#the way she helps him with his guitar strap

[dylaissante]

this clip of bob and joan gets me every time omfg

[ellieslob]

★ les

+tags: rockstar ellie, masc ellie, fem reader, modern relationship, femme fatale reader, top! sub ellie, dom ellie, power bottom reader, fem reader, inspired by Les, Childish Gambino.

+warnings: smut, nsfw, degradation kink, mentions of cheating, toxic? relationship, angry sex, all consensual, submission, strap on, cunnilingus, rough treatment, strap gets called dick or cock, it’s not cheating to them.

ways to help palestine!!!

REBLOG !

R★ you catched ellie’s eyes since the beginning of the song, since you started ‘dancing’ so close to a fuckin’ guy while looking straight into her eyes, all with a stupid smile, laughing at something that the brickfucker was whispering to your ear.

she didn’t notice the change of the song until the lights shifted to a red cherry, and the drums started to bring her to her senses, but could she really? not when you were practically fuckin’ some guy in front of her, in front of everyone.

before another song ended you practically ran with him to a room, to her room, you were such a dirty little bitch, and she knew how to treat bitches like you.

she slammed the door, throwing the guitar across the room, not caring about it the same way she didn’t care about leaving the concert or her band in the middle of a show. she couldn’t care less about all that smaller shit.

you were in the bed, legs spread out and stroking your tits as that fucker eat you up like a candy, that candy was hers, only fuckin’ hers.

she grabbed him aggressively by the shirt, ripping some of the fabric and making him get up so fast

“wait wh-

“get the fuck out of my room, dipfuck” she threw him out of the room, making sure he fell on his face and locked him out.

“hi baby, that was a good show, wasn’t too short?” you smiled at her while opening your legs, letting her watch how wet you were, you nipples and clit were abused and all reddish, shining because of the saliva of other man.

“you are a greedy whore, you know that?” as mad as she were at you, she still got down to your pussy with a smile on her face, bitting her lip when looking at you wet folds, trying not to yield to your power, trying to stay mad at you.

“ow don’t be jealous ellie, you know i can get bored at your long long shows, i need… entrainment”

“and you think those fuckers can give you what you want? your little cunt is mine, nobody can make you cum like i can doll”

“mm maybe not but they can keep me occupied while you are doing your job babe” you grabbed her hand while you were talking and started playing with your clit with it, she almost growled at the feeling, you were so hot and wet.

“i’m just a girl, i can get soo lonely watching you sing, touch that guitar with your strong hands that were made to fuck me, singing with that voice that was made to scream my name, i get horny just by watching you darling”

“so you just fuck some other dude?! doesn’t make fuckin’ sense darlin’ she smiled angry and held your hips strongly as she pulled down on you, making sure her mouth and your cunt were aligned.

“but if i play with them you get soo mad and you fuck me just the way i like” she was treating the way you wanted, like a fucking sex doll, so careless and rough.

“you’re such a greedy little whore babe, look at you we are fighting and you are clenching onto nothing” she was pissed, you knew it and you were drooling, you loved seeing her like that.

you both were so wet, you weren’t really fighting, never really were, you both knew how to play naughty and you both liked it so much, at the end of the day ellie knew you would never really cheat on her and you knew she couldn’t either, you trusted each other with passion but sometimes it was fun to make it spicier and y’all knew exactly how to push each other to that exquisite point of anger and love.

“ellie! yesyesyea” you always turned into a pretty mess whenever her tongue even barely touched your pussy, but she just was so eager, so desperate, she was eating you were the only food she’d had in months.

“oh look at my little hoe” she stopped linking just to give little slaps to your pussy, hitting on your clit as you.

“ell- please, please, i need it sososo bad” your whines high-pitched, you were practically screaming, but neither of you cared if someone heard you, actually ellie wanted you to go louder, maybe that way the fuckers that would go by the door would understand that you were hers only.

“what do you want, doll?” she murmured to you ear, so calmly and sweet, as if she weren’t rubbing your clit like a maniac.

“ellie i n-need you to- fuck!” you grabbed her jacket, shoving ellie to the bed hard enough until you could sit on her lap “you better fuck me, before i go out and ask someone else to do it baby”

she sneered as her gaze went dark, your hips were grabbed and pulled hard, you could feel ellie’s strap hitting your clit again, and she was controlling your hips to keep hitting it. “you really think another bitch could make you feel like this?” your moans just made her more greedy, she pulled your dress to your belly, taking a more elaborated look at the mess you pussy was, you kept grinding on her bult, so needy, so slutty, god she loved you “answer.” she stopped your hips, restraining you from getting to the edge of your climax.

“no! nobody, i want you, ‘need you ellie, please, i’ll be good, ‘promise” ellie smiled and pulled your little panties to the side, pulling her jeans a little and watched how her dark red plastic dick hit your clit directly when it was liberated.

“ask me to do it princess” she stimulated your nipples over the dress, stopping just for a little to expose your pretty tits, ready for her to make them bounce.

“ellie please, i’m begging you, please fuck me” your ego dissapeard with your clothes, all you cared about was to get that dick deep inside you, to get ellie to growl in your ear and fuck you silly.

when she noticed the little tears in your pretty eyes she knew you’ve had enough. you felt that big cock stretching your interior as ellie was rubbing your clit with her thumb. “god! yesyesye, t-thank you baby”

when foreplay ellie knew that you could be a little competitive and even fight with her for the dominance in the bed, but when she fucked you silly, you got so submissive it was sweet, your mean words turned into compliments or cute nicknames.

“that’s it my pretty girl, you like it?” it was kind of a rhetorical question, her dick was getting soaked in your juices, you were pounding yourself hard and from your pouty lips she could see a drool coming, god you were simply perfect.

“els i love it, god yesyes, i love you so much, fuck” ellie’s eyes softened and she just couldn’t stop smiling, she loved when your little act came down, when you were just her little angel, because she loved y’all little games and to play with each other but you were just so lovely like that.

“i love you too angel, come on, let’s make my little baby cum” she started hitting you on your sweet spot, your tits were bouncing directly on her face, she licked them when your nipple and her mouth hit. her hips were going way to fast and your clit was indirectly getting rubbed, it was driving you crazy

“ellie! i can’t, can’t any-ah give me, give” you weren’t making any sense at this point, your hips, and practicly your hole body, were moving like crazy, the drool droping fast, your nipples were so fucking erect, they felt like rocks against her warm mouth. you were going to cum, like hard, ellie could see it on your pretty face, feel it on your pounding, and definitely could hear it from your almost pornographic screams.

“cum on my dick beautiful, i got you, give me a little show” you started jumping hard on her strap, accidentally making the base of the plastic rub her clit too “fuck baby” you both started to make everything rougher and more intense, you felt the her dick going deeper and she could just get off with the show you were complete giving her, now the movement on her clit was too much.

“i’m yes, ellie, i love you! ahhh make me” her hips were knocking you out, your eyes were getting blurry, her sounds, her body, the look she was giving to you as she fucked you “yes! im cuming! fuck” ellie screamed with you when her strap slipped and hit you both just were you need it.

you both felt liquid coming out of your pussy, getting all over the strap and ellie’s clothes, you fell into her strong arms, both of you agitated and so fucking happy. she hugged you tight, she started to plant little kisses on your forehead and face.

“i love you baby” you smiled, she was such a softie, only you could see this part of her.

“i love you more” and only ellie could watch you all lovely and needy.

“ellie where the fuck are you?! we need you for the next song!” oh, maybe ellie had groupies bitches around her all the time, trying to fuck her but none of them were you, they could never get to her, not even fucking dressing up as you.

“they can fucking wait, i’m with my baby” you were everything the other needed, and even if you guys make it seemed like you were cool about it, but everybody knew you guys only belonged to each other, there was no place for anyone or anything else.

REBLOG !

[storiesabouteli]

BitterSweet // Elijah Hewson X Reader.

requests: (1) pre-relationship!eli with an incrediblyyy oblivious and socially awkward girl that kinda avoided him bc he’s very charismatic and lowkey a fuckboy so she think he’s fucking with her 😭😭 and eli is tryna pursue her and making it obvious that he takes her really seriously + (2) i was just wondering if you could write an imagine where eli helps the reader with her anxiety / through an anxiety attack or something similar?

words: 3,6K

You had enjoyed the band; they were instrumentally solid, and their lyrics were captivating. Live, they were even better. Eli, drenched to the point that his hair was soaked, let out soft groans in between sung syllables. This was just the soundcheck, and though only a few fans were around, he was performing like it was the real thing.

“Think we can tweak it a bit more?” His voice pulled you back, a warning that you might be getting in over your head. Eli chuckled, eyes trailing over you from top to bottom with a slight smirk. You couldn’t tell if it was meant to intimidate, mock, or if he just found you pathetic.

“Of course,” you replied quietly, certain no one else heard. The walk over felt longer in your mind as the guys watched, and you reached for the guitar in his hands. His swift movement to pull the strap off revealed hints of muscle, all the pale skin and the brief brush of his arm, warm and damp with sweat, replayed in your mind.

“Will you be around?” His voice was deeper, smoother than when he sang, with a lazy edge that was almost too pleasant to listen to. You were getting paid for this entire experience. “It’s my job.” He raised his brows, that same confident grin tugging at his lips. You avoided direct eye contact, though you glanced at him from the corners of your eyes. You didn’t mean to sound so blunt. You were only here to set up the studio for their album recording—a short period, and soon enough, you wouldn’t see them again.

You liked them well enough, but Eli had that vibe of the guy who would’ve bullied you in high school. You thought you were past that. “I’ll be around,” you said more clearly, finally looking him in the eyes. He nodded, making a mental note of your face up close and the matching brand of your boots and his. Your delicate hand passed the guitar back to him, and he couldn’t resist; it was too easy.

“Thanks, pet. I’ll be needing you again soon.” Your gaze dropped quickly as you backed away. Josh overheard and laughed, while Eli turned a bit pink—no regrets, though. You knew guys like him. You’d worked with bands before, and you understood better than to let whatever that was get to you.

…

You only spoke when asked, keeping things strictly professional. Eli was openly watching you, blatantly, if honest. The producers asked you questions now and then, and you always responded, they’d nod and follow your advice right after. Eli already thought you were smart, which only made him more intrigued. You were focused, a little shy, content within your own bubble; he admired that. It was obvious you were fine like that, and he was bothering you, but he didn’t know any other way to approach you.

“Hey, uh…” he started, sitting across from you at lunch. Once again, you were alone, not in a bad way, just enjoying your break. “What’re you listening to?” You lifted one side of your headphones to hear him. He cleared his throat, needing to repeat the question before you could answer.

“It’s not the first time you ignore me like that, and I like it.” You had to bite your lip but still laughed, as if he were too much to believe.

“The Strokes,” you showed him your phone, sipping your Coke. You fidgeted with the strap of your white tank top, which happened to be just like the one he often wore—and was wearing now. Along with the boots, it was oddly charming.

“I love The Strokes, real teenage throwback. What are your favorites?” He smiled wide, a grin he hadn’t seen all day, feeling confident this was going well.

“See? We have so much in common,” he teased, even though, so far, it was just the band and clothes.

“I’m not a big fan,” you shrugged, “I think his voice is lazy and dragged out, not really my style, though the instrumental’s good.” His heart sank a little. You spoke so casually, completely unaware of the impact. Eli hadn’t found flirting so difficult before.

“All right,” he glanced around, watching you look at your empty plate instead of his eyes. “Did you enjoy yesterday? What did you think of the show?”

You briefly thought of the awkward moment adjusting his guitar with everyone watching and how he’d been appearing more and more on your social media—not him directly, but clips of him with fans. You’d even gained some random followers from being spotted with the band. Your feed was flooded with videos of him leaning close to a girl at the edge of the stage, his damp curls brushing her face. She’d clung to him, and he clearly loved the attention, even stopping post-show to chat and connect with everyone. It was an energy you didn’t have. You’d once wanted to be more like him but were now comfortable being reserved. He was just naturally good at it.

Then there was one photo—a girl holding his face in an intimate kiss—that made you pause. A fan captioned that Eli would make a perfect boyfriend, even if they weren’t together anymore. She was gorgeous, and he looked like he belonged with her. Him talking to you felt off, like he was doing it out of pity; you weren’t even on the same page.

“I really enjoyed it. You guys are very good.” You were honest, forcing a smile and pushing away your thoughts to show you meant it.

Eli wasn’t convinced of that. “Good to know. We’re close enough now to hang out and maybe share a cigarette or two.” You looked up at him, his hazel eyes gleaming, his freckles glowing with a hint of blush. He had that high-school-crush look, but it still didn’t make sense.

“Can’t you talk like a normal person?” In your mind, the question hadn’t sounded so hard.

“I don’t know; this way I get to keep talking to you, don’t I?” He raised his brows as looked away, noticing the rest of the band watching from another table. He could be over there, so why wasn’t he?

He dropped a crumpled napkin on the table and waited, saying he’d be persistent later when you just nodded, unsure what to expect. You were about to speak, and it was warming to see him actually paying attention, his caramel eyes fixed on you, his whole body focused—until he nudged the table, spilling half of the Coke onto your white top.

“Sorry,” his accent thickened, sending a jolt of anxiety through you. People glanced over, and Eli began wiping the spot, his hand brushing over the stain.

“It’s not helping,” you said, touching his shoulder. “Eli, it’s fine; you’re just making it worse.” Your firm tone made him stop, realizing you were right.

You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling a little embarrassed, and he quickly noticed. Without hesitation, he shrugged off his black button-down and handed it over for you to wear. It wasn’t like you could refuse; you still had the whole afternoon before you could head home and change.

“Sorry, like, the flirting’s intentional, yeah, but I wouldn’t ever mean to harm you.”

You fiddled with his shirt, playing with the buttons. It smelled nice. He was now in a tank top like yours, and you remembered mentioning how you liked his arms before to the voices inside your head.

You cleared the table, picking up his napkin too, and he watched as you tossed his number into the trash on your way out.

“These things happen, I guess,” he chuckled, getting the closest he’d come to a genuine smile from you. The lighthearted way you suggested he’d done it on purpose; if he’d known that smile would come out, he certainly would have.

“Don’t worry. I’ll give it back,” you reassured him, grateful he wasn’t phased by the incident, though disappointed the conversation had ended, even if it wasn’t going great. At least it was something, and he got to appreciate how well his shirt suited you the rest of the day.

“It’s yours now, ma’am.”

…

At home, you made yourself dinner, still wearing his shirt. Sure, you told yourself it was just because of the chill, but deep down, you knew you wanted his scent—cologne mixed with a hint of cigarettes—lingering around you. Despite your reluctance, you eventually washed and dried it to return it properly. As you lay down in bed, a wave of mental relief washed over you, savoring the solitude after spending nearly the whole day with them fine-tuning songs. You picked up your phone, intending to scroll until you drifted off, when an Instagram notification popped up. Opening it, you saw he’d followed you and even sent a message. You set your phone aside for a moment, feeling like he was physically there; somehow, it made no difference.

When you accepted the request and opened the DM, the first thing you saw was a picture: a can of Diet Coke spilling onto his jeans, captioned with, “Thinking of you.” You couldn’t help but laugh softly to yourself. Eli probably thought it was funny—maybe it was, in a way. “You there? Am I getting ignored online too?” It made you realize you'd left the chat open, staring blankly. “Sorry, was busy,” you replied, though you instantly regretted it, realizing you could've been friendlier.

The typing dots popped up again, followed by, “With something more important than me?” You had to admit, his shameless confidence was quite charming. “Washing your shirt to return it. Hopefully, you won’t try that again xx,” you replied, heart-reacting to the Coke photo he’d sent. You didn’t want him to think you were actually ignoring him. After a pause, just as you were about to drift off, his final message came through. It was a voice note, low tone, a little sleepy, smooth.

“Uh, don’t see the problem, you know? Got to talk to you, and now you’ll return my shirt with your scent on it. You’re making this hard for me.” You could practically hear him smiling through the words, and once again, you found yourself grinning into your blankets.

…

You know those days that just aren't good? Your eyes ached, and there was a sharp pain in your head. Before entering the studio, some girls in Inhaler shirts were gathered near the entrance. They greeted you, and you nodded back, answering a few quick questions about them. You were polite, so one of them handed you her number, asking if you could give it to Eli. You took the slip of paper—it seemed routine, as if he received these often. She was beautiful. Your mind wandered to the number of girls chasing after him, not just here, but everywhere.

"Bobby’s sick; they’re not coming in today." One of the producers announced, and you felt a bit guilty for being relieved. Today, you didn't want to see anyone. It was hard to explain—if you knew how to avoid it, you would. Your chest felt like it was being crushed, heart racing, the familiar grip of anxiety that you just couldn’t make stop. As you thought about leaving, it hit you that you'd have to pass by those girls outside and take the bus home alone. You also worried about the delay in recordings, though you didn’t think Bobby should be there if he was unwell.

"Uh, you here by yourself? We won’t be recording today; thought someone might’ve told you. I just needed to grab my stuff." Eli shook his lighter, a rescuer in disguise. You held a cigarette between your fingers, hoping it would distract you, but you were restless, tapping your boot on the floor and fumbling in your pocket for your own lighter to no avail. He didn’t seem to notice anything wrong—at least he didn’t show it. His curls were perfectly in place, his jacket pulled over his arms, and that familiar, inviting smile. He’d clearly spent some time talking outside.

You opened your mouth, numb lips struggling to hide how off you felt, but no words came. He stepped close, his rings catching the light, and you focused on how nice his hand looked—a random, sudden thought that made you frown slightly. "Let me help," he whispered, his minty breath brushing your face. With the cigarette at your lips, you kept patting your jeans for the lighter. This was the closest you’d ever been to Eli; his fringe touched your forehead, and you realized how easily you could rest your head on his shoulder if you just leaned in. He sparked the lighter, holding it to your cigarette, his scent dizzying. His hand brushed your shoulder, and you wanted more. His calm eyes took in your vacant look as his fingers traced down your arm. For the first time, you couldn’t look at anything but his steady gaze. His freckles seemed to judge you silently, wondering why you had no control over yourself.

Seeing you weren’t taking a drag, he pulled the cigarette from your lips and placed it in his. "You can hear me, right?" His thumb brushed your palm, and you focused on your breathing as your eyes began to water. Eli was patient, his calm presence grounding you as you tried to steady yourself. Holding your hand, he gently pressed it to his chest so you could feel his heartbeat—thankfully steady. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "Feel that, love?" Closing your eyes, still feeling overwhelmed, you listened to his words. "Just breathe with me. You’re not alone; it’s all gonna be fine." His voice was a balm, and slowly, it started to sink in.

"You’re doing great; you wouldn’t even need me here," he said softly, matching your small laugh with his own. Your knees gave way slightly, and he held you by the waist, you were closer than ever before. "We can just sit here until you’re alright, yeah?" You nodded, sinking to the floor beside him, surrounded by a few guitars. You toyed with the rings on his fingers, finding it a welcome distraction, and he didn’t mind. Exhausted, as you always seemed to feel, Eli noticed your tired, red eyes and pulled you against him. It was only his shoulder, but you let yourself lean in. He took a drag from the cigarette, ready to toss it aside to focus on you, but you took it from him, repeating his movements.

"So, that’s our first kiss," he murmured, his usual flirty tone and smug grin returning. He seemed proud. "What?" you muttered, throat sore, but he didn’t need to hear it; he saw it on your lips. His free hand slid along your back, keeping you close, wanting to distract you from your own mind. He was good at it.

"The cigarette’s a swap of saliva, right? That counts." You wrinkled your nose, thinking how typical it was for him to come up with something like that. You put out the cigarette, tossing the butt away. Nicotine didn’t help much, but it was something—it was human nature, and you understood that. He noticed your shy smile, his effect on you having its way. "Not funny, Eli. I don’t get why you do this," you murmured, exhaustion pulling your eyes closed, though you stayed nestled against his soft shoulder. He swallowed, realizing you weren’t playing a game; you were just oblivious.

"One of the fans outside even gave me her number to give to you." Your tone was gentle, though the crumpled paper in your hand suggested you had some opinion on it. "You think I’m just messing around with you?" He took your face in his hand, studying your troubled eyes. "Why would I do that? I wouldn’t flirt with you if I didn’t mean it. I don’t know how to be more obvious."

The firmness in his voice cut through like the edge of a blade. Now it was his turn to look at you like a puzzle piece he couldn’t quite figure out. You stared at him like he’d just spoken in another language, your brow furrowing in confusion. “Aren’t you? I mean… isn’t this just, like, a thing you do? Flirt with people for fun?” Oddly enough he was still comfortable, Eli could be anything but scary.

He looked at you, serious, shaking his head slightly, as if letting you slip through his fingers was out of the question.

Eli raised an eyebrow, his grin slipping. “Is that what you think of me?”

You fidgeted with the sleeve of his jacket, avoiding his gaze. “I don’t know. I mean, you’re… you know…” Your voice dropped as if admitting the truth was embarrassing. “You’re you.”

He leaned closer, his voice low but insistent. “And what if ‘me’ wants you? What if I’m serious ‘bout this?”

Your eyes shot up to his, wide and startled, but you quickly looked away. “You’re not.”

“Yeah, I am,” Eli said, his gaze more serious now, one of those looks you couldn’t avoid. “I don’t just flirt with everyone. I don’t chase people. But I’m chasing you. What’s it gonna take for you to get that?”

His chest had been racing, but it started to calm as he took in your parted lips and the tears lingering in your eyes. He knew he was overwhelming you at a tough moment, and he hated that. His fingertips traced the bridge of your nose, lightly outlining your soft lines, enjoying how close you allowed him to be. “Are you okay, little one?” he asked softly, the edge of his jacket brushing your cheek to wipe away the last of your tears.

“Yeah,” you replied, the incident finally slipping away as you looked back at him, unable to focus on anything else. His careful eyes, the freckles scattered like constellations, each carrying its own name that you gave them—it was hard to think of anything but them. “God, I must’ve been such an idiot, right?”

He chuckled, his laugh warm and steady against you. Then, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, gentle but grounding, repeating it a few times as if to anchor you. You rested your head against his chest, nestling your face there, feeling the safety of his warmth. Your arms wrapped around his waist, a quiet comfort settling in.

“You weren’t an idiot. If anything, I’ve been bugging you since I got here.” You murmured a soft agreement, and he laughed again.

“But it worked, didn’t it? What do you say?”

You hid yourself a bit more in his embrace, feeling good, as he held you close, content to be your shield.

…

There was a comfortable weight draped over you, not unpleasant in the slightest. Your legs were tangled up with his, and you could feel his breath against your shoulder, soon followed by a series of light kisses and playful bites. You laughed into him, accepting your fate, and hugged him tighter. “Good morning,” he murmured, his voice sounding even better with that just-woke-up rasp. You glanced around, fully taking in the scene. His hand rested on your waist, his touch warm, and he was amazing at reading you, always respecting your pace.

“No one’s here yet. I’m not about to get you in trouble.” You smiled back at him, genuinely relieved.

“So you’re gonna hide us from them, huh?” he teased. “Hurts my feelings a little, y’know?” You looked down at your feet, ready to counter him, but before you could, his face was close again. He pressed a soft, wet kiss to your cheek. His messy curls tickled you, and you ended up laughing.

“When I make you nervous like this…” he traced his thumb along your hands, which were colder than your hot cheeks. “Is it a bad thing? Does it bother you?”

You met his gaze, smiling with your lip caught between your teeth. “I like how you talk to me, Eli. I just… don’t know how to deal with it right away.”

He nodded, his smile warm. “Good. I like that—it’s cute how you don’t know what to do with yourself.”

So effortlessly, he pulled the same reaction from you as before. The two of you kept talking, stealing these quiet moments before anyone arrived. Eli picked up on your hesitance with him, knowing you thought he was too charismatic for someone like you. But he also made it clear he didn’t mind your quieter world; he’d be just as happy living in it if you’d have him there.

Later that day, you ended up with his jacket draped over your shoulders and his hand resting gently on your back. You got to listen Bobby complimented you, saying you were better at adjusting his bass than any of the past techs they’d worked with. The way he talked about you was similar to how Eli did, which made you suspect Eli had already mentioned you to them before, even without knowing you well yet. None of them questioned your sudden closeness with Eli, not even when he introduced you like they didn’t all already know who you were. They were welcoming, you felt at ease.

 Eli’s hand slipped from your waist slowly, your smile softening as he looked at you. He was enjoying the way things were going. “I’m gonna grab us some food,” he said, tilting your chin up and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “And a Diet Coke too.”

 You grinned, your smile so wide it showed all your teeth. “Want me to come with you?” Before either of you could say more, Ryan appeared with a question about drum kits, and Eli could see in your eyes that you wanted to answer.

 “I’ll be right back, I promise, little one,” he chuckled, leaving you with them. Minutes later, Ryan mentioned, “It’s great that Eli managed to finally talk to you. We’ve been hoping to catch you since that project you worked on with Miles.”

