almost caught by your psuedo-sibling. At least he was projecting his distaste onto Ray instead of you, though.

Rolling your eyes as Fanum raised his brows and gave you a shuthethefuckup look as well, you pulled the blanket up to your neck and tucked yourself further up into Ray's body, letting yourself relax into his side.

Your head leaned slowly towards Ray, eventually making contact with his shoulder and just resting there. His arm still tucked around your shoulders, both of your bodies covered with the blanket... You let out a yawn from the warmth the blanket wrapped you with, simulating a cosy duvet tucking you into bed.

"Tired?" Ray whispered, his head leaning on top yours. He was quiet, but you could still feel the vibrations of voice resonating from his chest and against your body which was still leant up against his.

"Lil bit," You replied, feeling your eyes getting heavy.

"You can lie against me-" Ray shuffled himself around a bit - causing you to detach your head groggily, allowing him to readjust himself before beckoning you back - letting you lie with your back towards the armrest - legs across his lap.

You appreciated Ray's accommodating nature and rotated yourself to swing your legs across his, resting your thighs in his lap and lying your body back against the armrest of the chair - though your body was still close enough to Ray's for him to keep an arm around your back - your body still close to his, now flush with his chest and front.

You rested a hand around Ray's body, sorta hugging him, sorta stabilising yourself. The action made a blush rise to your cheeks as you remembered a mere few hours ago when you were looking at his pictures on Instagram and the abs he had beneath that shirt, back when Agent and Duke had caught you and initially planned on trying to set you and Ray up.

You could feel your eyes getting heavier by the second, breathing slowing despite the pace of the movie which had only just started picking up - and it seemed as though Ray just needed to say one thing before you clocked out.

"You're very pretty." His voice was soft. Quiet, as to not let the boys across the room hear. And his fingers gently ran through your hair as you lay back, near to falling asleep - though his words send impulses down your accelerator nerve, increasing your heartrate.

"Big talk from you," You smiled, returning the compliment. "Your insta pictures are... Nice."

Ray's face broke into a smile, his lips curling upwards - more towards the right than the left - his right eye crinkling with the muscles that uncontrollably contracted in response to the pride that glowed within him from the compliment.

"What you doing tomorrow?" The simple question came.

Was he fucking asking you out???

"Uhm, I think... probably working most of the day..."

"You free tomorrow night?" God he was persistent, and God you fucking loved that he wasn't gonna let go.

"Should be, yeah..."

"You want to go out?" Ray questioned. "With me?"

You literally felt your heart exploding, warmth erupting within your stomach happy chemicals flowing through your body at the fact Ray was interested.

Nodding your head with the fattest smile unwipeable from your lips, Ray grinned at your reaction also, nodding to seal the deal.

"I will take you out," Ray spoke happily, still quiet as to not catch the other guys' attentions. "Date style, yeah?"

"Date style." You nodded in agreement, giggling slightly at the fact Ray needed clarification. Cutie.

"I meant it when I said shut the fuck up, you two." Kai shushed the two of you, eyes glued to the screen but viewing experience diminished by your quietly unintelligible conversation in the corner.

"Sorry!" You apologised quickly, grin evident in your voice from the ecstatic feeling that flowed through your body, having been asked out. And Duke and Agent heard your smile within your voice - turning with knowing smiles towards you.

And this time, instead of rolling your eyes or hiding from Agent or Duke, you grinned back, nodding your head as if to say Yeah, it's working out.

Duke's grin multiplied by tenfold, biting down on his lip to try not to laugh out of excitement for the two of you - your first big shipper. Agent however, rolled his eyes, and you watched as a bill slipped from Agent's pocket into Duke's awaiting palm - wiping the smile of your face and replacing it with a look of confusion which Agent noticed.

Taking out his phone, Agent avidly pressed the screen, before looking up - your phone vibrating from your hoodie pocket.

3 New Messages

Agent: Lol before u came down we bet on what'd happen

Agent: Duke bet that you'd end up successfully making moves

Agent: I bet against lol

You: I'm glad you lost that money.

You slipped your phone back into your pocket, breathing out a breath of relief, contentment and tiredness as you got back into a comfortable position - eyes shutting, head becoming heavy and leaning against Ray's chest where he tucked the blanket around your back and put his arm around your shoulders, his fingers finding purchase within your hair and comfortingly running through the curls you'd rolled up an hour ago.

And listening to Ray's heartbeat and feeling his body warm yours through his white tee - ambient noises of the TV in the background as you slowly inhaled and exhaled, drinking in Ray's comforting cologne, you felt yourself slowly slipping away and happily falling asleep in his arms.

BONUS!

Waking up the next day, you were not happy with what you saw on Twitter.

FANUM

I was gonna do a stream having these two mfs meet up but they already seem pretty fuckin cosy 😭

AMP Kai FUCK IS TS i gotta have some mfkn words w Ray 😭 Arm round her n all - I DONT FUCK W THIS BEHAVIOUR WHEN IT INVOLVES MY CUS 🙏🙏 AMP updates 👀👀👀👀 SpeedyBeta WHAT IS THIS WHAT DID I MISS??? TheFroggyBoggy ONG GIRLLL HOW'D THEY GO FROM NOT KNOWING WHO EACH OTHER WERE ON THE STREAM TO BEIN LIKE THIS SpeedyBeta LITR HAHHA SUPER CUTE THO <33

Duke Dennis

He didn't even ask me for no rizz tips.

AMP Agent Still can't believe you won the bet smh 🙄😒 Atl smth acc happened here ✅ KingKennysimp101 Damn the spooning w the blanket n all?? I'm sorry i wasn't familiar with ur game Ray 😭😭🙏🙏🙏 AMP Kai I'm gonna be having damn words with that boy. AMP Davis She aint gonna like this post Duke 😭😭😭 Y/n You're damn right ab that Davis AMP Davis Duke your ass better be running💀💀 Duke Dennis Omw back to Atlanta as we speak 🙏

It's so wild that my first proper write for AMP is for Ray 😭😭 Hopefully this has drawn in some of the AMP girlies tho bc i have a fic in the work for DUKE, FANUM, and AGENT!

(add urself to my taglist if u wanna be notified for when i post them)

Hope you enjoyed reading!! Feel free to interact- whether that be a comment, vote or follow! Requests open, feel free to submit what u wanna see... Much love!!

To see more for AMP and other YouTubers, here's my MASTERLIST

And here's my WATTPAD, with 50+ more oneshots to read

p.s. Customise which Oneshots YOU want to be tagged in by submitting your preferences on THIS GOOGLE FORM

TAGLIST: (sorry I didn't do it last night i fell asleep b4 I could)

@kennysimp101 @speedybeta @thefroggyboggy @zomburexia @zandrax @supaprettyg @gyu-baby @spiritualz @daniiixoxo @koritoji @smh-anon @lila702980 @star-32 @mym3lodii @betashully @fillysmypookie @janialovesbetasquad @lisask8s @mcddyperez

[thewritingbeforesunrise]

Object of Desire.

18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI

______________________________________

A/N: I really couldn't stop thinking about this scenario, and I had to write it down.

Word count: 2.7K

Warnings: NSFW 18+ONLY, graphic sexual content, dirty talk, swearing, angst, angry!Jake.

Summary: Jake is having a hard time making certain things work.

________________________________

A crash followed by a loud curse echoed from the inside of the studio.

It was very late and the few people still lingering around took that as a sign that it was way better to leave before hell broke loose.

The door of the first recording room opened and Daniel was the first one to exit, swiftly followed by Sam. The two of them basically ran out of the door looking worried and exhausted while more shouting came from the inside. Two voices were overlapping and growing in volume every second more.

The door was almost closing when it bursted open violently, hitting the wall like someone had kicked it hard.

“Well, I might be an obnoxious diva but you really need to learn how to play that fucking guitar again Jakey, you are slowing us down. So you better pull it together and control it because you are sounding like shit.” Josh came out of the room with his hands flailing, still facing inside and shouting to his brother on top of his lungs.

Then he grasped the door and slammed it shut before the half empty bottle of wine that Jake threw towards him could hit him straight in the face.

A loud “fuck off” echoed from the room at the same time that the bottle shattered with a booming crash against the wood of the door, sending shards and drops of wine everywhere.

Then, after that, the building fell completely silent.

Inside the recording room Jake was fuming with anger.

His ears were ringing and his chest was heaving. He was very hot and his already unbuttoned shirt was sticking to his skin uncomfortably, making him feel trapped and intensifying his anger.

He immediately took it off and threw it across the floor, exhausted.

It landed in a corner right next to the guitar, his beloved, that he had thrown to the floor a few minutes before everyone ran away and Josh accused him of not knowing how to play it anymore.

A renewed fit of anger filled his heart and he quickly crossed the room.

He harshly grabbed his beloved guitar from the floor and slammed it down on the table with so much force that the sound it made had a shiver run down his spine.

That bitch had been giving him troubles all day. It just wouldn't let him play it properly and he didn't know what the hell was wrong with it. The only thing he knew was that he needed to find that out as soon as possible.

He grabbed it by the fretboard and slung the strap over his shoulder. Then he plugged it into his amp and started playing a song he had played an indecent amount of times and that he knew like the back of his hands.

A few seconds later he was huffing out a curse under his breath. Something was wrong.

The notes sounded weird, in an almost sinister way and he didnt know why.

Frustration was slowly getting the better of him, so he sat down on the sofa with the guitar still on his lap and opened the bottle of Pinot Grigio that someone had placed right next to the sofa at the beginning of their useless recording session.

He uncorked the bottle and took a few long gulps right from it, without even bothering to go grab a glass.

Then he closed his eyes and rested his pounding head against the back of the couch for a few minutes, hoping that the wine would clear his mind and ease his nerves a bit.

With a renewed glimmer of hope, he tuned the instrument again, even though he knew that that wasn't the problem and this time he tried to improvise something.

An hour later, the bottle of wine was empty but Jake was still drowning in despair and anger. He kept trying to come up with a decent new riff but he produced nothing that sounded even remotedly like it used to when his fingers stroked the frets of his beloved.

It had been love at first sight between that little horned cherry-red devil and his twelve-year-old self. Inside that shop so many years ago with the first note he played he knew that she was the one.

But right now he was not so sure anymore.

The umpteenth wrong note echoed into the room, despite the guitar was perfectly tuned and that sent Jake spiraling.

A violent fit of anger coursed through his body.

He stood, ripped the guitar from his sweaty body and slammed it on the same table as before. Another hideous sound left the instrument from the violent impact and Jake lost it completely.

With a scream, he ripped all the strings from the guitar so hard that he even sliced his middle finger open with one of them.

Blood slowly started to drip out of the cut and onto the wood, creating a grim contrast with the red of the instrument but Jake didn't even notice at first. He was blinded by anger in a way that he didn't remember to have ever experienced before.

Without thinking he grabbed the neck of his guitar, bent over it and started whispering.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, hm? Why are you being such a bitch tonight? Are you fucking jealous because I played other guitars all day long?” He hissed like he was referring to an actual person, his lips grazing the wood and metal of the fretboard in a snare.

He knew he sounded completely out of his mind and that the entire scene might have granted him a one way ticket to a psychiatric ward but he had reached the point of no return.

At that moment a single crackle sound came from his amp and Jake froze in place.

A strange feeling crept up his spine making him shiver.

And then the thought that invaded his brain made him feel utterly helpless and crazy.

‘That sounded like an answer’ he thought but then shook his head because he refused to believe that.

It was true. That morning one of his closest friends brought to the studio many guitars, one more rare and prestigious than the other and he had a lot of fun playing a lot of them for a few takes. He did that because he wanted to spice things up a little bit and render his playing a bit more dynamic with the new album.

That evening however, since he was tired from playing that many different guitars, he needed to fall back on the one which he knew even better than his very soul.

But somehow he couldn't make it work this time.

He felt so stupid for even thinking that his beloved guitar, an inanimate object, could be sentient and could give him a hard time because of that.

He straightened his back and mustered up the courage to ask the same question again, but this time nothing happened. His voice just echoed into the empty room in a peculiar way.

“I’m wasted” he scoffed at himself and laughed out loud. He started pitying himself, and moved away from the table to go get some fresh air outside, hoping that it could help him clear his mind.

He reached for the door but, as soon as he placed his sweaty hot hand against the cool metal of the knob, another noise echoed from the single cabinet on the other side of the room.

At first he thought it was the usual creaking of old wooden furniture but then he heard it again and this time it sounded more like something metallic hitting wood.

He slowly turned around but everything was in perfect order.

He was just thinking about the fact that the wine had fucked him up pretty good when he heard it again, louder this time.

It was coming from the bottom drawer of the cabinet where he usually kept his new guitar strings just in case one broke during the recording.

His heart was hammering in his chest and his head was spinning a little, but he decided to investigate further anyway.

He slowly approached the cabinet and crouched down. He reached for the knob and mentally counted to three before firmly yanking the drawer open.

Immediately he jumped away scared by what he saw, falling on his ass on the floor and then he burst out laughing like a maniac.

Inside, the guitar strings that he had placed there that morning wrapped in a neat circle had unrolled and, as soon as he opened the drawer, they had burst out, scaring him to death.

He laughed again, shaking his head and watching how they bobbed everywhere.

Then he decided that that was a sign. The sign he should restring his guitar and play whatever it came to his mind.

He stood, grabbed the strings and the tools he needed and moved back to the table.

He also noticed the blood on his hand and grabbed a paper towel to clean himself and stop the blood from flowing further.

Before getting to work he even grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and chugged half of it. The coolness of the liquid helped him clear his mind a bit. At least his head wasn't spinning anymore.

He carefully started placing the new strings where they belonged with one hand while keeping the body of the guitar still with the other.

He tightened the first one and was about to place another when the hand that was holding the guitar still slipped slightly, making the lower part of the instrument bump against his crotch.

He tried again and again his hand slipped, making the guitar press against his hips like it happened seconds before.

He was slowly getting fed up by everything again.

He let go of the guitar, wiped his sweaty hands against his jeans and began again.

This time he held the guitar a bit more harshly, making his knuckles turn white.

He correctly placed another four strings and he was about to reach for the last one when his hold slipped and the instrument ended up pressing against his crotch again.

He groaned and involuntarily pressed his hips back against it, feeling himself twitch in his boxers.

Then, as if recovering from a momentaneous blackout, he shook his head, reprimanded himself and tried again to place the final string.

An imperceptible blush covered his cheeks, and he told himself it was because of the anger but in reality he was starting to feel aroused, something that happened to him often when he irresponsibly paired wine with anger.

He successfully placed the last string and a sigh of relief left his lips. Then he started turning the tuning peg to tighten it but the guitar slipped from his grasp again, this time pressing into his tense balls and causing a little twinge of pain.

But instead of recoiling from it, he felt his hips move forward almost without his control. He pressed his now growing erection against the wood and he had to bite his lips to stiffen a groan of pleasure.

He stopped himself hastily and bent over his guitar, pressing his sweaty forehead against the cool surface of the table and questioning what the hell he was doing.

After a few seconds he straightened his back, exhaling a curse through gritted teeth and tightened his hands against the body of his guitar.

“Fuck it” he said and started pressing his hips against the lower curve of the instrument.

Instantly, pleasure started coursing through his body and the rhythm of his hips intensified to chase his release.

During every push of his hips Jake felt like his guitar was slowly countering his thrusts fucking itself against him. He tried to change his rhythm and the instrument matched it effortlessly and impeccably.

He stopped overthinking what he was doing and quickly fumbled with the button and zipper of his jeans letting go of the guitar.

When finally he managed to pull his pants and boxers down to his ankles, setting himself free and placed his trembling hands back against the body of the guitar, it almost felt like it was vibrating imperceptibly as if in anticipation of his next movements.

When the delicate flushed skin of his engorged cock made contact with the smooth cool wood of the guitar a whimpery moan left his spit-slicked lips and he had to bite them to stop himself from screaming.

He moved his hands to grip the wood better and, as his fingers involuntarily grazed the strings, a low note echoed into the room, vibrating through his body and making him shiver.

“Please, do it again” he heard his own voice beg but didn't notice his lips moving with the words.

He grazed his fingers gently against the strings one more time while thrusting his hips and he almost doubled over in pleasure as the guitar slipped again from his grasps and pressed against his balls.

Jake knew he was slowly losing his mind but the fact that it really looked and felt like his guitar was making him fuck her was terrorising and arousing him at the same time.

He quickened his rhythm, fingering the strings unashamedly now as if his guitar was a flesh-and-blood woman under his grasp begging him for more and more.

The vibrations of the music were bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

After a few seconds he noticed that his hands were replicating the same pattern without knowing and his heart skipped a beat.

That was it.

The new riff he was looking for.

Right there.

Where it had always been.

He just needed a little bit of help to bring that sound out of his jumbled mind.

The vibrations coming from the guitar had his back arching with a loud unbridled moan as his nails dug into the wood of the instrument.

He knew he was getting closer and closer.

Embracing his moment of insanity he bent again over his guitar while thrusting his flushed cock rapidly against the wood that was already sleek with sweat and precome.

“Am I fucking you good, baby? Is this what you wanted all along, hm? You wanted me to treat you like my one and only bitch, didn't you? Now take it, slut.” He whispered dirtily towards his guitar as his thrusts quickened even more.

Another crackle sounded from the amp behind him and a note sounding like a moan resounded from the guitar, making him bare his teeth towards the instrument.

“C'mon Beloved, sing for me a little more. But make it dirty.” he addressed the guitar once again and, as if on command, the moment his fingers grazed the frets another riff sounded into the room making Jake’s toes curl.

“Fuck, yes, just like that” he heard himself moan, as his body twitched and spasmed against his guitar. His hair was damp with sweat by then, as was his entire body, and kept swaying back and forth in time with his lewd movements.

One last drawn out low note that was dripping sex and darkness echoed into the room and right through his body making him reach his high.

He watched mesmerized as his cock hardened even more and tensed, exposing his many veins and then, with a long prolonged moan, he admired as ropes of pearlescent come covered and ruined the polished wood of the instrument.

When finally he had regained a bit of his composure he straightened his back and huffed out a little breathy laugh.

Then he bent over his guitar one last time and licked it clean from his release almost hungrily.

With the pointed tip of his tongue he collected the last white drop from a string and the single note that reverberated into the room gave him yet another new idea.

Immediately he straightened his back, tied his hair in a low bun and pulled his boxers and pants back up.

Then he grabbed his beloved, slung the strap over his shoulder and went to press the recording button only to discover that it was already on.

And he really didn't remember turning it on.

___________________________

Taglist: @gvfpal @sammyslappers @spark-my-nature @highladyofasgard @sparrowofthedawnsworld @jessicafg03 @doodle417 @hellowgoodbye @ejoygvf @jaketlover @jakekiszkasbabymama @objectsinspvce @indigostreakmorgan @witchofendora @myleftsock @gretavanshmeat @gretasfallingsky @giraffehippy @jennasometimesreads @katiegvf @sinarainbows @laney_gvf @themorningbirds @starcatcherchords @lipstickitty @meetingthestardust @joshskittytickler @livkiszka @twistedmelodies @ignite-my-fire @gvfmarge @writingcold @brujamagik @edgingthedarkness @gold-mines-melting

@mindastreamofcolours @blacksoul-27 @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @mapelsyrup07 @klarxtr @takenbythemadness @peaceloveunitygvf @lyndz2names @jazzyfigz @its-interesting-van-kleep @katuschka @fleet-of-fiction @lvnterninthenight @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @hollyco @i-love-gvf

[poinsexter]

7 Minutes in Heaven {obx - jm}

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem Pogue!Reader (kinda some John B x reader if you squint)

Summary: pogue!reader gets selected for a game of 7 Minutes in Heaven with JJ—this should be no big deal, right?

Warnings: drinking, smoking, swearing, suggestive flirting, idk? Mild angst. Mostly fluff

Word count: 2,671

A/N: hiii this is my first time ever posting my own lil fanfic to tumblr. I’m sorry if there are any errors:(( I usually write original fiction but this was in my head and I couldn’t get it out. I hope someone gets some enjoyment from it <3 there is a John B alt ending written but idk if I’ll post. Let me know what you beauties thinnnnk:)

When a game of ‘Never Have I Ever’ didn’t sound juicy enough to the sexed up tourons, a blue-shirt wearing frat bro suggested everyone partake in a game of 7 Minutes In Heaven.  The pogues were never one to back down from a challenge—least of all you, who’d kissed all of your friends at some point or another.

You took a sip of beer from the paper cup in your hand, but not even drowning yourself in drinks could save you as John B and a touron girl exited the closet, heralding your turn next. He wore a lazy, drunken smile, dancing to the beachy music thumping from a nearby amp. 

“Tourons pick the lamest party games.” You hid your bundle of stress underneath a coy joke. “We could be playing flip cup instead.”

“You were laughing when it was Sarah and me.” Kie filed into the room next with a fresh beer in hand, brushing your cheek with the other hand as she passed. “Not so smug now, babes, huh?”

She plopped down on the arm of the chair Pope sat on with his feet kicked up, rolling a backwood.

“Of course it’s funny when it’s not me. That’s how it works,” you said. 

John B’s laugh rang out as he orbited around your back, to your side, appearing in your peripheral. You turned slightly, cup pressed against your bottom lip.

“How about you finish off that liquid courage,” John B used his index finger to tip the bottom of the cup up to goad you into chugging. You tried not to laugh into the drink as you complied, drinking the remainder of its contents. “Atta girl. Now lighten up, buzz kill, ‘cause it’s your turn.” 

You tossed the now-empty cup at his head with a laugh, watching as he swatted it away. “Like you need an excuse to makeout with someone in a closet.” 

“Seven minutes of swapping bacteria.” Pope chimed in from his spot on the recliner as he sparked the lighter. “In the best way possible.”