 The statement was so casual that you raised your eyebrows, realizing it had been over two years since that project—quite some time if you thought about it. “You guys were looking for me?”

 Ryan nodded, as if it were obvious. “Actually, Elijah suggested it. He’s into the albums you worked on. It took a while—you’re not exactly easy to track down.” You laughed, looking at them, struck by how Eli had admired your work for much longer than you’d ever realized. You’d thought he was out of reach, yet he’d appreciated your work from the start.

 “Don’t break our boy’s heart, alright? We’d have to side with you then, but we’d rather not,” Josh added with a smirk, and you felt your face heat up just as Eli returned, grinning, with a Diet Coke and fries in hand.

 You figured maybe you could handle this, after all.

[crimsntwlip]

foolish. | theodore nott x fem!reader

pairing: ex!theodore x fem!reader

warnings: cursing, angst, mentions of alcohol, mentions of blood, bandleader!theo, ex!theo, jealous!theo, protective!theo, readers status not mentioned, reader is a ravenclaw, google translated italian 😭

summary: Theodore, your ex after a 16 month relationship, is performing at a slytherin party. you attend this party, wanting to go out and finally enjoy yourself, but end up cleaning his wounds

a/n: inspired by this tiktok :> posted: 11/25/23 | masterlist

in the aftermath of the recent events, you were left heartbroken. it had been a 16 months into what you had thought was a happy relationship, and theodore’s sudden decision to end things without any reasons only added to your confusion.

along with the overwhelming emotions of sadness and anger, you found yourself in bed for days on end, consumed by thoughts of what could have caused everything to unravel.

the fear of encountering him only kept you holed up in your dormitory, leading you to skip meals and isolate yourself from everyone. your friend’s patience had run out, despite their affection for you, they couldnt stand watching you suffer in bed because of the certain slytherin any longer.

there was a party coming up in slytherins common room, which you immediately turn down the invitation, knowing theodore would be there performing with his bandmates. “cmon (y/n)! it’ll be fun plus you can use this opportunity to get your mind off of him!” your friend begged in a heartfelt plea.

you only groan, annoyance rising up slowly as you had been denying their offer all day. “god! fine fine ill fucking go!” you blurt out. your friend squeal, wrapping their arms around you as they squeeze you. “okay enough.. i already said im going! dont make me regret it,” you uttered under your friend. they immediately pull away. “you better keep your word!” they declare.

as the days passed and the party approached, you found yourself slipping back into your old habits. the routine of attending classes and meals became second nature once again, but there was one thing you made a conscious effort to avoid - nott. despite your efforts, you couldn't help but notice your other house mates whispering about how he would often stare at you from across the room. however, you continue to pay no attention towards him.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

"are you sure i look hot?" (y/n) inquired, looking in the mirror at the fitted cute black dress that hugged her body. (y/n) made a point of going all out tonight, she didn't want to appear miserable in the eyes of others now that she wasn't with theodore anymore.

your friend assures you, "babes. you are the most hottest person i know." you laugh, finishing up by teasing the roots of your hair for more volume and fixing your makeup, adding a soft red lipstick.

as the two of you turn to face each other, your friend gives you a smug look while you roll your eyes playfully at them. without a word, you both intertwine arms and make your way out of the ravenclaw common room, heading towards the intimidating atmosphere of the slytherin domain.

as you step inside the slytherin common room, the scent of alcohol greets you, along with a racket of voices and music. the noise surrounds you, enveloping your senses as you navigate through the crowd.

theodore and his bandmates—draco, mattheo, blaise, and pansy—were standing right across the room. he was simply taking a break after spending the entire night playing. he eased his messy hair out of his way and looked around the room while removing his guitar strap and gently placing the instrument down. merely wishing that you had made it.

he struggled to understand his own reasoning for ending things with you. yet, he could not bring himself to confront the truth. despite this, he deeply longed for your presence and the intimate moments shared between you. he had noticed that you were avoiding him, which he totally understood. he thought that breaking up with you was a foolish and regretful decision, and he felt like a total asshole for doing so.

his eyes landed on you. his eyes widening a bit in surprised that you had actually came. he scanned your figure, noticing that you were wearing his favorite dress of yours. there was a reason it was his favorite, his eyes scanning your curves and slowly went up towards your face. observing your light makeup and the red lipstick you loved to wear, he thought about how beautiful you looked to tonight.

he longed to reach out to you, to hold you close and shield you from the unwanted attention of those around you. but he knew he couldn't, for you were no longer his, a fact that tore at his heart. he could only clench his jaw in frustration and avert his gaze, unable to do anything.

upon your arrival at the event, you were dismayed to discover that your friend had already been discreetly ushered away from your side. a sense of isolation and regret washed over you as you watched her being dragged away by friends from different houses. with a heavy sigh, you made your way to the designated drink area, already questioning your decision of attending.

after grabbing a red, empty cup and filling it with spiked punch, you turn around and stand there looking around the room and taking in the view while sipping from your cup.

“hey hottie.” startled by an unfamiliar voice, you turn to your right and come face to face with cormac mclaggen - the persistent gryffindor who had been trying to woo you despite your relationship. his confident smirk is met with your nonchalant demeanor “heard you’re finally a free woman.” you roll your eyes, unimpressed, “piss off.” you state calmly before taking another sip and avert your gaze.

when theodore's eyes found you again, he saw mclaggen standing beside you. theodore couldn't help but feel uneasy as his gaze suddenly focused on the two of you. he knew too well that mclaggen had an unhealthy obsession with you and a reputation for being possessive. his eyebrows furrowed in slow anger, he watched the scene unfold with his jaw tightening involuntarily. theodore could sense that mclaggen had gone too far, and his tolerance was beginning to wear thin.

“oh come on sweetheart," he pleaded desperately, his hands gripping your waist tightly in a futile attempt to draw you closer to him. but you pushed him away, determined to break free from his grasp.

"fucking let go of me," you demanded, feeling disgusted by his touch. ignoring your command, he continued to hold onto you with a stubborn determination. "i don't think i wi—" his words were abruptly cut off as a punch landed square on his jaw, causing him to stumble backwards.

you stepped back in shock as your ex and mclaggen engaged in an intense physical fight, drawing the attention of others who gathered around them with murmurs and shouts.

as you stood there, trembling with fear and desperation, you mustered up all your strength to firmly grasp onto theo's arm and try to pry him away from the situation. your voice quivered as you exclaimed "theo, that's enough!"

but it was only when he felt your touch pulling him back that he finally stopped his aggressive actions. he made sure not to hurt you as he spat out angry Italian words towards the boy in front of him.

with a fierce glare, theodore warned the boy “se la tocchi ancora, cazzo, sei morto.” you quickly dragged him through the crowd, navigating through throngs of people until you reached the familiar staircase leading up to his dorm room.

despite his initial resistance, theo let himself be pulled along by your firm grip on his arm. once inside his room, he collapsed onto his bed in frustration and anger.

despite only sighing, you continue to search through his drawers in silence. after months had passed, you still remembered where you had left the small medkit and quickly retrieved it from its hiding spot. slamming it down on top of the drawer, your eyes begin to water as you gather supplies to clean off the blood from wounds.

theodore watched you silently, guilt piling up already within him. it was a surreal moment for you, helping your ex-boyfriend who had ended things between the two of you. turning around with watery eyes, you meet his gaze which softens upon seeing your tears.

you maintain your silence and proceed to gently wipe away the blood from his wounded face with the cloth. he watches you closely, visibly swallowing as he does so. "i'm sor-" he begins to say, but you quickly interrupt him, your voice shaking as you try to hold back tears. "don't you even dare apologize," your voice shakes with emotion as you struggle to hold back tears that threaten to spill over.

"(y/n)," he whispered, the sound of your name slipping from his lips causing you to feel a wave of emotions. tears began to flow down your cheeks as you gazed at him, meeting his gaze with a mixture of hurt and relief. without hesitation, he pulled you close to him on his bed, wrapping an arm around your waist. his heart ached, seeing how much pain he caused you. in between sobs, you heard him whispering apologies, begging for your forgiveness.

"fuck (y/n), i am so sorry. i know i messed up by breaking up with you. I can't even believe how stupid I was to let you go in the first place. please forgive me." his words were filled with remorse and regret as he held onto you tightly.

you bit your bottom lip, feeling it tremble as you buried your face into the boy's chest. with a heavy heart, you shook your head in disbelief. "no," you whimpered, the sound muffled against his shirt.

a deep ache settled in your chest as you mustered the courage to speak up. "you don't get to do this," you exclaimed, your voice quivering with emotion. you poked his chest for emphasis as you continued, "you can't just randomly break up with me and expect me to come running back to you like nothing happened!"

it was unfair. it was unjustified. and most of all, it hurt.

"you didn't even seem to have a reason to," you pried, pulling away from his embrace. but he wouldn't let go, his arm tightening around you possessively.

"i know i messed up," he whispered apologetically, his tone pleading for forgiveness. "i.. i was just being a coward. i should have gone talk to you but i didnt. and i regretted it everyday. but i promise i’ll make it right again”

your heart wavered at his words, torn between holding onto your anger and giving him another chance. you knew deep down that he still held a special place in your heart despite everything that had transpired between the two of you.

but could you really trust him again? could you risk getting hurt once more?

with a heavy sigh, you pushed away from him and looked into his eyes earnestly. "i-i don’t know," you spoke firmly yet gently. "i don’t want to end up getting hurt again," you trailed off, your voice vulnerable and hesitant. you couldn't bear the thought of going through the same pain and heartache that had left you broken before.

"and I promise you, you won't," he pleaded earnestly, his tone gentle yet determined. he could see the fear in your eyes and it pained him to know that someone had caused such deep scars on your heart."not ever again," he reassured, reaching out to gently rub your arm in a soothing gesture.

you raised your gaze to meet his, lifting your head from his chest with an unspoken question in your eyes. searching his features for any hints of hesitation or uncertainty, you couldn't help but nervously bite your lip - a small mannerism that always surfaced when you were anxious.

sensing your unease, he tenderly reached up and brushed away the tears and streaks of mascara that stained your cheeks. the gentle touch of his hand on your face caused you to lean into it, realizing in that moment just how much you had missed the intimate contact between you and him.

after a long moment of hesitation, you let out a resigned sigh and surrendered yourself to him, sinking into his embrace and resting your head on his chest. with a heavy heart, you whispered the words

"one chance" as your thoughts raced and your emotions battled within. yet, despite everything, you found the strength to give him one more opportunity to prove himself.

your voice was soft but resolute as you spoke, feeling his tense body relax as he heard your words. he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, expressing his gratitude for this chance. "thank you amore," he said sincerely.

"i missed you so fucking much." he announced. you only planted soft kisses on his cheek, uttering, "i missed you even more, Teddy..please don't act foolishly next time." he only grinned at your remark, nodding as he grabbed your chin, staring at your eyes, glancing at your lips as he hesitated, and you nod gently, giving him permission to pull you into a passionate soft kiss.

[hyunjinspark]

star lost with you | hyunjin au | part 18

pairing: idol! hyunjin x artist! reader

genre: friends to lovers, so much angst, smut, fluff, set in the idolverse, mutual pining, unrequited love, forbidden romance, slowburn (!!!) soulmate au, star-crossed lovers

synopsis: working in a quaint little art store, you’ve had the honor of meeting all kinds of people, but you’ve never met somebody like him. there were many reasons hyunjin returned to his hometown; a getaway from the ephemeral and fast-paced life of the city, so he could fall in love with life again. he thought he was prepared for everything, to study art in the way that he’s always wanted to, but what he didn’t anticipate was meeting you. hwang hyunjin realises that sometimes, the best things in life happen unplanned. 

word count: 33K

warnings: cursing, drinking, mature content, heavyyyy angst, mutual pining, sexual tension, jealousy, unrequited love, mature language, dirty jokes, arguments, whipped hyunjin, a big confrontation, lots of heartbreaks, mentions of diet, mentions of threats, toxic idol culture, a scene of unwarranted sexual advances! (not from hyunjin)

a/n: whew, this is another big chapter and picks up from hyunjin's pov after he moved back to the city, hope that's not confusing! there's a lot of toxicity surrounding idol culture, and features mature language and content throughout. please read the warnings to make sure you're comfortable with everything. this fic has taken a life of it's own, and im really enjoying focusing on yn's character arc, along with the obvious lovestory. this isn't a feel-good chapter, it features a lot of angst and uncomfortable situations, but i promise things will get better after this! anyway, this was very fun to write and picks up on one of my favorite arcs of this story. please get comfortable with snacks and a blanket to read. you can listen to my star lost playlist here!

important: all works are fiction, and do not in any way represent the real personalities or real people, they exist only as faceclaims, and are fictional characters.

masterlist

Five Months Ago.

The electric blue guitar in Hyunjin’s hands felt familiar. He adjusted the strap around his body, he was getting used to the weight of it again. It had been a while since he’d touched it, fingers skimming over the strings. If he focused on this, he could ignore the blaring lights in his face. 

“Still not used to the spotlight, Jinnie?” Jisung asked, elbowing him in the stomach. Hyunjin doubled over, avoiding another attack from the man, “Ouch. The lights are brighter than I remember”

“Well, how else will they get our pretty faces on camera?” Jisung grinned, stepping in front of him, and thankfully blocking the heat of the lights. 

“I’m…really hot” Hyunjin declared, drops of sweat dripping down his forehead, “I hope they can fix the cooling in here”

Jisung sighed, lifting his guitar to help him tune it, taking the weight momentarily off his hands. As he did that, someone stepped up to Hyunjin, a little electric fan and makeup palette in hand, “Can you please hold this? Your makeup’s running”

“Sorry” He apologised, even though it was no one’s fault. The stage equipment and lights made the set far too hot, the air conditioning was broken and they’d only just begun. Hyunjin couldn’t fathom what the full day of filming would look like. He held the little fan to his face, the cool instantly relaxing his muscles with relief, shoulders sagging from tension. Jisung stood between them still, trying to tune his guitar and the makeup lady awkwardly stepped closer, patting down the foundation on Hyunjin’s cheeks, “Did you tan when you were away?”

“Um, I suppose. I was out in the sun a lot” He responded, but realised quickly that she didn’t really want a response. She was berating him because his usual foundation no longer matched him. Her lips pulled into a thin line, “You should be careful”

Hyunjin’s eyebrows shot up. Careful about…what exactly? When he was in Daejon, swimming in the Creek, or lounging away in the sun, his first concern wasn’t exactly putting on any heavy sunscreen. He was away from the world of…such.

“He just doesn’t know his face would cost the company millions of won" Jisung joked. It was irresponsible, sure, but he had more important things distracting him at the time. At the memory of the bright Daejon sun, Hyunjin smiled, closing his eyes briefly to revel in the memory. If he thought hard enough, the blaring spotlights could almost replicate the southern summer sun. It was hard to get lost in his imagination though. The lady was prodding and poking at his face, turning him this and that side so she could fix him. This wasn’t the time.

“There. Try playing it now” Jisung said proudly, standing up straight and letting go of Hyunjin’s guitar. So he played a tempo to test it, and the music seemed perfectly fine now. In the end, it was futile anyway. The company didn’t allow them to play live in the music video. Apparently they had no faith that the boys wouldn’t mess up the instruments after such a long hiatus, and there was no time or money for retakes and reshoots. So, they would only pretend to play, and lip-sync the words and hopefully someone in the editing department would make it seem real. Still, Hyunjin was going to try his hardest to genuinely play. He hated pretending.

“Close your eyes,” The lady mumbled, an annoyed tone that frankly felt unwarranted. He followed the instructions, and felt the tip of a brush poking at his eyes as she reapplied some of the darker eyeshadow. The concept for this album was pop-rock, leaning heavily into the rock, and so their makeup was inspired from the 1980s world of rock.

“Did I do something wrong?” Hyunjin asked, as she used a little too much force on him, making his eyes water under the sharp brush.

“Hmm?” She was none the wiser, and he suddenly wondered if he should backtrack, but he wouldn’t be able to continue the filming knowing one of their makeup artists was possibly mad at him. “You…seem upset” He said. 

A sigh followed, “I’m not upset, I just think you should take better care of yourself. Jisung was right, you know? Your face does cost us thousand of won. I understand you’ve just come back from vacation but if you don’t do your job, it’s very difficult for me to do mine”

“Right” He nodded, sudden guilt overwhelming him, “Can I open my eyes now?”

With the confirmation, he did and looked at her, “I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful in the future” 

She smiled, pulling at his cheek, “It’s good to have you back, kid”

Within seconds, the set jumped back to life. Chan ran onto the stage, getting into his position, and Changbin followed. They were both visibly upset, due to the company not allowing them to sing live, but years in this industry had made them numb to some of that anger. Hyunjin took his place on the stage, as the cameras adjusted and thirty-something people gathered before them, ready to film. He wished he could sneak one look in the mirror before filming, for the reassurance that he didn’t look like a total clown, but he trusted the kind makeup lady. 

“All right, boys” Chan looked at them, microphone stand in his hands, “From the top, yeah?”

The backing track began on cue, and Hyunjin’s heart pounded like it hadn’t in ages. Maybe he wasn’t prepared to do a full-fledged music video shoot so soon after the hiatus. Did he even remember his chords right? The audience may not be looking at his hands, but he sure as hell would be. He squeezed his eyes shut, taking in a breath, hoping he didn’t mess up for the sake of their team. Millions of people would watch this. Thousands would instantly know they weren’t actually singing, and he had grown tired of the accusations. Most of those people would be rooting for his failure, and he could imagine the myriad of hate comments about how Hyunjin should never have returned to the band. Maybe it was a mistake being back in the spotlight so soon. Chan’s hand landed on his shoulder, startling him. He leaned in to whisper, loud enough for only Hyunjin to hear, “Forget everyone else, Jinnie. She’s going to love this”

A surprised smile tugged on Hyunjin’s lips just as the spotlight hit him, and the camera began rolling.

»»————-

Later that night, Jisung crawled into his bed. He pulled the blue comforter off Hyunjin’s aching legs, settling cross-legged across him. The filming had taken a toll on him, and he’d really let himself go when he was away. It usually took a lot more to get him this tired, and he was still adjusting to this new schedule. Jisung leaned against the wall, releasing a sigh of contentment. This had become second nature to them, a routine to sit, talk, and catch up on the past few months of summer. They’d stayed in touch through text, but it wasn’t the same. Some nights, they’d go for a walk, find an open barbecue place, and eat into the early hours of dawn. Other nights, they’d stay in the dorm and order some cheesecake, and Jisung would tell him everything he missed. Every anecdote, each funny moment, painstaking details of how many different ways he’d embarrassed himself. Hyunjin had missed a lot, so he’d sit and listen to the tales of the city that he’d pined for all this while. It was good to return to the life he’d left behind. Everything was different here, and sometimes it felt like summer had existed in a void away from the world. Jisung would also ask him about his hometown, but Hyunjin never knew where to start, so he preferred to listen to Jisung instead. He had a lot more to say anyway. 

Tonight was different. Jisung asked him about you.

And that wasn’t the routine.

“I don’t really know what you want me to tell you” Hyunjin laughed, and they were both tucked into blankets, like kids bonding at their first sleepover. 

“You’ve talked about this girl all freaking summer, and now you have nothing to say?”

“Well, yeah, you already know everything” Hyunjin mumbled, flush rising up. They never had this dynamic before, this…sharing of crushes, or whatever it could be called. Jisung was usually the one in relationships out of the two of them, and Hyunjin would never bug him about it. Not until Jisung told him himself. So, Hyunjin didn’t know what to say.

“Yeah, I know the shortened version you sent over text, but…how’d she react when you said you’re coming back?”

Hyunjin swallowed, memories flashing through his mind of his last night in his hometown, “She was really upset”

“Upset, like…didn’t talk to you kind of upset, or…had sex with you before you left— upset?”

The words sent a flush up Hyunjin’s neck, and he knew this was exactly what Jisung wanted. This was his intention. To embarrass him. To celebrate this new dynamic, when Hyunjin was the one with a stupid crush and not the other way around.

“We didn’t have sex” He clarified. Jisung’s eyes widened, “Really? Not even on the last night?”

Hyunjin leaned his head against the wall, playing with the threads of the blanket. The last night was complicated, for all the right and the wrong reasons, so he settled for the most matter-of-fact answer, “I didn’t have any condoms”

“Shut up, I know that’s not true. I sent you like a huge box your first week in Daejon. Don’t tell me you never used them…”

Hyunjin laughed at the memory, “Thank you for that Jisung, but…I’d already packed it away. I didn’t really expect anything to happen anyway. I thought she’d be too upset at me for leaving”

“So…that’s the only reason?”

Hyunjin swallowed, knowing that if perhaps they’d had an hour longer together that night, things would probably have led straight to that, condoms or no condoms, “Well…we were out of time”

“You spent months with this girl. How were you out of time?”

Hyunjin sighed, “There was no right moment. I didn’t want it to be rushed—”

“No rush? As if you wouldn’t bust a nut as soon as you’re—” Jisung was interrupted with a smack in the face by a pillow, voice turning high, “Ouch! What’d you do that for?”

“I’m not talking about this anymore” Hyunjin laughed, the red reaching the tips of his ears.

“That’s pretty unfair, you know. I used to tell you every detail of my relationship with Mae, down to the nitty-gritty details”

Hyunjin looked up at him. It had been a while since he’d talked about Mae so freely, and he swallowed, “How are you holding up?”

Jisung’s smile fell, humorous demeanour disappearing in seconds, “She’s happy now”

The statement meant so much more than he let on. Happy now. As in, she wasn’t happy before, when she was dating Jisung. Thinking back on it now, their breakup had been explosive, and it seemed like Jisung was still picking up the pieces. Was this what the rest of Hyunjin’s life would look like? Surrounded by miserable relationships destroyed by their careers. He can’t recall the last time he witnessed a love story with a happy ending. He sighed, “That sucks man”

Jisung shrugged, “It is what it is”

Hyunjin stretched out his legs under the blanket, letting out a soft groan, “Man, my limbs haven’t hurt like this in ages”

Jisung rolled his eyes, “You’re getting soft, big boy. We’re hitting the studio tomorrow at six. Album release is only a month away now”

His phone buzzed and he reached for it immediately. “Is that her?” Jisung asked, smiling.

“Yup” Hyunjin typed in a quick text to you, “She’s…telling me about her day”

“Is that all you guys do?” Jisung asked, a smirk on his face, scrolling up on their chats, without permission. He let out a dramatic gasp, “What are you writing her all these long-ass paragraphs for? It feels like I’m reading a book. Big red flag. At least break it up into multiple texts”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “I mean, there’s a lot she’s interested to know about my life here. I like telling her what we’re up to. If you see it from an outside perspective, it’s pretty cool. She really loves it”

Jisung laughed, eyebrows wiggling like a kid, “Uh-huh. Sure. That’s what she loves”

Hyunjin sighed, rolling his eyes, “Stop. We’re just…really close friends now”

“Does she know that?”

He didn’t like this conversation anymore and what it implied. He informed him for the umpteenth time, “I told her from the start that I don’t do relationships. She knows.”

Jisung was still scrolling through their chat, probably hoping to find something steamy but stopped at the media that Hyunjin had shared, letting out a gasp, “Wait a minute. Have you been sending her our studio recordings?” 

“Yes” Hyunjin frowned, “She likes those”

“You know, Eunwoo would have a heart attack if he knew you were leaking unreleased music”

Hyunjin sighed. Jisung was always so dramatic. “I’m not leaking anything. It’s only to her. She’s not going to show anyone”

“And how do you know that?”

“I trust her” Hyunjin’s reply was automatic, “More than anything”

Jisung smiled, eyes crinkling, tilting his head, “Even more than me?”

He chuckled, grabbing his phone back, “Shut up”

»»————-

He had been waking up earlier than usual, and he’d find himself at the kitchen table first thing in the morning, watching the sun rise through their apartment window. It was always fun to greet the boys as soon as they woke. He’d missed them for so long and he was trying to cherish every moment with them. Jisung would joke about how obsessed he was with them, often hovering like a parent around the house in the morning, waiting for their kids to wake up. It was strange because Hyunjin wasn’t an early riser, but his thirst to spend time with them overpowered his desire to lay in bed. He sat at the kitchen island scribbling ideas in a little journal Changbin bought him. It had admittedly become his diary, filled with crazy ideas, midnight thoughts, and sketches for paintings. 

The dance practices had got easier in the past weeks, and his limbs felt lighter. It almost took no time for him to get back to normal, sucked into the whirlpool of obligations that his life offered. There were so many interviews, press junkets, editorials, and he was back in the studio every night. He’d missed that grandly — getting to work on the music and, for the first time, writing his songs into the album. All of that made everything else worth it — like when they couldn’t leave their dorm because it was surrounded by paparazzi. They’d crowded around the building, hoping to get a glimpse at or any comments out of Jisung. Unfortunately, Jisung was still in the middle of a huge legal battle with the media that had leaked every detail of his personal life and relationship. Hyunjin didn’t understand how Jisung managed to still be so sane, after something like that rocked his world.