Kie crossed her arms. “You don’t have to kiss anyone.”

JJ burst around the corner into the room, beer spilling from the bottle in his hand as he caught the last half of the conversation. “Hey, don’t say that! We all have to follow the rules.”

“What rules, JJ?” You rolled your eyes. “The ones you pull out of your ass?” 

“Yeah, I can jot them down for you.” He feigned looking around the room, touching his chest for imaginary pencil pockets as the bottle sloshed in his hand. “Anyone got a pen? Maybe a marker? Crayon, perhaps?”

“Alright, alright, I get it!” You conceded with another laugh. “Pour me up a shot and let me make someone’s day!”

Kie hopped off the couch with a grin and began lining up shot glasses on the counter. JJ’s hand cradled the small of your back while John B approached your other side, watching as JJ poured a messy line of contents from the tap across all of the shot glasses. 

Every pogue picked one up, preparing to throw them back, when John B took the one from your hand and raised a mischievous brow. “Open up, little loverrr.”

You gave a wide grin before obeying the command, opening up your mouth and sticking out your tongue to prepare for the waterfall of liquor. 

John B tossed back his own shot in one fluid motion before pouring the second shot into your mouth. Once the contents were fully polished off you squeezed your eyes shut as an involuntary shiver ran through you, the warmth working  its way down your throat and through your chest. 

“You missed some.” John B grabbed your cheeks and yanked you closer, playfully slurping the backsplash from the skin around the corner of your mouth and cheek. 

“HEYYY NOW!” JJ gave an energetic clap of his hands before pointing at you and John B. “Save it for the closet!” 

You shoved John B away from you with laughter almost as if he were an over-zealous puppy before leaning over to smack JJ’s arm. “Oh please, I know you have your fingers crossed hoping it’s me and you.”

You didn’t interpret the playful action as John B making a move on you despite JJ’s joke. You were all particularly affectionate with each other—and for as affectionate as you were, you also gave each other just as much shit. 

“Alright, it’s TIME!” said Kie, grabbing you by the shoulders and steering you in Pope’s direction.  “Pull the name.”

Pope remained on the couch, but now had a ball cap flipped upside down in his hand with jumbled up scraps of paper inside. He grumbled. “I don’t know how I ended up relegated to this role.”

“Because you’re the most trustworthy,” said Kie. “And the least likely to fuck it up.”

“Can’t argue there.” Pope pulled a piece of paper from the cap. “You will be joined by…” he unfurled the paper. “JJ!”

As JJ looked over at you with that arrogant flirty ease, you couldn’t place why you suddenly felt a spike of nerves. Your feet almost felt as if they had forgotten how to work, with Sarah swooping in to usher you toward the closet, JJ not far behind.

Seven minutes in a closet should be nothing compared to all the drunken nights you’d cuddled up on the chateau’s pullout couch together. The party was in full swing, the perfect time to cut loose, and still, you couldn’t fight the soft apprehension prickling at your palms. 

The closet in question was unlike anything you’d grown up with, but that was to be expected anytime you partied at a kook house. It was more akin to a closet like Sarah’s, though it wasn’t overflowing with near as much color or fun crop tops as hers.

You looked around at the designer labels and scrunched your nose. “God, why do kooks need such big closets?”

“Yeah, I’m not digging all the space between us.” Without warning, JJ slipped an index finger into the belt loop of your jeans and pulled you closer until you were only inches apart. “Much better, thanks for the cooperation, princess.”

“You’re getting way too much enjoyment out of this, it’s worrying.”

“Afraid I’ll bite?” He clacked his teeth in your face playfully, smirking when he couldn’t make you flinch. 

“Biting doesn’t scare me.” You couldn’t help yourself as you pressed in closer to his face, daring him to retaliate. “You’ll have to try harder, Jay.”

He dropped his hold on the belt loop and pressed his hands into you stomach, shoving you against the wall until you back was flush with the surface, caught between the cold of the wall and the warmth of his body. 

“How about now, cupcake? Scared?” He paused and lifted a brow, smirk sweeping up his mouth. He leaned closer. “That toe-curling thing you’re feeling is called sexual tension, my friend.”

Said tension between you was palpable, even after he slacked to give you the space back, satisfied with the effect he’d visibly had on you. Words died in your throat. For the first time ever, you were speechless. JJ, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease, content to chatter away.

“We had our first kiss in a closet just like this one.” JJ looked delighted by the memory. "You remember?”

”Don’t call it ‘our first kiss’ like we were ever a thing.” Your composure faltered, but it was a fond memory nonetheless. “Shame on me for choosing ‘dare’ over ‘truth’—I thought I’d get to do something cool like scale a flag pole, but no. Got stuck sucking face with you.” 

"Okay, ouch,” he feigned offense, clutching his chest. “I've gotten a lot better at kissing since then.” 

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the heat that was creeping up your neck. "Well, we were like thirteen, so I’d really hope so."

JJ leaned in a little closer again. "I've been thinking about that kiss a lot lately, you know.”

Your walls went up, afraid of being vulnerable. He’d played with your feelings one too many times over the years out of boredom. You used to think when he was flirting he meant it, and that had led to too much confusion. Rather than pine over him forever, you’d grown comfortable with your role of best friend.

Anything more—girlfriend, fuck buddy, situationship—would spell nothing but trouble.

You deflected by teasing him. “You’ve been thinking about a bad kiss from middle school? Find better hobbies.”

“That’s the thing—I need to redeem myself,” he said. “You never wonder what it would be like to try it again now that we’re older? More… seasoned?”

“Don’t be dumb.” Your heart skipped a beat, but you tried not to let it show. "This is just a fun party game, not an opportunity for you to get lucky.”

“What does that cute little tattoo on your ass say again?” He snapped his fingers and feigned as if recalling. “Lucky you.” 

You made a sputtering noise, floored by the comeback. You’d been in a bikini around the pogues enough times that they’d likely all seen the edge of said tattoo, but he would have had to pay attention to read it. 

“God, you are such a shameless flirt!” You picked up a sandal from the closet floor and began smacking him with it. “What is with you tonight? You’re gonna start humping the keg stand before the party is over—“

“I wouldn’t be the man you know and love unless I flirted without remorse.” JJ flinched away from the sandal, laughing at your reaction. "Come on, you have to admit there's chemistry between us."

You felt a jolt of electricity shoot through your body at his words. He was right, but you didn't know what to do about it—so again, you deflected. “You have chemistry with anything that has tits and legs.” 

“Nah, it’s different with us,” he insisted. “And I’ll prove it.”

Before you could respond, JJ took a daring step forward, his hand cupping your cheek as his lips met yours in a searing kiss. It was gentle initially, testing the waters to see what you were okay with. As the kiss lingered, JJ took it as a sign to deepen things, the pace growing hungrier between you.  

Your initial surprise gave way to something more passionate and explorative. Warmth pooled in your thighs as he tangled him hands in your hair, tongue making sensuous circles with your own. It was a moment suspended in time as your friendship burned away, scorching the earth until it became something uncharted. He awoke dormant feelings in you—emotions for him that you thought you’d long buried came rising to the surface at full force like a geyser.

“Seven minutes is up!” John B’s voice rang out.

You barely had time to fall apart from each other as the door pried open. A gasp tore through your mouth, accompanied by a jolt of surprise. For a brief moment it had only been you and JJ - the party on the other side of the door had completely disappeared to you. 

John B leaned against the doorframe, gazing down at the wild blush staining your cheeks. Something like understanding registered in his gaze at the look on your face, but he quickly recovered the cool-guy charm. 

“Either you crazy kids come out, or I’m gonna get serious FOMO and have to join.”

“Squeeze in, man, you’ll love it.” JJ leaned his head against your shoulder and smiled, looking completely unaffected by what had happened. “Plenty of room. Too much, honestly.”

You rolled your eyes, not understanding how he could be so jovial and collected as your heart threatened to pump out of your chest.

“No threesomes in this living room, alright, this ain’t a Hugh Hefner party.” said Pope. “Come smoke this blunt and stop being weird.”

As you exited the confines of the closet, which had felt like it’s own world, you couldn't help but wonder what might have happened if you had been in the closet for even a minute longer. Would hands have roamed further? Would JJ have had time to confess he was just fucking around with you, only he took it a bit farther than usual? You didn’t even know what you’d want him to say. 

There wasn’t enough time to process what was happening or the repercussions of it—only that in the moment it had felt really, really good being with JJ. Whatever the absolute fuck that was about. 

The unspoken tension had found its voice in that kiss, marking the beginning of the end. You didn’t know how you could look him in the eyes again after feeling his hands knotting through your hair. How could a moment change everything? 

You avoided JJ for the next several hours, wrapping your mind around what had happened. If the other pogues noticed, they didn’t call you out on it. Not openly, anyway. Kie and John B were not subtle as they gossiped in hushed whispers, glancing between you and JJ at your two different places across the party. 

Eventually, the drinks caught up to you. Coping with your alien feelings by attempting to numb them with alcohol hadn’t worked, of course, so now not only were you mentally spiraling but had also come down with a bad case of the spins.

To anchor yourself back to the moment, you slipped away from the party, which was just now starting to teeter off from its full swing, and exited out of the back door of the mansion onto a vacant area of porch.

Salty sea and crisp nighttime air instantly offered reprieve to your racing mind as you walked over to the wooden railing of the porch and leaned against it, reveling in the quiet. 

A few minutes later, your quiet was disturbed by the sound of the sliding glass door opening up behind you. You turned to look at who’d followed, heart nearly leaping from your chest at the sight of JJ.  

“Hey, you okay out here?” He stuck his head out of the door, quiet concern on his face. You nodded without verbal response. “Is it cool if we talk for a minute?”

You nodded again, feeling a nervous knot forming in your stomach. You didn’t want to imagine what he would say next. Still, you were both here now, and there was no use in prolonging the inevitable. “What's up?”

He closed the door behind himself. Here it comes, you thought. He’s going to confess that he was just teasing you—it meant nothing to him. All one big, meaningless flirt brought on by his name being pulled from a random lottery. If it’d been John B’s name called over JJ’s, JJ may have never looked at you twice otherwise. Not any differently than usual, anyway. Why did that possibility hurt so much? 

“About the game…” He approached your side at the porch railing, looking less sure of himself than normal. “I know you’ve been avoiding me.” 

Your reply was short. “Astute observation.”

“Don’t do that—don’t shut down.” His eyes cut right through you. “Look, I - I have something to admit.”

You steeled yourself for him to say something that would break you, but you wouldn’t show it. “Don’t leave me in suspense, Jay.”

“I’m sorry if I crossed a line by kissing you before…” There was a pause too long in the air as he contemplated whether or not to say the next words.  “I bribed Pope to make sure he called my name for your turn.”

“You… what?”

“Don’t be mad.” He squeezed his eyes shut as if an admission of guilt physically pained him. After all, his motto had always been ‘deny, deny, deny.’ “It may or may not have been John B’s name on the paper that Pope actually pulled, but I’d slid him a $20 beforehand to make sure no one else got you.” 

The uneasiness in your stomach slowly transformed into butterflies, tickling all the way up your throat until it evolved into belly-aching laughter. He wasn’t toying with you because he was bored or because it was convenient. He orchestrated this. 

The laughter confused him. “Is that – wait – why are you laughing?”

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me again.”

His features brightened, eyes glowing with a new, consuming adoration. He swept you in closer and brought his mouth down to yours, talking against your lips. “God, I’m so glad you said that. Playing it cool has been driving me crazy.”

[hariboz]

. . . YOU’RE WHO?

“their reactions to someone calling themselves your work husband in front of them!”

pairing: zb1 hyung line x gn!reader

genre: fluff <3, humour

warning: pretty lighthearted, light cursing

notes: hi hello this is my first post!! congrats to my jebewon for debuting 🥹 as a pre-bp stan i’m so happy to see them so loved and well received 🫶🏻 ALSO ty to my jebis for reigniting my love for writing <3 i’d love to find some zerose moots!! just hit me up, either in my dms or my asks <33

✦ * 💭 ⊹ 김지웅 ; JIWOONG

ooooh cocky bastard!! (lovingly)

kind of cocks his head to the side and just goes, “hm?”…😮‍💨

pretends he doesn’t get it but he actually just wants to see the guy’s face crumble while your coworker is scrambling to explain

“oh it’s just a joke between us—“ and the guy tries to throw his arm over your shoulder but jiwoong is quicker and pulls you into his side

makes a show of wrapping his arm around you, giving you the most dazzling smile, just amping up the charisma and charm

refuses to leave your side the whole evening and interjects every time your ‘work husband’ tries to talk to you

makes your female coworkers swoon from afar!! makes you two look so lovey-dovey and your ‘work husband’ is d y i n g inside the whole evening

gives the guy a firm handshake when you bid your goodbyes and hits him with the “i’m the only husband around here, i think,” SOMEONE TAKE HIM AWAY IMMEDIATELY!!

genuinely does not care as long as the guy treats you fine and isn’t being creepy towards you

almost treats the guy like a kid that has a crush on you when you bring him up when you talk about your day 😭

keeps teasing you afterwards, brings it up for fun every time and thinks he’s soooooo funny

“woongie you can’t just—“ “well, you have a whole husband on the side—“ someone shut him uppppp!!

✦ * 💭 ⊹ 장하오 ; HAO

oh he loves it, but not in the “oh this is cute” way but rather in the “this is great, we’ll have so much to laugh at later on our way home,” way

kind of eggs you on to feed into him…to see how far the guy will go…

“oh really? that’s so sweet!” “you never told me about this husband of yours, honey..”

you just wanna 🦵 👨🏻

the guy fails to pick up on the sarcasm that practically drips from hao’s voice and gets more confident in his comments towards you…

oh he’s evil!! but also steps in if it goes too far; he might enjoy the entertainment but no one gets to disrespect his relationship to his face!!

the atmosphere kind of dips when your coworker offers to take you home when you mention that you’re getting tired to hao, since it’s “his job as a husband”

hao looks at you in utter disbelief like?? did that guy just insinuate what he thinks he was insinuating….while hao’s right there…?!

worst stink eye you’ve ever seen from hao just staring daggers into the guy 😭

takes your hand and says goodbye to everyone except for your ‘work husband’ and when you look back before getting out the door you can just see the guy absolutely fuming

“never speak to him again.” “i work with him…every day…” “i don’t care!!”

is genuinely concerned that the guy is being weird to you but covers it up with some lighthearted jealousy to make you laugh :’)

“hao, i got you some treats on my way home!” “how do i know these aren’t just your husbands left overs…” you hate him

“you should start calling him the office divorcee.” BYE

✦ * 💭 ⊹ 성한빈 ; HANBIN

hates it but no one is none the wiser with the way he politely smiles and laughs along

except for you!! you know him and you can see the irritation building up behind his smile

all 😆 on the outside but very much 😒 on the inside

you try to reassure him but he’s just like, “i’m fine! this is fine! i’m so glad you have such a close friend at work!” when you can just see him dying inside

your coworker hears this and tries to interject ‘jokingly’ and hits hanbin with the, “well actually we’re not just friends—“ but you elbow him to get him to shut up like!! bro who do you think you are!!

the friendly look on hanbin’s face falters for just a second but you can just tell he’s seething inside

so you sneak him a little kiss and he lightens up just a little <3

he just wants to leave and take you home and cuddle with you he’s so sick and tired of this random ass man playing pretend with his partner!!

but he doesn’t want to make a scene!! because he’s scared it would make you look bad if your actual boyfriend lashes out over a ‘joke’ so he just…smiles and endures it 🫠

looks the happiest you have seen him all day when you tell him it’s time to leave, has a spring in his step and beams at everyone when bidding his goodbyes lmao

remains super suspicious of that coworker!! essentially perks up when you mention him like 🤨 just waiting for you to tell him he did something weird so he can finally march over there and let him have it!!

genuinely tells you that he doesn’t like how the guy calls himself your husband and you promise you’ll tell him off if he ever utters the word husband in your vicinity again and hanbin’s just giggling and smiley like 🥰 yes thank you bb

✦ * 💭 ⊹ 석매튜 ; MATTHEW

immediately picks up on the joking nature of it and actually brushes it off at first!

it’s just a joke!! and it’s kinda cute, right? who is he to assume any nefarious business!! just a joke!!

…right? right?!

but his mood gets sour rather quickly when your coworker keeps lingering around you two..when he keeps trying to butt into your conversations…bringing up stuff that happened at work that matthew has no idea about…

he’s stuck to you like glue and matt’s getting a little irritated to be honest?? there’s so many other people here, why does he keep circling back to you when your boyfriend is here??

when he interrupts you two being all cute and giggling again, matt kinda loses it but not in a confrontational way!

“man, is there no one else you can bother? maybe an actual partner instead of trying to hog mine??”

your coworker is speechless, staring at you two and you have to try so hard to bite back a laugh

he leaves huffing and puffing and you’re pretty sure he’ll ignore you at work from now but!!

it’s all worth it when matthew turns to you and you both burst out in giggles, matt mimicking the face the guy made to make you laugh <3

the guy keeps glaring at you two the whole night but you barely even notice during your fits of laughter w your boyfriend <3

starts jokingly calling himself your house husband to triumph over the work husband!! will bring you a cup of coffee at home, give you a little kiss to your temple and mutter a “10 points for the house husband” to hear you giggle 😵‍💫

✦ * 💭 ⊹ 김태래 ; TAERAE

hates it, wants to ban the words “y/n” and “work husband” from ever being used in one sentence ever again

who does he think he is…taerae is right there?

asks you if this is a common occurrence and if he should help you report him to hr 😭

when you tell him he previously never said anything of this sort he’s almost more peeved..? why is he bringing this up NOW when taerae is here!!

simply cannot comprehend the sheer audacity of that man and doesn’t even try to hide it!! he’ll flat out cackle at everything your other coworkers say but not a single peep from taerae when your “work husband” cracks a joke

ooooh he’s so petty and makes sure to keep you away from him the whole evening too…oh you wanna chat w my y/n? my bad we actually have to go to the bathroom. together. see ya!

has a hand on you at all times now!! no way that guy will catch him lacking. hand holding yours, hand on your waist, hand on your neck, hand on your thigh, pinkies intertwined…oh you’re so in love it’s almost hard to watch how lovely you look

pulls you in to give you a kiss when the guy approaches to say goodbye and just gives up when he sees ya’ll locking lips…1:0 to your boyfriend

cheers when the guy leaves 😮‍💨

makes sure you know you should absolutely speak up if he bothers you, and offers to pick you up from work more often to hammer home the fact that you’re off the market <3

puts on a show when he picks you up, pulls up with flowers and gives you a big smooch while raising a brow at the guy…almost challenging him…oh he’s sick

[amourtoken]

ykkkkkkk I've been sitting on these thoughts for a while and bounce back and forth between shit so let me just write it out finally.

Here are some Eepy boy HC's of mine

(No edits, we die like men)

*nsfw below the cut, MDNI*

Vessel:

he's definitely the most primal, but I feel like he sees any kind of sexual activity as something to be taken seriously. It's an act of devotion, he's worshipping your body and plans to treat it as religiously as it sounds.

he uses his size to his advantage, big hands splaying across your torso while he's above you or running down your spine as he manipulates you into whatever position he likes. When he's fucking you from behind he can drape his entire body over your back. Loves picking you up like a toy and fucking into you like you're weightless. His favorite position is some variation of London Bridge (has nothing to do with being British but yk)

Speaking of size: the man is packing. Not like this comes as a surprise, you can see him pretty clearly through his usual stage clothes bur seeing him undressed is a different story. His body paint fades the further down his hips you go and frames his cock so nicely. He's about 8 inches and fuckin thickkkkk. Usually I'd say this is a cliche, but he's huge and lanky, ofc his cock is included. He loves pressing his hand on your lower stomach during sex and feeling how far in your guts he can get, makes his head spin when he can see the bulge just below your navel.

Part of being so primal, breeding kink. Every time he fucks you, he's got purpose. He's holding your hips so tight you thought he'd draw blood, fucking into you and dragging you to meet his thrusts halfway. He's draped over you, whispering disgusting praise in your ear about how good you're taking him, how beautiful you are and how much more so you'd be full with his kids. The thought of you bring claimed so permanently has his cock twitching and leaking

this mf has an oral fixation like no other. Needs to feel you between his teeth or taste you however he can, constantly leaving messy kisses all over your neck and chest or leaving littered bite marks all across your inner thighs. Loves having your nipples in his mouth, and dare I say spit kink? Likes seeing you messy and claimed however he can, how much more messy can you get than having him grip your jaw with his big hand and spitting in your mouth?? Alongside his oral fixation, he could happily live between your legs eating you like a man starved. He stops when he's done, not when you're begging him to cause you're cripplingly overstimulated.

Vocal. As fuck. This man cannot shut the fuck up!!! I think all the boys are vocal to a degree but he just can't help himself. Constantly whispering and humming against your ear about how beautiful you are, how lucky he is, all the depraved things he plans on doing to you in painstaking detail. During the act, he praises you nonstop and pants pathetically. The closer he gets the more it seems he struggles for air, voice catching in his throat and moans pitching higher until he actually cums which is when he makes the most head spinning animalistic sounds. High pitched whines mixed with deep chested growls and broken whimpers when he digs his fingers into your hips hard enough to leave bruises and presses his head back into the sheets ughhhh :((((

Big on aftercare, not that he would've been degrading but he can still be intense and wants to be sure you're cared for. Holds you close and continues whispering praises against your skin, he feels blessed to have you. Presses kisses to your temple and cheekbones while breathing in your scent and sighing heavily. He could stay here forever happily.

ii:

ii my beloved ugHhh

I hate to say it but he's a lil mean lol

He comes offstage so fucking amped sometimes, he would never ever hurt you (without you asking) but I'll be damned if he isn't rough. He takes his extra energy out on you, which you happily take. Your dynamic is definitely on a dom/sub plane and he thrives in that dominant caretaker role.

Very touchy. Always has a hand on your thigh if you're sitting near him, lacing his fingers with yours, brushing your hair back behind your ear, sometimes he'll walk up behind you and hold you by your hips, strong hands kneading the soft flesh before he presses a kiss to your temple and heads off. He'd glue you to his lap if he were allowed, you're his baby he's gotta take care of you and it's much easier the closer you are.

Ass man!!!!

The touchiness extends to the bedroom. This man lovesss fucking you from behind and watching your ass ripple against his hips during every harsh thrust. He grabs handfuls of your hips and yanks you back against him to meet his thrusts, more often than not leaving Bruises where his fingers dug the deepest. His absolute favorite position is when he wraps an arm around your throat and drags you upwards, his chest to your back while he fucks into you, held up in a headlock. His free hand roams your body, tweaking your nipples or dragging orgasm after orgasm from you as he nearly abuses your pussy.

Not quite as long as Ves, but thicker. Solid 6.5 inches, but you can barely wrap your fingers around him. The stretch when he first slides in is enough to bring tears to your eyes and he fills you so so fucking good.

He's the least vocal of the group but that doesn't mean he's silent. He likes leaning in and whispering filth to you in public then acting on those words later. Loves how you flush pathetically as he walks off like he's done nothing at all. He's almost condescending as he fucks you, teasing you about how loud you're being for him and how well you're taking his fat cock. You better be quiet, unless you want the other boys to hear? He constantly teases about how he should call them and have them watch as you unravel on his length, maybe they'd tease you for it too. You're just so sensitive, maybe they should all get a turn? Usually not big on moaning but will growl and groan from deep in his chest, breath catching as he cums and it sounds like all the wind was knocked from his chest.

Essentially collapses on top of you after he cums, might laugh as you whine in protest, cock still inside of you while you're both trying to catch your breath. Presses apologetic kisses to your neck and shoulders before pulling out. On nights where he's been particularly rough, loves catching a shower with you and massaging your spent joints. He's enamored by you, he feels so lucky to have you around and needs you to know.

iii:

Switch.

He's the most energetic, not necessarily the roughest but this man has some mf stamina that's for sure.

He's the most experimental. Always wanting to try new things out no matter what, be it toys, or new and somewhat odd positions. He always asks you beforehand of course, sometimes very nonchalantly as you flush pink and reprimand him for being so direct in front of other people. There have been many times where he'll plant himself on the couch next to you, tossing an arm on your shoulder before pointing his phone screen to you to show you an incredibly esoteric amateur porn or some new techy sex toy.

he's happy being in the dominant role most of the time but the moment you show signs of wanting to top him, the blood rushes from his brain directly to his cock so fast he nearly blacks out. Put this man on a leash and tell him he's a good boy while he fucks into you so desperately he could cry and he's the happiest he could be. Other days, he's got you bent into some strange position and growling out about how good you take him and what a good slut you are for his dick. (He apologizes profusely after the fact for calling you a slut but will absolutely do it again)

Breathy, whiny, high pitched moans most often. He's so fucking loud there's no way the others don't hear when he's hammering into you and near sobbing against your ear about how fucking good your pussy feels and how close he is. When you're topping, you're used to gagging him or holding a hand over his mouth while riding his cock just to get him to be a bit quieter. Both of these things only serve to make him louder as his cock twitches pathetically inside you.

Most likely to invite the other boys in for a threesome (or more). Loves getting to please you in more than one way, and can't help himself when he watches one of his band mates taking you. It's almost pathetic how hard he gets when he's watching you put a show on for him with one of them.

Not as thick as Ves or ii, but he's long lol. 7 inches and has a nice curve that always hits the right spots.

Loves when you pull his hair. Whether you're underneath him begging him to fuck you harder and switching between drawing blood on his shoulders and tugging his hair like it's the only thing holding you down to earth or you're lacing your fingers in it to direct him between your legs while he's lazily eating you out. Doesn't matter, makes his cock throb whenever you tug on it. Doesn't mind doing the same for you either, gathering a handful while he's fucking you from behind or pulling it all into a messy ponytail while he gags you on his length.

Cuddly afterwards. Always wants to hold you close and enjoy the afterglow. Presses kisses everywhere he can and reminds you how gorgeous you are and how amazing you are. Due to the fact he goes so many rounds in a row, he's the most likely to fall asleep afterwards, holding you tight to his chest while he dozes off.

iv:

Unexpected, this one.

He seemed reserved when you first got together but that's definitely not the case. He's been growing into himself as time goes and becoming more open to new things.

He's good with his hands onstage and off, his favorite past time his pulling you onto his lap and playing with your pussy until you're literally in tears. He'll hike your skirt up, yanking your panties off as he presses messy kisses to your neck and teases you by running his hands up and down your torso and thighs. He'll use one hand to spread you open and the other to tease your clit till you're shaking. Lovesss doing this in front of a mirror as well, wrapping a hand around your throat to keep your gaze on the reflection of him burying his fingers in your soaked pussy. He loves how easily he can melt you in his hands.

He's an enjoyer of discrete exhibitionism. Absolutely loves the Bluetooth vibrator he got you as a valentines gift one year, he's been reprimanded more than a handful of times for using it at the *worst* moment. Alternatively, loves knowing that just underneath the hem of your skirt or collar of your shirt you're absolutely covered in deep purple hickeys and love bites. Claimed as his and just out of reach for everyone else. He's taken you countless times in endless green rooms, dressing rooms, venue bathrooms, the list goes on. If he wants you, he knows you'll give in wherever or whenever he wants.

bringing mirrors back in, loves watching you from behind in the floor length mirror next to your bed as you're settled between his legs. Your lingerie frames your ass perfectly while you're sucking his cock, his fingers laced in your hair to guide you as he gently fucks up into your pretty mouth. Also absolutely adores fucking you from behind in front of said mirror, tugging your hair so you can watch as he fills you up so fucking good.

Groans and breathes heavily, very languid with his sounds but that doesn't mean he isn't enjoying it. iv prefers things to be deep and hard rather than fast and rough, so he's fine with taking his time. He'll roll his hips against yours just so he knows you feel the tip of his cock right against your cervix or he'll rub the tip of his cock against your lips before slapping it on your tongue. He enjoys the little details and the time it takes to really get to them.

He's the most well rounded of the 4, just as long as ii but comfortably thick and you swear he was made for you the way he feels when he's inside you. He buries his face tight against your neck when he cums, groaning harshly and grinding himself as deep as he can into your pussy.

He's gonna give you his oversized shirt to wear after he's done with you, adoring how you look in his clothes. He'll put on a movie you both enjoy and it won't take long before you both pass out even though you swore you'd finally finish said movie. He'll wake up before you to run you both a bath though and he swears he's the luckiest man alive to have someone like you around.

[badkitty3000]

okay so say the reader is ovulating,, rightttt? and she’s more desperate than usual, would five take advantage of this or would he tease her n be cruel?

So, this is a little bit interesting because I could see either way. Five is an absolute bastard and would love to be a total tease. But he also loves to get laid so...therein lies the conundrum. I guess it would depend on the situation. Are they trying to get pregnant? Is that why you're saying she's desperate? If so, then he'd absolutely be all over that. Any excuse to bang his lady on demand is a good one. Although, I did write a part in my first series about Five and his lady trying to get pregnant and not being successful so it turned into a very stressful situation for both of them. So, in that case he was not super thrilled. But I'm thinking in the beginning stages at least, he'd be very on board.

If you're saying she's just super amped up and horny, well then, I think our smug, sexy man would like watching her squirm. Maybe a few brushes against her on his way past, a lingering kiss, a small smirk that shows he knows exactly what he's doing. And then completely shutting her down when she tries to seal the deal.

He'd definitely get off on knowing he's got that power over her and would draw it out for as long as possible. In the end, though, the promise of some hot, desperate sex would be too much and he'd give in. But he'd like playing the game leading up to it.

[cinnajun]

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: zb1 when you're sick

a/n: i love writing stuff like this, mostly because i think how someone takes care of u when ur sick means a lot :)) it’s very endearing to me!

notes: yujin is not included due to his age! just assume y/n has a nasty case of the flu or something lol, i didn't proofread so sorry for any typos!

wc | 2.8k

 from worst to best at taking care of you

gyuvin

i don’t think he’d necessarily be bad at it per say

like gyuvin’s definitely the type of guy to treat you a little bit like a baby when you’re sick

he feels really bad, and he doesn’t like seeing you all upset and unhappy :(

so for the first couple of days he’s good at supplying you with medicine and water, and he does his best to make you meals (most of them are bland convenience store soups and noodles put into bowls but it’s okay)

he also spends a lot of time with you, and, by extension, cheers you up a lot

he will amp his funny meter up like 97% because he wants to see you smile and laugh

even though you can barely laugh because you’re sick and your throat hurts

he also will be very loving when you’re sick which is nice because i don’t see him being extremely touchy when you’re going about your daily life

so you get lots of hugs and kisses even though you keep telling him not to because he will get sick

and that’s where everything goes wrong

the thing is. on day 3 he will wake up sick

no matter what, when you get sick, he will be sick within 72 hours

it’s because he’s clingy and annoying and will nap with you, get ready for bed with you, and eat food with you so there’s virtually no protection from your illness

and as much as he would love to keep taking care of you while he’s sick, he feels just as bad so now you’re BOTH rotting away while whatever sickness you have runs its course

you end up having to call hanbin over because neither of you want to do anything but lay there

so like

enjoy the two days of a very loving and doting boyfriend (more so than usual)

and make sure to tell hanbin when you get sick so he can be prepared to clear his schedule lol

under gyuvin’s (technically hanbin’s) care, it takes about a week to fully get better!

ricky

so sorry to the 04s for this slander

again i don’t think he’d be bad at it he’d just be a little clueless

i think when he gets really stressed out about something he shuts down a little bit too so when your fever is pushing 102 he’s kind of like a sim that can’t figure out how to get past a desk (if that makes sense)

you’ll be like “ugh my head hurts” and he’ll be like oh okay … then twenty minutes later he finally returns with advil and a cup of water

or like you’ll be napping and he’ll suddenly remember that you need to take more dayquil (he’s about an hour late)

and at the end of the day he will get done what he needs to get done just like give him a minute

ricky somehow makes a really good chicken noodle soup (it’s just canned soup) and you always ask him about it and how he makes it!! he tells you it’s a secret (he just slightly modifies canned soup)

i think he’s also pretty good at making sure he doesn’t get sick from taking care of you, too

like as much as he loves you and not being able to hold your hand makes him want to die, he doesn’t want to be like gyuvin and force hanbin to take care of both of you lol

so he’ll wear a mask and wash his hands pretty regularly, but he makes sure to reassure you that he’s taking the necessary precautions so that he can successfully nurse you back to health, and that he still loves you even if he can’t get too close right now :)

i think his main strength in this area is keeping you entertained, though

like he’ll make sure there’s always a movie playing or something, even if you’re asleep

he doesn’t want you to be bored and feel bad

also has an intrinsic belief that not being bored will distract you from the icky feelings

under ricky’s care, it takes a little over a week to get better!

matthew

same with ricky, i think matthew’s not necessarily bad at it, but he kind of shuts down when he finds out

he goes from like doting, loving boyfriend to oh god oh my god oh no oh god

if you give him a bit of time to gather himself he goes from panic mode to question mode

matthew will NOT leave you alone while you’re sick!!! he’s halfway convinced you’re living out your last days!!!! he has to make sure you don’t die!!!!

he also asks you 70 questions an hour

“do you need anything?” “do you want something to eat?” “do you need more water?” “do you want a massage?”

of the 70 questions, maybe about 3 or 4 of them yield the answer “yes” but that’s not 0 so he’s going to keep it up

he’s like baymax or something idk he’s just so stressed out the entire time

he’s like nigh unrecognizable the entire time

you are absolutely aware of the fact that sometimes he leaves the room to call his mom and ask for advice but you pretend that you don’t know for the sake of his dignity

although his constant stream of questions can be somewhat overwhelming at times, you’re very appreciative of his dedication because when you’re sick, you will get anything you need

he will also make any meal you desire even if he’s never made it before, and he really adores the way it makes you smile so then he’s all smiley afterwards &lt;;/3

if he needs to go out to the store to get you something, he will either enlist somebody else to do it or have someone stay with you while he’s gone

so you’ll get a lot of well wishes from jiwoong, hao, and hanbin while you’re not feeling well

when you get better it’s the best day of matthew’s life i’m pretty sure

he remembers what it feels like to not be terribly worried 24/7 so you watch him deflate like a balloon

and then he naps for like four hours

under matthew’s care, it takes 6-ish days to get better!

taerae

taerae’s pretty middle of the road in my opinion

like we learned during boys’ planet, he’s the youngest kid so he received a lot of affection and love when he was growing up

so, when you’re sick, he gives you a LOT of affection

you could be rotting away in bed and taerae will be like “you are the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen” with heart eyes

i think the thing that gives taerae a real leg up though is that his first thought is “oh let’s go see a doctor” and he can drive so you go pretty much immediately

that way, you get flu-specific medicine and get better quicker than you would’ve without

after that, taerae’s sick care is pretty run of the mill

i don’t think he’s too panicked about it because people get sick all the time, and so, unless you’re really, really sick he’s not going to be doting on you 24/7 like matthew would

he’ll still run errands and he won’t cancel plans unless you straight up ask him to (and if you ask he will without thinking about it!!!)

and he makes sure you’re taking your meds, drinking water, and eating three times a day

but life doesn’t stop, you know??

it’s nice because when you’re sick, sometimes all you want is to be left alone for a bit and that’s exactly what taerae does for you :)

also, because he’s continuing on with his life, he won’t get sick from you so you won’t have any of that guilt on your shoulders

one special thing taerae does when you’re sick though is sing you to sleep

sure, when you’re not sick, he’ll do it from time to time but he’s very consistent when you’re not feeling well!! he’ll get the guitar out and sing you a lullaby or two

he will also sing you awake </3 and he wakes you up to eat!!! so it’ll be a cute little made up jingle about it being breakfast time … it’s very heartwarming

under taerae’s care, you get better in 5 days!

jiwoong

i think he’s very similar to taerae in this respect, so he’s also in the middle (but a little bit higher up)

jiwoong is older and more experienced with stuff like this so he’s very businessy about it

when you wake up with a fever, you’ll head to the doctor and get your tamiflu or whatever

from then on it’s just a waiting game i think

the main difference between taerae and jiwoong though is strictly experience

he’s very routine when it comes to taking care of you

you eat breakfast, he gives you dayquil, goes out to get anything you ask for…it continues

jiwoong is also really good at knowing when you want him around and when you want him to leave you alone

but he’s always generally around, and will cancel plans (without telling you) so that he can make sure he’s available if anything goes wrong

he’s good at planning for the worst case scenario without being worried about it, too, so he’ll have a backup plan in place if you (for some reason) start getting worse rather than getting better

jiwoong is great to have around when you’re sick because he’s good at cooking, too

he will bring you the most delicious soup you’ve ever had in your life and will literally juice oranges so that you can have fresh orange juice

he doesn’t tell you but he’s a little manic about what you’re consuming when you’re sick because he doesn’t want you to throw up or get sicker because of what you’re eating

he also gives really good bear hugs when you’re sick

like the best bear hug of your life

when you trudge out of the bedroom in the morning to eat breakfast and open your arms for a hug he will gladly envelope you into the most comfortable thing you’ve felt in weeks

they’re obviously no different from his hugs when you’re not sick but for some reason they’re just so much better than when you’re not feeling well

under jiwoong’s care, you get better in 4-5 days

zhang hao

TOP 3!!

hao is so lovely to be around when everything is normal, so when you’re sick he’s like a saving grace almost

he actually notices you’re sick before you do

he wakes up one morning, looks over at you, and notices that your cheeks are flushed and you’re making a kind of unhappy face

he takes your temperature and is like >:0 oh no

so you literally wake up to him holding a gatorade and a bowl of rice and you’re like ??? what

“you’re sick”

“i am???”

and then a couple of hours the symptoms really kick in and you’re like “how are you a genius…” but he’s just observant lol

while you’re sick, he dials up the zhang hao charm like 7000% and makes sure that you know he loves you more than anything and that he will do/get anything you need until you get better

and he will ensure that you don’t feel guilty that he’s taking time off of his everyday life to dote on you

i think, in general, hao is so good at catching your illness before it’s really able to set in that your symptoms tend to be fairly mild throughout the time that you’re sick (thus, you get better faster)

and he’s good at making sure you’re staying clean too

he knows how awful it is when you get sick and you don’t have anyone to help you out, so you just end up feeling gross and disgusting all the time

so he makes sure you’re doing your skincare (he will literally do it for you if you need him to) and that you’re showering when you need to yk

and he gets “anonymous deliveries” of little treats throughout the time that you’re sick (he asks hanbin to pick some things up and put them at the door lol)

when you get better, hao will take you on a date to celebrate (and he lets you pay so you’ll truly crush any guilt you felt for interrupting his daily life)

under hao’s care, you get better in 4 days!

gunwook

this might be a hot take but i think gunwook would be so nice to have around when you’re sick

i also think, like hao, he picks up on it before it even happens idk

he’ll see that one of your friends got sick after you hung out and he just knows

he will preemptively make you take theraflu, and you think he’s being stupid but then you wake up with a fever

he’s like “i told you”

gunwook would be panicked in a way that you have no clue, so it’s out of sight and out of mind

but in all actuality he’s blowing up the zb1 gc like wtf do i DO!!!

everyone’s first recommendation is to make sure you don’t end up like gyuvin (sick and unhappy) LOL

but half the things he does are recommendations from jiwoong, hao, and hanbin so make sure to thank them at some point!!

because he takes tips from the pros he ends up being a pro you know

and he finds out ricky’s super secret (canned) soup recipe so he’s got that on lock too

essentially gunwook is the product of the rest of the group’s experience … like the answer to one big equation lol

the one thing he doesn’t listen to is everyone telling him to like not be constantly close to you

i’m a believer that gunwook rarely gets sick (his immune system is like on steroids) so he spends the entirety of this period hanging out with you

naps with you, goes to bed at the same time as you, watches whatever you’re watching, etc

obviously he’s washing his hands pretty often but he’s still hanging out with you, which makes you feel very happy and loved :)

afterwards, you’re very thankful and appreciative and gunwook will take all the credit for the techniques other people supplied him with

at some point you’ll probably catch on but you won’t say anything lol

if he’s happy, you’re happy!

under gunwook’s care, you get better in 3-4 days!

hanbin

i feel like this was obvious

this man is literally a mother

you feel like your mom is taking care of you the entire time you’re sick

when you wake up and tell him you aren’t feeling well he does the mom thing (puts his hand on your forehead) and can actually conclude you have a fever by doing that

and then he’ll tell you to go lay down while he makes breakfast lol

it’s seriously like your mom is taking care of you, i cannot overstate this

he’s giving you cold washcloths and handing you cough drops every 2-3 business hours

he asks what your symptoms are and goes “hmm” before disappearing from the room and returning with the exact remedy you need

hanbin quite literally hates the idea that you’re nothing less than happy, so he will do everything in his power to make sure you’re getting better while honoring your wishes at the same time

so if all you want to do is sleep, he’ll let you sleep

or if you want to try and still be productive, he’ll let you help with the dishes or do your own laundry if need be

being sick under hanbin’s care is so nice because you don’t feel like the world has stopped just because you’re sick, you know

the way he takes care of you keeps you feeling strong enough to do something other than lay about all day

and you don’t really get to the point where you feel like death is imminent (i assume this is a universal experience for everyone)

and he’s not too worried about you being sick as he’s worried about you getting better and not having any residual symptoms you know

also makes yummy and delicious food for you so that’s a big plus LOL

you get better so fast that it’s barely a bump in the road

you think god accidentally gave hanbin special powers and you’re glad you get to be the main benefactor of them

under hanbin’s care, you get better in 3 days!

thank you for reading!

[melon-fodder]

BLOOM • T. Hiragi

Summary: Over time you fill Hiragi’s heart and home with little pieces of yourself.

Word Count: 1.2k

Note: for @seiwas subtle intimacies milestone collab: and there’s something, this feeling. The premise of this is so sweet. I just had to write something. Naturally, it’s extremely self indulgent and self-ship coded.

It’s raining outside by the time Hiragi gets back home, a paper bag in his hand that he’d had to hide under his jacket to keep breakfast from getting soggy.

Inside, he takes off his boots, putting them neatly on the shoe rack next to a pair of your sneakers that you likely kicked off and left. He straightens those too, shaking his head as he lines the heels up with the edge of the rack.

In the kitchen, Hiragi puts the breakfast pastries on a plate before popping them in the microwave for a short time, glancing around at everything he needs to get done today.

The dishes are clean and put up, but the towel is balled up on the counter rather than hanging off the hook like it should be. The fridge is still nicely stocked and organized the way he likes it, though the bottom shelf is home to 3 half-full cups—drinks you haven’t finished that have been cast off to the graveyard prematurely.

Hiragi removes all of them, pouring them out and rinsing the cups. You’ll pout at him later, and then he’ll remind you that 2 of those cups have been sitting untouched for at least 48 hours.

The microwave beeps, but all Hiragi does is turn it off, wants to keep your breakfast warm for when he finally manages to get you out of bed. The cool temperature in the apartment paired with the patter of rain against the windows leads him to believe that you’ll be asleep for at least another hour. At least.

So, he busies himself—folds the blankets on the couch, picks up the pair of fuzzy socks that have gotten trapped between the cushions, fluffs and straightens the ridiculous and regrettably fucking soft Squishmallow in the corner.