But slowly, he carved time in his life to start painting again, between schedules of course. An art shop in Hongdae was perfect for his needs. It was small and convenient, and he could be away from the public eye when he was in it. He found time for you. In changing rooms, backstage, in five-minute breathers between practice, he’d text you when he could. 

“You’re up early” Chan smiled, and Hyunjin looked up at him. He was already dressed, and he moved towards the light switch, turning them on, “You’re drawing in the dark?”

“It’s peaceful” Hyunjin hummed, “On set…it’s always too bright”

“Ah. Right. What are you sketching this time?” Chan moved over to him, glimpsing into his diary. 

“Just…a rough map of home. I’m writing down all the places, I wanna remember it. I don’t know when I’ll go back”

Chan smiled thoughtfully, “Is that your plan for the day?”

“No, actually, I was just about to head out to buy some flowers. I really want to draw some white hydrangeas, they won’t be in bloom for longer, and I’m hoping I can capture their whole life cycle”

Chan laughed, “Wow. It’s only six am and you’re already talking romance”

Hyunjin flushed, “It’s just for my drawings. I want to get better at observation. Speaking of, can I come watch you in the gym later? I…think I’ll draw you next”

Chan moved around the island, prepping a morning smoothie, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re flirting with me, Jinnie”

“Of course not” Hyunjin rolled his eyes, continuing to add details to his little map, right now he was adding the 7/11 between your house and Aera’s. 

“Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s going to be possible Jinnie. And…you’re probably gonna have to get the flowers tomorrow” Chan suddenly said, filling up the blender with ingredients.

Hyunjin frowned, “What do you mean?” But of course, Chan turned the blender on right then, so Hyunijn had to wait until he was done to find out. The loud whizzing sound filled the kitchen, and if the other boys weren’t up yet, they certainly would be now.

“Sorry about that” Chan apologised sheepishly, pouring the smoothie into four cups, and then eyed Hyunjin’s pajamas, “You should change into a coat, something warm. It’s chilly out”

Hyunjin tilt his head, suspicious, “Why?”

Chan slid him the smoothie, which Hyunjin hadn’t even asked for, and then grinned, “I’m kidnapping you”

“What?” He laughed, reaching for the cup anyway. He might as well start drinking healthy.

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet, Jinnie. She’s a prodigy, she owns like a gazillion art galleries across the country, and she wants to meet you”

“Since when are you interested in art?” Hyunjin hummed, trying not to gag at the taste of the drink. It was all protein powder and whey. Chan smiled at the sight, leaning forward on the counter, “Since my best friend started drawing masterpieces, of course. Go get changed. I’ll drive us there, and if we have time before going to set, we just might be able to buy your flowers”

»»————-

The paintings in the art gallery were beautiful, and Chan was a good sport, taking just enough interest in the art that Hyunjin felt important in explaining all the techniques. They’d wandered around for a while now, eyeing every exhibition. Enough time had passed as they stood observing the room of sculptures, and Chan nudged him. He was diverting his attention to a woman with a tablet in hand as she walked around the space. The apparent prodigy. She seemed busy, pushing buttons on the tablet as she inventoried the place, a flurry of rich visitors following her around. Hyunjin had seen her before, and he asked, “Does she work in our building by any chance?”

“She certainly does. Hey, Karina!” He suddenly called out, “This is Hyunjin”

Hyunjin went wide-eyed and awkward, certainly unprepared to meet someone so important out of the blue, but Karina seemed sweet enough. Her gaze caught his, widening when she noticed them. She whispered something to her über important guests, and then walked over to them, all prim and poise. She certainly looked the part of an art gallery owner, although Hyunjin had never seen one so young before. She shot him a smile, “Ah. I’ve heard so much about you, Hyunjin”

“Oh no” Hyunjin had a funny feeling in his stomach, “What did Chan say?”

She laughed, “Nothing too bad. He showed me some of your work”

“He what?” Hyunjin cringed, “I’m sorry about that”

She laughed again, “Don’t apologise. Your work’s pretty good. Even before Chan, you were kind of hard to miss actually. Your face is plastered all across the company building”

Hyunjin cringed yet again, clasping his hands together, “I’m…sorry about that. That’s embarrassing”

She laughed, “Not at all. So…do you like the collection?”

Hyunjin looked around, nodding, “Oh. Of course! It’s beautiful. I love the exhibit, and I can’t believe you have some Monet up too. That must have been hard to get”

She tilt her head, an admiring smile on her face, “It certainly was. The job’s not easy, but I enjoy it a lot. We try to stick to contemporary work, switching up exhibits every month or so. You’re lucky you caught us during Monet. We’re having those shipped back to Paris soon”

Hyunjin nodded, hands slipping into his pockets, “Paris. Wow…”

“Actually I don’t have too much time, so I’m going to cut to the chase” She smiled, “The reason I asked Chan if I could meet you was…if you’d ever be interested, I wouldn’t be opposed to hosting an exhibition for your work”

His eyes widened, a surprised chuckle escaping him, “What? I’m literally just starting out. Experimenting…I don’t even have a specific art style yet or much original work…”

Karina shook her head as if all of that was an afterthought, “We already know it’ll be a hit. You’re very loved, especially in Seoul”

He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Why would an actual, real-life gallery ever want to exhibit his work? He barely had work to begin with! All he’d done was post a few artworks on his Instagram, and mentioned that he liked drawing in an interview, “But I’m not a professional, by any means, I just…do it because I enjoy it”

She smiled, “Precisely. It’d be nice to give new artists a voice. Sooner or later, some art gallery is going to snatch you up. I’d prefer if we were the first. There’s a lot of interest in you by the public. It’d be a loss to not display your work. If there’s anything I learnt from Kim Jieong it was—”

“Wait, you know Kim Jieong?” Hyunjin forgot his manners, interrupting her, especially in such an excitement, but he couldn’t help himself.

Karina laughed, eyes narrowing, “Are you a fan?”

“No, but my girlfr-“ Hyunjin stopped in his sentence, clearing his throat, and he could feel Chan’s gaze burn curiously into him, “Um…one of my friends is. He’s her favourite artist in the world”

“Well…I wouldn’t give him so much credit” Karina spoke, clutching the tablet tightly, “But yes, I used to intern with him earlier”

He was too straightforward, but he didn’t care, “Do you think you could help me get in touch with him? I’m sorry, I realise that’s a big favour and—”

Her expression changed, “I don’t know, Hyunjin. My relationship with Jieong…is complicated. But, if you’d really like maybe I could help you set up a meeting or something”

“Really?” His eyes lit up, and the conversation had completely sidetracked but it didn’t matter, “That would mean everything to me. Thank you”

“Of course. I can’t promise anything. This may be TMI, but he and I aren’t on the best terms. He is a wonderful artist though. I’ll give him that”

“Thank you, Karina” He smiled, genuinely. A security guard came up, tapping her on the shoulder. She nodded at him, and then looked back at Hyunjin, “I'm sorry I have to get going, there's been an incident involving a spill in the impressionist gallery …but the offer’s always up for the exhibition, by the way. Eunwoo could give you my contact details. I think you’d made a great addition to my portfolio, Hyunjin”

He smiled, but all he could focus on was that she knew Kim Jieong. Hope festered in his heart that maybe now he could finally get you the chance you deserved.

»»————-

The Hydrangeas bloomed beautifully on Hyunjin’s desk. He’d been drawing them all afternoon, and he looked forward to seeing their state change as he came home each night from work. It felt silly, but summer flowers reminded him of you. The vase needed fresh water, and he stopped sketching to go up to the kitchen and fill it up. The boys were gathered around the dining table, just about to head out to the studio, and Chan was preparing cocktails. Hyunijn switched on the water tap, absentmindedly watching the vase fill up, listening to their conversations. 

Karina still hadn’t got back to him, but he was holding onto hope. It had only been a week since their conversation after all. His days since then had been busy so he couldn't worry too much about it, occupied by schedules, he’d also managed to squeeze in time for himself now. It seemed like going back to his hometown had been genuinely helpful. It had fulfilled its purpose. He’d come back to work, feeling a new kick in energy and joie de vivre. There was hardly any sadness like before, and that's all Hyunjin could have asked for from his little vacation anyway.

Since his return, there had been some changes to the company too. He’d discovered a new library, hidden in their building, somewhere on the fourth floor, and he’d been frequenting it during his breaks. Every morning, he picked a new book to read and would fixate on it for the next week and a half. Barely any employees ever came to the library, other than HR sometimes, and it was a nice escape. He could imagine that you’d really love the library, full of nooks and crannies begging to be found and thousands of books aching to be read.

He discovered he had an affinity for poetry, and some poems never left his mind. There was one in particular by Kim Yong-Taek that occupied all the space in his head. 

눈 내리기 전에 / Before the snow falls,  한번 보고 싶습니다 / I would love to see you.

They felt real, as if they’d been written only for him, and shivers often ran up his skin as he stood reading them quietly, a deep ache in his heart at the familiarity of the words. It was crazy that something written hundreds of years ago could capture exactly what Hyunjin was feeling right now. He hoped he could make music that felt the same to others. The longing in his bones only got worse each day, and he was making a plan to fix it. Summer had been beautiful, even contending for his favourite season, but it was ending, and he would do anything to make autumn just as beautiful.

»»————-

Sleep clouded his vision, the song's melody blending with his drowsiness. It had been a week of rerecordings and they’d barely got any rest. Hyunjin tugged the headphones off, glancing at Chan through the observation window, “Was that a good take?”

Chan gave him a thumbs up through the window. His energy had been deflated too, but Hyunjin was hoping for a better response, “Are you sure? I can do another take. I think…it doesn’t sound as emotional as Jisung’s verse”

Hyunjin could only just about see Chan’s eyes, squinted over the mask he wore. The decision to cover his face was obvious; there was a little camera propped up in the studio, a way to film behind-the-scenes content for when the album finally released. Chan obviously didn’t want to be captured in this sleep-deprived state. Still, Hyunjin would have loved to see his expression, the microscopic changes in his face would tell him if he really loved the recording or not.

Chan nodded, weary eyes, “If you think you can do a better take, go for it, Hyunjin”

So he did, inhaling a breathful of air so he wouldn’t falter during his lines. He’d sounded too emotionless and mechanical and they were recording a love song. He had to pour his feelings into it, so he closed his eyes. The lyrics were embedded into his brain anyway. 

Chan began the backing track, and Hyunjin let his thoughts drift... They wandered into a familiar memory, one he usually saved for bedtime and when he was alone. His mind kept coming back to it. It was so fresh, but each day it was fading away, slipping out of his grasp and he felt the need to bottle up the memory and store it in a safe forever, where it would always be remembered. The twinkling fairy lights of the Château, the blue paint puddle on the floor, the paint you spilled on his shirt, the heated and frenzied first, second…and third kisses. The moment had been so short-lived. He had been so vulnerable that night. You’d seen him that night, truly seen him, and he still felt surprised at how much he’d divulged in you so easily. It was the realest he’d ever felt, like the rest of his life before and after was just a charade for his friends, for the cameras, for himself.

Maybe it was only with you that he was the real Hyunjin. The teasing and laughs over the chocolate strawberries and paint easels had been second nature and strangely familiar, like it wasn’t your first time doing this together, as if you had both been falling into patterns and habits of centuries ago. The most innocent actions felt crude, and cruel. Crude to kiss your cheek but not take it further. Cruel to give in to a desire he could never fulfil. Maybe every other moment in his life had been fabricated except for that night, that would explain why he was the happiest then. 

“Shit…what was that?” A voice interrupted him. Hyunjin snapped open his eyes to see Chan staring at him in disbelief. The backing track had gone onto the next verse now. He cleared his throat, “Um. Sorry I….spaced out. Let me record that again”

“Are you kidding me? That’s the best take you’ve ever given us” Chan laughed, in disbelief, stepping into the recording booth, “You sold that to me completely, Fuck. You almost made me tear up. You should do more ballads, Jinnie. That was amazing”

Hyunjin blinked at him, holding onto his headphones tightly, so unaware of himself, “I…I didn’t realise it was that good”

“Come on. Listen to it” Chan grabbed his arm, leading him out, and replaying what had just been recorded. Hyunjin almost didn’t recognise himself singing. He’d never sang like this before. Goosebumps rippled up his arms and neck, and he looked at Chan, “You’re right. That one turned out…really good”

“Damn. You can convince the audience that you’ve lived a thousand lives, been through a hundred heartbreaks. You convinced me. That was so real”

Hyunjin’s lips tugged into a smile, and he pushed his hands in his sweatshirt pockets, “It felt real to me too”

Chan wrapped up the recording, and then happily turned the company camera off, “Do you know what this means, Jinnie?”

“What?” Hyunjin asked, grateful they weren’t being recorded anymore. 

Chan stepped closer to him, a growing smile on his face, “We fucking finished this album, baby”

»»————-

Hyunjin was changing the water in the vase. He’d been desperately trying to keep the Hydrangeas alive, but that had been a failing task. So he’d found some time to buy some Cosmos, hoping he could draw them instead. It was almost autumn now, and the flower in bloom had changed, so he kept trying to adjust to it. It was harder than he thought. Chan's voice distracted him, “Are you coming to dinner with us? We’re thinking of trying that new Italian place”. Hyunjin looked up at him, “Shit. Is it okay if I bail? I was going to call Y/N later tonight. She wanted to paint together”

His eyebrows shot up, a small smile on his face, “Paint together? Is that a euphemism?”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, switching the water tap off, “No. It's obviously not”

“Wouldn’t you love if it was?” Jisung smirked at him, walking into the kitchen. It seemed like all their serious, and unserious conversations often took place in this kitchen, their one common space. Chan laughed, “So how long will your paint date last? Should we bring you any takeout pizza?”

Hyunjin shrugged, glancing at the clock, “No, that’s okay, I’m not hungry. It’ll last a few hours maybe. Next week we’re going to be so busy with the press tour, I was hoping to finish a whole painting tonight. It’s easier if I’m doing it with her. I’m just more motivated then”

“There’s a word for that, you know?” Chan leaned forward on the counter, a teasing smile on his face, “She’s your proper muse”

Hyunjin laughed, not expecting him to say that, but he had been thinking about it. After all, that’s what had made the recordings so much easier. He was singing with you in mind. He denied it, “That’s really cheesy, even for you, Chan…”

“Eh, but it’s true. You should tell her that tonight”

Hyunjin smiled, already imagining your reaction to such a thing. He wouldn’t even know how he’d bring it up. Wouldn’t it be too much? Would you be embarrassed? He could recall all the times he’d catch you off guard with his compliments back in Daejon, your expression as if he’d said the most insane thing ever when Hyunjin was just appreciating you. Fuck. He really needed to see that reaction in person again. 

Every perfect summer memory only added to the weight of his longing in fall, and he decided it was time, “I’m gonna invite her to come to Seoul”

Changbin stood across the hall, having just come out of his room to catch the last bit of conversation. His eyebrows shot up, “You are…?”

Hyunjin swallowed, catching the boys' reactions as he revealed the plan, “I just bought the train tickets for her this morning, and while she's here she can stay in an apartment I rented out for her. It’s a few blocks away from ours, so she’s close enough to me, without it being suspicious”

Jisung frowned, “But if you rented it, your name would go down in the record”

“No, I already thought of that. I asked to use my aunt’s credit card, and she’s not a Hwang, so there won’t be any trace back to me”

Jisung leaned back in his chair, “You really thought of everything, huh? No loopholes?”

“No loopholes” Hyunjin nodded, hoping they’d approve of it because something like this would put them all under scrutiny and risk, “Well, as long as she says yes”

“Why wouldn’t she?” Changbin frowned, crossing his arms, “If I was her, I’d jump at the chance”

“Yeah, I know you would. There’s an apprenticeship she wanted in the city…but she didn’t get it yet. She may not want to come here anymore…in case it reminds her of that”

“Is there any chance she can still get it?”

Hyunjin shrugged, placing his palms on the counter as he thought over it, “I don’t know how it works. I’m trying to figure it out”

Chan sighed, seeing his dilemma, “Hey, if it’s in the stars…she’ll get it. She seems talented enough from what you tell me about her”

“She’s hellbent on believing she can’t get it. I’m going to try to convince her to apply again. It’s kind of frustrating. Without connections, it’s so hard to make anything out of it. I mean, when we were at the gallery, you introduced me to Karina. It was so easy. She saw my work, and immediately agreed to a fucking exhibition. Sometimes it feels kind of unfair. What did I do to deserve that? I know there are hundreds of artists better than me who should be getting exhibitions, but…I’m getting it just because I’m famous. It feels weird and privileged”

Chan sighed, “Hyun…I know what you mean, but…it’s unfortunately how things are. And it’s not like you’re misusing this. The fact that you recognise it in the first place is sometimes all we can do”

Hyunjin let out an exhale, staring off into the distance, when his phone pinged. It was a text from you.

hey! im all set up here. ready when you are :)

Chan grinned, handing him a cocktail he’d just made, “Go on then. We’ll head to dinner and we’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Hyunjin smiled, rushing back to his room. In anticipation of this call, he’d already set up his work area. Ever since he’d been back, he hadn’t gotten too much time talking to you, so he would make the most of it. He set his glass down next to his MacBook, and laid out his canvas. Through the computer screen, he could see a glimpse of your room, which was messier than his. It had more personality, and it was more lived in. He realised he’d never had a chance to come to your place. He had a sudden urge to see how you set up your room and things, your little knick-knacks, the big teddy he won for you, your artwork curated over years. But from hundreds of miles of away, he could only see a little square of your life. You were biting down on a chip when he spoke, “I think you’re going to love the song I’m working on with Chan”

Your face changed, lighting up, “Yeah?” 

The connection wasn’t great, so all your responses were delayed, but Hyunjin hummed, proud, “It’s…a sexy, contemporary kind of R&B. I can imagine you liking it”

“When can I hear it?” 

He laughed at your eagerness, “We’re still writing it”

You nodded, going back to painting. He would surprise you soon with the ticket he bought you to Seoul, but he wanted to build up to it. Perhaps he could do a grand gesture, or leave you little hints to keep you wondering. He could only imagine how happy you’d be. He could show you his favourite places in the city, introduce you to the boys and you could finally see his life, in all it’s glory. It only felt fair after you’d let him into yours so warmly. He had fit into your life in town so easily, a puzzle piece falling into place, and he hoped he could make it the same for you. Obviously, there’d be less freedom, more restrictions but at least you wouldn’t be a stranger to his lifestyle anymore. Hyunjin took a moment to sip his drink, staring at his own work. getting the courage to say it, “Can I say something cheesy?”

“Yeah?”

He leaned over the webcam, so he could be infinitesimally closer to you, cheeks reddening, “When I get stuck in the middle of the writing process, I think of you, and it really helps”

He watched as you sat on your knees, curious, “What do you think about?”

He flushed, regretting how this made him sound so romantic when he wasn't trying to be, “You know…just our time together. Chan teases me about it. He says you’re my muse or whatever”

He saw your eyes widen, and a deep emotion overwhelmed you. He didn’t see you react more, and he wondered what this meant to you, what he meant to you right now, even so far away. You didn't say anything back. You must be holding it all in, just like him. Maybe you didn’t know how to put your thoughts into words. He couldn't blame you. Even after reading all the poems in the world, Hyunjin didn’t have the words either. Not enough anyway.

»»————-

It was supposed to be an informal gathering to celebrate the album, but it felt more like a full-fledged party. Their manager’s apartment had been completely transformed, no empty floor space as everybody from the company had gathered around for a hurrah. Hyunjin had a few drinks in his system already, enough to get him really going. He stood away from the crowd, tucked into a corner, phone pulled out, typing in a ridiculously cheesy message to you. The party was great, and he was so happy to have finished the album. All that was missing was you. The text started sounding far too cheesy, inspired by the love rot that the poetry books had filled in his brain, and slowly, it became more and more unhinged. The wine Chan brought must have got to his head, but he couldn't stop, all of his thoughts pouring out in a mixture of sentences that didn't really make any sense.

I want you here with me at this party. Fuck, it’s so dull without you. If you were here, we could just sneak off and…I would kiss you. Positively. My manager is here, the scary one, but he doesn’t have to know. Earlier, I was reading a book and there was an English word in it that reminded me of you. Saudade. I looked it up because I was so curious and it said it’s a state of melancholy for a beloved someone or something. I think that explains this ridiculous feeling I have when I think of you. I have it even when I’m not thinking of you. Like last week, when we were recording this one song. It’s like you’re here with me in everything. I guess what I’m saying is, I just want to kiss you really really badly and fuck I’m really drunk so I’m sorry for how this may sound but I just really need to feel you—

The phone was snatched from his hands, Changbin squinting to read the message, “Who are you texting in the middle of our party?”

Hyunjin flushed red. He was really drunk but he still noticed their manager to the side, and hushed, “Keep your voice down, Binnie”

He looked up, eyes wide, “Is this your idea of a sext?”

“What? no— it’s not a sext. I’m not sexting, what the hell”

“You’re like…weirdly poetic when you’re drunk”

Hyunjin closed his eyes, “Just…give me that”

He deleted the message. 

It was a bad idea to be sending you drunk messages anyway. He should just call you instead. Yeah. That sounded like a smarter, much better idea. Before he could dial your number, Changbin pulled him to the living room, and Hyunjin let himself be tugged along. Jisung was standing shirtless there, liquid smeared down his chest and abs. He was laughing, hair all messed up, clearly very tipsy, “Come on! Who’s next?”

Hyunjin did not intend to be a part of whatever this was, but Changbin pushed him ahead, “He’s up” But they were surrounded by company employees. Even the girl from the art gallery, Karina, was here and he flushed from the embarrassment. “I don’t even know what we’re doing” Hyunjin chuckled nervously, as Changbin hoisted him up over the table, handing him a quick shot to get the nerves out. Hyunjin downed it in a single sip, the liquid burning his throat. The state of his sobriety stopped him from protesting too much, until Jisung explained, “Body shots, of course. Pick your contender, Jinnie”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened, looking around the bunch of people, none of whom he felt comfortable touching him, but he saw a few of the women shy away, “I…I don’t know”

“I’ll do it” Chan laughed, stepping ahead from the crowd, “If that’s okay with you”

Jisung certainly seemed to have enjoyed it, and he wanted to give it a shot. He could be chill with this, but he would definitely blame the alcohol in him for how easily he went down on the table, and how easily he let Chan unbutton his black shirt. The overhead lights were too bright and Hyunjin closed his eyes, and his head was spinning. The music was pounding in his ears, the marble countertop cold to his back.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this” He laughed to himself, swept up in the environment as Changbin dripped tequila over his stomach. The chill liquid tickled him and he immediately squirmed, sending a shiver down his spine. He felt embarrassed for his reaction. Clearly, he was a novice to this party celebration, but he was also enjoying the attention.

“You ready, Jinnie?” Chan asked, looking up at him with a comforting smile. Chan was definitely drunk too in order to pull a stunt like this in front of the employees. They were absolutely loving it though and he could hear them all cheer them on. They never got to see the members in a more unprofessional environment than this one, and Hyunjin hoped none of them changed their opinion of him after this. He gave a quick thumbs up, facing the ceiling as he felt Chan’s mouth near his stomach. He sucked in a breath in anticipation, cheeks flushing from all this attention. He was used to people’s eyes on him, but this was so different and intimate. Somehow, his self-conscious part disappeared just as Chan licked a stripe of tequila up Hyunjin’s torso. He squirmed, a giggle escaping at the ticklish feeling, and Chan held him down, hand on his thigh, laughing, “Stop moving! You’ll get it on the table!”

Hyunjin stilled with the threat of ruining their manager’s table, eyes still closed as Chan finished licking the rest up until his chest, and his stomach was in knots. He couldn’t help but imagine this situation differently. Would you have partaken in this with him? How would that have looked like? If it was you doing this to him, instead of Chan? The little party activity would definitely have turned into something else by the end of it…and he knows he definitely would not be able to resist, not when your tongue was on his stomach and you were so close to him. The image sent a rush of blood through his body, thoughts that he should definitely not be indulging in when his best friend was doing body shots off him, and Hyunjin immediately sat up, bumping his head right into Chan’s. “Ouch!” Chan exclaimed, clutching his forehead, “Careful, Jin!”

“Um, sorry” He swallowed, jumping off the counter, embarrassment lingering from how he'd stupidly turned himself on in front of everyone he knew, “I felt sick”

“No worries” Chan laughed, oblivious to his friend's thoughts, patting his shoulder as everybody around them continued cheering them on, “You did good”

Hyunjin walked away, feeling sticky now, and he tried to wipe off the remaining with a kitchen towel. If it was you, he would have let you go all the way, until every stripe of tequila was gone from his body. And then some more.

He buttoned his shirt up again, hands shaking from the buzz, blood rushing to the parts that needed his attention. He needed to hear your voice. You didn’t even know he was at this party. It was so inconvenient to be so far away, trying to convey all that he felt through a mere text or phone call. He stood to the side, shaky fingers pulling up your contact until he heard your voice on the other end. “Guess what?” Hyunjin grinned.

“What?” Your voice was soft on the other end, so calm, grounding him in his drunkenness. A stark contrast to the lively atmosphere of his party and he could think straight again. Hyunjin smiled, “We finished the album. Like, for real. Every track is actually ready. We’re at my manager’s apartment, all of us, and the whole crew. It feels so fucking good”

He felt excited to hear your reaction. He was grinning ear to ear, as you congratulated him. He’d heard that today many times, but hearing it from you was incomparable. You were proud of him. He giggled, stumbling out of the hallway, blood rushing to his head, “Jisung made me drink…far too much. I liked the wine, though; Chan found it in this cool store, but then me and Binnie…we did body shots, and guess what? Chan fucking did body shots too! It was so insane. He also invited the girl from the art gallery, which is so funny. Apparently, she has connections in our industry too. She’s the daughter of —” 

“Wait, you did body shots?” You interrupted him.

Hyunjin nodded, walking around, trying to avoid anybody being able to pick up on his conversation. So many people were in this tiny apartment, and he wished he had more peace and quiet to talk to you. “It was insane. Just like Seungmin told us”

“I…can’t hear you, Hyun” You spoke.

“Sorry” He apologised, walking off towards the balcony, “Can you hear me now?”

“Yeah, I can”

“Fuck. I miss you so fucking much” He mumbled, voice dropping, and the rest of this party was fading from his vision, tunnel vision to you and your voice on the other end, “Why aren’t you here?”

Hyunjin thinks the only way he can stop missing you is if you start visiting him in your dreams. He wonders what sorcery he needs to do for that to happen. Could he visit you in your dreams? So you never grow apart, and find each other every single night. “I miss you too….but you should get back to the party—”

Hyunjin failed to notice Changbin creeping up on him, taking the phone away, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Is that Y/N?”

“Give me the phone back, Changbin!” Hyunjin sighed, all his poetic declarations disappearing into the void. At this point, he thinks he needs to maintain another diary just to write all the things he wishes to say to you but never does.

“Hey!” Changbin was talking to you, “You must be the girl who stole him away from us for months and months. I have every reason to hate you”

“Stop!” Hyunjin exclaimed, realising their managers stood nearby and the commotion had caught their ears, “Don’t announce it to the entire party.” Changbin laughed, “So tell me, on a scale of 1 to 10—”

“Changbin, give me my phone back!” Hyunjin tried to grab it.

“Let me finish!” Changbin laughed. Hyunjin’s head began to ache when he saw Jisung approach their chaos, “Fuck. Is that her?”

“Jisung, can you please ask him to give me my phone back?” He sounded like a broken record, like all his primary functions had ceased and wouldn’t function until he heard your voice again. “Is that Hyunjin’s girlfriend?” Jisung asked, loudly. It was loud enough that their managers heard it, ears perking up and glancing at Hyunjin. One of their managers, Eunwoo raised an eyebrow, tilting his head. This was the first he’d heard of this, and goosebumps rippled up Hyunjin’s neck at what this could mean.

His voice dropped, stepping back towards his meddling friends, “Stop, Jisung. She’s just my friend. How many times do I have to say that, and don’t announce it to the party!”

“Then I can have her?” Changbin interrupted, oblivious to his surroundings. Hyunjin yanked the phone back, and he was pissed, but he wouldn’t blame them. They were only messing about. He let out a breath, “Hey, I’m so sorry. They…took you hostage”

Your voice sounded far away, resigned, “That’s okay. Don’t worry about it. You should enjoy the party, Hyun” Panic built up in his throat at the thought of you leaving, “No, no, I called you because I missed you”

“I can’t really even hear you,” You said, crushing his heart and soul to irreparable pieces. Maybe he was being dramatic, but perhaps he needed you to breathe, “We can just talk tomorrow. Please just have a good time tonight, okay?”

Hyunjin was ready to protest, bear his heart out to keep you a little while longer. What was the point of celebrating his success if he couldn't share it with you right now? Isn't that why he'd pushed himself so hard this time? So he could impress you with all the songs he'd written with only you in mind. He’d leave the party if he had to, just so you wouldn’t go. Before he could declare his insanity of wanting to talk to you, Eunwoo stepped closer to him. His eyes were narrowed, a tell-tale sign, disapproving head tilt. Hyunjin had lost the opportunity, and he said, “All right. I’ll call you later”

With no qualms about destroying the party's vibe, Eunwoo asked curiously, “Who are you talking to?”

“Nobody” Hyunjin panicked, hanging up. He shoved the phone into his pocket, and it burned into him. Eunwoo sighed, “I heard Jisung mention a girlfriend. Is there something you want to share?”

He shook his head, unease settling into him or maybe he was just about to throw the fuck up, “Can we…not talk about this right now? I mean, we’re at a party”

Eunwoo stared at him, as if dissecting all of Hyunjin's deepest, darkest secrets, gaze burning through him. Then he nodded with a smile, “Of course, Hyunjin. You should celebrate”

Hyunjin’s nerves calmed down and he began walking away. Maybe now he could return to enjoying the rest of the night.  But of course, Eunwoo stopped him, hand over his shoulder “We’ll talk about it first thing in the morning though. I want to see you seven AM, in my office”

Hyunjin suppressed a groan, bile rising up his throat at what this could possibly mean, “Oh. Okay”

Eunwoo patted his shoulder, before walking back to the party, “Don’t be late, Hwang”

»»————-

He definitely didn’t feel human stepping into the office, a mere three hours later. He hadn’t got any sleep. He had just enough time to head home, shower, and wipe the remnants of tequila off his stomach before heading here. The body shots didn’t sound like a great idea now. His shirt was sticky and ruined. His head hurt, and he was surprised that Eunwoo wasn’t hungover. He’d probably gouged on hangover soup last night, and he sat in a crisp suit-and-tie across the table. He looked up at him, cheery smile, “Morning, Hwang”

Hyunjin sat in the uncomfortable office chair, squinting against the lights that hurt his sensitive eyes, “Good morning…”

“Did you have a good time at the party last night?”

Hyunjin nodded, putting on a smile, “Yes. It was nice”

Eunwoo was their nicest manager, he’s the only reason Hyunjin had been able to go back home and he certainly liked him the most. He was miles better than Kim Soohyun, the guy who basically decided Hyunjin’s life. But now…it seemed like Eunwoo had been sent by his higher-ups to sweet-talk Hyunjin, “You certainly seemed to enjoy it, but sadly, I didn’t see too much of you. We would have liked to get a drink with you”

“Ah, I was with the boys most of the night” He answered. Could this meeting not have been an email? His head was pounding and he couldn’t focus on anything.

Eunwoo tilt his head, picking up on his irritation, “Say it. Whatever’s on your mind”

“No disrespect. I…just don’t understand why we need to talk about this right now”

“Why? Because it’s a Sunday and most people don’t have to go to work today, or because you drank too much last night?” He laughed, leaning back in his chair. There was a stress ball in his hands and Eunwoo kept tossing it back and forth. 

Hyunjin bit his lip, “No, I’m fine. I’m just a bit tired”

“Because it may be a day off for everyone in the country, but not for you. I’m sure you’re aware of that. After all, superstars don’t get to where they are by slacking off”

Hyunjin frowned, “I understand. Is there a specific reason you wanted to see me today?”

Eunwoo put down the stress ball in his hands, expression suddenly turning serious, “Look, kid. If I could turn a blind eye to this, I would. Trust me. I hate doing this as much as you hate hearing it, but Kim Soohyun was at the party too. He overheard things. I’m accountable to him, and you’re accountable to me”

Hyunjin sank into his seat, “So…am I in trouble or something?”

Eunwoo clasped his hands, “Depends…did you do something to get you into trouble?”

“No, I didn’t, Eunwoo”

He leaned forward on the desk, hands folded under his chin, “There was quite a lot of talk about a girlfriend last night. You never mentioned that to me”

Hyunjin let out a sigh, “There’s no girlfriend. The boys were dicking around”

Eunwoo gave him a tight-lipped smile, “Then, who were you talking to? On the phone when I saw you? Surely your parents wouldn't be awake that late”

“Just…a friend from back home. They’re not important”

“Look, Hyunjin. I hate to pry. Your personal life is entirely yours but not when it concerns your image or the company, or god forbid, the media. If you are dating somebody, you have to let me know so I can be prepared for when it eventually gets out to the media”

Hyunjin’s head began to hurt exponentially more and maybe he should never have called you last night, “I’m not dating anybody, Eunwoo”

Eunwoo nodded. Clearly, he didn’t believe him. He’d known and managed Hyunjin for years. He'd known him since he was fifteen. He could see right through him and wished he was a better liar. “You’re gonna have to give me more than that”

Hyunjin sighed, sitting up straighter as if that could convince him better, “She’s just an old friend, from back home”

Eunwoo raised an eyebrow, and then leaned back in his chair, “Okay, I’ll believe you. I hope you’ve already passed along the contract to her”

He frowned, “What, the NDA? I’m not dating her, why does she have to sign it?”

“Well yes, you’re not, but clearly you and her are close if you’re drunk calling her from a work party. She could have the wrong idea, if she goes around telling people a different story…that’ll be a problem”

“She is not going to tell anyone”

“You don’t know what girls can be capable of to get fame. An argument with you, if someone bribes her, if she sees any opportunity, she could go to the media—”

“Y/N is not like that” Hyunjin interrupted, a surge of bitterness ripping through at the assumptions.

Eunwoo’s eyebrows shot up, “Y/N…that’s her name”

He wished he could take back that information. It was too late. He released a breath, “Look, you’re not making her sign any contracts. We’re not romantically involved. There are no legal obligations. Am I not even allowed to have fucking friends anymore?”

Eunwoo closed his eyes, “Don’t get angry on me, Hyunjin. You’re not stupid. This is how it’s been for years. The rules won’t change for you. It’s going to be difficult to manage these rumors after you already took half a year off to yourself and with Jisung’s trial and Chan and Kairi’s…whatever the hell they’re doing. You say you’re not dating this girl, I’m going to trust you on that. But if at any point that changes or the girl goes to the news, the company will have to step in. For example, she talks to somebody about her…special friendship with you. Kim Soohyun won’t think twice before suing her for defamation”

Hyunjin saw red, and he clenched his fists as to not react. Defamation? “I get it, Eunwoo”

He nodded, putting a document on the table and sliding it to him, “If anything changes, you have to let me know. I have to be ready to release a statement”

“What, a statement…for what?” Hyunjin stared at the files. An NDA and a press release statement. This was absolutely insane. Nothing had even happened, and they were preparing for the worst case scenario. No, they were waiting for it. 

“You’ve been in this industry long enough, Hwang. We must inform the public and fanbase…if you’re in a relationship. If we keep it to ourselves and it gets out anyway, the backlash would be immense. Now, don’t worry. We can always try to keep her identity secret if you’re worried about her safety and with threats and everything, but—”

Hyunjin stood up in panic, blood rushing to his head, “That’s not happening. There’s not gonna be any threats to her…or announcements”

Eunwoo looked up at him, blinking blankly, “Okay… I appreciate the sentiment but that’s not entirely in your hands. The press tour starts today. All eyes are going to be on the four of you. The whole damn country is talking about you, Hyunjin. We can’t afford a scandal. Kim Soohyun has me in a tight grip. I have faith in you that nothing happens to throw that off”

He swallowed, nails digging into his palm from his emotions, “Yeah. It won’t”

Clearly, his plans of bringing you to the city to visit him were down the fucking drain. He’d be lucky if he could even get a phone call with you anymore. 

“Also if you’re using the company phone to stay in contact with her, I suggest you change that. It shouldn’t be traced back to us”

Hyunjin nodded, and he wasn’t even dating you but the worst was already happening. This was what he’d feared the whole time. There was no point. There was a bitter taste in his mouth and he asked, “Is that going to be all?”

Eunwoo nodded, “You should take these documents with you, just in case. HR were happy to print them out for me this morning. They also told me you’ve been hanging out in the romance section a lot in the company library”

So he had absolutely no privacy anymore either. Hyunjin snatched the folder, carelessly holding the files in his hand, with no intention of ever using them. He wouldn’t let the press statement or NDA document anywhere near you. In fact, they’d be tossed in the trash as soon as he was home. He headed for the door and couldn’t get out of there fast enough. He needed to decompress. He couldn’t show up to practice this pissed and this wound up. He’d explode, and the boys didn’t deserve that. 

Eunwoo’s voice stopped him, “Oh, and congratulations, Hyunjin”

Hyunjin turned around, gripping the doorknob in blind fury. It felt like a taunt, a joke. There was nothing to congratulate him for. He couldn’t even keep his friends close without it exploding into a big deal. What did he even have to be grateful for? He looked right at Eunwoo, and his lack of sleep made him more irritable, “For…what?”

Eunwoo smiled warmly, his entire demeanour changing, “The album pre-sales are the biggest we’ve ever seen. You’re a global superstar now. You should feel very, very lucky, kid"

»»————-

“Can you stand still for me, please?” The assistant responsible for touching up Hyunjin’s face asked. He nodded, letting her put rosy tint on his cheeks, blending it with the contour. He’d been here for what easily felt like hours, and through the mirror he could see that Changbin was just about done with his makeup. 

The week leading up to the release was always the hardest. Somebody tugged at his hair and he resisted the urge to grimace. They didn’t deserve his terrible mood; they were only doing their job. The hairstylist apologised, noticing Hyunjin’s sour expression, “Sorry. Eunwoo said we need to get started on your hair right now; the other boys are already ready.” Hyunjin nodded, letting himself be manhandled by three different women as they struggled to put his hair into braids, “Have you been using the product we gave you?”

“Hmm?”

“Your hair’s thinning out, especially the bleached roots” The lady mumbled, disappointed.

“Yeah, I have” Truthfully he’d forgotten, a grave mistake for someone in his industry, but he’d been too caught up in everything else. His stomach rumbled and he hadn’t had time to grab breakfast this morning, so he looked around until he spotted one of their assistants, “Rowoon, could you please get me some honey butter chips—”

“Stay still, please” The makeup assistant repeated. Hyunjin straightened up, speaking through his teeth, “…or ramyeon?”

Rowoon looked at him through the mirror, eyebrows shooting up, “Um. Are you sure? You have a pre-recording tomorrow”

“I…haven’t eaten since last night” Hyunjin replied.

“Last time you ate it…your face got pretty swollen, and you were pretty beat up about not looking great in the music show” Rowoon said, grimly smiling.

Hyunjin nodded, gut hurting at that memory of his swollen face, “Right. Never mind. Forget it. Thank you”

“How long are we filming for today?” Jisung asked, adjusting his headset in the back. Rowoon looked between them, “Well, you guys are booked until 4 PM”

Hyunjin’s eyebrows shot up, and he glanced at his phone. 6:43 am. Fuck.

Changbin walked by, patting Hyunjin on the shoulder, slipping toffees into his palm, “That’ll fill you up before the interviews”. The candy looked less than appetising, but it was his only option, and he reached to eat some, just as the lady stopped him to apply lip tint to his mouth. Today was going to be a long fucking day.

They were almost done with his hair, braiding it at the top of his head, secured with glitter barrettes. It was an elaborate hairstyle, and he feared he’d ruin it if he moved. It was like walking on eggshells, like his slightest touch would crumble things. Well, everything already seemed to be crumbling. Hyunjin hadn’t been in the best of moods since his talk with Eunwoo, and the possibilities of how everything could go wrong loomed over him. The worst he’d feared for was already happening, things set in motion and no matter what he did, he couldn’t stop it from worsening. The company knew your name. They knew of your existence. They’d already restricted him. There’s no way in hell Hyunjin would be able to bring you to Seoul, much less meet you in this city without a hundred documents or cameras being thrown at you. Slowly, all his happiness that had been built up carefully and precisely, was turning into bitterness.

“Have you seen Chan?” Rowoon asked, in the reflection of the vanity mirror. Hyunjin shook his head. He’d been sitting on this chair for forty five minutes straight. How the hell would he know where Chan was? The hunger and frustration was getting to him, and he shook his head, calming himself down.

“May I go now?” He looked up at the hair assistant.

She nodded, “Just no quick movements. The hairspray is still settling in”

Now that he could properly look at himself, it looked good. Having longer hair always set him at the mercy of experimentation for new styles, and often crazy accessories. He smiled at them, pushing the chair back to stand, “Of course. Thank you so much for your hard work. It’s beautiful”

In other circumstances, he’d snap a picture and send you, but…he’d been on eggshells with you too. Inadvertently, the conversation with Eunwoo had created distance. Hyunjin hated that because none of this was your fault. You shouldn’t be subject to this silence from him, but he was constantly looking over his shoulder, paranoid that he’d be caught and it was getting tiring. His carelessness at the party had led to this. He wanted to fully blame himself for not having any self-control when he drunk called you. Yet, a part of him knew that even without the doomed phone call, somehow everybody would have found out anyway. It was only a matter of time. Things never stayed stable for too long in his life.

He walked into the hallway, hoping to find an empty room. There were usually a few reserved for stage props. He could have a few moments to himself, just to talk to you. That could calm him down, and he could apologise for his distance. He didn’t know how he’d begin to explain what was happening to you. To anybody else, it’d seem like he was pushing you away and he hoped you understood that it was never his intention.

A door was ajar, sliver of light leaking out into the hallway. He stopped in his tracks, familiar voices inside. He didn’t meant to eavesdrop, but they were so loud, “What do you want me to say? I’m doing absolutely everything I can! Jisung’s trial is already—”

“Don’t bring Jisung into this…” Kairi’s exasperated voice interrupted, “What’s going on with him is different. You always do this, Chris! Why are you making this your problem?”

“I’m sorry? They’re my bandmates. They’re my friends. Of course I’m going to take their burden!”

“Jisung is an adult, he’s perfectly capable of—“

“I made a promise to all of them, Kairi. I’m not jumping ship when they need me the most” Chan sounded so frustrated.

She groaned, “I’m not asking you to jump ship. But Chris you haven’t slept in three fucking days! You’re…barely eating. This is not living”

Hyunjin didn’t know that, and his blood ran cold at the information as Chan replied, “This isn’t your problem Kairi. It’s…my problem to deal with. I have to make sacrifices—”

“I had to quit my job because of you, Chris!” She trailed off, Hyunjin’s eyes widened, and he flinched at the aggressive tone. He wasn’t new to their arguments, especially over the last month, but none were like this. This felt like the culmination of something that had been building for months, even years. Kairi was always so sweet, and her volume returned to normal, “I mean…I had to quit because of us. I made sacrifices too. So yes, it is my problem”

Chan’s voice dropped, “Well, I don’t want you to make sacrifices for me”

“That’s what people do when they love each other. I’m sorry but that’s just a reality you’re going to have to accept Chris”

“Do we…have to talk about this now? The interviews start soon, and I can’t focus on them—” 

“I’m so worried about you, Channie. I don’t know how you’re going to make it through the morning”

Chan groaned, “I don’t know either, but I have to do it for the boys. I can’t…let them down”

Hyunjin’s chest ached now, a different kind of pain settling in. Why were they all making sacrifices for each other? They were only in their twenties, pushing for their dreams; this instability shouldn’t be normal.

Kairi sighed, “See, that’s exactly the problem. Why do you always take the blame for everything? Even when Hyunjin was gone, you made it your mission to do damage control for him. Not everything has to be your burden”

At the mention of his name, he really should walk away and learn to mind his own business, but he couldn’t help but overhear, feet rooted to the floor as Chan’s voice softened with a new desperation and frustration, “They mean everything to me. You know that”

“They do to me too, Chris. I know this is a horrible time”

“Hyunjin?” He heard Jisung’s voice call for him in the hallway. He needed to head back. An entire press and interview team was waiting for them, only a few rooms over and if he listened any further, he’d be in no state of mind to answer questions. But of course as he stepped away, he picked up on the last bit of conversation, “Did you know HR gave Hyunjin the papers?” Chan laughed bitterly, “They’re already prepared for the worst”

Kairi sighed, and he could hear her footsteps as she moved closer to Chan. Only dread filled his stomach as he heard the next sentence out of her mouth, “That’s their job. You have to not make it your problem this time, Chan, I’m…so worried about your health. And that’s Hyunjin’s responsibility. He knew what he was getting into when he started seeing her. It was bound to happen. It always does.”

Hyunjin didn’t stick around to hear Chan’s response.

He had heard enough.

»»————-

“Hyun, can I come see you?”

The question was expected, but Hyunjin was shocked when you said it anyway. He froze, choking at his words. A few days ago, he would have been overjoyed at this. After all, he’d already bought the tickets and made all the arrangements for you to come see him, but…things had changed. It was too risky. He didn’t have the heart to tell you about his conversation with Eunwoo. What was the point after all? Hyunjin let out an awkward fucking chuckle, “W-what?”

“Um, sorry that sounds out of nowhere. I just…I really want to meet you. I miss you, and it sounds like you’re going through a lot. Maybe it’ll help.” Your voice was far away, drenched in longing.

It wasn’t out of nowhere, it was only what Hyunjin had been planning since forever. But nothing went to his fucking plans, “I…I’m not sure, Y/N”

Your voice deflated, disappointed, “Yeah?”

His heart broke, but it had become increasingly clear that it would be the dumbest idea ever to have you come visit. If anybody saw them…if anything got out…he wasn’t prepared to deal with that, “Yeah. Fuck, I’m so sorry but I…I don’t think I can meet you. Right now, with everything that’s going on, I honestly don’t have the time and…”

“Yeah. I understand” Of course you understood, no matter how shitty Hyunjin kept behaving. For once, he wished you’d actually yell at him.

“I’m sorry” He swallowed, and he could feel the life being sucked out of him.

Your response was sweet as usual, “It’s okay. It’s bad timing”

“It’s bad timing” He repeated, and Hyunjin suddenly had a horrible feeling that maybe this was the last straw. Things had slipped out of his control. Soon, eventually, you would too.

»»————-

The seasons were changing, but flowers bloomed all year long in Seoul, and so Hyunjin had prepared early. He’d bought the Camellia seeds so he could grow winter flowers on his own, and see their life unfold before his eyes. Even if everything else seemed to be falling apart, at least he could try to be consistent and paint his feelings away. The yellow falling leaves and orange tree cover taken over the city inspired his many paintings. Usually, you’d send him pictures of every little detail from back home, especially of changing landscapes and beautiful natural sights of town, but you hadn't shared anything the past week. He wondered what autumn would look like in Daejon. Now that his conversations with you were thinning out, he had an irrational fear that he’d never find out. 

“Everything okay?”

“Sorry?” Hyunjin snapped out of it, and Changbin looked at him, concerned. “You’re in your head again. Is something bothering you?”

Hyunjin squeezed his eyes shut, and sighed, “No, I’m good”

Changbin clearly wasn’t convinced, because his expression softened, and he reached a hand out, “Hey, why don’t you go wait in the car? I’ll bring the Americano out to you”

But he was so past being taken care of or worried about. So Hyunjin shook his head. The idea of waiting in the car sounded absolutely horrible right now. He needed fresh air, and he was perfectly capable of getting his own cup of coffee.

“No, I got this. Why don’t you let me get this for us?” Hyunjin asked, pushing his hands deeper into his jacket pockets. It was getting colder by the day, and even in this temperature-controlled cafe, he was cold to the bone. Changbin grinned, shooting him a cheesy wink, “Well, I’ll never say no to being treated by you”

A smile tugged at Hyunjin’s lips. Changbin could find the brevity in each situation. Hyunjin walked up to the cashier, placing an order for their usual. “Could I have two coffees, black, please?” He asked. The cashier, a girl probably in her 20s, smiled wide at Hyunjin, “Is that all?”

He glanced at the pastry counter, and everything looked so appetising. Yet he was on a diet and couldn’t afford to do this. Everybody would be so disappointed in him, “No, that’s all”

“Sorry, but do…I know you?” She asked, punching in his order. Hyunjin’s brows shot up, and he thought he’d concealed his identity enough with the hat, but clearly the rest of his expensive outfit was a dead give-away that was he was some big shot. They had another schedule after this, so they were dressed up and he was draped head-to-toe in luxury items, “Um. I just have one of those faces, I guess”

The girl didn’t look convinced, “Right…I’ll have your coffee out in a few minutes”

He stepped aside, joining his friend to the side. Changbin had a huge grin on his face still and Hyunjin was thankful to have his positivity surround him, “That chick was totally flirting with you”

“What?” Hyunjin shook his head, pushing the receipt in his coat pocket, “She barely said two words. You think everyone’s flirting with me”

“Well, why are her and all her friends giggling and looking at you?” Changbin rolled his eyes. Hyunijn looked back, and sure enough, the cashier and her coworkers were looking at him. Maybe they shouldn’t have come in here today. It was too close to the comeback. He shook that thought from his head. He was desperate for coffee.