When he sneaks into the bedroom, you remain unmoving under the covers, quilt and weighted blanket pulled up to your chin. Your mouth is partially open, soft snores sticking in the back of your throat, and all Hiragi can do is smile as his chest tightens in a now very familiar way.

He stares for just a few moments longer before slipping into the bathroom, turning on the light only after the door is shut. The counter is home to two of everything: two tooth brushes, two types of toothpaste (“the mint is too spicy,” you told him years ago), two sticks of deodorant, two brands of leave-in conditioner.

Hiragi remembers when the space was mostly empty, when he only had a black shower curtain and a matching mat. Back when the caddy only held his body wash and favored shampoo.

Now, it’s full of different types of soap—organic, for sensitive skin, dermatologist approved lavender honey shit that he hates to love as much as he does. You use shampoo that smells like roses and lemon, and sometimes when you’re away Hiragi holds the bottle to his nose and takes a huge whiff in a pathetic attempt to get stoned off of it.

It used to not be like this. He used to not be like this. Hiragi lived the single life for many years—not in the ‘playboy, bring a new girl home every night’ sort of way, but in the ‘appreciates his own time and space’ sort of way.

His apartment was always clean, the only clutter being the corner in which he kept his guitar rack. There were no blankets on his couch, no stacks of books on the coffee table. His Netflix account was curated to him and him alone.

Now there are medical dramas in his Suggestions and Romantasy novels on the table. There are socks and blankets and toed-off shoes. At least one bra is hanging off the bathroom doorknob at any given time, and sitting on top of Hiragi’s very expensive amp among his very expensive guitars is a stuffed bear, its head big enough to hold the headphones he uses to practice.

There are pieces of you everywhere, and he likes it. He fucking loves it, actually. The apartment is so much more lived in, so much fuller with you in it. Since the very first time he brought you here after your first (long overdue) date, you’ve been slowly shedding pieces of yourself, leaving them for Hiragi to find and hold close to his heart.

That date, the one that somehow feels like yesterday and forever ago at the same time, Hiragi had taken you to get coffee and sweets at a little shop Sako had recommended, then had brought you back here where you had perched yourself in his lap as if you belonged there (you did; you’d belonged there since he first saw you). You’d played with the little hairs at the back of his neck, speaking casually and playfully all while Hiragi tried to keep his insides from imploding.

He tasted your kiss for the first time that evening—your mouth on his, warm and plush, tongue still sweet from the vanilla in your drink. You sighed and hummed and giggled as Hiragi grew more eager, your thighs squeezing where you straddled him, and only after the two of you were well and truly breathless did you tell him that you had a great time and couldn’t wait for your next date.

You accidentally forgot your beanie, the first of many of your belongings to find a home in his space.

After that it was a cardigan, a phone charger, panties, a toothbrush—until the relationship hit the serious stage (as you both knew it would) and suddenly your things were arriving in boxes.

Hiragi’s mostly blank walls now have pictures hanging off of them, some artwork, some of them blown up photos of the two of you. There are aesthetically pleasing rugs and throw pillows on the couch. His fridge has goofy magnets on it as well as the occasional love note you leave for him.

You have permeated the space, claimed it for yourself like you claimed his heart, and Hiragi wouldn’t have it any other way.

Now, freshly showered and mostly dry, Hiragi slips on his boxers and pads back into the bedroom where you are still sound asleep.

He should leave you be. You’ll be up in another hour or so, anyway.

But…

You’re warm under the covers, laying curled on your side, perfect for Hiragi as he wraps himself around you.

Your breathing stutters as he pulls you from whatever dreamland you were in, but you don’t seem all that upset, just smack your lips a couple times and mumble a groggy, “hi, baby…”

“Hey,” he responds, nuzzling into your shoulder as he pulls you tighter against his chest.

Your eyes remain shut, voice still thick with sleep when you ask, “you okay?”

“Yeah, m’fine. Just missed you.”

You let out a tiny laugh before clumsily turning to face him. Cracking one eye open, you remind him, “I’m right here,” then relax into him— “right here and still eepy.”

“Then go back to sleep,” he says, bringing a hand to your head to play with your messy hair.

“Plannin’ on it.”

You turn your face just enough to catch his wrist in a gentle kiss, make a delighted little noise when he reciprocates with his lips on the crown of your head.

It doesn’t take long for you to fall back into a light slumber, and Hiragi reflects for a just little bit longer—all the things he did that led him here, to this room with you in his arms—before he follows after you.

Breakfast can wait. He’s exactly where he wants to be in this moment.

[wavesmp3]

[csc] ode to you

inspired by 'daisy jones & the six'

pairing: choi seungcheol x reader (gn) genre: band au, strangers to lovers, angst wc: 13.7k warnings: cursing, heavy alcohol usage and often in an unhealthy way, one mention of blood (a terrible case of largely irrelevant side characters, an attempt at writing song lyrics, switching pov’s without any real indication, story existing in a vacuum of time and space loosely based off of 70s usa)

synopsis → The Numbers are a band well on their way to commercial success with Seungcheol as the dreamy front man, Soonyoung on drums, Joshua on guitar, Minghao on bass, and Junhui on keys. But all that changes the second you step into the studio to record “Begin Again” with them. The song is an instant hit, launching you from a singer-songwriter nobody to the biggest new name in music and catapulting the Numbers into a larger limelight than they’ve ever been in before. So with the entire country singing your song, the pressure is on for you and the Numbers to create an entire album that lives up to their expectations. But while pressure builds, something akin to feelings for the front man builds with it.

You go to knock again on the door, heavy footsteps and heavier breaths, but just as soon as your knuckles make contact with the heavy wood, the door swings open. 

Jihoon looks disappointed. “You were going to knock again, weren’t you?”

You roll your eyes, pushing him aside and going straight for the marble bar cart you know sits in the sitting room off the formal dining area. 

“You know you really have to work on your patience.” He says to you from the foyer, voice already sounding a bit far away. You always forget how big acclaimed-music-producer Woozi's house is. Although, you think, staring at the array of top shelf liquor arranged neatly on the bar cart, mansion is probably a more apt word for it. 

You pour yourself a glass of whiskey. 

Jihoon joins you in the room once you’ve already taken a seat in one of the brown leather arm chairs. 

“How many glasses is that?”

You scoff. “I have a show at the Roxy after this.”

He hums, flicking the square paper in his hand. 

You sit up slightly. “What is that?” Jihoon takes the paper over to the record player in the opposite corner of the room. He slips a clean black record out of the manilla slip and carefully places it into position. It doesn’t take long for the gentle hum of the record spinning around the platter to fill the room. 

God, I love music. You think to yourself sitting back slightly in the armchair and allowing your eyes to shut. 

“I want you to listen to this.” You hear Jihoon say, followed by the small pop of the decanter being opened and the quiet trickle and crack of liquor falling over ice. The sound of a bass overtakes the room. It’s somehow… gentle. 

“Who’s it by?”

Jihoon doesn’t answer at first. You hear him sit down in the armchair next to yours while drums fill in the spaces of the songs and a guitar starts to hum along. And the sound that comes from the record player next–in all honesty, you don’t think Jihoon could have prepared you for. It’s a man’s voice, polished, in a way that you just know he’s been doing this for a while. His whole life maybe. There’s this rough, almost growly quality that amps the song up even more, and yet, simultaneously, his voice glides over the lyrics like honey spilling over the side of its jar. There’s so much depth in every note he hits. You don’t know if you’ve ever heard a voice–a sound–quite like this. 

“Who is this?” You ask again once the first chorus comes to a close, opening your eyes and taking a proper look at Jihoon. He looks mildly amused.

“Have you heard of the Numbers?”

Seungcheol hurries into the studio from the car, guitar in one hand and lyrics in the other, fully expecting to get chewed out by his producer. “Jihoon, I’m so sorry. There was tra-”

Seungcheol stops in his tracks. The control room is empty. He steps back into the doorway and rereads the signage. He has the right room, so then… where is everybody?

“Seungcheol,” he hears a voice call for him from the recording stage. It’s Soonyoung, waving him inside and pointing at you. You smile at him, give him a nod of sorts. His eyes dart to Jihoon, giving him a look that says, who the fuck is that? 

He walks into the recording booth hesitantly. 

“Hey.” Jihoon says casually. “I don’t think you guys have met yet.” 

You stand and approach him, sticking out your hand. Seungcheol just looks at it. 

“The label thinks you guys would sound good on one track and want you to try recording ‘Begin Again’ together.” 

He ignores your outstretched hand and looks straight at Jihoon. “Can we speak privately?”

—

Seungcheol had assumed he’d be the one getting chewed out in the studio today. Oh, how things have changed. He’s worked so hard on this song. More time and effort than he’s ever put in any of the band’s songs that came out before it. He can’t believe Jihoon would allow anyone else to try and taint it. “Begin Again” is his song. And he’ll be damned if he’s not the only one singing it. 

Seungcheol’s ready to say all of this, but, “Before you say anything,” Jihoon doesn’t even let him speak, “I know how you feel about this. But the decision came from above me, okay. The Number’s last album didn’t do as well as the label hoped. They think another voice in the band could shake things up. And who knows, “Jihoon continues with a shrug that only makes Seungcheol fume more, “maybe this could be what you guys have been missing.”

Seungcheol cannot believe what he’s hearing. “We aren’t missing anything.” 

“Don’t be dense.” Jihoon pans with a sideways stare. “I know you guys are good. I know you guys are gonna be big, but the rest of the world needs some convincing. Just try this, okay? This could be it.”

Seungcheol just shakes his head. 

“I scouted them out myself. They’re a good singer and even better writer-”

“Writer?” Seungcheol nearly screams, arms flying to point at you through the control room window where the two boys are talking. “You want them to write on the song too?”

“They have a couple of…” Jihoon sighs, choosing his next word with extra precaution, “revisions.”

“Fuck that, Jihoon. I wrote a great song. It–”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“You wrote a good song.” Jihoon refutes, matter-of-factly. “You wrote a good song, and they,” he points at you, “they made it a great one.” 

Seungcheol is speechless. 

“Here.” Jihoon pushes a piece of torn notebook paper into his hands. 

If Seungcheol wasn’t so aware of the line Jihoon was drawing, he would’ve pushed harder, but at the end of the day, Jihoon is his boss and his lifeline in this business. If Jihoon says so, really says so, then there’s not much Seungcheol can do to fight it. Seungcheol is stubborn, but he’s not a fool looking to waste his own breath. He looks back into the recording stage. The band looks happy chatting to each other. And you, well, you’re staring at him.

A red light flashes on the sound board beneath him. “Talk over the changes.” Jihoon says to the band and you through the intercom. “We record in ten minutes.”

— 

“It’s nice to meet you,” you say to Seungcheol sitting on the stool in front of the second mic. Seungcheol’s never even seen a studio setup with two mics before. He swallows a scoff. “Jihoon showed me the song the other day, and your voice it—“ 

“What does this line mean?” Seungcheol cuts in, taking his seat on the stool next to yours. “I changed my heart. I morphed my mind. You don’t have the right to tell me I didn’t try.” 

Your face drops immediately. “Are you serious?” 

Seungcheol raises a brow–a challenge.

You let out a breath of pure disbelief, focusing your gaze just above his head, and hands starting to make motions in the air. “It’s about changing yourself to be with someone. It’s about them never acknowledging that.”

“That’s not what this song is about.”

You give him a pointed look. “What do you think the song is about?”

It’s his turn for the disbelief. “What do I think the song I wrote is about?” You don’t falter, not even for a second. Seungcheol grasps at the words, mouth agape. “It’s about redemption.”

“That’s too easy.”

“How is that too easy?”

“Look,” you huff, mouth opening and closing like you can’t decide what it is you want to say. You end up reaching your arm out, palm open like you want a fucking hi-five or something. In the back of his mind, Seungcheol wonders if you’re still waiting for the handshake he never gave. “Give me your original lyrics.”

He does, you snatch the paper keeping your eyes on him for a second too long before finding whatever it was that you were looking for. “Right here,” you say, finger pointing at the tattered paper and eyes darting back and forth between him and his lyrics. Your face lights up. You look like you're holding back a smile. You look… excited. “Here, in the bridge you wrote: take me home, welcome me on those familiar roads, embrace me in your arms, oh please, tell me I still belong.”

“What about it?” Seungcheol asks, almost forgetting that he’s upset at Jihoon for this whole arrangement, nearly forgetting that he’s supposed to not be accepting any of your revisions because for the first time in so long, he’s able to really talk to someone about his lyrics. 

You look up at him fully, and almost sadly, you say, “You really don’t get it, do you?” Seungcheol looks down at the lyrics you gave him, scanning them again. Funnily enough, that line is the only one of his you’ve kept. 

“The song’s not about redemption,” you tell him. “It’s about guilt.”

—

Seungcheol, you, and the band end up recording your version of the song. It’s a good song. It’s still his melody, his hook, and his bridge, but almost none of the lyrics are his. Just like that, “Begin Again” becomes as much your song as it is his. If he wasn’t so angry at Jihoon, maybe he would’ve had the mind to notice how good you sound singing it.

Choi Seungcheol is an asshole. 

That you learned in the recording studio with him and haven’t been able to get out of your head since. Unfortunately, he’s got one hell of a voice and gift for creating a good melody. And him and Jihoon together in the studio, god, they’re magic. You went out and purchased The Number’s previous record after you recorded “Begin Again”. You haven’t stopped listening to it since. 

It’s one day when you’re working a shift at the diner that you start humming the song playing over the speaker while grabbing an order from the kitchen. You don’t even think twice about it. That is until you make it right in front of the table whose orders you’re holding and start to hear your own voice.

You nearly drop the four plates of burgers.

You rush over to the jukebox, not believing your ears, not believing that your voice, your words, your song is playing for the entire diner to hear. 

And there, right at the bottom it reads: “Begin Again” by the Numbers ft. you

“Holy shit.”

The desert wasn’t too far from home, but it could not have been more different. There was so much nothing for as far as your eyes could see. There was dust everywhere, all over the place, sifting up through the air and in your lungs. How are you supposed to sing like this?

You hear the bands’ voices come up from behind you. 

“Hey,” Seungcheol says, coming up next to you and resting an arm on the same wood railing as you. “How are you feeling?”

“Great.” You answer truthfully. You could barely believe it when you got the call from Jihoon saying that they wanted you to play the festival along with the Numbers. Although, considering that your song is playing on every radio station, it probably shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was. 

The crowd roars as the previous artist says his goodbye. 

“Have you ever played for a crowd like this?”

“Nope.”

He nods slowly. “It’s a lot. The first time especially, for sure. But just go with it, and uh,” he smiles, towards the ground, “it’s a lot of fun once you get past the nerves of it all.”

You look at him, battling against the grimace forming on your face. “Is this pep talk for me or for you? Cause I’m fine.”

His smile disappears when he sees your face. You must’ve lost the battle. 

He inhales sharply. “‘Begin Again’ is last. Come out after I introduce you.”

You nod, and he joins the rest of his band. 

The crowd cheers when they get on stage. The first song starts with a familiar guitar riff and the pound of the drums, followed by the crowd going ballistic. You’ve been playing on stage for a while now, but only ever in small clubs with small crowds. You’ve never seen a crowd like this, and it makes you ecstatic. 

You hear Seungcheol sing the final words of the song and Junhui play the final chords. And you don’t know if its the crowd or the shot of vodka you took during the bridge or the fucking look Seungcheol gives you, but something, something, makes you forget what Seungcheol said about waiting and walk right onto that stage. 

Joshua and Minghao look confused. Seungcheol looks vaguely pissed. Junhui and Soonyoung barely notice. But you don’t register any of that. All you can think as you walk onto that stage, grin flashing and arms up in the air is: this crowd was fucking waiting for me. 

You step up to your mic and wait until the crowd quiets down. You introduce “Begin Again” as a song you wrote. The crowd erupts. You look over at Seungcheol, smiling, no–grinning, loving how annoyed he looks. Minghao doesn’t miss a beat, starting the song immediately. Your body moves on its own, dancing to the song, belting out each note, and loving every second of it. It’s sometime during the second verse, the one Seungcheol sings alone, that you notice how entranced he is. His eyes are half closed, and his fingers fly across his guitar like he’s not even thinking about it. He smiles at the crowd. You think you hear someone faint. He looks your way then, right before the pre-chorus, smiling still as if he wasn’t just glaring at you. It hits you almost instantly: nothing else matters to him right now. He’s in it, like really in it, and the only thing he seems to care about is putting on a good show. He’s loving this as much as you are, and maybe that’s enough to prove that you and Choi Seungcheol are more alike than either of you think. 

You leave your mic stand and start dancing towards him. His entire body turns towards you, waiting for you, his eyes following. You meet right in front of his mic just as the chorus begins. And you’re left with no choice but to stand next to him, singing into the same mic with your faces so close you can feel every ragged breath he takes, see the sweat rolling off his hair, and hear the blood pumping through his veins. Take me home. You both sing with your entire chest. Welcome me on those familiar roads. You see him turn his head to face you. You mirror the motion, and sing the next line looking right into his eyes. Embrace me in your arms. Have his eyes always been this big? Oh please, tell me I still belong. And of course it’s this line you’re singing to each other like this. Of course it’s the one line in the entire song that you didn’t actually write and the one line he did. 

The chorus ends, and you slowly back away from his mic and move back towards yours. He rips away on his guitar, fingers still flying like it’s the easiest thing, all while never taking his eyes off you. Staring at you like he found something. Staring at you like it’s only you and him on that stage. 

You don’t even remember the song ending. 

Music flows through Northside Tavern. A jazz band is playing today, and the piano player keeps making eyes at you. 

“I heard the show over the weekend went well.” Jihoon says into your ear. You just nod. “And that the label really liked what you did with the song.”

You laugh. “Not just the label. The whole country liked it.” You give one last look to the pianist, before turning to Jihoon fully. “I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but I have a number one single.”

You head over to the bar and ask for an old-fashioned. 

“Not just you.” Jihoon yells behind you to be heard over the cheers after the band’s last song. 

You pivot. “Excuse me?” 

“It wasn’t just you.” Jihoon flags down the bartender, orders a scotch, neat. “It was the Numbers too.” 

The bartender slides over three drinks. 

You lean in over the counter. “We only ordered two.” 

Wordlessly, the bartender points to the other side of the bar. The piano player holds up their drink. Jihoon grabs his drink, and you grab the remaining two. You lift them both up towards the pianist who gives you a rather charming smile, and then take a simultaneous sip from the straws of both drinks. You taste your old-fashioned and what seems to be a margarita. 

You and Jihoon make your way over to a booth. 

“What I wanted to say,” Jihoon continues, “is that the label likes you with the band, and they want you to make an album with them.”

“An album?” You suck in your bottom lip, feeling a sudden rush from all the alcohol. An album is exactly what you’ve been pushing and working so damn hard for. So then why does this feel bittersweet?

“I think this is going to be a good thing.” Jihoon tells you sincerely, eyes softening. “You and Seungcheol…” he hesitates for a moment. You hate when he chooses his words like this, picking out the bad ones and testing out all the others. But perhaps you only hate it so much because you lack the ability to do it yourself. “You guys work.”

You take another long double sip of your drinks, squinting at Jihoon skeptically. “What did Seungcheol say?”

Jihoon’s mouth parts. There. There it fucking is. Running your tongue over your top set of teeth, you say, “you haven’t asked him yet, have you?”

“No, we haven’t asked him yet–”

“I can’t believe this.”

“–but the rest of the band is already on board, and we all thought it’d be smarter if you agreed before we asked him.”

You tilt your head slightly. You thought Jihoon knew you better than this. “I’m not saying anything until he does.”

“Be honest with yourself here,” Jihoon says seriously, pushing his drink to the side and leaning forward, “it’s no secret that you and Seungcheol don’t get along. And I get it; I really do. But I know you see it.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “See what?”

“Most people in this business spend their entire lives looking for what he and you found during the ‘Begin Again’ sessions and again on the stage at the festival. And most people fail. Don’t throw that away over whatever bullshit he gave you when you first met. Don’t throw away the chance you’ve been waiting for because of that. You guys belong together. Focus on that.”

You don’t say anything after Jihoon finishes his little speech. Instead you reach for your drinks and finish them both in one long, prolonged sip. You ignore his annoyed ‘tsk’. 

Putting the empty glasses down and to the side, you nod up at him, pursing your lips. “Are you done?”

He takes a long, final swig of his drink. “Yes.”

“Ask Seungcheol first.” You pull out your wallet and drop a couple bills on the table. “Then, you can call me.”

Today is already off to a bad start. 

Seungcheol had come into the studio ready to record and knock out at least 2 or 3 songs off the album today, but then Minghao wanted to talk about the album’s direction and Soonyoung wanted to request everyone to add as many drum parts as possible. 

And it’s as he’s listening to Junhui and Soonyoung argue about the addition of piano solos, that you walk into the studio. 

Jihoon welcomes you with a hug. Hansol, the sound engineer, offers to make you tea. Meanwhile, Seungcheol can’t understand why you deserve any kindness at this moment. Your session started an hour ago. 

“You’re late.” Seungcheol says, bringing the rest of the band to notice your arrival. 

You look at him with a smile, gesturing to the two boys who were just arguing. “Doesn’t really look like I missed anything.”

“We were talking about the album’s direction.” Minghao says from behind Seungcheol. 

You nod, putting down your stuff and taking a seat. “Okay, shoot.”

Seungcheol puts his hands up. “Well since we’re talking about it. I’ve been working on a couple songs, and,” he hesitates, pulling out a couple sheets of paper that Jihoon helped him print and handing them out, “I think I might have something good that we can build the rest of the album off of.”

Everyone takes a moment to read. Seungcheol watches the room carefully. Joshua clears his throat. Junhui plays a loose note. 

Your voice is the first that comes out of the silence. “Are you serious?”

He whips his head around. “What?”

“‘Will you still love me when I’m old? Will you still love me when I’m proud.’” You read aloud, before shoving the paper back towards him, that mocking smile still plastered on your face. “I’m not singing that.”

He scoffs, tongue swiping at his lips. “Why not? They’re good songs.”

You shrug. “They’re cheesy.”

“You haven't even read the whole thing.”

“I’ve read enough.”

“Are–are you… is this–I mean, like, you…” Seungcheol only knows one thing for sure right now: you might be the most insufferable person he’s ever met. “Jihoon!” 

“Okay, you know what,” Jihoon’s voice comes through the intercom. You both turn towards it. “How about you two go home and figure out some way to work together instead of wasting my studio time. Write one song, just one, together, and the rest of us can go from there tomorrow.”

He slips a curse between a breath. 

“Okay?”

You and Seungcheol look back at each other. It’s you who speaks first this time. “That’s fine with me.”

—

It’s a nice day out today. The sun shines through big clouds. There’s a nice breeze, and the roadways are empty. You’re sitting in the passenger seat humming something he can’t hear over the wind while Seungcheol drives. In all honesty, he doesn’t even know where he’s heading, but it might be the first time he's felt some semblance of peace with you around. 

The announcer on the radio station introduces the next song. Seungcheol turns it up and sings alongside Kim Mingyu’s voice. You stop humming.

“You like this song?” You ask. 

He quickly glances at you. “Yeah, who doesn’t.” The song was insanely popular a year or two ago. If you didn’t like it at first, you heard it enough on the radio and in every store until you did. Although, it doesn’t actually take anyone very many listens to fall in love with it. Unfortunately, the rest of Kim Mingyu’s songs never quite lived up to this one. 

“I wrote this song.” You say to him, as if it’s the most simple thing. 

“Oh, really?” Seungcheol replies with a chuckle. “You worked with Kim Mingyu?”

“Well, not all of it, but the melody and most of the lyrics, yes.” You tell him seriously, like you haven’t even registered that he thought you were joking. “I mean, worked is a strong word, but we did date for a bit.”

 Seungcheol stops at a red light and spends it staring you in disbelief. 

“Come on,” you say after a moment, “you really think Kim Mingyu wrote this song?” 

Seungcheol listens to it again: They could never get it out of their heads. Like a scene on repeat. Like a mountain falling. Something unforgettable, but forgotten still. Something like you. Someone like me. 

And instantly, it clicks–of course you wrote this song. Of course it’s the case that Kim Mingyu’s best song and one of Seungcheol’s favorites was written by none other than you. 

He looks over at you while at another light. Your head leans back against the car seat, and your arm hangs over the edge of the open window. You don’t look like you’re enjoying listening to the song even if you are the one that wrote it. In fact, you look mildly annoyed, nose scrunched while inspecting your nail beds, teeth grinding. 

Seungcheol changes the station thinking: why’d you let him take it?

Before he can really think about it any further, you sit up in your seat and point at the next light. 

“Turn right up there. I know a place.”

— 

When you had said that you knew a place, Seungcheol imagined that it’d be a coffee shop or an empty bar or anything other than the middle of the woods sitting on the rocks along a stream. 

Although, he must give you credit: the setting you’ve taken him to is beautiful. There are birds humming and life strumming all around you. The water is a blistering blue that glistens and shines in the sunlight streaming through the trees like a million coins falling from the sky. The water has a small current running through it, and it beats against the rocks lightly, like the lightest, most gentle drum beat. The breeze is nice and cool on Seungcheol’s skin, sifting through his hair and past his limbs. And maybe the best part is how all around him, on every single side, he’s surrounded by green. 

It would have been perfect, if not for the fact that you and him have been here for two hours and still have absolutely nothing. 

“Okay,” you relent, after he turns down another one of your ideas for a song, “how about this melody?”

You start humming one of the worst melodies Seungcheol’s ever heard in his life.

“Absolutely not.”

You grunt frustrated, arms falling through the air. Your head follows suit, settling in your hands, face buried from his view. 

“Why’d you even say yes to this?” You snap, looking up at him after a moment, brows furrowed and hands gesturing vaguely in the air. “If you have no intention of taking any idea I give you seriously, why did you say yes to this?”

“I didn’t.” Seungcheol reminds you. “Neither of us did. Jihoon kicked us out of the studio.”

“I don’t mean that.” You flare. “I mean letting me in to do this album with the Numbers. Why’d you agree to it?”

There’s a change in the wind. A sudden quietness that must be attributed to some insect dying. Seungcheol hadn’t expected you to ask this. He hadn’t even expected you to think it. 

“It wasn’t…” he starts, looking for the words in the space between you and him. He looks up at you, hoping to find them there. Instead he finds hope in them. 

Seungcheol has been in this exact spot before–sitting in front of someone that wants to believe in him and is asking him to give them a reason. He’s seen this before, and he has no interest in repeating his past mistakes. He sees no need to add you to the list of people he’s disappointed. With a short laugh, he says, “You know what, let’s just get back to writing.”

“Fuck that.”  You respond immediately, grabbing at his guitar.

“What are you–”

“No. Fuck that.” You repeat, successfully pushing his guitar off his lap. “If this is going to work, you have to at least pretend like you trust me. Song writing isn’t just strumming on your guitar all day and hoping for the best. It’s vulnerability, and it’s pouring your heart and soul and life into something and praying that someone out there feels the same way. That’s what ‘Begin Again’ was. And every single person who listened and liked that song and every single person who sang with us at the festival is saying that they feel the same way. So, what are you so afraid of? Why do you feel like you can’t trust me?”

Seungcheol gulps. “Which question should I answer first?”

You inhale slowly. “The latter.”

Seungcheol just shakes his head. “I don’t know you.”

“Ask me then.” You say desperately, like it should have been obvious to him, “whatever it is that you want to know just ask it.”

Seungcheol nods. In truth, there’s a million questions he wants to ask you about everything, but at this moment, all those questions sink to the bottom of his mind and only one rises to the top and travels to the tip of his tongue. “Why’d you let Kim Mingyu take credit for that song?”

You lean back slightly at his questions. Looking away from him and towards the murky waters before answering. “Believe it or not, I wasn’t always like this.” You tell him, laughing lightly. “I used to let guys like you walk all over me.”

His heart jumps into his throat. He’s barely able to choke out a, “guys like me?”

You nod, still refusing to meet his eyes. “Guys who don’t believe that I have what it takes.”

“I never said that.”

“But you showed me.”

“When?”

You look at him then, squinting. He hopes what you see is genuineness. He asked the question sincerely. “When you were so quick and ready to dismiss my changes to the lyrics during the ‘Begin Again’ takes. When you let me join your band on this album, and then expected me to sing an entire record full of songs that mean nothing to me. I’m a songwriter, Seungcheol. It’s the one thing about me that no one can take.”

Something between intrigue and malice slips in behind his tongue. “So what can people take?”

You shake your head, smiling ever so slightly. “My turn. What are you so afraid of?”

Seungcheol inhales sharply. “Well, I’m afraid of dying and of heights and–”

“Stop that.” You cut in, like you really mean it. “Why are you so afraid to say what you really think?”

He sucks in his bottom lip, shrugging. “‘Begin Again’ was your song more than it was mine. What if people don’t like what I have to say? What if they can’t relate and just think I’m fucked up and crazy?”

Your eyes soften, and your smile lines deepen. It takes a moment for him to register that you're smiling, really smiling, at him. He’s never known a smile could feel so inviting. 

“But what if they do?”

Seungcheol takes a moment to think about what you’ve said. And in that moment, whatever insect had died gets resurrected, returning to nature’s hum, filling his ears. Seungcheol looks all around him. The hum of life, the beat of water, the tune of leaves falling. He’s surrounded not just by nature and greenery, but also by music. And it’s erupting from every corner of these woods.

His eyes finally land on you.

“I think I found our melody.”

When you come into the studio the next day, the song is done. You went to sleep humming it still and running through the lyrics over and over again in your head.

“Let us sing it for you first,” Seungcheol suggests to the rest of the band with Jihoon listening in from the control room. “And whenever you feel like you got it, just hop in with what you think works, and we can refine and shape it from there.”

You watch the rest of the band as Seungcheol explains it. Minghao looks shocked, but excited. Soonyoung looks proud. And you can’t really read what the other two are thinking. 

“Jihoon, are we good?” Seungcheol asks, turning around to the window into the control room. 

“Whenever you’re ready.” Jihoon replies, voice filtering in through the intercom. You nod. Seungcheol nods. The rest of the band nods. Jihoon presses a couple buttons and says, “This is ‘Can You See Me’.”

Seungcheol starts playing the chords he found yesterday. You’re not sure why or how but it reminds you of those woods. His voice starts singing the first line of the song. You close your eyes and take it in. You join him for the chorus, singing alongside his voice feeling the words flow. It’s Junhui that joins you two first, playing a couple loose notes, testing things out. By the end of the chorus, he’s found it, playing a little more confidently and adding a whole new level of depth to the song. A depth that makes you feel like you’ve only ever known two colors your whole life and in a matter of seconds Junhui added in a third. Joshua joins in next, as your voice takes over for the second verse, playing off what Seungcheol was playing but making it his own. Seungcheol goes over to where Soonyoung’s sitting and says something to him in his ear. Soonyoung nods. Seungcheol goes over to Minghao, but Minghao shakes his head, already starting to play something. Seungcheol heads back to his mic right before the second chorus starts. You turn and sing the last line of the pre-chorus to him

And I know that you never trusted me. 

He joins you for the chorus, singing back.

Can you see me standing from there? And can you see the blood on my hands? If I give you all of the parts to my heart, Will you care that I’ve been scarred and stitched up?

Soonyoung starts playing then, the drums filling in the last thing the song needed. You listen to the rest of the band play and marvel at how insanely talented they all are to pick up and play something that actually works after only a minute of hearing it. The song needs polishing, yes, but it’s got a good sound and it’s heading in the right direction.  

You don’t take your eyes off Seungcheol, and he doesn’t take his eyes off you. And for the remainder of the song, you sing to each other. 

The song ends. The last one playing is Junhui. And for a couple seconds, no one says anything. 

It’s Jihoon’s voice that comes out of the silence first. “I’m a fucking genius.” 

You smile at Seungcheol. He smiles back. 

After recording and polishing ‘Can You See Me’, you and Seungcheol fall into a song-making rhythm of sorts.

(We don’t always have it perfect.)

“I feel like this lyric in ‘Puzzle Pieces’ doesn’t fit.” You say to Seungcheol, before muttering the lyric outloud. “It’s too shy. I don’t know. I just think it’s missing the mark a little bit, don’t you think?”

Seungcheol groans tiredly. “God, I can’t think about this anymore. Can we take a break? Go get some food or something?”

“Yes, but before we do, do you think ‘I see us standing in the distance’ or ‘I see you standing in the distance’ works better here?”

Seungcheol just stands ignoring your question and muttering ‘no’ repeatedly. 

You follow, running after him and begging him to listen. 

(Boy, do we fight.)

“I think there should be more drums in the hook.” Seungcheol announces after the third run through. 

“Why?”

His eyes widen, sarcastically. “Because there should be.”

“Don’t do that.” You scoff, used to his antics. “Answer the question: why?”

He sighs, resting his hands on his hips. “It’s missing something. The song still feels empty. I mean, the lyrics allude to a love that’s blooming and growing between two individuals, but nothing behind the lyrics build up with it. There’s almost a disconnect between the words and the music.”

“I disagree.” 

He scoffs. “All that for–”

“I think it works just fine without the drums, and if you add the drums it’ll become more suspenseful. The song is supposed to feel like falling.”

He shakes his head. “It’s supposed to feel like butterflies.”

“It’s supposed to feel like peace.”

(Sometimes you win.) 

“Let’s vote.” Seungcheol suggests. “If you’re for the drums, raise your hand.”

Only Soonyoung (the drummer), does.

(Sometimes you lose.)

Jihoon presses the red button on the sound board, announcing to the recording stage, “Take 3 of Aurora. Seungcheol, try softening your voice a little for this one.”

“Jihoon, can we just try one take with me in it?” You ask him. “I think even if I were just singing a harmony or in the background of the bridge, it would add so much.”

“No.” Jihoon says, scribbling something down in his notebook. “I’m with Seungcheol on this one.”

“Jihoon, you haven’t even heard my–”

“This song doesn’t need your voice.”

(But sometimes, we get it just right and fit like the last two puzzle pieces.)

“No,” you say, shaking your head as Joshua and Minghao finish off the last chords of the song, “It needs to sound murkier.”

Joshua, Junhui, Soonyoung, and Minghao just stare at you blankly.

“Less cymbals, Soonyoung.” Seungcheol says over the speaker from the control room. “And Minghao, ride out the low tones more.” 

You turn and see him. He catches your eyes, smiling slightly, reassuring you. Like he gets you. 

From behind you, you hear Junhui lightheartedly mutter, “since when do they have their own language?”

Joshua and Soonyoung laugh, but you barely notice because you see him. You see the way his brows furrow when he’s thinking. You see the way he sticks out his tongue when he’s focused. You see all of it. 

And for a moment, he sees you. All of you. And he doesn’t turn away from it.  

Today’s songwriting session quickly turned into a field trip from the studio to grab food which then turned into you leading Seungcheol’s car to the beach. You and Seungcheol sit on a stone ledge, right where the sand begins, 20 paces away from the ocean. Between you sits leftover fries and your untouched song notebook. You watch the sun dip into the sea and listen to the waves crash over and over again. The wind pushes furiously, tossing his hair to the side and pushes his head away from it. It just so happens that away from the wind means towards you. 

“So,” you begin, popping a fry in your mouth and dusting the salt off your hands, “when are you going to answer my question of why you let me in the band?”

Seungcheol figured this question was coming. He’s been avoiding answering it. “You really want to know?”

You look at him sincerely. “Yes.”

Seungcheol looks out to the water. “After our first album, Jihoon prepared a tour for us. It was this tiny tour, not even big enough for a tour manager. We played in the smallest venues with okay-sized crowds. I mean, it was barely a tour, really more of a way to get our name out there. And after the northern leg of it, I…” Seungcheol closes his eyes and sees moments from that tour flash behind his lids: strobe lights, bodies in bed, empty glasses, and negative pockets. Sometimes memories can feel like nightmares. “I was just in a really, really, bad place. By the time we were halfway down the east coast, I was barely even able to play. Jihoon saved me then. He saved my fucking life. But he had to cancel the rest of the tour in that process. The rest of the band, man, they couldn’t even stand the sight of my face. Minghao especially. It was Jihoon who ended up being the one to convince them to let me back in. I owe Jihoon my entire livelihood and my life. So when he asked what I thought about you joining the band for this album and when I saw how badly he wanted it to happen, I owed it to him to say yes.”

It’s been so long since he’s recounted that story, even to himself. It doesn’t hurt as much as it once did. That knowledge surprises him. 

“Where are you now?” You ask suddenly, pulling him out of his head.

He turns to you. “What?”

“If you were in a bad place then, where are you now?”

The wind quiets for a moment; he feels a warmth overtake him in its absence. “Someplace better.”

He looks down, not even noticing the smile growing on his face, and catches sight of your notebook. He points at it, asking, “may I?”

You look down at it as well, grabbing another fry. “Sure.”

He flips through the pages of your notebook. The first half isn’t even songs. It’s snippets, words, singular sentences taking up an entire page. It’s only halfway through the book that it actually turns into something that could be called songwriting. He asks you about it. 

“Ah, that’s when I met Jihoon.” You tell him, smiling fondly. Seungcheol puts the notebook down and waits for you to explain. “Before him, I had songs, but they weren’t real songs, you know? They were just some combination of all the snippets and sentences I had written down. But then Jihoon heard me play at the Eastern, and said that I had a good voice. He asked if he could give me his card so that we could talk more, and I said that I wasn’t interested in people who only saw me for my voice and walked away.” 

“You’re insane.” Seungcheol mutters, baffled. He remembers the chance encounter he had with Jihoon right after he and the band moved down here to make a name for themselves. He remembers how hard he begged for the same chance Jihoon offered to you so simply. “So, how’d you end up working with him then?”

“He found me again at the diner I used to work at after that. I told him I still wasn’t interested, and he asked if I had written the song I played that night at the Eastern. I said yes, and he said that he was only interested in my voice because my songs weren’t there yet.”

Seungcheol chuckles.  “So he’s always been an asshole then?”

“Oh yeah.” You nod, mirroring the sound. “He was an asshole about it, but he was right. And it was the first time that someone believed in me enough to think that I could be better. That is what made me want to try and write a song that would make him see that I’m as good of a songwriter as I am a singer. I spent a lot of time working and got out one good song. I sang it all across the strip. He finally saw me play again at Ben’s Garage. I let him sign me after that.”  

“What was that song about?”

Your lips do this half frown thing that makes Seungcheol want to peer inside your brain and figure out exactly where it came from. “It was about what all songs are about.”

“Which is?”

You look at him like it’s obvious. “Love.”

It feels like a shot of sunlight through his veins. 

Seungcheol drives you back home after the beach. You had gotten nothing done in terms of the album, but you felt happy, and you felt free. You watch him from the corner of your eye. You’ve only known each other for some months now, but it feels like so much longer. You’ve told him more about yourself and your past than anyone else you’ve met in your adult life. You’ve told him your deepest worries and darkest secrets, and he never turned away from you, not once. Instead he took your insecurities and turned them into beautiful melodies. He turned all your doubts into celebrations of hope. And he did it for you. 

Suddenly, it no longer feels like you only met him when you recorded ‘Begin Again’ together. Suddenly, it feels like you’ve known him since you were a teenager and like you’ve been in love with him ever since. Your palms start to sweat. Your heart sinks past your lungs. Is it all those goddamn fries or him that’s making your stomach turn?

He turns onto your street. This is it, you think to yourself. This is everything I’ve been waiting for.

He walks you to your door, and you stand facing each other on your porch. 

“This was nice.” You tell him, taking another step towards him. 

“It was.” He mumbles, a lazy smile on his face.  

You take another step towards him. He doesn’t move back. His mouth parts. You watch his lips, trace them with your gaze. You think about what it would feel like to kiss them. 

“Do you want to come in for a bit?” The words come flying out of your mouth involuntarily. You barely register that you’ve said them. They didn’t come from your mind but from a tiny spot deep in your gut where the urge to take another step towards him lies. You give into that urge without thinking twice about it. You’re closer to him than you’ve been in months. The last time you were this close being that moment on stage during the ‘Begin Again’ performance. You’re surprised you remember that. His breaths then were ragged, uneven. His breaths now are barely there, like he isn’t even breathing. You can smell the mint he popped in his mouth when you left from the beach. You can smell whatever perfume he must’ve sprayed on his neck this morning. 

And you’re so wholly aware of the fact that his eyes are looking at your lips. 

He turns away from you and glances at your door, saying, “I should go.” 

You feel something in your chest sink and sink and sink. 

“I’ll see you in the studio tomorrow.” He continues. “We still gotta help Junhui figure out his part for ‘Puzzle Pieces’.” 

And with that he’s off, and you’re left standing on the porch alone wondering how someone can look at you like that and then just leave. You look down by your feet and see your heart sitting there, next to your shoes. You leave it there and head it inside. 

The next day, Jihoon cancels your studio time without explanation and reschedules you and the band for the following day. 

When that day finally does come, Seungcheol doesn’t show up on time to help you and Junhui figure out the right notes to play for the song you wrote together like he said. Instead, he stumbles into the studio late with a song in his hand wearing the same clothes he wore with you at the beach. And that alone, feels like a betrayal of some sort. 

“What’s it about?” Joshua asks.

He looks around the room, excited. “It’s about my new partner.” 

You feel the urge to vomit all over the recording stage. 

—

Jeonghan, it turns out, is Seungcheol’s partner’s name. Seungcheol had brought him into the studio a week after they started dating, and he’s been coming routinely ever since. As much as you hate it and as much as it makes your heart bend and break, Seungcheol looks really, genuinely happy with him. You wonder if he ever looked like that with you. 

You really wish you hated Jeonghan, but you don’t. He’s actually quite nice and gets along with the whole band so easily. He even makes friends with Jihoon. You thought he might be a distraction to Seungcheol while writing and recording, but Seungcheol is more focused and productive and creative than ever. The song he wrote right after meeting him is good, like stupidly good. There isn’t a single word in it that needs changing. 

With your help, Seungcheol writes another song about him, called ‘Light of My Life.’ It’s while writing that song that you find out that Jeonghan was never a stranger, and that day after the beach was not their first meeting. It’s Soonyoung who tells you how Jeonghan is from their hometown and how Seungcheol and Jeonghan used to date. 

The day that you record ‘Light of My Life’ Jeonghan is also in the studio, sitting in the control room and laughing at something with Hansol. 

You light up my life even when it’s dark. You both sing together. It’s an acoustic song; only Joshua stands behind you guys strumming the chords on his guitar. The rest of the band didn’t even come in today. You color my world even when I’m feeling blue. You glance over at Seungcheol. He isn’t looking your way. He’s looking at Jeonghan through the control room window. When I’m with you, I never feel alone. You think about the times when he used to look at you while recording. When you hold me, baby, I feel at home. Jeonghan looks back at Seungcheol. It hits you how beautiful he is, with his dyed silver hair and slender face. You don’t blame Seungcheol for writing such a beautiful song about him. You don’t blame yourself for helping him. I can’t believe this has happened to me. Seungcheol wrote this song for Jeonghan, but he wasn’t the only writer on this song. Right before the next line, Seungcheol finally finally turns and looks at you. I feel alive because of you. 