“Excuse me, sir? Your coffee is ready” The girl said, and Hyunjin stepped back up. She was smiling, flushing red under her uniform cap, and as she handed them the cups he noticed a piece of paper stuck to it. Changbin glanced at it, eyes widening as they stepped away, “Is that her number?”

“I don’t know” Hyunjin mumbled, unfurling the paper. This definitely was the most romantic way he’d been asked out. It was her Instagram handle, and a note was stuck to it, Hope you liked the coffee, handsome. Maybe we could get a stronger drink later tonight? 

“Wow” Hyunjin’s brows shot up, and he pushed the note into his pocket too. It’d be thrown away later, “That’s…certainly a bold move”

“Please tell me you’re going on that date”

Hyunjin shook his head, amused at how light-hearted dates and budding love could be for Changbin, “I…have plans”

“What plans? You’re a recluse”

“I was going to talk to Y/N tonight—” He trailed off, eyes landing on someone familiar in the crowd. Hyunjin’s breath hitched.

It was a while since he’d seen her. Years, at this point.

She was sat at a far table, laughing over a cup of coffee and croissants. She seemed better than she had in years. Happier than she’d ever been around Hyunjin. Right now, she was glowing. The cause of her happiness seemed to be a boy sitting across her. A guy dressed in flannel and suit pants, chunky glasses on his face. Hyunjin couldn’t look away as the boy leaned forward, kissing her cheek quickly. She smiled, and then the cashier called out, “Coffee for Yujin”

She kissed the boy before standing up. She walked towards them, and Hyunjin was still standing stupidly at the counter. She noticed him, eyes widening, coming to a stop. Almost instantly, the life drained from her face. 

A stark difference from a moment ago, when she was so happy. Hyunjin didn’t know what to do; he raised a hand; a small, non-threatening wave. Things between them had ended in peace, after all. Yujin’s face traversed many expressions before she settled on a calm look, “Hyunjin. Wow…hi. This…is such a surprise. Hello…Changbin”

Hyunjin nodded, hoping this interaction wasn’t being watched, “It’s…been a while, Yujin”

She was still beautiful, smiling to diffuse the tension, “I didn’t expect to see you around here”

Hyunjin nodded, hands squeezing his coffee cup, “Yeah. I…don’t come here too often”

She nodded, familiarity returning to her gaze, “Ah. Too easy to get recognised?”

Hyunjin nodded along, even though that wasn’t the reason. He hated how his life seemed to revolve around his fame, and not his choices, like maybe he didn’t come here because he just liked another coffee shop more. Changbin took over, noticing the awkward shift in Hyunjin, “Um, so how have you been, Yujin? You look good!”

She smiled at him, “I’m great. I’m actually doing really well… I, uh, moved out of the city, closer to the outskirts”

“Really?” Hyunjin asked. He wondered why she would make such a decision. She’d trained with him for years, until she’d suddenly dropped out of the idol industry, but back when Hyunjin knew her and dated her, they had the same ambitions. The same thirst to be recognized, to be respected, and known for their talent. That’s why they had got along so well.

“Hmm, the city got too much for me sometimes. Anyway after I met Haru, it just seemed like the right choice to make”

“Haru. Is that…your boyfriend?” Hyunjin asked, noticing the boy back at the table. 

“Well…” She giggled, lifting her hand up to show them the glittering, gorgeous ring, “Fianc��, actually”

Changbin’s eyes widened, “You’re engaged?”

She nodded, a dimple in her cheek, “Haru asked me a few months ago”

Hyunjin forced himself to smile, but there was a deep pit in his stomach, recalling the conversations they used to have back in their days as trainees. They were never that serious to talk about weddings, or marriage. They both knew it was only an attraction between them and would stay that way, but he remembered a specific conversation where Yujin had said that the only disadvantage of becoming famous was the love life they’d be giving up. He was happy for her now. She hadn’t had to give it up after all, “Congratulations, Yujin. That’s…really good”

“Never too early to settle down, am I right?” She laughed, “What about you, Jinnie? How have you been?”

“I’m…good too. So…what are you doing these days?” He redirected the conversation back, curiosity brimming at him. What did someone do once they’d left the idol life? They were free to do absolutely anything, the choices were limitless. He’d never known a life without rules. He’d been training since he was fourteen, after all. She shrugged, “I’m doing a bit of everything. I volunteered at an organisation for a while, I tested my hand at photography, modelling even, but then I realised I really don’t want to be around cameras of any kind” She laughed, “I teach now, though”

“That sounds really nice, Yujin. I’m glad you get to do something you love”

“Well, you too! You’re absolutely thriving, Hyunjin. I see you every day with all your brand deals and advertisements. Does it ever get tiring being pretty all the time?”

Hyunjin smiled, “It’s…part of my job”

“Well, you deserve it. I remember how focused you used to be. You were my motivation, you know? It should have been obvious that life wasn’t for me. I hated everything. My favourite part of the academy used to be seeing you” At those words, the boy, Haru joined her, slipping an arm around her waist, “Everything all right, baby?”

She glanced at him, “Shit, I totally forgot to get the coffee. Just ran into some old friends”

Haru laughed, “Don’t worry, I’ll get it for us, babe.” He kissed her again, with no hesitance of being seen by so many people, and went to pick up the drinks. Changbin conversed with Haru, as Yujin asked Hyunjin, “I read that you went on a break for a couple of months. That must have been…wow, relieving?”

He swallowed, “Yeah, it was really good, but…I’m back to work now”

“That must’ve been nice. I don’t know how you do it, Hyunnie. I remember when we training together, you wouldn’t leave the practice room for days. Still the same?”

Hyunjin nodded. Yujin had changed so much from when he’d last met her. Had he changed at all?

Haru smiled at him, “Thank you for taking good care of her then. She tells me about those days a lot. It must have been thrilling to keep it a secret from everyone”

Hyunjin shook his head, smiling politely at him, “It was terrifying actually” 

They laughed. Haru pulled Yujin into his side again as she said, “Well…this was unexpected, but if your schedule permits, you and the boys are always welcome to the engagement party. It’s the end of December”

Changbin sighed dramatically, “Unfortunately, we’re working the whole month”. Yujin frowned, “That’s terrible….I would suggest catching up after that but…me and Haru are going to be gone for three months”

“Oh, where are you going?” Changbin asked.

“Backpacking through Europe” She responded chirpily, “Haru’s really into art and sculptures, so we have this silly idea to visit every museum in Paris”

“That sounds really good” Hyunjin smiled, but he was drowning so deep in his thoughts he could barely focus. What a nice life. It was strange, the last time he saw her, she was in the same boat as him. Training to be an idol, like him. But their paths had diverged, and envy settled in him. He was so lucky to have his life, but he wished he could just take off like that too on vacation, no questions asked. Changbin’s phone buzzed and he apologised, ”Um sorry to stop this, but we gotta go. Eunwoo’s calling us back in to work”

Hyunjin nodded, “Oh, of course. It was great to meet you Yujin, and you too, Haru. Congratulations again, on the engagement. I hope you have a good time in Europe. I’m really happy for you”

Suddenly the expensive bracelets he was wearing felt like shackles around Hyunjin’s wrists. 

»»————-

A fire burned within him, a quiet inferno consuming his peace. He couldn’t stop thinking about Yujin and what her life was like now. She’d rebuilt it to something so special. She would never have that peace of life if she’d stayed in her company or with Hyunjin. He sat at the company table, signing albums, and it was a monotonous task so his thoughts kept drifting. 

“Jinnie. Your phone” Jisung mumbled, poking him with a pen. Hyunjin lift his head to see it buzzing across the table. You were calling. He took a breath, walking out to talk to you. You were the only thing that could make this horrible fucking day better. He hoped you weren’t still upset at him rejecting your offer to come to the city. Hopefully, you’d understand. Everything was too treacherous. Hyunjin…was too treacherous for you right now. Still, he listened to you about your day, and how you’d apparently made up with Yongbok. He smiled, lowering his voice as employees passed him in the corridor, “What did you guys do?”

As you told him everything he wished he was doing with you instead, Hyunjin faded into thought again until you said, “Um…and something else happened. When we were talking, Yongbok said something…He told me he loves me. That he has his entire life”

He wished he was more surprised.

A cynical stupid part of him was happy at this. So Yongbok finally told you. Bitterness settled into his veins, scorching him from the inside out, and Hyunjin found himself thinking that maybe with Yongbok, you could finally have the life he couldn’t give you.

When he got home that night, he realised the hydrangeas in his room had withered away completely.

»»————-

He woke to fresh flowers on his desk. Baby blue, lilac, pink and white. All shapes and colors. The scent is what woke him up. It starkly contrasted to the dying hydrangeas that he still hadn’t thrown away. He’d been meaning to draw them in that state. A cruel render of their destruction. 

The comeback was in a few days. Their album would finally be out to the public. There was so much to do today, and he lay in bed just a little longer to enjoy the temporary peace. A press conference was underway soon, and he would have to put on his best self. It was going to be live-streamed and there were no doubts that he’d be asked about the hiatus. He worried if the music would be well received, if it would surpass everyone’s expectations. Hyunjin finally crawled out of bed and read the little notes attached to the bouquets. Congratulations on your 4th successful studio album. Never forget how lucky and blessed you are~!

He walked into his kitchen, sweatpants hanging low, sleep clouding him, to see even more flowers on the island. “Who sent these?” He asked, rubbing his eyes.

Jisung looked sorrowful though, ignoring the bouquets entirely.

“What’s wrong?” Hyunjin asked, the worst scenarios playing in his head.

He swallowed, “They broke up”

His stomach was a pit at the news, “When?”

“Late last night. Chan…still hasn’t come home yet. We have no idea where he is”

“What? How do you know they broke up?”

“Kairi texted Binnie. She was worried. We can’t find him anywhere…”

“I’m going to call him" Hyunjin said, rushing to his room.

“We already tried that, Jinnie” Changbin spoke, “We’ve been trying since an hour”

“Maybe he’ll pick up my call” Hyunjin hoped, as the ringer rang in his ear. After eight rings, Chan did pick up. “Hello, Chan?” Hyunjin asked, voice soft. Jisung and Changbin moved closer, eyes wide as they observed him. Chan sounded low on the other end, “Jinnie…? Is everything okay?”

“Yes. I’m okay. Where are you, Channie? Are you all right?”

“I’m…fine. Don’t worry. I’ll be back in time for the conference”

“No, can I please come get you? Let me” Hyunjin pleaded. There was a pause, and a sigh and then Chan said, “I’m at the old dorm”

“I’ll be right there” Hyunjin hung up.

“No, we’re coming with” Jisung said, stepping ahead.

“Guys. Let me…just do this on my own. Eunwoo would kill us if none of us are here. Me and Chan will make it to the press conference, I promise”

Hyunjin couldn’t drive fast enough. For a second, he worried he would forget the way to their old house but it was embedded into him. It’s where they’d had their whole beginning, and Hyunjin got there in record time. Kairi meant everything to Chan, and he couldn’t imagine what he’d be feeling right now. Chan was always there for him, and he felt personally responsible to make sure he was all right. The old dorm building looked run-down; it had been falling apart for years, even when the boys lived there, and he chose the stairs over the rusty old elevator. On the fourth floor, there was an alcove. It was hidden behind a door that was sometimes locked, but he pushed it open. Chan was sitting inside, on the window seat, a soft smile on his face when he saw Hyunjin approach.

“Just you?” He tilt his head, seeing nobody else follow, “I thought the cavalry would show up”

Hyunjin shot him a soft smile, leaning against the door, “Just me….can I join you?”

Chan pat the empty seat next to him, and Hyunjin sat down. This is where Chan was always found, back when they still lived here. It’s where he came to think. To write their greatest hits. To ponder about life’s biggest mysteries. It was always his place, and Hyunjin could see why he loved it so much. It was hidden, like a secret room. Ignoring the cobweb in the corner, it was cosy. A faded old painting hung on the wall, rickety floorboards that probably hid treasures inside, a window that looked out onto an alley. The alley was something special in itself. It was between two apartment buildings, and a little bakery was carved into the side of the building. The few times Hyunjin sat here with Chan, he’d seen bakers arrive at three in the morning, loading powdered sugar and other ingredients in, creating storms and clouds of sugar. It was always a beautiful sight.

“What happened, Chan?” Hyunjin ended up asking, cutting to the chase. They both knew why he was here. Chan swallowed, looking wistful, “I’m fine, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m going to be okay. I just needed…a day to let the sadness out”

“You can take more than that” 

“Not really. I can’t afford to, not this week. I gotta put on my best self”

“We’ll understand if you don’t.” Hyunjin frowned, admirable of Chan’s resolve, “If you want to talk about it, I’m here” Chan glanced at him, a smile on his face, “I know you are, Jinnie. You’re actually the best, and the worst person to talk to this about”

“Why the worst?” Hyunjin frowned.

Chan laughed, “You don’t want to hear the good part first?”

“No…”

“The worst because…I know what you felt about me and Kairi… I feel responsible for how you see the world, crazy as that sounds. I know you had to hear our arguments the past few weeks, I’m sorry about that. I feel like I took away all your hope.”

Hyunjin swallowed, “It’s not your fault. I’ve had minimal hope to begin with”

Chan laughed, loudly, “God, Jinnie, that’s really fucked up, you know? It shouldn’t be this way. We should be out there, showing our girls the best time”

“You shouldn’t apologize to me for your break up, Chan,” Hyunjin emphasized.

“Wow. Breakup. That sounds insane to say” He breathed in a sigh, as it was finally settling in, “To think I was going to ask her to marry me in a few months”

Hyunjin felt emotional. He’d known and adored their relationship for the longest time, “I’m so sorry, Chan. I don’t know what to say, I wish I could…make this better”

“You don’t have to. I’m…happy you’re here. Kim Soohyun asked to see my phone last night. I don’t know why, but I deleted every conversation with Kairi. I suppose I panicked. I shouldn’t have done that, because now all my best memories with her are just that…memories”

Hyunjin swallowed, and maybe all the reading poetry had rotted his brain. His heart was starting to shrivel, just like the Hydrangeas that were out of bloom. Once he got home, maybe it was the right move to erase his chat history with you too. A small way of shielding himself from the damage that could follow. His memories with you would be lost, but his carelessness would only hurt the boys more.

Chan reminded him far too much of you, the way he held onto memories, objects, and tangible things with an iron grip. He recalled how sad you’d felt erasing the little star you’d drawn from Hyunjin’s face. It had meant so much to you. Maybe he was becoming more like you every day too, which is why the dying flowers still rested on Hyunjin’s desk when he should have thrown them out weeks ago. He ended up saying something that only halfway made sense, “I want to say that…the things we’re meant for will always come back to us, but… I stray further from that thought every day, so I would be lying if I tried to convince you of that” 

Chan smiled sadly, and he held something within his hands, “You’re the most romantic person I know, even without trying to be”

Hyunjin laughed, bitterly, “I think it’s safe to say I’m doomed”

Chan turned to him, “Don’t say that, Jinnie”

Hyunjin shook his head, facing him, “I came here for you, not to talk about me…you know you have me, always, right?”

“I know” Chan leaned in, wrapping his arm around Hyunjin. It was an awkward half-hug but Hyunjin relaxed into the embrace, whispering, “I’m so sorry it didn’t work out with Kairi”

Chan pulled away, a sincere smile on his face, “Thank you. We should probably get going if we want to make it in time for the conference”

“You’re right” Hyunjin nodded, but they made no attempt to move, trying to lengthen this short-lived peace.

“Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it.” Chan muttered, and it’s only then that Hyunjin realised what he held in his palm. A diamond ring. The one he was going to propose to Kairi with.

“What?” 

“What our lives are like. Do you never question that?” Chan asked. Hyunjin had never heard him talk like this, and he couldn’t comprehend this. Chan had built them up from the ground up, worked his ass off to get them to where they are. In fact, he couldn’t bear to see this side of him. He shouldn’t be questioning all his hard work, or that all would have been for nothing. Out of all people in the world, Chan couldn't be the one to lose hope. He was their rock.

He felt for Chan. So much. Yet, this train of thought was so dangerous. What would happen to them if they all started hating their job? They had never been forced into this career, they’d made their choices of their own volition, even if it was done as a teenager who didn’t know what he’d be giving up, but they’d gained so much too. The lifestyle Hyunjin led…people would kill for. 14-year-old him would kill for this. And he’d be so proud of him for it too. So, why was he questioning everything now? 

“No, I don’t” Hyunjin said. It was a lie, but he would sell it to Chan, for his sake, “We’re doing something impossible for most people to even imagine in the world. The impact that you have on people is…unreal. Millions of people love you, and you inspire them. You inspire me to work harder everyday. So, I don’t question if it’s worth it, and you shouldn’t either, Chan”

Something in Chan’s eyes changed, as if he had never expected him to say this. Hyunjin, the romantic, would never have said that. Love felt like the core of his life. He was hungry for it, but there was more than one kind of love.

So later that week, when Hyunjin stared at his phone in his hands, it was filled up with memories of you. Every phone call, each picture you’d sent him, each sweet thought he’d scribbled in his notes but never had the chance to send you. The press tour had already begun, and the boys were knee-depth in stress, and Hyunjin could never let himself add to that. Kairi had talked about sacrifices, and he finally understood it. Maybe it was cowardly to never explain to you what was happening, but it was easier. He didn’t have the heart to delete the past few months, so he took Eunwoo’s advice and changed his number instead.

Sorrow settled in his chest as Hyunjin realised that he would go to the ends of the earth for you, but perhaps that wasn’t still enough. He wasn’t willing to give this life up, and this was a sacrifice he was going to have to make.

»»————- Present Day. 

You only had the moonlight to guide you tonight.

There were hardly any streetlights this far out. It was pitch black, and the glow of the moon fell upon Hyunjin’s face, tracing each contour perfectly. You were trying real hard to not look at him. He was drumming his fingertips against the steering wheel and it was annoying. It kept grabbing your attention, and you’d glance at him only to remember you couldn’t do that anymore. You couldn’t spend time marveling at his little mannerisms because…things had changed. 

All you could do was listen to the conversations of the backseat. Chan was mumbling something to Kairi, and their voices had dropped in volume since you’d pulled out of the parking lot. Each syllable was spoken in a whisper, like it was a secret between them, and you felt like you were eavesdropping. Still, there was not much else to focus to. You definitely were not going to focus on the boy sitting next to you.

“I know that it could’ve been better…but I hope that you still had a good time today” Chan said softly, and through the rearview mirror, you saw that they’d laced their hands together. Kairi was leaning into him, fingers interlocked, and you looked down at your hands. The empty spaces between your fingers bothered you. 

“I did, Chris” Her eyes were closed, but she smiled, “Honestly, it was a pretty special birthday”

You averted your gaze, giving them privacy. Hyunjin kept glancing in the mirror briefly before looking back to the road. There was a small smile on his lips. He used to talk about them so much. He must be happy with this outcome. You didn’t know the details of what had gone wrong with their relationship, you’d never pried, but it must have been hard getting back together after all that heartbreak and pain.

“I’m…really fucking tired. I might pass out any second” Kairi announced, followed by a yawn.

“Don’t worry. Hyunjin is a smooth driver” Chan reassured, “Isn’t he?”

Hyunjin nodded, eyes flickering to Chan’s, “Of course. And um, Kairi, if you’re cold, I have an extra jacket in the backseat”

There was rummaging and then Kairi gasped, having found the jacket, “This is so stylish. I missed your clothes, Jinnie”

“Hey, hey. What are you trying to imply?” Chan complained. Kairi giggled, and Hyunjin laughed, “Your girlfriend is a fan of color, Chan. That’s not my fault”

“How predictable of you” Chan mumbled, and you could see him rolling his eyes. You drifted out of their conversation, looking out the window at the passing landscape. Trees drifted by in a blur and there was hardly any civilisation out here. Miles and miles of nothing. 

“Don’t you agree?” Kairi laughed, hand landing on your shoulder, and she was talking to you.

“Sorry?” You asked, “Agree with what?”

“Fuck. Did I wake you?” She apologised, “I didn’t realise you fell asleep”

“No, no, I’m up. I was just distracted….” You replied, clearing your throat. This conversation warranted another glance from Hyunjin, as if he was checking to see what you were distracted by. You returned his gaze with indifference, raising your eyebrows. He immediately looked away, back to the road.

“Well, I was telling Chris that your friends, Minnie and Jamie are one of the cutest couples I’ve ever met. I mean, I hardly see relationships that strong here; people are usually just serial daters” Kairi explained.

“Oh. Right” You nodded, thankful to have the context, “They’re…really cute, yeah”

“A serial dater?” Chan asked.

“Yeah. Dating apps will do that to you, especially in midtown. Take my advice now, never get on one, you’ll be fighting in the trenches” Kairi laughed. The trees were whizzing past so fast it made you dizzy, you mumbled, “It’s funny. Dating apps could never work back home”

“Cause you know everyone? Is that really true?” She asked. You nodded, “I mean, yeah. You go to school with the people technically in your dating age range, and there are only five restaurants and hang-out spots, so you’re always bumping into each other. It’s impossible to not know everyone”

“Was that ever weird?” Kairi asked, “Like seeing your ex at dinner or something?”

A small laugh escaped you, “It actually sucked. You couldn’t escape them”

“Did you ever run into her exes?” Chan asked, and it took you a second to realise the question was directed at Hyunjin. It took him a few seconds and he sat up straighter, mumbling quietly, “No.”

You blinked at his nonchalance, trying not to let this phase you. This could be a normal car ride if you just let it. Suddenly your gut was hurting with anxiety and you looked out the window again, away from him.

“Well, thankfully, I’ve never had to deal with that,” Chan spoke, “Eunwoo would have a heart attack if one of us was found on those apps. Although there’s quite a few fake profiles out there with Hyunjin’s face on them”

“Eunwoo?” You asked, ignoring the second part of his statement. It sent jealousy surging through you. Why did you feel jealous by even the thought of Hyunjin being on a dating app? You needed to get a grip on your emotions. 

“Ah. Hyunjin didn’t tell you?” Chan asked, so casually, “Eunwoo’s…our manager, of sorts”

Without thinking, you spoke, “I thought your manager was the lady in the shop”

“What shop?” Chan frowned, confused, “Wait, hold up. You’ve met one of our managers, Y/N? Where was that?” You stayed silent, for only a second, wondering if Hyunjin would answer this question. After all, he knew the manager and they were in the shop for a reason. The one where he had ignored you completely, as if you didn’t exist. You were only there by accident, after losing your way trying to find the Atelier. To your relief, Hyunjin did speak, “Yeah. That was Mrs. Giwon…she was accompanying me on one of the snack runs”

“Ah” Kairi exclaimed, “She’s…the worst one”

“Hey” Chan spoke, “She’s really helpful sometimes”

“Anyway…moving on” Kairi rolled her eyes, “She kind of traumatised me after she busted us”

“Busted you?” You turned, intrigued. Kairi laughed, “She walked in on me and Chan making out in the studio! God, that day was hell. She like…actually yelled at me for not maintaining a professional attitude in their building”

“And that, of course…led to the no-girlfriend in the studio rule,” Chan mumbled, and through the rearview, you saw him roll his eyes. That seemed like an insane rule to have, especially for adults. You stole a glance at Hyunjin to catch his reaction. He looked straight ahead, as if he couldn’t even hear this conversation, laser-focused on driving the empty streets. Kairi laughed loudly, “Changbin was the most pissed about that!”

“He has a girlfriend?” 

“No. That man’s a serial dater, through and through. He’s too busy producing insane music to have a full relationship anyway. He goes through NDA’s faster than you can say hookup, but honestly…he enjoys himself so much. He’s…very popular with all the girls”

You wanted to ask so much more about that. NDAs…? So that was a truth and not a rumor. Hyunjin had never mentioned those to you. At the paint and wine event, Sakura and Yeosang had asked him about it, and he’d been cautious about answering. But it was true. All of it felt so silly. Their words came back to you. Imagine sleeping with someone and then signing a contract instead of some aftercare.

If you and Hyunjin had hooked up back in Daejon, would he have also made you sign an NDA? But he fingered you. He let you touch him. He let you cut his hair and give him a handjob in his little bathroom. Did that not ask for an NDA? Or did he just trust you enough? All the possibilities floated through your head, and stupidly, like a stupid girl, you blurted, “So what all does that NDA cover? Is it just sex or…is it like, making out and other things too? And it's legally required?”

At your question, Hyunjin’s grip on the wheel tightened. His shoulders tensed up. 

You’d struck a nerve. 

Good. 

It was satisfying to know you had some sort of impact on him. Till now, he was just pretending you didn’t exist. 

Kairi paused, pondering over it, “Um…pretty much just sex, but like…I didn’t have to sign an NDA every single time. It’s only if it’s with a new person"

“Right”

Chan laughed, “I know. It sounds crazy. Especially in the 21st century, but with the internet and everything, you can never be too careful what people will say in a public forum. Hyunjin, didn’t you hate them too when we started out?”