Seungcheol turns back to the control room, and for the rest of the song, you wonder that if Seungcheol wrote this song for Jeonghan, who the hell did you write this song for?

—

A tune comes to you while you drive home that night. You scribble down a couple lyrics in your notebook as soon as you walk through your door. 

Silver hair. Silver skin. Sliver of my heart you took with him. 

Joshua throws a party that weekend. A housewarming for the house he bought with the ‘Begin Again’ checks. Stepping in through the foyer, you question whether you should be buying a house too. You forget that thought by the time you reach the drinks table. 

After your hellos to the rest of the band and all the small talk with people Joshua wanted to introduce you to, you end up standing alone in his backyard, sloshing around the dark liquid in your cup. Truthfully, you’ve barely left your apartment all week. You hadn’t been in the mood for a party. But it’s nice out here. The air is fresh and crisp. The lights, which Soonyoung and Minghao enthusiastically and drunkenly told you they helped put up, are warm but not too bright. You imagine you’ll stay out here for the rest of the party. 

“Hi,” you hear a voice say from behind you. You turn around only to find Jeonghan. You hope your face doesn’t betray you when you greet him back. “What are you doing out here?” 

You gulp down a bitter sip of your drink. “Just wanted some quiet.” 

“Same. Junhui started doing karaoke again.” 

“Oof.” You groan sympathetically. “Already?” 

He just nods with a laugh. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen all of them.” 

You like Jeonghan. You really do. It’s just taken you until now to realize that you don’t really know him apart from small talk in the studio and the two songs Seungcheol wrote about him. “When did you move down here from your guys’ hometown?” 

“Oh.” His chin juts out a bit. “I moved down with the band actually.” 

You don’t hide the surprise on your face. 

“I take it no one told you that then.” Jeonghan chuckles darkly. You shake your head. “Uh, well, yeah,” he continues, shoving his free hand into his pocket, “Seungcheol and I started dating right when the band formed. I used to do the photography for them. And when they proposed moving out here, I thought I ought to come with. And I did.” He gulps his drink. “It was good for a while. Really fun in the beginning. But then I got my job taking pictures for the paper, and they were doing the album. And well,” he looks at you like you already know what he’s about to say. You don’t. “It already wasn’t really working anymore by the time the album was finished. And then they went on tour…” 

He leaves that part blank. But based on what you heard from Seungcheol about that first tour, you can piece together what might’ve happened. You question whether Jeonghan left that empty to spare Seungcheol or to spare himself. Then you question how he knew you knew about it. 

“Oh.” Is all you say. You don’t ask about when they encountered each other again. You don’t want to hear it. 

“You know,” Jeonghan begins again, “I actually used to watch you play at the Tabernacle.” 

You groan immediately. You only ever played at the Tabernacle when you first started. You cringe thinking about what you might’ve sang on stage in front of him. “Oh my god. I’m so embarrassed to even think about those days.” 

“No! Don’t be!” He reassures, kindly. “You were really good. I especially liked that one song that went like… The days were wide open, as far as the eye could see.” 

Your heart nearly soars straight out of your body. You had forgotten about this song. You used to love it dearly. You join Seungcheol’s boyfriend for the second line.

The world was mine to take, but I’ve never been good at accepting things. 

“You and the band together,” Jeonghan says a moment after you both stop singing, “it’s magical, don’t get me wrong, but that song,” he smiles at you, “it’s a damn good song.” 

You can’t help but smile back. “Thank you.” 

“Cheol showed me a couple of the songs from the album.” Jeonghan mentions, and it instantly and heartbreakingly reminds you who you’re talking to. You hate that he has a nickname for him. “They’re amazing.” You look at him. He seems genuine. “They’re so good and real and raw that it almost makes me wonder…” his voice tapers off, losing the sound to a small exhale that appears as if it was meant to be a laugh, “Nevermind.” 

“What?” You poke, instinctively leaning in towards him.

He meets your eyes, creases running along his forehead and frown lines more prominent than ever. “It almost makes me wonder if there was something between you both.” 

You swallow, pointing at your chest. Your voice comes out raspy without you meaning for it to. “Me and Seungcheol?” 

He nods. “Yeah, I mean the lyrics in ‘Begin Again’—“ 

“That song’s not about me. Or about him.” You defend. “We didn’t even know each other when we wrote that.” 

“What about ‘Can You See Me’?” 

Your breath catches. Truthfully, you answer, “I don’t know what that song’s about.” 

—

When you get home that night, you finish the song you started writing about Seungcheol and Jeonghan. 

When you breathe in his lips, do you think of mine? What kind of songs were we making? Were they all lies? 

“What’s it called?” The question comes from Soonyoung. 

You look up from the paper in your hands filled with the lyrics you had completed over the weekend and after Joshua’s party. You notice he looks sad. You turn your gaze to Minghao. You can’t really tell what he’s thinking in that moment. 

“Uhm–I don’t know. I haven’t thought of a title yet.”

Seungcheol walks in then. “What are you guys talking about?” He asks, setting down his stuff. Then, more to himself than to you guys, he murmurs, “And where are Junhui and Josh?”

Soonyoung and Minghao don’t say anything. Instead, when Seungcheol asks what you’re doing, they both look at you. You imagine even if Junhui and Joshua were here, they’d do the same. Have you really been this transparent? At what point did they put together all the pieces? 

You hand Seungcheol the song. You have no idea what his reaction will be. 

He just nods, like he has no idea what the song is about. Like he doesn’t see his name and Jeonghan’s scribbled in the margins. 

“Call it ‘Silver Lies’.” He says. 

Minghao makes a noise. “Call it ‘Silver Linings’.” 

“Vote on it?” Seungcheol proposes. 

“No.” You look at Minghao. He stares back at you. Something unspoken lies in the space between. “We’ll call it ‘Silver Linings’.”

A party rages around you. Flashing teeth and flashing lights. Another drink, another riff. You don’t even know where you are right now. You remember coming home after working on ‘Silver Linings’; you remember wanting to forget your own mind. This is the only way you know how.

You don’t even know how long it’s been. 

This is what you do know: You’re sitting by a pool. Your feet are wet. You haven’t been this drunk since your 18th birthday. Choi Seungcheol is standing across the pool from you. 

Your face breaks out in a smile. Sober you will regret that. Sober you will also regret how your first thought is that he looks beautiful. You’ll regret the fact that you finally, drunkenly but honestly, admit to yourself how pretty you think he is, how you’ve thought so since your first time hearing him sing, and how you’ve been so painfully aware of it ever since. 

You let yourself fall in the water. Head sinking for a moment, before breaking the surface again. Floating on your back, you start humming the melody to ‘Silver Linings’ in your head. 

Silver hair. Silver skin. Sliver of my heart you took with him. 

You can’t tell if it’s the chlorine or something more pathetic that burns the corner of your eyes and runs down the side of your cheeks. 

You feel something tug on your arm. The sudden jolt makes you lose your balance, falling beneath the water. You’re so fucking wasted you forget if you even know how to swim; you almost forget to not breathe. 

You feel a pair of arms pull you up and hold your head above the surface. You know who they belong to. It strikes you in the back of your mind that this is the first time you’ve been touched by him. So maybe that’s why you relish in the feel of his arms around your waist and the way his hand grips at your hip. 

He looks at you like you’re filth. Just as all your partners before him did. First they’re sweet and charming, but it always ends like this. In their arms, simultaneously wanting to be far away and fighting the urge to beg: love me, please. 

Even if he wasn’t your partner, even if all he was was a hope and a ‘what if’. 

You barely even register it when you say, “you're just like the rest of them.” 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He rages back, not even acknowledging what you said.

“Nothing.” You tell him, smiling, wishing like hell that you believed it. 

“You missed our studio time. We were supposed to record ‘Silver Linings’.” He fumes at you. “Do you know what time it is? Do you even know what day it is?”

“Do you know how much of a fucking mood kill you can be?” You bite back. 

“What are you on?” He looks repulsed. You hate it. Hate the way that you showed him your whole heart and that he still looks at you like this. 

Seething, you say, “What do you think?” 

And that—that is what breaks him. What makes him lose his shit and start screaming. 

“Jihoon is fuming at us!” 

You barely notice it. Instead, you repeat in your head the words to the one song you truly, wholeheartedly wrote for him. 

“The record label isn’t going to let this slide, you do realize that, don’t you?” 

When you breathe in his lips, do you think of mine? 

“You wasted an entire day of recording!”

What kind of songs were we making? 

“No.” You say finally, voice coming out quiet. It sounds so misplaced and so wrong next to all the yelling between you two. “We wasted so much more than that.” 

Were they all lies?

For the first time since you’ve seen him tonight, he doesn’t say anything back. He just stares at you, like he can see straight through. The party continues all around you. It never stopped. It never quieted down. And yet, it somehow feels like you and him are the only ones in this pool. Like you’re stuck in time. Like you’ve created your own world with him and that’s where you’ve retreated to now. 

“Was any of it real?” You ask before you can stop the words. You hate how pathetic you sound. You hate how desperate it all is. 

All he says before leaving you in the water alone is: “I’m with Jeonghan now.” 

He splashes water in your face on his way out. 

When Seungcheol walks into the studio, you’re already there, talking with Jihoon and someone else he doesn’t recognize. 

“Hello.” He says cautiously to the group.  

The man says hi back. You don’t look at him. Jihoon is the one that finally explains. 

“Seungcheol, hey, this is Wonwoo. He’s from the paper, The Stones, and he’s going to be doing a piece on the band and the creation of the album.  It’ll be an inside look into the process of making an album and a bit about the band itself.” 

“Hey, man,” Seungcheol greets properly, extending his hand to shake. Wonwoo fumbles with a place to set down the pen and notebook in his hand for a second, before shaking it. Seungcheol doesn’t miss the way you scoff under your breath. “Wonwoo, right?” The reporter nods. “Anything you want us to do for you or for the piece?”

“No. Not at all.” He shakes his head profusely. “Just keep working on the album as you would normally. I might pop in here and there with questions, but other than that, it’ll be like I’m not even here.”

Seungcheol smiles brightly. “Well, you’re in for a treat today because we have a song to record.”

For the first time that day and for the first time since that night in the pool, you look at him. “No, we don’t.” He wonders if you remember that night, what you said to him, what he said back. 

“Actually,” he reaches into his bag and pulls out a piece of paper he’s been working on for the past two days. He hands it to you. “We do.”

You read the lyrics silently for a moment, then frowning, you read them aloud. “I’m used to making games out of broken hearts. Silly me for trying to play around with yours.”

Wonwoo makes a noise. “Damn. I wonder who that’s about.”

You snap, whipping back around to Wonwoo. “What happened to ‘it’ll be like I’m not even here’?” 

He mutters an apology and quickly scribbles something down in his notebook. You turn back to Seungcheol. “I’m not singing that.”

He ignores you and looks at Jihoon. “Let me see the song.”

You extend the paper out to him without taking your eyes off of Seungcheol. In Jihoon’s defense, he’s been working the hardest to keep the peace as early as when you recorded ‘Being Again’ together. Nonetheless, your face still morphs from hurt to angry. Seungcheol doesn’t blame you, but he also doesn’t really give a fuck. 

Jihoon, sounding more exhausted than Seungcheol has ever heard him sound before, only sighs. “How about we just try the song?”

—

Recording first starts with the instrumentals. The rest of the band recording their parts exactly as Seungcheol heard it in his head. 

Finally, with the rest of it recorded, he focuses on vocals. 

He only wants you singing it. 

“Take one of...” Jihoon starts, speaking through the intercom. “What’s it called again?”

Seungcheol answers: “‘We Are Not Done.’”

You’re the only one in the recording stage. Seungcheol sits in the control room with Jihoon, Hansol, and Wonwoo. The rest of the band is either home, in the lobby, or behind him in the control room. Seungcheol’s already demonstrated for you the general beat of the lyrics against the instrumental. You still hold the lyrics up behind the mic, brows furrowed at them. 

“Pour me a drink I–for all…” Normally, you’re a picture of confidence in the recording studio, but your first attempt to sing the song is an absolute train wreck. 

Seungcheol reaches over Jihoon’s shoulder and presses the red button. “Cut. What’s going on?”

You look through the window, exasperated. “I don’t get it. The words, they just–”

“It’s–Pour me a drink for all the fools made out of me.” Seungcheol demonstrates again. “I can’t live with myself half past 12–and it’s just like that for this whole verse.” He waits a moment. “Good?”

You stare at the lyrics, brows still scrunched together. “Yea.” 

“Okay. Take two.”

You sing: “Pour me a drink for all the fools made out of me.” Your voice is timid, almost. Seungcheol’s never heard you sound or act anything close to timid before. “I can’t live with myself half past 12.”

“Cut.” Seungcheol stops you again. “You have to sound larger than life singing, like you don’t care if people see how fucked up you are.”

“Excuse me?” You nearly scream at him.

“I’m talking about the song.”

Jihoon shakes his head. “Take 3.”

You look mad now. At least that will be closer to what Seungcheol wants. “Pour me a drink for all the fools made out of me.”

“Cut.” Seungcheol can see you biting your tongue. “Sing it looser. Less restrained. Don’t worry about hitting the notes. Take 4.”

“Pour me a drink for all the fools–”

“Cut.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Even looser. Take 5.”

“Pour me a drink f–”

“Cut. Let your voice get ‘ugly’. Take 6.”

“Pour me–”

“Cut!”

— 

(Wonwoo’s interview with Seungcheol)

Wonwoo: So, Seungcheol, I remember there being an impossible number of takes for the track ‘We Are Not Done’, specifically for the vocals. In the end, How’d you get them to sing like… that?

Seungcheol: Sometimes all it takes is a little push

—

(Wonwoo’s interview with you)

Wonwoo: ‘We Are Not Done’ is such a force of nature. How’d you end up singing it like that?”

You: Well, let’s just say that Seungcheol is really good at what he does.

Wonwoo: And what does he do?

You: He inspires. 

—

The red light flashes again. “Take 32.”

The only thought you have when the blue recording light turns back on is that you fucking hate Choi Seungcheol, but you still want him and you hate that he knows that. 

The track starts. 

Pour me a drink for all the fools made out of me. I can’t live with myself half past 12. I’m used to making games out of broken hearts.  Silly me for trying to play around with yours. I know you’re with someone new, But is that really true  If you’re still thinking of my kiss and my tongue?  I’m your wildest dream. I’m your best nightmare. You and me, baby, we are not done. 

You’re beyond pissed driving home from the studio that day. 

The first fucking day with the reporter and Seungcheol chose to make you look like an idiot. He chose to make you sing that song with Wonwoo sitting behind, taking it all in. 

Not to mention that that was the first time you’ve seen him since he showed up at the party while you were trying to get over him the only way you know how. When he held you in his arms, made you feel so stupidly warm, and then left with someone else’s name on his lips. 

You hate Seungcheol. Maybe joining the band wasn’t worth it. Wasn’t worth him. 

Your vision goes red and all you can think is: isn’t he over this yet? Aren’t I?

Suddenly, there’s a bang. A puff of smoke. The airbag releases. Your entire body clenches, lurching forward and then back again harshly. 

A crash, you register belatedly, staring at the hood of your car folded up like a piece of paper. 

Paper. 

You dig inside your glove box for your notebook and shove your hand in the space between the passenger seat and the center console to find a pen. 

“What the fuck?” The man from the car you hit screams, stepping out of his car.

You ignore it. A song, you had it just then. You had it.

“You hit me!” He yells again, getting closer.

Your pen hits the paper, and it doesn’t stop until the song is on it. Not even when you notice blood drip. Not even when the man starts banging on your window.

Is it over now? Do you have the guts? To call it quits, baby, Say I’ve had enough. Is it over now? Can we say the words? I used to love you, Now I’m not sure. 

(Wonwoo’s interview with you)

Wonwoo: What’s it been like working with the band? From ‘Begin Again’ to now?”

You: Oh, well, ‘Begin Again’ was a totally different story. I wasn’t really part of the group or anything. I was more just an outsider that Jihoon and the label had brought in. I changed up most of the lyrics, but the song was never really mine. I think it’s taken me a while to realize that. But, now, I mean, working on the album together couldn’t be more different. Seungcheol and I co-write almost all of the songs. It’s been a much more collaborative project compared to ‘Begin Again’. It’s been exhausting and tiring and life-consuming, but um, it’s been a lot of fun.

Wonwoo: So, going back a bit, if you rewrote all of the lyrics to ‘Begin Again’, how is it not your song?

You: Seungcheol already had some lyrics written for that song. I was just the one to figure out what he was really trying to say with them. 

Wonwoo: Hm

Wonwoo: So what’s it been like working with Seungcheol? 

You: Well, it definitely wasn’t easy at first.

Wonwoo: Why not?

You: I think we were both just used to writing alone. We learned a lot in those first couple writing sessions, and I think we’ve both grown a lot since then. 

Wonwoo: What’d you learn?

You: We’re very similar people. We think about love very similarly. We have fought the same battles, and we’re both able to turn our pain and struggling into something beautiful. 

Wonwoo: How would you describe you and Seungcheol’s personal relationship?

You: What do you mean?

Wonwoo: Friends, lovers, enemies, etc.

You: We have chemistry, but

You:

You: But I think that to write together there has to be love. What else would all the songs be about?

Wonwoo: Is that what ‘Can You See Me’ is about? Love?

You: That’s for each listener to figure out for themselves.

Wonwoo: You also said that you co-wrote most of the songs with Seungcheol.

You: Yes.

Wonwoo: So, did you guys co-write ‘We Are Not Done’ and ‘Is It Over Now?’?

You: 

Wonwoo: No need to go into details if you’re not comfortable. I’m only really looking for a yes or a no. 

You: It–

You: It’s not as simple as a yes or a no.

—

(Wonwoo’s interview with Seungcheol)

Wonwoo: What’s it been like working with someone else for the song writing on this album?

Seungcheol: It’s been hard. There’s a lot of push and pull for each word in each song, but I think at the end of the day, we’ve been able to put together an almost complete record of songs that we’re both proud of.

Wonwoo: It’s been said that the two of you have chemistry–

Seungcheol: Who said that?

Wonwoo: –do you agree with that?

Seungcheol:

Seungcheol: It’s not what you think.

Wonwoo:

Seungcheol: Look, whatever chemistry people think there is between us, I mean, it–it’s for the music and for the songs, not for each other. 

Wonwoo: Are you saying it’s all fake? 

Seungcheol: No, but it’s not real life either. 

Wonwoo: So you guys fabricated some of it to sell records?

Seungcheol: I just don’t want people to get the wrong idea. 

Wonwoo: Which is what?

Seungcheol: That there’s something between us romantically. There isn’t. 

Wonwoo: Not even a little bit?

Seungcheol: Not even once.

The photo shoot for the album they decided should be in the desert. You’re not really sure why. Probably something to do with the desert show where you and the band first played together. You didn’t have a choice in the matter. If you did, you would have suggested the opposite. Maybe something on the shore. Nonetheless, you let them tell you where to sit and exactly how to do it.

The photographers look between each other after each flash of light in your face. Thank god they aren’t actors. You can read on their faces how much they hate each photo taken. 

“You know what,” the head photographer says to the band, “let’s just take 5.”

You’re up immediately, walking away from the weird set they’ve put together and heading straight to the snack table. You say hi to Jeonghan standing there with a camera around his neck. 

“Did the paper send you or did you come with Seungcheol?” You ask lightheartedly, picking at some grapes.

He laughs, fiddling with the lens. “No, not the paper. I just like to bring my camera with me sometimes. Plus,” he adds with a far off smile, looking up the hill at Joshua, Junhui, and Minghao talking, “reminds me of the old days.”

You look up past those three to where Soonyoung and Seungcheol are laughing at something you wish you were privy to. “I get that.” 

“Actually, Seungcheol and I wanted to talk to you.” He says. His lips look pressed, eyes bright, fighting a smile but also fighting something else far beneath that. “Once the album wraps, we’re, uh, we’re gonna get married.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, I know. It was his idea, but I’m really excited about it too.” He tells you, abashedly. “We’re gonna keep it small, I think. Do it back in our hometown so that our families can be there and everything. I think most of the band is gonna travel back too to be there, and, uh, I know it would mean a lot to both of us if you were there too.” 

You look at Jeonghan. You don’t really think he’s lying about the last part, but that still doesn’t make it any easier for you to swallow. “I don’t really know if that’s a good idea.”

“I do.” Jeonghan doesn’t falter. It reminds you of you before Seungcheol. You wonder where that version of you went. After a moment, his face softens, lips turning down a bit, but eyes looking as kind and as big as ever. You notice that his hair isn’t silver anymore. 

“I know that it’s complicated between you and Seungcheol. And I’m not going to act like I get it because I don’t. But I like you and I know he loves you. If not for anything, then for this.” Jeonghan gestures to the shitty set they prepared. You look at it, chuckling. It’s shitty, yes. But Jeonghan’s right. This must’ve cost the label a fuck ton of money. “He and the band wouldn’t have any of this if not for you. You did that for them.” 

You turn back to Jeonghan. Genuinely, you tell him, “Thank you.”

You open your arms to him. He welcomes it, hugging you back. You exhale. You can barely remember the last time you did. 

“Congratulations, Jeonghan.” You feel him grin. 

“Please come.” He requests. 

You don’t know if you will. But you do know that you’re happy for him. 

—

The next round of photos are no better than the last. You hope at least Jeonghan, who’s moved on to taking pictures of the scenery, is having a better shoot day than the label-hired photographers. 

You find Seungcheol again during the next break, standing in the back at the top most part of the hill, sun shining down directly behind his head.

“Hey.” He says to you, not casually but not maliciously either.

You stop in front of him, just staring. Without you even meaning to, you frown. Seungcheol must notice. He tilts his head. “What’s up?”