Hyunjin cleared his throat, “Yeah. It’s stupid”

So he would sign them too? How often did he sleep with a new girl? You didn’t want to think about this any longer. There was no point wondering about his past when you wouldn’t be in his future. Your phone buzzed against the console and you grabbed it, positioning it on the seat between your legs so you could read it. It was a text from Felix.

hey. i was just talking with minho and man, i miss you I know you’ve likely forgotten all about me but call me later please…I think ill die here without you

A smile pulled at your cheeks, and you typed in a quick reply.

im getting back from a party lixie. It was kairi’s birthday. i miss you guys too :(

“Who are you texting at this hour?” Kairi piped up, leaning ahead, “Nate?”. You immediately clicked your phone screen black, even though you had nothing to hide. You just shot her a smile, “Just… a friend from back home”

Hyunjin probably knew exactly who you were talking about, yet he didn’t react. His stone-cold demeanour was really beginning to bother you.

“So where were you guys, at the party? When we found you, you two were at the cabins” Kairi spoke, breaking the tension. You swallowed, wondering if he would answer but he obviously wasn’t interested in speaking so you said, “I was dancing. And then…I hurt myself. So Hyunjin took me to the cabin to find a bandaid”

That wasn’t exactly what had happened. You had conveniently skipped over your argument, and the two of you spying on them, but Hyunjin nodded along, following your lie, “Yeah. There were no first aid kits there though”

Kairi nodded, “Shit, yeah. We didn’t think anybody would use the cabins for anything other than sex…anyway, I was thinkingggg we should play some game. It’d be nice to kill the time.”

Chan reminded her, “I thought you were about to pass out, baby”

Kairi was full of energy now as she suggested, “Well, I’m wide awake now! I kind of want the celebration to last a little while longer. Y/N, you can pick a game, since you're my guest of honour! Do you know any good ones?”

It seemed like Kairi and Chan had absolutely no fucking idea what happened between you and Hyunjin. They knew you weren’t together, but it seemed like they knew nothing more than that. Hyunjin hadn’t told them any of the details. They only knew you’d ended things, but not why. By their ease, and comfort…it seemed like they didn’t even know Hyunjin had been the one to end things with you. The memory of that made your chest clench, with hurt.

The heartbreak felt so one-sided. Everything seemed so easy for him. Had you got everything wrong this summer? Had you read too much into his actions? You felt embarrassed, thinking back to the kind of things you’d said to him. You didn’t tell him you loved him, but you pretty much said everything else. He knew more about you than anybody else in your life, and now he wouldn't even talk to you. You’d been willing to move to the city for him, but he didn’t even bat an eye. Being in Seoul suddenly didn’t feel worth it anymore.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” 

“We still are two hours out of the city. It’d be fun to play something” Kairi said, glancing at the GPS on the console. Play something? Like a road trip game? This hardly felt like a road trip, it was far too depressing to be one. “I’m…good with anything” You spoke, “I’m kind of really tired”

“How about word association?” Chan suggested, “I used to play that with my family as a kid”

You realised he was waiting for your response so you nodded, “Sure. How does it go…? Is there a way to lose?”

“Only if you take longer than three seconds to answer. We go in a circle, Kairi can start with any random word, you have to say a word related to the previous one, and the person who can’t come up with something loses”

You weren’t really in the mood to play, but you would need more energy to protest. Plus, any time interacting with the back-seaters was time removed with the boy in the front seat. Kairi quickly explained the rules, and that it would go clockwise, starting with Hyunjin. He still hadn’t reacted to the idea of the game so you weren’t even sure if he was playing. Kairi hummed loudly, looking around for inspiration. Dark clouds were forming on the horizon so she naturally said, “Thunder!”

“Storm” You immediately said.

“Well, Hyunjin was supposed to go” Kairi laughed, “I’ll go again. Eclipse?”

“Cosmic” Hyunjin replied. A curt, short, emotionless answer. You realised you had to speak now. You mumbled, “Um…the stars”

“Marilyn Monroe” Chan said. Kairi laughed loudly, “Chris. What the hell?”

“What? She’s…a star” Chan defended. You smiled at their bantering. Kairi rolled her eyes, “No. That’s what’s called a Freudian slip”

“Excuse me?” Chan giggled, “Don’t psychobabble me. What even is that?”

Kairi laughed, “It’s this theory that if you accidentally say something wrong, you were thinking about it subconsciously. Most people are thinking about sex, so that’s what a lot of Freudian slips reveal”

“So what… you’re accusing me of wanting to sleep with Marilyn Monroe?” Chan frowned. She giggled, “No, I’m just saying that’s how it works, smartass. It usually reveals your repressed thoughts”

You glanced back at her, “Yeah. I guess that’s what this entire game is about. Although I really don’t think Freud has had the best ideas. Some of them are…really regressive” 

Kairi grinned at you, nodding aggressively and she was still tipsy from before, “You’re so right, honestly. Most of the people I played this game with had no idea what a Freudian slip was. You know, this is why we’re friends. You’re…so fucking cool. You’re just like me”

“Y/N is not just like you” Chan laughed loudly.

“Excuse me?” She gasped, offended, “You just met her. How would you even know what she’s like?”

Chan chuckled, “Yeah, but I’ve been hearing about her all summer—” He suddenly stopped, realising what he’d said. An awkward silence enveloped the car and you did everything not to look at Hyunjin. So… Chan had been hearing about you all summer. You knew Hyunjin had told the boys about you. You just wondered what he’d said. What did he know of you? Chan cleared his throat, embarrassed by his slip of the tongue, “I mean….never mind. Should we continue the game? Hyunjin. Why don’t you start?”

Hyunjin swallowed, adjusting his hands on the wheel, “Um. I don’t know. Sin?”

Your eyes widened at his word choice, and it was your turn to go next. Sin? What was he even thinking of? Your mind went through the seven deadly sins that you knew of, and you only had three seconds so you blurted, “Lust”

It was Chan’s turn now, and he blanked, eyes widening, “Uh…passion?”

You didn’t like this tangent of thought… and you waited for Kairi to say something. Chan teased, “Are you serious? You’re gonna lose”. She yelled, “Wait, wait. I know. Yearning!”

It was Hyunjin’s turn to play. His mouth parted, and he was about to say something, but instead he chose not to. He just shook his head, “I don’t know…I can’t really focus on the game when I’m driving”

Kairi sighed, “Can’t believe you lost on yearning, Hyunjin”

“Yeah. My mistake” He mumbled. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel. You didn’t really want to play this game anymore. You stared out the window, your reflection flickering in the window. You wanted to be home already, and not in this car where you felt like a stranger.

There was so much brevity and lightheartedness in the conversations between Chan and Kairi, and here you were…struggling to even get a proper hi out. You felt like a stranger, even to Kairi. You’d only known her for a few weeks, compared to them. The three of them felt like a unit, like a family that was finally complete again. Hyunjin had sang praises of their love, and you could see it now. It wasn’t anything grand or impossible, it was so casual and effortless. Kairi and Chan fit together like puzzle pieces, so perfectly, but even more than that, they enhanced each other so simply. There was no fear of misunderstandings, or betrayal. They were giggling in the back, laughing about some inside joke you’d never be able to understand. Perhaps you shouldn’t have accepted this ride. Kairi was your friend, but you weren’t really welcome here. You were an outsider. Chan must have wanted to keep the conversation going so he said, “So, Y/N, you were about to tell me about yourself when we got in the car” 

You swallowed, “Um, I didn’t know I was going to be doing that”

Kairi teased, “Yeah, Chan. I thought you knew all about her, and how me and her are so similar”

Chan giggled, “It was a figure of speech. No, but seriously, Y/N”

You bit your lip, and a deep sadness was overwhelming you. One you’d been trying to escape for months but it seemed impossible now. You’d genuinely enjoyed the party, until he’d showed up. He’d ruined everything. It had taken so long for you to not think about him. Now you felt like you were sinking again, “Um…what do you want to know? I came here to study art. There’s not really much to tell…You’re the one who has a really interesting life."

Chan frowned, “Come on. That’s not a real answer. I wanna know you, not answers you’d type in on some Facebook page”

You were at a loss for words, and you mostly just felt conscious around Hyunjin. You always hated introductions like this, and icebreakers, especially around someone you wanted to like you. Chan seemed amazing, he was brilliant so how could your little life possibly impress him? You’d done nothing that would have an impact on anyone, unlike them. Anything you say would be so boring. So you settled for a basic fact about yourself, a preface to your personality, “Well…I used to work in an art—”

“She’s a really good artist” Hyunjin suddenly interrupted you.

Your gaze snapped to his.

“Oh yeah?” Chan asked, surprised.

“Yup” Hyunjin cleared his throat, “She’s in the most prestigious program of the country” 

Chan smiled, “Wow. That’s…amazing, Y/N. You should be bragging about that stuff”

“There’s only like…25 people that get in from across the world” Hyunjin continued talking, staring right ahead so casually. There was a knot in your stomach, and he had the faintest of a smile on his face as he talked about you. It was more than he’d given you in the past hours, “She’s one of the few domestic students”

“What? You didn’t tell me that!” Kairi exclaimed, hand reaching out to tap you. But you were speechless, staring at Hyunjin. Why did he just do that?

“Well, now you’ve got to show me your art, Y/N!” Chan grinned, “Hyunjin’s got pretty high standards when it comes to those, so I’m curious”

You nodded, forcing a smile at him, “Yeah…um, maybe later”

“Well, I hope you taught Hyunjin something too” Chan laughed. 

Hyunjin nodded, and there was a hint of emotion as he spoke, “She did”

You chewed on your lower lip, fiddling with your jacket, thinking about his words, even long after he’d said them.

The barren highway enveloped the car in darkness, and the tiny GPS screen was the only light source. You stared ahead, watching the road lit up in the headlights, uncovering more of the unknown every second. There was nobody else out here. It was spooky, and you hated the feeling. You felt trapped in this metal contraption. Hyunjin’s fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel, a familiar rhythm, probably calming his nerves down. The backseat noise had died down, and it seemed like the tiredness had finally hit Kairi. The only indication of passing time was the clock on the dashboard. You watched it tick down every second, hoping it would go faster. The city was still so far out. You leaned back onto the seat, watching trees whiz past in silence. Hyunjin was so quiet you’d almost think he fell asleep. The only surmountable sound was the heating, and the tapping of his fingers. You closed your eyes, hoping the time would pass faster.

You couldn’t help but think of what was waiting for you. There was no lingering excitement. This party had been the only thing you’d been looking forward to for a while. There was so much work back in class, starting Monday. Kim Jieong was expecting so much from you. You felt emotionally drained. He was your only motivation, pushing you to get better. After all, there was nothing else waiting for you back there. 

Suddenly Hyunjin cleared his throat, drawing your attention. From your peripheral vision, you saw him reach for the radio, fingers hovering over the console, and then he looked to you, “Um…mind if I put something on?”

You blinked, distracted by how he looked in the glow of the light. His glasses were thin, hanging on his nose bridge, and his lips were pursed. He’d bitten them raw. Maybe you weren’t the only one anxious in this car. You shook your head, “Go ahead”

He pressed a button, and life filled the previously stagnant car. An announcer was talking, probably at an all-night radio station, and you asked softly, “Wouldn’t this wake them up?”

Hyunjin looked at you again, over the rim of his glasses, eyes meeting yours for another torturous split second. In the dark, they looked like pools of black, a darkened gaze as he spoke, “Uh, don’t worry. I turned the speakers in the back off. It’s only the front ones that are working”

Oh. You didn’t even know that was possible. They obviously had access to the best cars with the best technologies. Music began playing, a rock band from the 80s, and you rest your head again, closing your eyes to savour in this newfound peace. It was strange to sit next to the man you desired the most yet have no conversation. For the past few months, it had been impossible to separate you, and the irony of this moment didn’t fail to surprise you. You’d come all the way to Seoul for him. Yet the only sound in the car was Bon Jovi on the radio. 

“Um—”

“So—” You and Hyunjin both spoke at the same time.

“Sorry,” You apologised, “What were you about to say?”

He glanced at you, hand reaching out to the radio again, and you noticed he had new rings on his finger. They looked so expensive, glittering sparkles, and he must have bought them recently. He seemed nervous and he spoke, “I can…uh, change the music if you don’t like it”

Your eyebrows shot up. That clearly wasn’t what he was going to say. “No, it’s nice. I like him”

He nodded, retreating his hand and putting it back on the console. You wondered about the unspoken, but wondering would only kill you. So you shut your eyes again, hands warm in your lap, wishing to be somewhere else. The tune was thrilling. 

“80’s music is actually one of my favourites”

You opened your eyes to look at him, “Really?”

“Yeah. I think….their songs are pretty incomparable. I actually got a lot of inspiration for our album from them. I don’t know if you heard it; it’s very pop-rock heavy, which isn’t what we usually do” He spoke, a nervous wavering in his voice, as if you two were just getting to know each other. 

You observed him, “Is that what you were going to say earlier?”

“Sorry?” He looked right at you, dark eyes flickering over your features. You felt conscious of how you looked. You were still in his sweater, and your hair was still wet from the swim. You said, “Um…you were about to say something but decided not to. Was that it?”

Realisation sank into his face, lips parting, “No, I was…going to ask you how you met Kairi”

“Oh…” Disappointment filled you. What were you expecting to be said? An apology would be nice actually. Something to start with. You were having trouble grasping that things between you and him were truly over. They couldn’t be. Hadn’t he only come into your life yesterday, uprooting everything you thought you knew about yourself? Or maybe you were just desperately clinging on to a summer dream that wasn’t real.

“Sorry. Should I not have asked?” Hyunjin said. 

“No, that’s fine. It was just a crazy coincidence. We were at a bar…me and my friends, and somebody spilled a drink on her, I just happened to be there. I offered to help her. Obviously…I didn’t know who she was. Later, I realised it was Kairi”

“That’s…” Hyunjin’s fingers adjusted on the steering wheel, he spaced them out, glancing at you again, “That’s really nice of you”

“Yeah”

“Are you cold?” He asked.

“What? Um, no.” You shook your head awkwardly. His sweater was keeping you plenty warm.

“Okay”

The silence drowned you again, and you focused on the song playing, replaying the previous conversation in your head, clinging to it for life.

“I…tried Gouache” 

It took you a second to register that Hyunjin was talking to you, again.

Why was he making an effort after what went down earlier? You’d argued and fought, and now he was…trying to be nice? Was he trying to make amends? Did he finally realise what an asshole he’d been? Or were his memories of summer coming back to him too? Because every time you looked at him, all you could remember was the calmness of each moment you’d spent with him, and how his skin had felt to touch, and how his body had felt against yours, warm and comforting. How could he not be thinking of that?

“Sorry?” You glanced at him. 

He straightened up, hands clasped before him, “I…taught myself Gouache. I hadn’t explored it much before, but I had some time between schedules last month and I decided to give it a shot”

You didn’t know what to say. Gouache was such a difficult pigmented paint medium to work with. You stayed quiet, which somehow… he took a sign to continue speaking, “It was hard…but I found the supplies and tried many styles with it. I couldn’t get it right for the longest time but then realised I had the wrong brushes. I…think I prefer it to watercolor”

“Are you serious?”

He glanced at you, almost surprised that you’d replied even though he had been telling you all of this. He nodded, his lips a thin line.

“Gouache can never have the same effect, or…even replace watercolours. It’s…so much more intense. It loses all of its softness” You ended up saying.

“Have you worked with it before?”

“In class. I do all the time” You answered, “I don’t like it. I prefer acrylics or oil”

Hyunjin nodded, eyes zeroed in on you again, “Do you have the freedom to choose?”

“Choose what?”

“The material you want to paint with” He stated, simply. 

“Yeah. It’s up to us” You said.

Hyunjin just nodded, and then silently turned away. As did you. Queen was playing on the radio now, and you liked this song. Somebody to Love. It seemed like Hyunjin enjoyed this song too, because he reached ahead, his bracelets clinking together and he increased the volume just slightly. You glanced in the rearview mirror, and Kairi and Chan were still asleep, cuddled up to each other. Hyunjin was softly singing, under his breath, but he knew all the words. His voice brought a strange calmness to your body, warming it up.

“I can’t believe you tried Gouache” You mumbled, still thinking about it. You didn’t want to initiate conversation with him, not after everything he’d done to your heart. But you were so curious. It was really hard to work with, especially if someone was a beginner.

“Can I show you something?” He asked.

“What?”

He looked at you, a newfound energy in him, “The…paintings I’ve been working on”

“Unless you’re going to pull over—”

“They’re in my phone. You can just…see them there”

You glanced at his phone that lay on the console.

“Um…are you sure?” You reached for his phone, and it was strange that he completely trusted you with it.

“Yeah. I don’t mind. There’s nothing I have to hide from you. The password…I can just type it in” He grabbed it from you, entering random numbers that you couldn’t grasp the significance of, before handing his unlocked phone back to you. The wallpaper was a pretty sunset. You recognised the landscape instantly. It must have been the pictures he took on the Ferris wheel with Seungmin, back at the summer carnival. Memories of that flooded through you. It had been a perfect day. You recalled the photobooth pictures that lay in your sketchbook, Hyunjin had put them there for you to find. You still didn’t understand why, or how he got a hold of them. As far as you knew, he’d deleted them in front of your eyes. You glanced at him; his eyebrows were knitted as he concentrated on driving, still occasionally mouthing the words to the song. You may never get this chance again. “How’d you get those pictures?” You broke the silence.

It took him a second to comprehend your question, and he turned casually, “Hmm?”

In this angle, confusion on his face, nose scrunched up, he looked so tame, so innocent. You already wished to take back what you’d said, in case it ruin this strange peace. It was too late to back up now as he stared at you so you said, “In my sketchbook, I found the photobooth strip. The pictures of us kissing. I…thought you deleted them”

His eyes widened, and he turned back to the road, voice dropping low, “Oh… It doesn’t really matter, Y/N”

His response irked you. It reminded you again that this was futile, whatever you chased for with Hyunjin. “Yeah. It doesn’t” You agreed, looking back at his phone in your hands. You opened up his picture gallery. Everything was divided into little folders, and his entire life was so organised. If you were his girlfriend, would there be a folder for you in it too? You clicked on the one which was so fittingly named ‘Art’. You were annoyed at him but you couldn’t pretend, “Oh. These are…really good, Hyunjin”

He clearly gravitated towards drawing flowers and landscapes. Some of them were familiar, most of them were new. There were so many pictures of flowers, at all stages. He must be drawing from life. It seemed like he’d developed a lot of art ever since he’d come back. They were all so intense and bold, no softness to them that watercolour provided. You’d always thought that Gouache was something in between watercolour and acrylic, a strange midway compromise, yet Hyunjin had made masterpieces out of it, “You did all of these in Gouache?”

He only nodded in response, as you scrolled through the gallery.

“You’re crazy” You said.

Hyunjin let out a laugh, “You really hate it that much?”

“It’s just difficult to work with, but you’re actually really great at these” You stared at the art, and how his technique had improved. All his lines were more confident, pronounced, bolder. He’d gotten so much better in your absence. You’d only gotten worse in his.

“So…how’s the apprenticeship going? Is Kim Jieong as nice as you thought?” He asked. You put his phone back on the console, even though you urged to see everything he’d felt worth storing in his phone. He had asked you a question so you tried to focus on that, “Yeah. He’s really nice. He is so talented. I, um, asked him about the painting, by the way. The one we were talking about”

“The one about the lovers drowning in moonlight?”

You nodded, hands feeling jittery, unable to stomach this casual conversation, “Yup. He was surprised it was my favourite. He thinks I have morbid taste. And… the day he took us to your work building, he wanted us to meet some gallery curator”

“Must have been Karina”

“You know her?” You glanced at him, hoping your face didn’t give anything away. How petty of you to be jealous that he knew another girl. Another artist at that. 

“She’s the prodigy I was telling you about. She wants me to…exhibit some of my work at a gallery next month”

Your eyes widened, and you fiddled with the zipper on the jacket, “Oh. That’s…a big deal. Are you allowed to do that?”

He looked at you, “Yeah, the company and Eunwoo’s really supportive. The fans love it, so he thinks it’s a great stream of revenue and publicity. Any press is good press. He couldn’t care less about the art” 

“Right” You nodded, watching him, “Well, maybe Kim Jieong will make it a field trip for us again. Your exhibition”

Hyunjin’s lips tugged into a smile, “That’d be really embarrassing. I wouldn’t want all your professional artist friends to judge my work”

“Well…they’re not as pretentious as you might think. My friends…they’re really nice. Everybody’s not bad. I mean…it was hard settling in, but…I think I like it now” You were rambling, without meaning to share so much with him. Maybe you’d just been craving to have a real conversation with him all this while. After all, he was the only person in your life who understood, “And Kim Jieong is my favourite part of it anyway. Even if everybody sucks. I look up to him a lot. He…even calls me sweetheart. It always throws me off” 

“Isn’t that a bit inappropriate?”

You frowned, not expecting that response, “No…he has different nicknames for everyone”

“I see” His reply was curt, like he didn’t believe that. He cleared his throat, “And um…your friends? The other students? Are they cool?”

“I mean, you’ve already met Jeonghan”

“Is that the boy who you were dancing with?”

“Yeah, that’s him”

Hyunjin stayed quiet for a minute and then he said, “He has two left feet”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry” He chuckled dryly, “When you were dancing with him, he almost dropped you…like ten times”

“He only came to the party for me, because I didn’t know anybody. Don’t make fun of him. He was kind of the best part of my day”

“I’m not making fun of him. It’s just an observation” Hyunjin mumbled, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes and he looked at you, “And I saw your face. You were worried he’d drop you too”

“I was not” Your eyes narrowed, but a stupid smile tugged at your lips, “Anyway. You’re one to talk. You’re probably worse”

He laughed properly this time, looking at you over his glasses, “Oh, am I?”

You shrugged, “We’ve never danced together so it could be true”

“I think you’re forgetting that I’m a professional dancer, Y/N” His tone was cocky.

You sighed, facing away to look out, “Ugh. Do you always have to bring up the idol card?”

“The idol card?” He repeated, “That’s my job, what do you mean?”

“Just seems like an unfair advantage”

Hyunjin chuckled, “Fine. Okay. Even if I wasn’t a professional dancer, I bet I’d still be able to take Jeonghan in a dance battle”

“I’m starting to think that you’re obsessed with him…”

Hyunjin laughed, “I guess I see why you chose him now”

Your gaze darted to his, “What?”

You arrived at a railway crossing. The signal was loud, and he stopped the car, foot on the brake as he slowed down. “He is your boyfriend…isn’t he?” He said, so surely. 

You stared at him, wondering how he could ask that so casually, so unaffected. You’d probably die if Hyunjin had a girlfriend. Did he think you’d move on so fucking fast? You woke and fell asleep to the thought of him every day still, months later. You thought of him every waking second. Maybe you should take a book out of Hyunjin’s ability to be vague, “Are you seriously asking me that?”

He looked at you, eyes heavy with emotion. He swallowed, “Yeah. I am”

You stared right back at him, heart pounding fast, “Yeah. I am dating him”

“Oh” He shifted in his seat, “That’s nice…how long have you known him?”

You couldn’t believe he could be so…casual about it. You looked out, “It doesn’t matter”

Hyunjin nodded, “Well. For what it’s worth, Nate seems like a nice guy”

You just couldn’t comprehend how the fuck he could be so casual about this. As if you two had just been an inconvenient situationship and your lives and souls hadn’t completely intertwined this summer. As if you’d just move away, and get a new boyfriend and fall in love. As if you could ever truly move on from Hyunjin. As if he didn't know that you'd been in love with him this whole time. It wasn’t that simple. It could never be.

“So…you really don’t give a fuck?”

“I’m sorry?” He looked at you, feigning innocence, “About what?”

You could have said so many things. Bitterness clawed out of you. “Well, for what it’s worth, Nate’s a great kisser”

His eyes widened, and he nodded, voice falling low, “I’m sure he is”

You couldn’t stop. You wanted your words to stab him like little knives he’d dug into your skin all this while, “And for what it’s worth, I actually trust him” 

Hyunjin tensed up, fists clenching at the wheel. The train was just passing by, and the signal was so loud but you knew he heard you. “I’m…glad you trust him” He ended up saying. 

You watched him, observing every micro-expression. You could have played along, egged him on, made him believe it. He should hurt too, like you were, but you couldn’t wrap your head around this. Was it really so easy for him to move on? He was pretending like nothing ever affected him. Were you seriously the only one who had been invested in the two of you? You let out a laugh, “So that’s it?”

“What?” He looked at you.

“You don’t care? You really think I would just date…a random guy from my class? Because if you think that, you don’t—”

His brows shot up, “I’m sorry, so you’re not dating him? Why would you tell me you were?” 

“Do you care if I was?”

He frowned, eyebrows furrowing, “Seriously? You know I still care about you, right?”

It pissed you off. He had no right to say something like that when he didn’t give a fuck about you. He had just abandoned you, with no intention of ever making up things, “I don’t know, Hyunjin. I mean…everything you’ve done to me the past few months has shown me quite the opposite. That you don’t care”

His eyes widened, “Everything I’ve done to you?”