You inhale sharply. “You’re getting married.”

His mouth opens, then closes. “I’m getting married.”

You shake your head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I-it never..” He stops trying to find the words. You find that as more of an answer than anything he could’ve said. “I’m sorry.”

“Take me home.” You recite, thinking of the first window you ever had into Seungcheol’s heart. “Welcome me on those familiar roads. Embrace me in your arms. Oh please, tell me I still belong. It was always about him, wasn’t it?”

Seungcheol doesn’t say anything. You know him too well to think he would. Instead, he sucks in his bottom lip and turns his gaze to the ground. You bend your neck to see his face, see his red eyes. This is the only time you’ll have him like this again. This is it.

The only thing you have left to say to him is: “I hope you’re happy.”

—

When you go home that night, you drink yourself past consciousness. It’s only when you wake up with a pounding head the next morning do you see the song sitting next to you, written in sloppy, drunken handwriting. 

Tell me was it worth all the pain Tell me would you do it over again Tell me was it worth the lights and your name Tell me was it worth the sound of my shame Tell me was it worth the album and the songs That I only sang thinking they were about us Tell me some it was true, not in my head Did we only kiss to sound how you wanted?

I know I’m not yours But let me your wildest dream You think of again On a bad night After a bad fight

(Wonwoo’s interview with you)

Wonwoo: Who wrote the last song on the album: ‘Not Yours’?

You: I did.

Wonwoo: When?

You: Right after the album cover shoot. 

Wonwoo: What inspired it?

You: Well

You: I think that song had been singing in my heart for a while before I finally wrote it. 

—

(Wonwoo’s interview with Seungcheol)

Wonwoo: ‘Not Yours’ is such a heart-breaking song. What was it like recording it?

Seungcheol: Believe it or not, it was one of the easiest. 

(Wonwoo’s interview with Jeonghan)

Wonwoo: It’s nice to finally meet you.

Jeonghan: You too. If I can be honest, I really didn’t expect to be called about this piece.

Wonwoo: Oh

Wonwoo: I just like to get all sides of it. 

Jeonghan: Okay.

Wonwoo: I wanted to talk to you about the album photo shoot. 

Jeonghan: Oh yeah of course.

Wonwoo: From my understanding, the picture that was chosen as the cover, was one that you took. Is that correct?

Jeonghan: Yeah. I took it during one of the breaks. 

Jeonghan: I mean props to the photography team that was hired, I’m sure they’re amazing, but it wasn’t hard to tell that they were really struggling to photograph the band. 

Jeonghan: I just happened to have my camera on me, and you know, I had photographed the band in the past, so I just kind of knew what to look for. And when I saw Seungcheol and them go off to the side to talk, my eyes just happened to follow them. And

Jeonghan: Well, I don’t know what they were talking about, but you can see it in the photo, you know? 

Jeonghan: They’re looking at each other like it’s a very important conversion. And well, let’s just say that I know Seungcheol very well, and he’s never been a good actor, so it must have been. And, and the sky is so blue and so clear behind them which, I don’t know, to me sort of represents how there’s nothing coming between them in this moment either. There’s nothing that isn’t being said.

Jeonghan: 

Jeonghan: When I saw that, I just knew I had to capture it.

Jeonghan:

Jeonghan: I had no idea that Jihoon would want to use it for the album cover. I wasn’t thinking like that. 

Wonwoo: Was it weird at all?

Jeonghan: How so?

Wonwoo: To capture a picture of your finance and his bandmate looking at each other like that?

(Wonwoo’s interview with Jihoon)

Wonwoo: So does the album have a name?

Jihoon: Yeah. Of course.

Jihoon: Aurora

Wonwoo: Can you tell me anything about the band maybe going on tour?

Jihoon: Well, can’t say anything for sure yet, but there’s definitely been some talk from the label about it.

Wonwoo: If there were to be a tour, are you able to give us a sneak peek as to what it’ll be like?

Jihoon: Hmm

Jihoon: Did you happen to see the band play the festival in the desert?

Wonwoo: No, I did not.

Jihoon: Well, I’ll tell you what anyone who saw that show would say.

Wonwoo: Which is?

Jihoon: Get ready for the best fucking show of your life. 

(Wonwoo’s interview with you)

Wonwoo: I heard most of the band is heading back to their hometown for the break. 

You: Yeah, they are.

Wonwoo: Do you plan on joining them?

You: No.

You: I don’t think I will.

Wonwoo: What do you plan to do during your time off?

You: Well, I bought a one way ticket to Italy, so that should start something. Maybe I’ll go to Nepal or Japan or Brazil after that. I haven’t really decided yet. 

Wonwoo: So, traveling.

You: Yeah, I guess. 

You: Can you believe that the festival show we did is the farthest I’ve ever been from home?

You: It’s time I saw a little more of the world.

Wonwoo: The fans are really looking forward to a tour. Can you speak to when you will be coming back?

You:

You: Who’s to say I will?

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Flufftober Day 4 | Perfect coincidence

Pairing | Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Civilian!Female!Reader

Word count | 1.4K

Summary | You find yourself in the middle of a rainstorm and seek refuge in a warm-looking coffee shop. When there's only one table left, you share it with a handsome stranger who introduces himself as Bucky Barnes and his fluffy white cat, Alpine. What started as one of the worst days quickly turned into one of the best.

Warning(s) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. The reader gets caught in the rain, use of a nickname (doll), Alpine is smuggled into the coffee shop, and the fluff is amped up to 11 on this one, like tooth-rotting fluff.

Prompt(s) | Alt 10. Have your characters share the last table at a café.

A/n | This one shot is written for day 4 of @flufftober 2023. This idea immediately came to mind when I saw this prompt, and I couldn't wait to start this one! I hope you will all enjoy it as much as I did when writing it 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 🧡

Divider is made by @cafekitsune | 18+ banner is made by yours truly

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Flufftober Masterlist

It is a rainy day in the middle of October, and you accidentally forgot your umbrella at home. This morning, the weather was wonderful; the sun even appeared, but you should have known it would be too good to be true.

So here you are, in a thin outfit, soaked through your jacket, hair completely drenched, and cold beyond belief. It's good that you've found a coffee shop that looks warm and inviting so you can warm up a little bit.

As soon as you've crossed the street and made your way to the door of the coffee shop, you see that it is almost full, but you head in regardless. If you stay outside any longer, you're afraid the cold might permanently seep into your bones.

Your fingers are entirely frozen by now, and all feeling left them a while ago, so opening the door was a little more complicated than usual, but you managed regardless.

When the door swings open, you're greeted by lots of chatter and laughter, the coffee machines making all kinds of noises, the smell of freshly baked pastries, and some soft music in the background. You let the door fall shut behind you, and the atmosphere wraps itself around you like a warm blanket as if you're coming home.

You look around you and take in all the different kinds of people in the coffee shop. Some are working on their laptops, headphones on and in their own world, others are having lively conversations, and then a few are reading their book.

After a few short moments, you walk towards the small line of people at the counter, standing behind the last person and trying to decide what you'll have as you look up at the menu.

''What can I get for you today?'' the lady behind the counter asks, and you give her your order for a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows and a cinnamon roll before she takes your name and writes it on the cup.

''It'll be right with you,'' she says after you've gotten your change from her, and you move to the part of the counter where you can pick up your drink. You grab your phone out of your bag quickly to see what time it is, and much to your surprise, it's only 1 PM.

When your name is called, you return your phone and thank the lady before picking up your cup of hot chocolate and warm cinnamon roll. You spot a table, and when you're walking over, you arrive at the same time as someone else.

''Shall we share this table, Doll? It appears to be the only one left,'' the man said in a deep voice, and hearing it immediately warms you from the inside out. And the nickname, that is truly what got you.

''Yeah, I'd love to,'' you say as you move towards the wooden chair, not wanting to ruin the beautiful couch with your wet clothing. You place your cup and pastry on the table before taking off your bag and jacket, hanging them over the back, and sitting down.

''I'm sorry, I completely forgot to introduce myself; how rude of me,'' the man says, extending a gloved hand, but you don't question it for even a second. Especially since you already know who the man across from you is.

''Sergeant James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky. And this girl-'' he fishes a cat out of the inner pocket after shaking your hand and puts her on the table ''-is Alpine!''

After you tell him your name, you focus on Alpine for a bit, and you tell Bucky about how you used to have a cat that looked just like her when you were growing up.

''I know it's silly, but I really wanted to name her Snowball, so I did. But Alpine is a gorgeous name! May I ask where you got her?'' you ask, and Alpine happily bumps her head against your hand, letting you know she wants more attention.

''I was looking for a cat to adopt in a local shelter because a friend told me how cats work well with people with PTSD. So I went there, and I saw little miss Alpine over here, and it was love at first sight,'' he says, a big smile on his face as he talks about her.

She jumps into your lap, although you're clothes are still soaked, and makes a little cat donut while spinning, slowly falling asleep and taking a pleasant and comfortable nap there.

''So, how did you end up on this side of town? I don't think I've ever seen you around here before,'' he says as he sips his coffee, and you do the same with your hot chocolate.

''You got a little…'' he says as he takes his glove off his right hand and reaches over to you. When his flesh fingers touch your lip, wiping the hot chocolate away as he stares into your eyes, the moment feels much more intimate than it probably should.

''I-I'm sorry,'' he says before quickly pulling his hand back, a red color sporting his cheeks, and he looks at his coffee cup, suddenly unsure what to do with himself.

''It's okay, I don't mind,'' you say in a soft but reassuring voice, and a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he looks up at you through his lashes.

''As I was going to say, I recently moved to this side of town. I used to live in New Jersey, but I figured it was time for a change, and this looked like a beautiful neighborhood. It would appear I was right,'' you say as you look at him and extend your hand, needing to feel his warm skin around your cold hand.

The afternoon was spent chatting and getting to know each other better until it was finally time to go home because the coffee shop was closing for the day. You completely forgot to eat your cinnamon roll.

''Excuse me, could you maybe wrap this up for me to go?'' you ask the lady behind the counter, and she happily does as Bucky puts Alpine back into his inner pocket.

''C'mon, let us walk you home. We can use my umbrella,'' he says as he shows you a dark blue umbrella, and you gladly accept before walking out the door. He immediately opens it, and you hook your arm through his extended one, letting your other hand rest on his bicep as you walk through the rain.

''I feel so stupid for leaving mine at home,'' you say as you rest your head against Bucky's shoulder. ''But if I did bring it, I never would have met you, so I guess that's the good thing about me forgetting it,'' you chuckle, and Bucky couldn't agree more.

When you arrive at your apartment complex, he walks you to your front door, not wanting to say goodbye yet. He's still trying to find the courage to ask you out on an actual date, and he realizes time is running out now.

He clears his throat when you let go of his arm to search for your keys.

''Doll? Would you maybe- if you want to-, you can say no if you want-'' he stumbles over his words, but you look up at him expectantly. He rubs the back of his neck as he composes himself.

''Would you want to go out for dinner? I had a lot of fun this afternoon, and I'd love to get to know you better,'' he asks, and the smile on your face melts every worry away.

''I would love to; let me give you my number,'' you say. He unlocks his phone so you can put it in there. When you hand it back, you stand on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek softly as a goodbye.

''Goodbye, Bucky. It was great to meet you,'' you say as you unlock your door and walk in, and he stands there like a teenage boy with a crush. The smile on his face is not leaving, even when he's back at the Compound and he runs into Steve.

''Where have you been all afternoon? It's not like you to be gone for so long,'' his best friend asks, and that's when Bucky tells him about his afternoon.

The beautiful woman he met at the coffee shop, the way Alpine cuddled into her lap, and how the conversation never seemed dull, and you two still weren't done talking by the time you were dropped off at home.

''And the best of all is that I'll be seeing her again soon,'' Bucky says, that same big smile appearing on his face, and Steve's happy for him. After everything that's happened, you were the best thing that ever could have happened.

[lottiecrabie]

writing prompt: phone sex with matty

keeping my soft smut streak<3

it's hard when your boyfriend leaves for worldwide tours

warnings: 18+, phone sex, maybe the slightest dom vibe if you squint

1327 words

It’s fifteen minutes past four AM in Manchester. You’re blurrily awake, feeling around for your ringing phone amidst the sheets. An ocean of white seems to be swallowing it up; the sound chases you, but you just narrowly find it before it dies.

“Hey,” you say, voice croaking from the leftover fingers of Morpheus.

“Hey, babe.” Matty’s voice is loose and cheerful as he tends to get after a show. Amped up on the crowd and the wine, his diction gets sloppier, overtaken by sheer joy. Still, he’s careful to not talk too loudly, a small mercy for your waking up ears. “Were you sleeping?”

“No,” you lie, sitting up. Matty chuckles on the other line. “How was the show?”

“God, it was fucking great.” Some intelligible cheers resonate. Matty screams something along the lines of dickhead, then a door closes. The phone is suddenly quiet, like you stepped through your own cottoned cocoon. “Sorry about that. The boys are doing shots.”

“And you’re not joining them?”

“Nah. Wanna talk to you.”

You grin, acting coy. “Little old me?”

“I know. I was surprised, too.”

You laugh openly, throwing your head back. You wish he could see you: he always says it’s his favorite sight. “Shut up.” You shake your head, chuckle still lingering in your voice, melting it to some lovesick tone.

“You always give me these openings when I’m not around to take them.”

The air shifts around you. It grows thick and heavy like his voice, some low rumble that hints at all the dirty thoughts in your head. You graze a hand over your knee, blushing for no one.

“What openings?”

“Don’t act shy.”

You chuckle, raising your hand over your thigh, biting your cheek. “You’re being entirely inappropriate.” Some faint uh-huh comes from his side. It strikes through your abdomen with deadly accuracy. Your walls clench around nothing. “Why don’t you tell me what I’m doing?”

“Yeah?” Matty says cheekily and you can picture the shit-eating grin on his face. “Good girl like you needs help figuring it out?”

You pout, fluttering your eyelashes. He’s not around to see it, but the fake innocence rings in your voice still. “You’re making it sound dirty, Healy.”

“I am, aren’t I?” He sounds smug. “You’re teasing me.”

“Me?” You mean it as a gasp, but it comes out with pride, like accepting some humble compliment.

Matty laughs, seeing right through you. “You little shit.”

Your finger rakes over your thigh, some muted itch making you shiver. You smirk to yourself. “What are you gonna do about it?”

A groan dies in his throat. He’s out of breath when he finally says, “Kiss you.” Lips locking together, a greedy hand in the mess of your hair, greeting tongues. Your mouth burns with the idea of it. 

You feel yourself getting wetter. It’s been too long without him. “That’s it?” You still tease, because you like being difficult. “You talk a big game for nothing.”

“Hey, let me take my time. I like to seduce a woman.”

You smirk to yourself. You put the phone on speaker mode, letting it lay against your racing heart. Your tickling hand finally travels up to your pussy, grazing your clit. You moan obnoxiously, just to make sure he hears. A finger dips into your entrance and an unmistakable wet sound resonates. 

Matty chokes. “Fuck, babe.” 

Out of breath, you say, “I’m feeling seduced.”

Ruffling jeans on the phone. “God.”

You bite your lip to hide a proud grin, more a reflex than a choice. He’s not here to see all the pathetic reactions he brings out of you anyway. 

Still clearly pumping a finger into yourself, rolling your eyes as pleasure builds in your belly, you gasp, “Should I just hang up? I think I’d get there faster on my own.”

“Don’t you dare.” It practically rips out of his throat. 

You hear Matty spit, then a muffled cry. You throb around your finger, dipping another one in. “Are you touching yourself?”

“Shit, yeah.” 

You can imagine it clearly. The way he grabs his base, teases a thumb over his tip, runs a callused hand over his cock. You see his face break with his moans, forehead wrinkling with building ecstasy. It’s so clear in your mind, it’s almost real. 

A whine leaves your lips. You want it to be real.  “I wanna fuck you.” You’re too gone in the mists of bliss to care how pathetic you sound. Your free hand sneaks under your shirt, grabbing one of your tits, pinching meanly like he would do. 

“Me, too, babe.” Skin slapping. He’s clearly biting his lips from the stifled way his groans come out. The boys are probably still getting drunk right outside the room he’s in. Your thighs clench around your working fingers just at the idea. “When I come home, I’m spending the day on my knees.” 

You laugh, another wave of euphoria hitting you at the image of his head between your thighs, lapping at you. Fuck, you need his tongue. “Yeah?” 

“Gonna worship you,” Matty says. Hands digging into your hips, soft tongue licking at you hungrily, lazy thumb circling your clit. “I’ll have you coming until you’re begging me off. But I won’t stop, won’t I, love? Because you can handle it?” 

You whimper, nodding to no one. “I can handle it.” 

“And I’ll have you on the bed. In the shower. On the fucking wall. I’ll fuck you on the kitchen table and then invite my friends over, just because I’ll know what we did where they’re fucking eating.” 

You frantically nod some more, curling your fingers at a feverish pace. It never reaches the spot Matty does, capable of sending you floating, and you need three just to make up for his width. “My fingers don’t fit like yours,” you moan. 

“It’s okay, babe. I’ll take care of you. Are you close?” Matty sounds unhinged. He pants, his strokes sounding quicker and quicker. 

“Yeah.” You bite your lip, twisting your nipple, reveling in the thunderous wave of ecstasy. “Yeah, I’m really fucking close.”

“Are you gonna come for me?”

“Yes,” you say, just a little out of reach. You press at your clit, uncaring of the strings of moans gracelessly leaving your lips. “Yes, please.” 

“Come for me. I want to fucking hear you.” 

The tension finally breaks loose. You scream, imagining the dark look on his face, swollen lips moaning for you. Rolls of ecstasy hit your body, arching your back, rolling your head. On the phone, Matty cries out, a string of curses soon following. You continue swiping sloppily at yourself until it’s too much. 

The world settles down like snow. You grin, relaxed and easy. You flutter your eyes open, feeling strangely in slowmotion. 

“Fucking hell,” Matty says on the line, still breathing heavily. You giggle. “I love you.” 

“That’s the sex talking.” 

“I don’t think you can say that when there was no sex.” 

You roll to your stomach, eyelids growing heavy. “You didn’t tell me about the show.” 

Matty laughs easily, shifting. “Go to bed, babe.”

You shake your head stubbornly. “No, no. I’m not tired.” 

“It’s like 5AM.” 

“I don’t want to miss you.” You can’t miss him if he’s right there, on the phone, almost close enough to be real. If not all of him, at least his voice. 

Matty sighs. “I miss you, too. Tour will be over in no time, I swear.” 

You smile sadly, digging your chin in the crook of your elbow. The US leg really just started, but you like that he lies to you. Makes the ache sweeter. “Yeah. Then you can come home and fuck me properly.” 

You can hear his cheeky grin. “Promise, love. You won’t walk for days.” 

Your belly heats up nicely, but you really are exhausted. You yawn, nestling your head in your arms. “Sing me to sleep?” 

So tender you could choke on the sugar, “Alright.”

[attapullman]

Last time it was 8 am thots, now get ready for 2 am thots.

We are flipping the tables, so I wish you would write a fic where... Reader walks in on neighbor!Bob getting himself off and moaning her name 😏

The morning thots always take me to horny jail. And I would like to live here permanently. 18+ go away minors

Because while neighbor!Bob takes his time watching before joining in, Reader has ZERO self control when it comes to the sweet neighbor man stroking that perfect cock.

You have dinner plans that night - he's promised he's going to make his mom's lasagna - and you're not due over for another hour and a half. just enough time for him to finish prepping the ingredients and get himself off once. It's been a week since he's had you and he needs to prepare himself if he's going to have you all the ways he wants.

However...you've finished work and showered, and there isn't much to do at home. You would rather sit in Bob's breakfast nook and talk about your weeks than be in your lonely kitchen. So you sneak over in your usual fashion, darting between your yards and climbing up the steps to his kitchen door. It's unlocked like it has been for months now, an unspoken symbol that you're welcome over whenever you'd like.

He's not in the kitchen, and the living room is dark. Maybe he's showering? You start down the hallway, admiring the knick knacks he's acquired over the years. And then you hear it.

It's downright illegal the way he's moaning your name, unmuffled as he pants into the open air. Eyes squeezed shut as he hastily jerks his cock, practically blurring with how fast he's trying to cum. A bead of sweat along his temple. Chest red and heaving. Looks more destroyed than when he's been in drills all day, amped up and rushing for relief.

He's delicious. And while you want to photograph every inch of him, commit it to memory...it's been a week.

Bob's so close to cumming, the memory of you warming his cock last weekend while you jointly finished the sudoku spurring him on. He's almost there...almost...

His eyes wrench open to you replacing his fist with yours, devilish smile upon your lips. Nearly distracting him from how you've stripped yourself bare, knees on either side of his hips, fingers aching to hold him.

"Mind if I hop on?"

Oh Helena, YOUR THOTS ARE THE BEST! EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU HELENA!

[jaggedhorseteeth]

Better in the Morning // Ch. 1

MASTERLIST

Jake x original female character

When I originally started writing this, it was going to be a short story that was never going to see the light of day. But eleven chapters later, someone talked me into posting it. There probably won't be much of a posting "schedule," and this is a very rough draft, so go easy on me. 😅 (Also, I'm not married to the title so that may be subject to change later on down the road.)

word count: 3500+

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Language, very vague mentions of sex, mentions of death of a parent, mentions of not having a great relationship with the other, and Jake being a cocky bastard

“Okay, so tomorrow I’ll need you to grab the parts for the amp and pick up the Gretsch.”

“Sounds good, boss man.” I stood leaning against the counter while Richie scribbled down some notes.