A scoff escaped you, and you were losing it, “I’m sure you had your reasons for never wanting to talk to me again. I, personally, would have just liked a goodbye or an explanation before you decided to leave. That’s just me though. But you know what? Maybe I read too much in what happened this summer”

He swallowed, shifting to look at you, “Look, it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. I didn’t know how to explain and I thought that you would understand—”

How the fuck could he expect you to understand? Your voice shot up, and everything you'd wondered over the past few months bubbled to the surface, “You…pushed me away, Hyunjin. You completely got rid of me! I’m sure you had your reasons, but I wasn’t okay. I’m still not fucking okay. It was a complete asshole move to block me for months with no explanation. I didn’t even know you’re capable of something like that, but you know what, it sucks to find out. In my head, I built you up to be some angel on a fucking pedestal. That was obviously my mistake” 

He swallowed, adam's apple bobbing, and you could see him grappling with what to say. It felt good to render him speechless. It took away from your embarrassment of knowing that Kairi and Chan could probably hear each second of this conversation. 

“Things were always going to end this way. You knew that, Y/N” The way he spoke pissed you off, like he had a rehearsed answer in his head and no real fucking emotions. Why could he just not tell you what he truly felt? Why was he trying so hard to be someone he was not?

A dry chuckle escaped you, and it was better you take out your anger on him because you felt like crying with each word you said, “No, I didn’t know that. if I knew that you were just going to disappear, I would have preferred never to know you”

His gaze burned through you, “Y/N…”

Somebody suddenly knocked on Hyunjin’s window, and you shook away your building tears. It was an officer, and Hyunjin rolled down the window, “Yes?”

He leaned in, not knowing what he was interrupting, “Excuse me? The signal’s running at a delay. There’s going to be a ten minute hold-up”

Hyunjin nodded, “Oh okay”

He rolled the window back up, and looked back at you. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't even look at him. You hated him and his fucking nonchalance. You swallowed, “I need some air”

Before he could say something, you opened the door, stepping out. There would be a delay anyway, and hardly any cars were behind you. You walked to the side of the street, taking in a breath, willing yourself to not start fucking cry.

Another car door slammed shut behind you, and Hyunjin followed you out.

“Y/N—” He said, walking around the car, following you to the side.

Your emotions were brimming to the top, and you couldn’t keep it in. It would be petty, mean, childish but you deserved to get some answers.

You turned around, voice raising, “If I hadn’t moved to the city, you would have never met me again” It wasn’t a question. You knew he had no plans of returning to town anytime this century, “And you were just okay with that? With never seeing me again?”

He closed his eyes, his body towering over you, “It’s…not that simple”

“Yeah. It is. You didn’t even think I was worth an explanation…or a proper goodbye?”

“I…didn’t know what to say. You just have to believe when I say I’m doing this for your own good”

“Really?” You scoffed, “You expect me to believe that…? You could’ve said anything.  Anything would have been better than what I got. Just tell me what's going on, please”

“Anything I said would have hurt you” His voice was shaking, like he was going to cry. How could he ever explain that he had picked his life over you? That you were the sacrifice he had decided to make?

You loved him, and you couldn’t bear to be the reason he cried but you had so many questions. Your voice was loud, in disbelief and frustration, “How is this any different? You cut me out of your life like it was nothing”

“It wasn’t nothing. It was just as hard for me as—”

“No, I’m not done talking. After losing you, moving to the city was the hardest thing I ever did. Leaving Daejon behind, all my friends…the only life I knew, and this place where I don’t really fit perfectly, but I’m trying so hard to. It is so hard. The only thing I love…I can’t even love that anymore because I can’t fucking stop thinking about you when I’m painting! It’s not fair. You had a choice, Hyunjin. I didn’t” Your voice broke.

“Before I saw you in the shop, I was this close to calling you up” He held up a small gap between his fingers, “I just…always ended up talking myself out of it”

A scoff escaped you, at the ridiculousness of his response, “I really have a hard time believing that”

“I don’t expect you to believe me anyway” He mumbled. You stared at him, crossing your arms, wondering how everything led to this, “I thought you were different, Hyunjin, from every other guy I’ve known in my life… but you…”

He stepped closer to you, running a hand through his hair, “What was I supposed to say to you, Y/N? That I never want to see you again? Do you think that would be easy for me to say?”

“I don’t know, Hyunjin! I don’t fucking know, but anything would have been better than what I got, because the person I knew would never have acted this drastically. So, were you just pretending in Daejon? Or are you pretending now? Because I’m having a real hard time telling who the real you is, Hyunjin—”

His eyes widened at those words, as if they personally struck him. He grabbed your hands, pulling you closer to him in the process, “Y/N— Stop. I’m not…I never pretended with you”

His grip on you was firm, but enough that you could let go if you wanted. You looked up at him, and you were already so emotional, “Then why are you being so cold? You’ve been acting like you don’t care, but I don’t even know if you’re acting anymore. I feel like…I never saw the real you. That’s what you’re making me believe”

His closed his eyes, shaking his head at your words like they were the worst thing he could hear, “I’m sorry”

Your eyebrows knitted together, voice fading, “For…what?”

“For…changing my number and not telling you” He swallowed, and his hands held yours in between them like a prayer, “For…trying to push you away. For ignoring you in the shop”

His eyes glimmered with incoming tears, but he cleared his throat, and blinked them away, “I’m sorry I didn’t apologise until today”

You swallowed. You’d been waiting for an apology this whole time, but your heart still hurt. There wasn’t any explanation. You couldn’t…just believe him. Your heart squeezed so bad, it felt like a heart attack. You blinked away tears.

“There’s…a lot I want to talk to you about, but I can’t do it here” He swallowed, and there was a cloud of smoke when he talked, it was freezing outside but your heart felt dead, “You just have to believe me when I say I’m doing this for your own good”

“I don’t understand…”

He closed his eyes, and the train at the signal crossing was still passing, giving you a few more moments of his vulnerability, “I’ve told you before. If we didn’t stop talking when we did…it would have led to something more that I can’t deny. I’m not going to regret my choices because I know why I made them. And that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I will always fucking care about you, it’s insane to even think anything else but…I can’t be in your life, and you can’t be in mine”

Tears threatened to shoot up, but you had some dignity clinging on so you said, “Then what is this? Why are you still being nice to me, making conversation? Why did you show up tonight? Why are you driving me home? If you don’t want me in your life, then just…stay out of it, Hyunjin”

He blinked, glossy eyes, and suddenly the car behind you honked. The train had passed, and you were free to cross.

His voice was shaking and this was the most emotion you’d seen in him in months, “I…couldn’t leave you at the party. It’s not safe…of course I had to drive you home. I would go insane if something happened to you”

You ripped your hands away from him, “Then I guess it’s a good thing that it’s not your responsibility anymore”

»»————-

The rest of the ride was fucking horrible. You stared out the window the entire time, and Hyunjin didn’t say anything else. Maybe it really was over now. What was left to salvage? You don’t know how much Kairi and Chan had heard, but it didn’t matter anyway. They were probably getting back together, which meant you couldn’t be a part of this anymore. If Kairi started hanging out with Chan again, you would obviously not be invited. Not after they witnessed you being such a bitch to their best friend. They were friends first, after all. You were the stranger.

“The next right turn” You mumbled, as you approached the street you lived on. Hyunjin brought the car to a stop. They were now awake in the backseat. You didn’t even know what to say. You unbuckled your seatbelt, grabbing your bag of things, avoiding eye contact with anybody, “Thank you for the ride home”

“I can walk you home” Chan offered.

“I’ll be fine. It’s a minute away” You replied, holding your bag to your chest.

“It’s really late out” Chan replied, insisting. You didn’t want to argue with him any further. The longer you argued, the longer you’d have to stay in this car, next to Hyunjin. He was looking at you, but he was pretending real hard not to. The eyes flickering back and forth, it couldn’t fool you. You’d become an expert on all things him. These secretive glances were all you had back then, so how could you not notice them now?

“Don’t worry about it, Chan” You replied, shooting them a smile so they believed you. Chan nodded, and you glanced at Kairi. She looked tired, but she was in his arms, so she was clearly very happy. She smiled warmly, and you wonder if they’d heard you breaking down. Her voice was soft and sweet, and she grabbed your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “Thank you for a perfect birthday, Y/N. You had a good time?”

“Of course.” You nodded. You were suffocating in here. You reached for the doorknob, but then you heard Hyunjin’s voice, “Good luck with class”

You couldn’t see the look in his eyes, but you’d die for it. You stepped out into the cold, glancing briefly back, “Yeah. Thanks.”

It didn’t matter because he had already looked away. It’s like he couldn’t bear to see you anymore.

»»————-

“Do you want to talk about it?” Your neighbour, Jeongin, stood in the doorway. You had been standing in the cold for a while, staring at the spot the car had been. It had driven off a while ago, but you could still picture it where it stood. The humming of the engine, the heat, the stupid 80s music stuck in your head. You had been so mean to him. He didn’t deserve it.

You looked at him in surprise, “You’re awake?”

“I work on European time” He shrugged, leaning against the doorway. It was freezing cold, and you could feel it in your bones. It had never been this way back home. “Let’s just go inside” You spoke.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea” He smiled, pulling you in by your arm, “I was wondering how the party went”

You followed him up the stairs, feeling like a zombie in each step, “It was good. I missed you at it. You should have come”

“I’m sure Nate kept you plenty company” Jeongin laughed, “Are you going to go to sleep now?”

It was almost six am, and the sun was rising. You don’t think you could fall asleep with these thoughts in your head. You glanced at him, “Why? You got something in mind?”

He grinned, like he'd been waiting for you to ask him this. And so you spent the dawn with Jeongin, in his cosy apartment, struggling over a 1000-piece puzzle and downing the red wine he’d brought you. He didn’t ask you any questions, which was nice. You wouldn’t even know where to start. He was sweet and he was always smiling, telling you about his work and all the new video games he’d bought. You prolonged everything, asking more questions, anything to keep the focus on him. You didn’t want to go back to your empty apartment and face your thoughts.

“How long have you been living here?” You asked. The window in his apartment was bigger than yours, facing out at the busy street, as the city woke up and came back to life.

“Almost my entire life. Moved here when I was twelve” He told you. You couldn’t bring yourself to be excited about this anymore, or about anything else. You missed your friends, the familiarity and comfort of them. You missed the diner, and it’s cheap coffee.

“Does it ever get easy?”

He laughed, “Honestly, no. Seoul…is hard to fall in love with, but once you do…you never go back”

You sighed, placing the final piece of the puzzle. You missed your art shop. It had always kept you safe and happy. If you knew it was going to be this hard leaving that behind, you would have thought twice, “I think…some people probably never get used to it. That makes me sad”

“Yeah?” He asked, “But you’re used to it now, aren’t you? You once told me it was written in the stars for you to come here”

“I don’t know if I believe in that anymore”

He relaxed on his couch, “I’m sure things will change. You’ll find something worth staying for”

You shrugged, pushing the puzzle to the side and it fell apart, all the pieces getting jumbled up. He didn’t complain about you ruining your hours worth of hard work. He just watched you grapple with your thoughts. You looked up at him, feeling hollow inside, “I think I made a mistake, Jeongin”

»»————-

Kairi had apparently found the best dessert shop in the city. She had pleaded you for hours until you’d decided to come. There were no seats inside the place, it was so busy, and so you and Kairi sat on a patio table outside. You looked around, as you swirled your hot coffee around. There were no leaves on the trees anymore. Winter had finally come.

“I’m going to bring Chris this when he gets back” She spoke, through a mouthful of brownie, “He doesn’t really have a sweet tooth, but I know he will love this. I once baked the boys this cake for Jisung’s birthday, and Chris said he hated it, but I saw him eat all the leftovers later. He literally stole mine too!” She laughed.

“When he’s back from where?”

“Oh, right. They’re in Japan. They had a flight the morning after my birthday, remember? Well, they’re supposed to show up at an event in Tokyo, and then they come back home for a few days, until they go back again. It’s the end of the season so there’s a bunch of award shows” She told you, sprinkling sugar crystals into her coffee. You didn’t know that they were in an entirely different country, “Must be hard. All the flying back and forth”

She shrugged, taking a sip of her drink, “Not really. They’re used to it at this point. It’s tiring, but…in their line of work, they have to learn to adjust”

Maybe that was your biggest flaw. You couldn’t adjust. To a different life, to new friends, to a new bed. To a life without him. 

“I’m sorry if I ruined your birthday”

Her eyes widened, and she kept her cup of coffee down, “What are you talking about? You’re the one that made it perfect. You made it happen in the first place!”

“Yeah, but…” You trailed off, feeling embarrassed, “You must have heard us”

She swallowed, “I didn’t hear anything. It wasn’t my business to.”

You looked up at her, “Chan must hate me”

“What? Why would he?”

You looked down, “I’m…an asshole”

She reached ahead, grabbing your hand, “No one thinks you’re an asshole”

You let out a sigh, and you didn’t believe her, but there was no point arguing. 

The next week, the boys flew back home. You only knew because Kairi told you. She had been counting down the days till they returned. She invited you out to a small get-together, but they would all be there. You said no. 

Slowly, all your plans with Kairi became into plans with Kairi and Chan. You wouldn’t mind at all, because you loved Chan. You just hated that he almost always came with Hyunjin. So you never went to any of those. He would be grateful. He probably never wanted to see you again either. Your time with Kairi became divided. You didn’t blame her. She was in love, and you wouldn’t deny her any time with him. It became obvious how much happier she was around him.

A week later, you realised you still had Hyunjin’s sweater that he’d given to you at the party. So, you washed it and returned it to Kairi, hoping he wasn’t angry that you kept it with you for so long. You’d truthfully forgotten. You wouldn’t want to keep anything of his longer than you had to anyway. 

»»————-

Nate was staring in awe at your painting. It was balanced on the easel, and you stood next to it, embarrassed at the attention it got. Nate laughed in disbelief, “Holy shit. That’s…beautiful. When did you get the time to make that?”

It was show-and-tell day. You were almost in the middle of your semester, and you were supposed to display your best work in class. You looked back at your painting. Ever since Kairi’s birthday, you hadn’t left your room. You’d been fixated on this. There was only one good thing left for you here, and it was this opportunity. You’d do anything to grasp at it, and maybe all your sadness and heartbreak had ended up being perfect inspiration. You had been endlessly inspired, each brushstroke came to you so easily. Perhaps all good art did come from suffering. Your best work to date you’d done when feeling your worst. You’d sniffled, and cried and fought your way through it.

“I…found time” You shrugged. Your hands were folded behind your back as you explained it to every single person who passed it. All the easels were set up in a circle, and it was almost like those expensive Château classes you could never afford to go to. Nate smiled at you, tilting his head, “You’re so mysterious. It suits you”

“I’m really not trying to be” You replied, “It just…came to me”

His eyes trailed over you. You’d tried to dress your best, an outfit you’d bought off the fancy boutiques, and it had cost you a fortune but none of your own clothes would fit the vibe. Nate’s voice dropped, “Is it weird if I say that you being coy is a turn-on?” 

You smiled at him, wondering why his words had no effect on you. He made you feel wanted. He flirted with you endlessly. He was attracted to you. He actually wanted to talk to you. 

But you knew that was all. He didn’t want to date you. He certainly didn’t have any intentions of a relationship. Perhaps, you didn’t want to just be wanted anymore. 

“Mmh. It’s…a little weird” You teased him.

Kim Jieong approached you, and you straightened up, pulling Nate to the side. He glanced at your painting, and he certainly looked impressed. There was a small smile on his lips, and he was observing your art with all the focus in the world, “How many hours did you spend on this?”

“Maybe…twenty”

He laughed at your feeble attempt of lying, “That looks like…it took a hundred, at the least. Is it all you did this week?”

You nodded, “That’s what I’m here for”

He looked at your painting again, “As your professor, I have to say that I wish you hadn’t sacrificed sleep for this, but…” He leaned in closer, voice dropping, “This is exactly why I picked you, sweetheart”

Your eyes widened, not used to this proximity, but you felt so special. He hadn’t said this to anybody else. He was far too close to you, but you blinked at him, “Are you proud of me?”

He laughed, lifting a finger up, “You’re not there yet”

Your face fell.

“I’ll be proud of you if you can get that done in a day” He smiled wide, hands clasped behind his back, “You should start preparing for next week. I want you to make something special. If you win, it’d mean a lot for you, Y/N”

You nodded, remembering the assignment. The best painting in the class would be chosen for a prize. A scholarship, and the chance to get your work displayed in Seoul Museum of Art. It would certainly make everything much easier, taking the burden off you, and you’d also get a perfect start. You would finally be able to prove your worth here.

»»————-

You’d been painting all day, and your clothes were ruined with stains. You were working on the assignment for next week, it had to be perfect to win, and you hadn't got much sleep, completely immersing yourself into this. In a little break, you laid on your couch, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the call to go through. Yeonjun picked up your phone call, and he sounded so happy on the other end. It had been a while since you’d talked to him and he apologised, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy with work. There was a company retreat last week, and we went out to these cabins in the woods. It was straight from a horror movie, and there was no network there. I took some pictures for you though”

“How did it go? That sounds nice, to be away from everything”

He laughed, “It was. I missed you though. But…I have some news to tell you…something happened”

“Yeah?”

“Remember the girl from my work I said was cute? She…kissed me. We actually, ended up making out in the hot tub. It was really fucking nice” You could imagine him smiling on the other end, and it warmed your heart. You sat up, smiling, “Are you serious? That’s so…amazing. So…you guys made out? Is that all that happened?”

He laughed on the other end, “No. We…slept together. Every night of the retreat”

Your eyes widened, “You’re kidding me. So, you really really like this girl”

“I mean, yeah, things with her are so…simple and easy. She gets me, and she’s so fun to be around. Sometimes that’s just how it has to be”

You thought of the polaroids on his desk of Hana, “Did she never ask about the pictures on your work desk?”

Yeonjun laughed nervously, “I…ended up taking those down. It’s easier to move on that way. I mean, I won’t ever be over her, but…it’s a start”

“Yeah. You’re probably right”

“I may have discovered a new kink about myself” He joked, “I have an urge to just move to that cabin and live in that hot tub forever”

You smiled, “Maybe you should”

“How about you though?”

“Well…I’ve been trying to make my magnum opus. If I have the best painting in class, I get to win this insane amount of money for a scholarship, and…it’ll be perfect”

“Well, you’re obviously going to win. I already know you’re the best in class”

You smiled, “I appreciate your faith in me…I think I’m going to start working on it in the classroom. It’s going to be a really big canvas, and there’s not much space in my apartment”

“That makes sense. And um, I wanted to ask, how are things with…Hyunjin? Did you guys ever talk after you saw him in the shop?”

You lay back down, and the lie was on easy on your tongue, “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since then”

“Wow. He…hasn’t even reached out to you?”

You shrugged, echoing his words from before, “I don’t care. It’s easier to move on that way”

»»————-

Your canvas lay across multiple tables, occupying most of the space in your classroom. You’d joined them all together, it had taken a lot of strength, but it was worth it. Now, you sat on top of the paper cross-legged in the center. It was easier to work this way, as if the entire floor was your painting. You hope you weren’t breaking any rules by being in the classroom after hours. You’d just wanted some time to work on your painting, and you weren’t exactly inspired at your place. Your anger from the past few days had manifested into this; an insane obsession to make this your best work ever. You would prefer that over sadness. This, after all, was the only reason you’d come here. Not for him. It was almost midnight, and you scooted across the canvas, filling in more details of your sketch. Your plan was far too ambitious, but you were going to have to go all out to win the contest. It was the only thing you cared about right now.

“I didn’t know anybody was in here” The voice made you jump. Nobody was supposed to come in here right now, the building was shut down. You glanced up, watching Kim Jieong walk in, and you smiled at him, “Professor. Hi”

His eyes narrowed in on your silhouette, and a familiar smile across his face, “Oh, it’s you. What…in god’s name are you doing on top of the tables?”

“Um, my canvas is pretty big, so I thought it’d be easier to work like this” You explained. He laughed loudly, “You’re adorable, Y/N. You know that?”

You sat back down comfortably, realising he would let you stay here, “Um. Thank you, professor”

He looked around, “Oh, please don’t let me interrupt you. Why is it so dark in here though? I can hardly see you"

Adjusting your canvas and brushes around it, you spoke, “I like it that way. I think much better in the dark, the lights were too bright. Plus, the moonlight looks really nice”

You think he smiled at your words but you couldn’t tell in the dark. You could barely see him, just his silhouette and you heard him laugh. You heard his footsteps as he approached his own desk, “So, we’re far from the final project. I’m curious why you’re in the studio”

You bit your lip, feeling anxious about all this effort you were putting in, “I’m working on the contest painting. The scholarship…I really want to try my best. I also don’t work too well at my apartment, I thought maybe I could work here”

“When I got a notification that a student was still in the studio, I was curious. I had to cut my dinner short”

“Oh” You blinked, feeling guilty, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it notified you…”

“Of course, it’s for the safety of our students” He smiled, stepping towards your workspace, “Would you indulge me in what you’re working on…or is it a surprise?”

Your canvas wasn’t ready to show, “I’d prefer if you see it when it’s finished”

He laughed, and asked, “May I sit next to you?”

“Oh, you won’t be getting back to your dinner?” You asked, looking up at him.

“No, I’d like to stay here with you”

He was perhaps the only person in the world you wanted to be around right now, so you didn’t mind. His presence would calm and comfort you, “Of course. That’d be fine with me, professor”

He pulled a stool up close to your workspace. The greenhouse-studio was deathly quiet and he inched closer to your table. You stared at your big sketch, “I’m really sorry about interrupting your dinner. I thought it’d be fine if I let myself in”

“Don’t apologise, sweetheart. My wife was pretty tired anyway. Just gave us a reason to end the night early”

He was at dinner with his wife? You didn’t even know he was married, but he was in his late thirties so it made sense. You continued adding details, but you couldn’t focus when he was observing you so close. Thankfully the dark could conceal your expressions and embarrassment. You ought to feel proud. The greatest artist in the country was here to watch you paint.

“Have you…eaten dinner yet?” You heard him ask. You glanced up, gesturing to the side of the classroom where your leftovers lay, “Yeah, I had some chinese takeout. Although when I’m painting, I don’t get hungry for hours.”

He just hummed in response. You were grateful that your mentor wanted to sit with you so badly that he skipped dinner with his wife. But the other part disliked the supervision, and you did want some alone time. Still, he was the greatest living artist, so you’d learn to adjust to it. After everything that had happened, he was also your only hope of making it big in the city. He was the sole reason you were still here, spending thousands just to stay in Seoul so you could attend the classes. You looked at him, and he was admiring you while you worked, so you said, “I might be here all night. I wouldn’t want to keep you"

He frowned, “I don’t mind staying. I could get some work done too”

“Oh…sure” You looked back at your sketch, erasing off a mistake. He stood up, walking towards the cabinet, sifting through canvases. Usually, you weren’t awkward around him, but right now it was really late and you were tired to make small talk. But it’d be weirder if you just stayed quiet. You felt a need to fill in the silence with anything, “So, Professor, um…your wife. How did you meet her?”

He shrugged in your peripheral vision, not particularly excited to answer, “The usual. We were high school sweethearts. Got married as soon as we graduated. I was too focused on my art to pursue other women anyway”

You nodded. Well, that made it even more awkward. So you kept going, “Right. Wow. High school, that’s really cool. Was she…any of the inspirations for your paintings?”

“Some of them, yes”

“That’s really nice.” You smiled, sketching out the boundaries for the stars. The idea for this painting had come to you after waking from a dreamless sleep. You’d ended up researching for it for hours, making sure you were portraying accurate art. You couldn’t wait to present your concept next week.

“What about you?” He asked.

“Sorry?” 

“You have a boyfriend?”

You blinked, a nervous laugh escaping you, “Um…not currently. I’m also…I guess, trying to focus on my art, and build a career from it”

He smiled at you, crossing his arms, “Guess we’re more alike than I thought”

You looked back at your canvas as he walked closer to you, “The temptation to understand your sketch is a lot. Can you give me a hint as to what it’s about?”

You slid your sketchbook towards him, where you’d drawn up a miniature version of the sketch, “All I can tell you now is that it’s…a landscape, inspired by my time in the city so far. I was walking home the other night and I couldn’t help but notice the night sky. I’ve always liked it, and I know it’s been overdone in art, but I wanted to explore a new side of it. Someone once told me that there’s no stars in the city, which just…sounds so sad. I was thinking along the lines of that. What do you think so far?”

He pushed his glasses up, a proud smile on his face, “I think that…I’m incredibly lucky to have you. I can't wait to see what you'll do with this”

Your eyes widened, unsure how to respond, “Um…I mean, we’re the lucky ones. We get to study under you, Professor”

He laughed, his voice echoing through the empty studio, “Stop calling me Professor. I think you and me are way past that, don’t you?”