He’d been lucky enough to score this nice little space in Nashville to start up a new guitar shop. Another local shop had recently shut down, so it was a great opportunity. It took a few months to prepare everything, but we finally opened a few days ago, and everything was running smoothly. My favorite part was getting to help repair and refurbish antique guitars that had been through the ringer. Hence the Gretsch. That was going to be our first project at the new place.

I’d been flitting around, helping customers, straightening shelves, and whatever else needed doing. The bell at the front door dinged, indicating someone had entered. I glanced up to see Richie greeting the man, who nodded at him and walked over to the wall of electric guitars. He looked like a musician. He carried himself like a cocky, broody, rockstar who couldn’t even be bothered to take his sunglasses off inside. His shirt wasn’t even buttoned all the way up. I rolled my eyes before going back to my work.

I was moving one of the acoustic guitars over to a small area we had set up with a couple of wooden stools, so it would be available if someone wanted to test it out. I strummed a chord or two to make sure it was in tune and gently placed it on the stand.

“You play?”

I turned to face the owner of the voice, not surprised at all to see Mr. Broody. “I dabble. And you? Looking for anything in particular?”

“Well, I was just browsing. Checking out the new digs, you know?” He took the silly round frame sunglasses off, allowing me to get a better look at his face. “But I ended up finding something I do want.” He gave a cocky half smile, and I saw his eyes check me out from head to toe.

Oh, we’re going to play that game. He wasn’t bad looking by any means. His dark shoulder length hair hung loose, framing his features. The navy-blue button up he wore looked really good on him, undone at the top to show off a few silver chains that hung around his neck. His chocolate brown eyes looked mischievous, in a way that just screamed trouble. My favorite. I’d play along, have a little fun with him.

“Is that so? And what makes you think you can handle me?” I cocked my head and crossed my arms, smiling playfully at him.

“What makes you think I can’t?” He took a step closer to me.

“You’re being awfully cocky for someone who doesn’t even know my name yet.”

Another step. “Would you even tell me if I asked?”

“I don’t know that you’ve earned it yet.”

He took another step. I could smell his cologne, something woodsy with a hint of sweet rum. “How about a fair trade?”

“Oh, and what did you have in mind?”

The last step brought him so close we were practically touching. At least he was gentleman enough to keep his hands to himself. The banter was clearly good-natured and flirtatious. I didn’t feel threatened or creeped out, and to be honest, he was piquing my interest. “You tell me your name; I’ll take you out. Coffee or lunch, your call.”

I noticed Richie starting to walk over, giving me a concerned look. I smiled and waved him off, letting him know I was doing just fine. The handsome, albeit slightly annoying man was watching me, patiently awaiting a response. I reached out to touch the silver coin pendant he wore, inspecting it. “Recovered from the shipwreck of Nuestra Señora de Atocha.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m impressed.”

I dropped the coin, letting it fall back against his chest. “Alright, mystery man. I’ll take you up on coffee. Friday. Gives you a few days to really think about what you’re getting yourself into, in case you change your mind.”

“Not a chance. But you have to hold up your end of the bargain.”

I raised my chin defiantly and looked straight into his eyes before responding. “Kya. And you already know where to find me, so I’ll see you on Friday. Better make it worth my while.”

“Oh, I intend to, Kya.” He said my name like he was savoring it, turning it over on his tongue as if it were a wine tasting. I wonder if he knows how to put that tongue to good use.

“Do I get to know your name, or is that a secret?”

He smiled and winked before stepping away, creating some distance between us and the obvious sexual tension that was starting to develop. “Jake.”

“Jake. I’ll see you soon, then. If you don’t chicken out, anyways.”

He scoffed a laugh, shaking his head before turning to leave. I called his name, making him turn to look at me one more time. “Don’t disappoint me.”

“I would never.” He shot me another one of those cocky smiles before putting his sunglasses back on and leaving the store. It was hard not to notice the dirty look Richie had plastered on his face as Jake made his departure.

“Now what did he ever do to you?” I laughed, walking back to Richie, and leaning my elbows on the counter.

Richie shook his head. “I don’t trust rockstars. You gotta be careful around guys like that, kid.”

“You think he’s an actual rockstar?” I snorted, brushing off his comment.

He raised an eyebrow at me. “I don’t think. Hang on.” He walked over to a shelf of vinyl records, took a moment to find what he was looking for, and brought it back to the counter. ‘Greta Van Fleet.’ Anthem of the Peaceful Army. He pulled out the insert and pointed to the spot in the corner with the list of the band members and what they played. Right there, clear as day, was ‘Jacob Kiszka – lead guitar.’ It wasn’t lost on me that the lead vocalist and bassist also shared the same last name.

“You’re kidding.” I pulled my phone out, opened Instagram, and typed in the band name, scrolling through the photos. I clicked on a few group pictures, just to confirm what I was seeing. Yep, definitely him.

“Well shit, I guess I’ve got a coffee date with Jacob fucking Kiszka.”

~

I think I had recognized the name ‘Greta Van Fleet’ and maybe had heard a few songs here and there, but I couldn’t name any. I knew next to nothing about them or their music. But as far as Jake was concerned, we had our little game we were playing, and I wasn’t interested in letting him win it just yet. By the time Friday rolled around, I vowed to be prepared for whatever he would throw my way.

I started with their first release; a double EP titled From the Fires. I pressed play and kept it going for my drive across town. I found myself really enjoying it. The singer had an exceptionally interesting voice, and the guitar riffs were so smooth and pure. Jake, you might actually know a thing or two about playing guitar.

I picked up the parts Richie needed for the amp repair and plugged in the address for my next errand. After listening to From the Fires in its entirety, I switched to their first full length album, Anthem of the Peaceful Army, catching myself tapping fingers on the steering wheel in tune to the beat.

I had not met the man I was picking up the Gretsch from, but Richie assured me he was a good guy and an easy customer. I knocked on the door to the house and was greeted by an elderly man. “Hi, I’m Kya. Richie sent me to pick up a guitar?”

“Oh, yes, of course! Come in, come in. I’m Gary.” He moved slowly a little hunched over as he led me into the living room and pointed to a worn-out guitar case on the floor. “Hope you’ll forgive me, sweetheart, it ain’t easy for me to lift that anymore.”

“Not a problem at all. May I?” He gave me the go-ahead and I squatted down to examine the case. It was well worn and damaged on the edges, but it was still functionable. It had a thick layer of dust over the surface, only disturbed by recent finger marks, presumably from it being moved to the living room. I popped the locks and opened it, revealing the absolute treasure inside. This guitar had definitely been through the ringer. The green paint on the body was faded and chipped, and the wood was cracked in a few spots. Pretty much all the hardware would need to be replaced, but it had decent bones. It would be a lot of work, but it would be well worth it, and I was excited for the project.

“Can’t help but feel guilty for letting it fall into disrepair like that.” I turned to meet the man’s sad eyes. I bet he had his fair share of stories to tell.

I smiled sweetly at him, trying to ease whatever sadness he was feeling. “I’ve seen much worse. And I’m confident we can get her looking and playing just like new.” I shut the case and lifted it by the handle, sending him another reassuring glance. “I’ll take care of her, I promise.”

“I know you will. Thank you, ma’am, and tell Richie I said thank you as well.”

“Will do.” He walked me back to the front door and I shook his hand before leaving, loading the case carefully into my back seat. I waved to the sweet old man watching me from his porch and hit the road, still jamming to Anthem of the Peaceful Army.

~

By the time Friday rolled around, I’d made sure to familiarize myself with the rest of the discography and did some social media investigating. I learned Jake’s twin brother, Josh, was the one with those wicked pipes, their brother Sam played bass and absolutely beautiful keyboards, and Daniel was the drum guru.

Sure, I was excited to continue our silly back and forth but did not want to let myself be disappointed if he didn’t show. Richie never missed an opportunity to remind me that it was a bad idea, to which I would roll my eyes and politely ask him to mind his own business. “I’m grown, and more than capable of taking care of myself,” I would remind him right back.

It was around 11 AM, the store had only been open for an hour and a half. The little bell above the door rang and in walked Mr. Broody Rockstar himself. He still wore his shirt only half buttoned, except today it was white. He wore the same round frame sunglasses, but he took them off when he entered, scanning the store, presumably for me. When his eyes found mine, I smirked at him but didn’t move. I’d make him come to me. He approached me, looking quite smug.

“You showed. I’m impressed. I thought you might disappoint.”

“And miss the chance to gaze upon the beautiful woman in front of me?” He sucked his teeth. “Never.”

How ostentatious. “Well, if I remember correctly, you owe me a coffee date. Are you going to hold up your end of the bargain?”

“I always do.”

“Then lead the way, Mr. Kiszka.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond to my use of his last name. I grabbed my jacket and purse, and as we walked past the front counter, he put his hand on my lower back. I didn’t mind. But then he leaned in and, not so quietly, said, “Maybe afterwards I can show you something much more enticing than coffee.”

The implication was clear, and I was not averse to the idea of seeing what he had to offer. However, he made his bold little statement within earshot of Richie, who promptly stepped out from behind the counter and blocked our path to the door. “Watch it, lover boy,” he all but growled.

I shot Richie the hardest glare I could muster. “Settle down, guard dog,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’ll be back later.” The look I gave him relayed the message clearly: ‘Move, and don’t fucking embarrass me.’

He stepped back out of the way but didn’t bother to hide the dirty look he shot Jake, who didn’t seem to falter once. I made a mental note to tear Richie a new one later and we exited the shop.

Jake let out a breath that I didn’t know he had been holding. “Some guard dog you’ve got there.”

I grinned sheepishly. “Sorry about him. He’s a little protective, is all.”

“I can tell. You’d think he was your dad or something.”

Laughing, I hooked my arm with his as we walked. “Richie practically raised me. And he’s harmless compared to my actual father, who you’ll consider yourself lucky to never meet.”

“Oh, we have daddy issues, huh?”

He was trying to push my buttons on purpose, but I found it sort of endearing, in an annoying kind of way, and one that probably made me a little bit of a masochist. “You know, Jacob, your flirting methods are very questionable.”

“At least you recognize the flirting. Besides, you haven’t had any problems dishing it right back, sweetheart.”

“I never do.”

“Spitfire.” His laugh is cute.

He led me to one of the local coffee shops. We ordered our drinks and found an empty table next to the window. Jake looked so proud of himself, like he had won some elusive prize by getting me to have coffee with him. It gave me a chance to really look at him through the sunlight that was beaming through the window. He was very attractive, and I was a sucker for how the sun reflected in his eyes. His smile was doing something for me, too.

“So, Kya, are you from Nashville?” He sipped his coffee but didn’t take his eyes off me.

“No, I’ve only been here for about eight months. I was born in Texas but mostly raised in West Virginia. And you, you’re from… Michigan?”

“Did your research, huh?”

“I like to be prepared.” I smirked at him.

“You know,” he leaned back and rested his arm on the back of the empty chair next to him. “I find it really unfair that you know so much about me and I know next to nothing about you.”

“You better start playing catch up, then.”

He took that as a challenge he had no intention of backing down from. He shot off some rapid-fire questions, mostly small talk like what kind of music I liked, hobbies, if I had any pets (I did not). I’d ask some of the same questions, little things that I didn’t know or just hadn’t read about yet. I knew about his brothers, his bandmates, but he shared he also had a younger sister back in Frankenmuth.

I answered everything he asked me honestly. After all, I didn’t have anything to hide, not really. But when he asked me about siblings, I decided I didn’t particularly want to discuss my brother. So, I told him I had none, which was only a partial lie. Luca died when we were kids, and I did not feel like ruining the mood with that story.

He leaned forward again, resting his forearms on the table. His sleeves were halfway rolled up, giving me a view of a singular, linear scar on his left forearm. “Middle school. I broke it wrestling.” He looked pensive for a moment, like he was considering what to say next. “Thought I wouldn’t be able to play guitar again, but it actually helped. After it healed, it was easier to reach a fret further than I could before.”

I always found stories like that interesting. I could play some basic chords and riffs, but I wouldn’t consider myself good at it by any means. It wasn’t an easy instrument to learn how to play, and certainly wasn’t easy to play as well as he did, so I admired his dedication and talent. “Well, thank God for broken bones. Seems less dramatic than selling your soul to the devil at a crossroads, anyways.”

He chucked, showing he did, in fact, get the Robert Johnson reference. “Yeah, I think you’d be correct. Might hurt less, though.” He was funny, I’ll give him that, and he was starting to grow on me a little.

“So, tell me more about this ‘rabid guard dog’ and ‘daddy issues’ situation. I’d like to know what I’m getting myself into.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Richie means well. It’s just that sometimes he still sees me as the scared little girl that got dropped off on his doorstep in the middle of the night, which I guess leads into the second part. My dad is… a complicated person whose life can be a literal dumpster fire. I haven’t seen him in a few years, but I’ll get a phone call occasionally, checking in.”

Jake thought about it for a second, cautiously moving to the next question. “Can I ask, is your mom in the picture?”

“No. She died when I was a baby.” Before he could get out an overdone condolence, I shook my head. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it. It was a long time ago and I didn’t know her.” It wasn’t just an empty reassurance. You can’t miss someone you didn’t even know. Most of what I knew about my mom came from Richie and other family friends, but even those bits of information were few and far between. My dad never wanted to talk about her, surely because it hurt him to do so. Probably the same reason he refused to talk about Luca.

I shifted the conversation to something lighter, asking him about touring and the process of creating albums. I could see him light up as he talked about it; this was his happy place.

I hadn’t been paying much attention to the time, but when I checked my phone, it was almost one in the afternoon, and I had six unread text messages from Richie. I cringed. “I should probably get back to the shop and at least pretend I work there.”

“He probably thinks I kidnapped you.”

“Nah, he can track the microchip implanted in my neck.” We both snickered at the joke as we stood to leave. We linked arms again and he offered to walk me back to the store. He decided not to come back inside, not wanting to push his luck with my personal security guard.

“Have I earned the privilege of obtaining your phone number, milady?” The faux English accent made me giggle, although it didn’t keep me from thinking he was a huge dork.

I held my hand out, gesturing for him to hand me his phone. I inputted my name and number before handing it back to him. He then grabbed my hand, making a theatrical bow before kissing the back of my hand, ever so delicately. “It’s been a pleasure. Until next time.”

I said goodbye and walked into the store, the bell indicating my presence. Richie glanced at me before returning his attention to the customer he was helping. I got started on some busy work until he rang up the man’s purchases and was free again.

“How was your date?” His arms were crossed, and he had a disapproving look on his face.

I beamed at him. “It was lovely, thank you for asking. And before you ask, yes, he was a perfect gentleman. And yes, I will be seeing him again.”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your dad ain’t gonna be happy when he finds out you’re dating a musician.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing he isn’t here,” I spit, not bothering to hide the bitterness in my voice. “He is the last person who gets to have a say in who I date.”

Richie could be overbearing at times, but he knew when to back off. He and my dad had been friends since they were young. When my dad got into some trouble, he dropped me and Luca off with Richie and disappeared for three years. I was seven. Luca was nine. When he showed back up in our lives, I didn’t want to forgive him. He abandoned us, and I could never shake the hurt that came with that. He would continue to make empty promises that he would stay, that he would make it up to us, that he would be present. He never kept those promises.

As I got older, the hurt turned into anger, which morphed into numbness, and then eventually became apathy. I stopped caring so much about what he thought about my life or what was going on in his a long time ago.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I couldn’t help but smile at the message.

Unknown number – 1:47 PM

Thanks for giving me a chance, spitfire.

Dinner soon?

[restinslices]

your hc about the linkuei brothers watching movies are very funny. What would it be like watching horror movies? Or movies about martial arts? I feel that bi-han would criticize absolutely every detail of every blow or movement. You can choose only one type of movie if you want, I understand that sometimes it is difficult to have inspiration to write them. You can ignore this too! Thank you 🫡

I’ve never really been into martial arts movies so I went with horror since I had more experience with those. Hope you enjoy!

I kinda feel like Bi-Han is one of those people that can’t enjoy horror movies because he thinks logically too much 

He can’t go dumb for the movie and that ruins it for him

Take Scream for example (fuck Scream 7. Don’t watch that shit when it comes out), he cannot understand how people are actually killed by Ghostface 

The mask should mess up their vision, plus the robe, plus it’s a regular person. Typically a teenager or young adult. How are they killing that many people? Their victims are pathetic

He immediately knows who Ghostface is, or who any secret killer is. He sees the signs right away and is like “how isn’t it obvious?”

A bummer the whole time 

You gotta shut off your brain and have a good time when watching a horror movie, Especially slashers.

Don’t get him started on the Evil Dead movies 

He’s so mad they read from the book. If he saw Evil Dead Rise, he’d walk out the room

”The book opened when Danny bled on it-“

We know Bi-Han. We’re angry too

A horror movie can fr ruin this mans day

He’d probably like psychological movies or those A24 movies 

“You don’t get it because you have to think”

Yes, he’s one of those 

Shut the fuck up. You are not better than anyone 

Not as much of a bummer

Do I think he loves horror movies? Eh. Probably not

Does he hate them? No

They’re just alright 

I’m getting monster flick vibes from him for some reason

Dracula, Frankenstein, The Thing, movies like those 

My proof? I have none. I can just see it in my head

Do zombies also count as monster flicks or are they their own genre? Either way, I can see him enjoying those too. I think he’d be into the classic monster flicks. The black and white ones 

In general he’s into the older horror movies from years ago. Yeah the effects are bad and maybe the acting is too, but they’re the originals and what got the genre rolling

I don’t think horror is his favorite genre so I don’t see him putting one on out of a “man I really wanna see a horror movie” need. More so out of boredom 

Is also bothered by dumb actions, but he understands that the movie gotta keep moving somehow 

The type that can watch a horror movie then go to sleep immediately after 

Doesn’t stay up to date with new horror movies coming out. He just hears about the popular ones that blow up

Like how Hereditary was everywhere 

He enjoys them. It’s just not his favorite and he doesn’t think about it

His favorite subgenres would be paranormal and home invasion 

Proof? None. I’m just thinking of subgenres and assigning them-

Paranormal movies are easy to enjoy. Any movie with a supernatural element is easy to enjoy to be honest. He can put it on and just relax

Home invasion movies are for days when he really wants to feel some fear in his bones 

The Strangers (original. Not the recent remake) is a good example 

Are the main characters idiots? Yes. Them feeling sad they accidentally killed a friend and leaving the secure room was dumb

But it’s still a movie that gets your blood pumping 

Home invasion movies are scary because home is supposed to be a safe space. These movies break that idea 

Horror movies are supposed to scare you, and he likes it

Hates unnecessary jumpscares 

It’s just super cheap 

Just make the movie good and give genuine scares 

When horror movies really amp up the sex factor, that also bothers him

He can handle sex, but he didn’t choose to watch an erotic movie. Put the scary shit

I’m projecting 

Hates super gorey and/or torture porn movies 

Sorry Jigsaw

[mischiefm4n4ged]

remus comes home from whever and catches sirius getting off and you take the story from there if your ok with it love your work

18+ MDNI

“Sirius?” Remus called out as he entered the flat, a bit later than he intended but it wasn’t his fault that he got held up at work. The flat was quiet and he wondered wether Sirius was actually home at all. He started going from room to room, looking for his boyfriend. A sudden but faint groaning made him stop in his spot, he perked his ears, one of his better senses.

“Mhmm” sirius whined from across the hall, followed by other peculiar sounds. Remus went red in the cheeks, was Sirius doing what he thought he was? Was he even alone? The thought of Sirius cheating made his blood boil and the impulsive action followed. He hurried to the door and opened it slowly without knocking.

Sirius didn’t seem to notice Remus in the doorway, too immersed in what he was doing. The room was dimly lit, Sirius under the silky covers, touching himself. He seemed to be more than enjoying himself as his head lolled back slightly and his eyes were shut in concentration. His face glistened slightly by the sweat and his breathing was loud as if had been doing that for a while. Remus felt how his pants tugged at his rapidly raising cock. His brain urged him to say something but he could only get himself to stand there and stare.

Sirius arched his upper body into every thrust, going faster with every second. “Moony, please” Sirius moaned louder than before. His body and the way his breathing was pretty much only moans and whimpers, told Remus that Sirius was just at the edge. He had to interfere before Sirius cums.

Remus closed the door slowly and took his blazer off then loosened his tie. “What’s my pup doing all on his own?” Remus asked only loud enough so that Sirius could hear him. Sirius stopped his movements and slowly opened his eyes. They widened as he saw Remus standing at the edge of the bed, sleeves rolled up and with a stern look on his face.

“Moony, I-“

“Shh, did I say you could stop?” Remus said, smirking at the flustered reaction from Sirius. ”keep going baby.”

Sirius bit his lip nervously and obeyed, his eyes landing on everything in the room except for his boyfriend. He opened his mouth to apologize, knowing Remus’ disapproval will soon be shown, one way or another. Before he could make a sound, Remus swung a knee over his body, straddling and capturing Sirius. He squeezed sirius face with his large hand, signaling to Sirius that Remus was not going to go easy on him. The fear in Sirius’ eyes only amped Remus up, he let go and chuckled at Sirius’ small gasp for air that ended in a desperate whine.

“What’s the matter baby? You chose to be bad, pup. Don’t give me that look…” Remus knew how his fake sympathy will push Sirius deeper into subspace. he had clearly succeeded from Sirius’ dazed eyes and how his hand completely stopped moving under the cover.

“What’s your excuse this time?” Remus asked, Sirius mumbled in response.

“hmm? Speak up” He enjoyed watching Sirius struggle beneath him.

“Couldn’t wait longer…” Sirius managed to get out.

“Aww you poor thing, so pathetic” Remus quickly removed the covers that separated them and spread Sirius’ legs apart….

———————————————————————————————-

Okay this is all I can write for now, i don’t know if it’s any good. Let me know in case you think i should post a full version on my AO3 ( linked in my bio).