“It’s…only appropriate.” You frowned, going back to work. That was weird. You don't think you would feel comfortable calling him by his first name. And then, you felt another stupid need to fill in the prolonged silence. He was here watching you after all, you could just ask him all the things you’d wondered for years, “Um, I wanted to ask. The painting about the moons. Celestial Fatality. Did you paint that when you were in college?”

He hummed mindlessly, not really answering your question, then he grabbed your sketchbook off the table. Eyebrows furrowed, he stared at it, "I think you can work on your perspective, but these are nice. These hands. You’ve drawn them countless times”

“Yeah” You felt embarrassed, and climbed off the table so you could also see what he was looking at, “It’s a friend from back home”

“Did you draw these from observation?” He asked, as you joined him at his side.

“Hmm. He really wanted me to draw his hands,” You said, recalling the time Hyunjin made you observe them.

Kim Jieong laughed, “Can’t blame him”

A nervous laugh escaped you at those words, “Yeah.” What did he mean by that? You reached to get your sketchbook back. Instead of handing it to you though, he sat down on the desk, turning the pages of your book, “These ones are pretty good too”

“Yeah” You nodded, taking a seat next to him, unsure of what to do, “I made those a while ago”

As he turned another page, something drifted out, landing on the floor. Your eyes widened, and you reached for it. The photobooth strip pictures of you and Hyunjin. You felt embarrassed, but thankfully, Kim Jieong didn’t notice or see them fall out. You grabbed them, hiding them between your palms on your lap. There was nothing wrong with him seeing them, but…it was embarrassing and stupid to carry around pictures of a boy who wasn’t even your boyfriend. 

“You’re very talented” Kim Jieong spoke again, voice dropping low.

“Oh…thank you. It means a lot hearing it from someone like you” 

He finally put your sketchbook to the side, looking right at you. He did look kind of intimidating in this light, towering over you, “This scholarship means a lot to you?”

You swallowed, feeling embarrassed, “Yeah. I could use the help. It’s an expensive life here, and I’d really appreciate it. Plus, the exhibition would be a great kickstart to…a career”

“The others don’t need the scholarship. They just want it so they can win” He said, then leaned forward, “Don’t the rich kids get on your nerves sometimes? They don’t act out of necessity, but you…” He pointed a soiled paintbrush at you, “You’re wonderful because… you’re desperate”

“I’m sorry?”

“Desperate to be seen, and respected. As an artist, I mean. I don’t mean that badly, but all great inventions are born out of necessity. I think that’s why you stand out from the rest”

You didn’t know how to take this compliment, “I guess”

“You know you have the potential to go so many places?” He asked, tilting his head, waving your sketchbook about in one hand. It was so dark in here, and the building was completely empty except for the two of you. This…felt increasingly inappropriate. You were in the studio after-hours with your professor and he was far too close for comfort. He was your favourite artist…but he was still a grown man and you didn’t want to overstep as a student.

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged and stepped closer to you, caging you against the table, “I mean, the right people can get you into any exhibition you dream of in the world. Paris, New York, Seoul. Isn’t that what you fantasise?”

An awkward chuckle escaped you. He was far too close to you, “Yeah. That’s the end goal. The scholarship…would definitely make it easier to get there”

Suddenly, the sound of roaring thunder distracted you and you looked to the windows. The clouds had now hidden the moon, casting a dark shadow over the entire art studio. A chill ran up your spine, and you suddenly felt uncomfortable at his proximity.

“Um..I think the last bus home leaves in twenty minutes. I’ll try to catch it” You stated, shooting him a smile and standing up.

You took your bag, but Kim Jieong grabbed your arm, pulling you back towards him, “You can always convince me”

“Sorry?” You fumbled, stupidly. You…had to have heard him wrong. What was he talking about?

He smiled sweetly, and in the dark, his glasses glittered, “If you won the scholarship, the other students wouldn’t question it, you’ve already proven your worth to everyone”

“Right” You were unsure what he was trying to say, or hinting at. What the fuck did he mean by saying that you could convince him? “I should really go”

“It’s pouring. You’ll catch your death out there, Y/N” He stated, pointing to the storm outside. You swallowed, his grip on your arm foreign, “That’s fine. I have an umbrella”

“Ridiculous. I’ll give you a ride home” He shook his head.

“You really don’t have to. I already feel bad for ruining your dinner”

“Oh, stop apologising, Y/N. Your sweet talk drives me mad sometimes” His hand moved from your arm to your waist, wrapping around it and he pulled you closer to his body, "You stress too much. You need to learn to let things go”

You took a step back, unsure how to process this, “Professor…”

He closed the distance, and his other hand grabbed your chin, voice low in the dark room, “Why do you seem so nervous? You don’t have to be around me. We’re just talking, aren’t we?”

“Right” You were having a hard time breathing, panic surging through you. He was right. Of course. He was your professor. He would never hurt you or make you uncomfortable. He was a living legend. You shouldn’t be nervous. He was just being kind to you. He was the only person you’d looked up to your entire life, the reason you’d tried so hard to come here, and he would never do something wrong.

“I can see you struggling in class, and I know you’re doing everything you can to prove your worth. I’ve asked you this before, about what your dream is. ” He spoke, voice as low as a whisper, fingers gripping your jaw. 

“I…I don’t know what you mean” Your voice was shaking from the nerves, with no fucking idea how to navigate this situation. If you pushed him away, you’d lose all chance of winning the prize.

“Well….whatever it is” He smiled sweetly, and in the low light he looked less like the mentor you’d grown up loving and more menacing, “All you have to do…is ask me”

His eyes flickered to your lips, and back to your eyes. His grip on your waist was so tight, it felt like his palm was burning into your skin through your shirt. Had you somehow given him an alluded hint? He took a step even closer.

“I’m sorry….” You pushed him just enough so he wasn’t holding you anymore.

He looked surprised, eyes wide, and he laughed, “Y/N…What are you doing?” You grabbed your bag in a hurry, “I’m sorry. I should really go. The last bus…”

He called after you, but you rushed through the glass doors to the emergency stairwell. You didn’t want to be stuck in the elevator with him. You couldn’t breathe, legs moving off their own accord. A flash of lightning through the glass windows scared you, and you all but ran down the emergency stairwell, bag hanging off your shoulder, fists clenched. What the fuck. He obviously wasn’t making a move on you, right? You were just being paranoid. He was your professor. He was…the most famous artist in Seoul. He was the kindest person ever. You had to have been reading into things. 

You pushed the heavy door open, walking out onto the street. It was pouring rain, and you let out a breath, taking in the air. The rain soaked through your clothes, and you were shivering. You wanted to call Hyunjin so he could pick you up and so you could cry in his arms, the only place where you'd feel safe, but he'd never even given you his new number. He clearly wanted nothing to do with you. You looked down at your hands, and in your tension…you’d completely crushed the photobooth strip to pieces. 

Raindrops slowly trickled down, tracing the ruined paper in your palm. The only memory left of you and Hyunjin was now gone.

»»————-

You didn’t show up to class the next day. Or the next. Or the one after that.

You were still trying to wrap your head around it. Were you stupid for declining his advances and whatever he was suggesting? You couldn’t go back to class and face him. You’d be too embarrassed of your reaction. Maybe he wasn’t even suggesting anything and you jumped to conclusions. You had to have been imagining things. After all, he didn't actually do anything. Still, you’d ruined all your chances of getting the scholarship and succeeding in his class. What if he brought it up in class? What would the others think?

Your body was shaking from the cold. The heating in your apartment wasn’t working, so you sat on the floor, back to the kitchen counter, knees pulled up. You’d forgotten your huge canvas in class too, and it was probably in the garbage by now.

Your phone buzzed loudly, and Felix was calling. You picked up so he wouldn’t worry, but your voice sounded hollow, “Yes?”

“Babe. Where have you been? You’re not answering any texts the past week”

“I’m sorry…I got caught up in things. Is everything okay, Felix?”

“More than okay” He smiled on the other end, “I’m at the diner. They’re throwing a big party tonight! Apparently, it’s been ten years since it opened! Can you believe it?”

“Wow…it feels like we’d been going there our whole life”

“That’s what I said!” His excited voice came in, “So anyway for their anniversary celebration…all the drinks and food is free. You best believe I’m making full use of it”

You could hear so many familiar voices in the back, “Who all is there…?”

“Umm…well me and Minho, obviously. Hana’s here too. Seonmi, Eunbi and the others. Seungmin’s here as well.”

“Wow…I really wish I was there, Felix”

“Mm, I wish that too. Your apprenticeship better be worth it, Y/N. You’re missing all the good stuff. And everybody in Daejon misses you a lot. Mrs. Aera came up to me today and said the shop’s a mess without you haha”

“Really? It is? Mina isn’t taking care of it?”

“Ah, you know how Mina is. She can’t organise for the life of her. That shop was basically running because of you” He laughed, and you could hear him chew something.

“What are you eating?”

“Blueberry-chocolate waffles. There’s this new recipe Seonmi is trying out, and it’s so good. You should have it when you come back. How about you, love? Are you missing me a lot?”

“So much” You mumbled.

“Kim Jieong better be worth it” He sighed, “I guess I forgive you because you’ve been obsessed with him for years. Is he as dreamy as you imagined?”

“Um…” Your gut hurt, the memory of that night flooding through you, “Yeah. He’s…great”

“I’m sure he is” Felix chuckled, “I still remember how you stole all the magazines in the library that had his paintings in it”

“I didn’t steal them” You protested, “I just…borrowed them for a really long time”

He laughed, “To fawn all over your artist crush. I get it. And…what about your other lover? You accidentally bumped into him yet?”

You forced a smile, not having enough energy to protest that he wasn’t your lover, “No…I haven’t seen him”

“Well. Seoul isn’t that big, I’m sure you’ll find him. Or he’ll find you. Oh, I also forgot to tell you! A new cafe opened up in Daejon last week. It’s some fusion book-and-coffee cafe. They actually have the best coffee in town, no you didn’t hear me say that Seonmi” He started laughing, and you could hear them in the background. Suddenly, the past few months felt like a joke.

There were only two reasons you’d uprooted your life and come here. Now, you’d lost them both. 

So why were you still here?

Maybe you had acted rashly. You thought you’d fit in here, and that this was where you were meant to be. You’d felt stuck there, but here you weren’t any better. You'd probably only found the courage to come here because you knew Hyunjin was here too, and that was clearly...not the right thing to do. He didn't even want you near him, or anywhere in his life. He had made that plenty clear.

“I think I made a mistake” You whispered.

“Sorry?” Felix asked, still laughing loudly, “What mistake?”

“Moving out…I shouldn’t have done that”

“Wait…what? What do you mean?”

“I think I should come home”

“You’re messing with me. Right?” Felix laughed, “Didn’t you want to move to the city since you were fifteen?”

“But I was a kid. I didn’t know anything. I had no idea what to expect”

“Y/N…what are you saying?”

“I was happy in Daejon. I should never have come to Seoul” You stood up, moving to your bedroom.

It was like a parasite, an idea festering into your brain and heart, that maybe this was the reason for this unhappiness. Things were perfect in Daejon. Why had you been complaining all your life? All of your happy memories were there, so the logical thing to do…was go back to where they were created. Then you’d be happy again. You hadn’t learnt how to be happy in this house, in this city, in this new life. 

“Babe. I would be the happiest boy in the world if you came home to me, but maybe you should think this through. Did something happen? Why are you being like this?”

You grabbed your duffel bag off the shelf, “I can’t go back to class, Felix! I can’t. I messed up, big time”

“No, I’m sure you didn’t. You could never—”

“You don’t even know what happened!” You yelled. He fell silent on the other end, “Love. Just…what’s going on?”

You stared at your empty bag, “I’m…coming home. I should never have come here”

“Is that Y/N?” Minho’s familiar, comforting voice came in. You wanted to hug him and never let go. They were so far away. “Yeah” Felix responded to him, voice falling, “She says she’s…coming home”

“Give me the phone” Minho mumbled, “Y/N. What’s going on?”

You tossed your clothes in your bag, messily zipping it up, “I can’t stay here, Min”

“But what about the art classes?”

“If I don’t withdraw, I’ll probably be kicked out anyway” You mumbled, “I didn’t go to classes all week"

“You should think this through”

“I have thought it through! It was a stupid fucking mistake. One I needed to make. You know what they say anyway. The grass is greener on the other side. I just fell for the charms of the city, like everybody else”

“No disrespect but you’re making no sense” Minho’s voice was harsh, “You can’t just give up”

“Can you give the phone back to Felix please?” You asked.

“Fine” You heard it being passed around and then his voice came in, “Love. I’m here”

“Lix” You swallowed, “I know it seems like I’m being irrational, but I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I know it’s embarrassing and stupid, but maybe I was never supposed to be here”

Felix’s voice was so soft, calm, encouraging. You just needed to be near him, in his arms. “I believe you, Y/N. I’m gonna be okay with whatever you decide. I just really want you to think about this”

“I…I want to hug you, Lix” A sniffle escaped you, “I don’t want to go back to class” The idea had completely taken over you.

“Are you sure?”

“Nothing can make me stay” You swallowed. There was a sigh of resignation on the other end, and you knew he wouldn’t fight with you. He would agree with whatever you decided, and that’s what you needed right now. That’s why you called him, and not Yeonjun, or your other friends. Felix was the one person who wanted you home more than anything. He wouldn’t talk you out of it, even if this seemed like the stupidest decision you might be making. 

“What do you need me to do?” He asked, voice soft on the other end. Relief spread through you, and you stopped to look at the window outside your apartment, “A train ticket.”

You could sublease your apartment. You could figure the rest out from the comfort of your real home. You could go back to Aera’s, and get your life in order. You’d find a way to love Felix back. After all, he was the only one who wanted you the way you needed to be wanted. Maybe you were destined for that kind of life after all, where everything stays the same everyday. But that’s good, it was safe. The boy you loved had made you think that you belonged in the city, but he couldn't be more wrong.

That’s what you told yourself, at least, ripping your paintings off the wall. In your short-lived time here, you’d made and put them up to feel less lonely. There’d be no room to carry them back, so you bunched them up, carrying them to the garbage disposal in your apartment. As you shoved them in the disposal, you felt nothing. The hallway was warmer than your apartment and it made you feel a tad better.

Your phone buzzed again, and Felix had sent you something. The train ticket he’d bought for you. It was for tomorrow morning. You knew that you could always trust Felix, with anything. He would always be there for you, if nothing else. Perhaps you'd taken your friendship with him for granted this whole time.

“Need some help?” Jeongin asked. He was coming up the stairs, probably after having heard your struggle with the garbage. You shot him a smile, nodding. He came over, helping you, “Are you redecorating?”

“You could say that…”

“Wait. Are these your paintings?” He realised, stopping halfway.

“Can you help me with something?” You looked at him. He looked confused, and he was frowning, “Um. Sure. What do you need help with?”

“My suitcases…I don’t think the elevator is working”

“Are you going somewhere?” He tilt his head, further confusion scrunching his face. In another life, you and Jeongin could have been really good friends. 

“I’m just going home for a while” You mumbled, shutting the garbage door. For a while would be forever. He didn’t need to know that. It’s not like he would be sad, or miss your presence. 

“Oh. Okay. Of course, I’ll be there in a bit”

Back in your apartment, your phone buzzed again. It was your groupchat with Jeonghan and Minnie. You skimmed through the messages, feeling regretful.

yn are you sick? what’s going on? professor jieong told us you weren’t eligible for the prize anymore

You turned your phone off, staring outside the little kitchen window. The traffic wasn’t as loud as usual. It was a quiet night.

You hugged yourself, trying to find a singular reason to stay. Why had you wanted this life for so long? It had given you nothing but heartbreak, yet a part of you was so sad about leaving tomorrow. You squeezed your eyes shut, a single tear escaping. Maybe you wanted a sign to stay, despite everything in you screaming to leave. When you opened you eyes, your reflection mirrored on the glass pane and then you saw it.

A snowflake drifting down. It twirled in place and your eyes followed its path before it settled on your ledge, quickly crumbling into nothingness.

And then more followed, a flurry of snow falling like stardust. It was beautiful, a cloud of white enveloping everything so quickly, covering the street below. 

Your first snow in the city. 

A bitter smile tugged at your lips. 

The doorbell rang.

Jeongin was already here to help you with the bags. 

So much for a sign.

You grabbed your duffel, and your suitcase, wheeling it out. The quicker you moved with things, the easier it would be. Reaching for the rusty brass doorknob, you pulled the door open.

“Can you take this one? I’ll bring the other” You mumbled, pushing your things out. He nodded, still seemingly confused but he asked no questions, “What time’s your train?”

“In a few hours” You glanced at your phone, “But if there’s going to be a snowstorm, I’d prefer being at the station early…”

He grinned, still so happy and you wish he could share his secrets of eternal happiness, “Smart move. If it was me, I’d probably miss my train. Can’t tell you how many times that’s happened”

You smiled at him, “I can’t afford that”

“I called a taxi cab for you” He said. You nodded, “I’ll meet you downstairs. Thank you, Jeongin”

You stepped back into your apartment. There wasn’t much you’d brought with you, so there wasn’t much you had to take back. You’d never grown fond of this apartment. It had always felt like an inbetween place, while you waited your life to be perfect. Waiting was doing no favours for you.

You shoved your sketchbook into your duffel, putting on your coat before closing the apartment door behind you, and your throat closed up as you realised what you were doing. This was so fucking stupid, and this was rash but what else could you even do? Maybe you could come back to the city in the future if you wanted, but right now it was a terrible decision. You would go back home and you would hug Felix, and maybe you would kiss him and the ache in your heart would be better. The thought of his arms around you, as someone who genuinely cared about you, already made you want to cry.

You unceremoniously dragged your bag across the landing, and the taxi must have arrived already because you heard a loud honk.

It was freezing in the otherwise heated hallway. Your breaths came out in soft mists.

The door downstairs must have been left open, sending cold winds and flurries of snowflakes up the apartment. 

Jeongin would never forget to do that…

As you approached the top step with your bags, you realised who’d left it open.

Draped in a beige trench coat, cheeks red from the cold, Hyunjin stood at the bottom of your staircase.

»»————-

masterlist ⇒

please let me know if you liked the chapter, or any thoughts on this part! thank you :) 

[mydearesthrry]

hi!!! could u maybe write musician reader x harry idea dumping in the middle of the night???

a/n: u get it. this was fun to write teehee. song used is ‘a love letter from the sea to the shore’ by delaney bailey! enjoy :P (this got away from me.)

warnings: nothing, cute fluff from our fave knuckleheads!!!!

“hi baby angel, what are you doing?” harry murmured, a grin on his face as he walked into the living room, seeing his wife sitting on the floor with her guitar on her lap.

“writing something, i think,” she grumbled, scratching aggressively at her shoulder since her guitar strap was rubbing against it. “something’s not working here.”

“well, what’ve y’got so far?” he asked, plopping himself next to her, resting his chin on his hand that was propped up on his knee.

“um, i’ll play it for you,” she shifted in her spot to face him, itching her nose as she scooted. “i’m thinking it’ll be called like, ‘a love letter from the sea to the shore’? i mean, i basically say it in the first verse anyway.”

“cute!” he replied, making her giggle softly.

“okay, um,” y/n began strumming, eyes closing as she played the round of chords she had in mind.

‘cause you hold in my tide

i would die a thousand times

just to see you in another life

stopping after the second chorus, she drops her chin to her chest, hair curtaining around her face as she groans in annoyance. “i can’t figure out the fucking bridge.”

“baby, that was beautiful.” harry says seriously, eyes shining with adoration and utmost love.

“shut up. help me write this bridge.” she muttered, but leaning to press a kiss to his lips in gratitude.

“hm… what if y’like, made it still ocean themed? like slow down the song at that part and make it so it sounds like the water’s coming back up the shore.” he explained casually, not realizing how complicated that sounded.

“what?” she questioned, a confused furrow in her brow.

“like, hold on, give me the guitar.” he held his hands out to grab it, settling it on his lap against his tummy when it was in his possession. harry furrowed his brow, humming a little before just barely singing the words, ‘my love’.

y/n watched as he used relatively the same chords to strum a different pattern, already filling in the gaps with his hums. “i got it! h, wait!”

“see, there y’go lovie. jus’ needed a little boost, hm?” he smiled widely, his bunny teeth peeking out.

“god, we’re fuckin’ good at our jobs.” she murmured after rerecording the song with harry’s added bridge. a giggle left harry’s throat at her look of relief, high-fiving her as she set her guitar back on the stand.

“should i release it? i think we could probably record it tonight.” y/n shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, standing from her place on the floor.

“y’wanna record this song right now? its 2:45 in the morning, sweetheart.” he chuckled at her, standing up after she did.

“yeah, honestly. wanna be my producer for the night?” she giggled, moving towards him slowly, her hands coming to rest on his chest, then fanning out to the nape of his neck.

“sure, baby. if that’s what y’want.” harry promised, his hands resting on her hips. leaning forward, he pressed a kiss on her forehead, both cheeks, and eventually her lips, savoring the flavor of her chapstick that she loved to use before bed.

“i do want that, please?” she whispered between them, pecking his lips again.

“alright, lead the way, angel girl.”

———

liked by harrystyles, sabrinacarpenter, charles_leclerc, and 4,262,819 others

yourinstagram: my new song ‘a love letter from the sea to the shore’ is out may 1st 💌 written & produced by me and husband harrystyles eeeeek i love this song i cant wait for it to be yours!!!!!!!

view all 19,552 comments

landonorris: so excited y/n/n!

sabrinacarpenter: omfg stop

user1: THEY WROTE IT TOGETHER AND PRODUCED IT TOGETHER STOP 😭

harrystyles: I love nothing more than I love you. Thank you for letting me work on this with you. H Xxx

> yourinstagram: harrystyles the sea to my shoooooreeeeeee i love u to pieces and pieces and pieces!!!

niallhoran: Yay bug! Can’t wait to hear it ❤️

user2: y/n probably painted the cover art im unwell

user3: “i love you too much to drift completely” BRUH IM DONE THEYRE SO 😭😭😭

[bullet-prooflove]

Safe: Leroy Jethro Gibbs x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @riley-kore @ilovemark1951 @love-affair-with-fandoms @mishkatelwarriorgoddess

Companion piece to:

The Ice Queen - Gibbs meets The Ice Queen for the first time.

Break The Ice - A act of decency helps Gibbs to break the ice.

Umbrella - Gibbs gets more than he bargained for when he offers you his umbrella.

Grave - You and Gibbs bump into each other in an unexpected place.

The thing that Gibbs likes most about you is that you don’t give damn about what anybody else thinks. That becomes blatantly obvious over the months he continues works with you. You’re a consummate professional, a fierce victim advocate and the most compassionate woman he’s ever met.

The way you speak to the families, it’s an art form.

He could only wish for more people like you. People who haven’t become desensitised by everything they’ve seen. People who still give a shit.

“I don’t know how you do it.” He says to you one night over drinks at a bar he’s already forgotten the name of. “How do you stay sane after seeing so much death?”

Meeting up like this, it’s starting to become a regular thing between the two of you. You’ve been doing it ever since the day you ran into each other at the cemetery. Most nights he grabs a few drinks with his team but Thursdays, he reserves those especially for you.

“I know that people think I’m cold, detached…” You say as you swirl the ice cubes around whiskey glass. “But when I look down at them, I see the person they were. Lieutenant Colchester’s calloused fingers from where he played guitar, the scar on Ensign Lopez’s knee from a cycling accident. They all had hobbies, a life, people who care about them.” You take a sip from the glass. “I guess that makes me driven.”

“It’s a good way to be.” Gibbs tells you, his gaze meeting yours. “You fight for them, even when the lead on the case tells you, you shouldn’t.”

He’s talking about the blow up they all overheard coming from Family and Sexual Violence and Threat Management Unit this afternoon. You have a dead Corporal on your table and Special Agent in Charge LaRue is shoving the file to the bottom of the pile because the deceased used to be hook to put food on the table before she joined the service.

“I’m gonna be person non-grata in that department for a very long time.” You state as you signal to the bartender for another round. “They’ve already requested another M.E.”

“It was the right thing to do.” Gibbs tells you as if it’s something irrefutable.

That’s one of the reasons you like about spending time with Gibbs. There’s no platitudes, there’s only frankness. He’s a man without an agenda and you can not express just how refreshing that is.  

“I know.” You say, pushing your used glass away from you. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat if I thought it would bring any of them justice.”

You damn well would too, he knows it.

It’s an hour later that he begins to tug on his jacket. It’s the same everytime. Eleven o’clock hits and he walks you home. Only tonight you aren’t pulling on your coat, your still sitting there, your finger tracing around the top of the glass you’ve been drinking from.

“Maeve?” He questions, tilting his head to meet your gaze.

“I think I’m gonna stay a while.” You tell him and he sits back down on his stool.

“Alright, well I’ve got nowhere else to be-”

“Jethro.” You say softly, your hand coming to rest on top of his ensuring you have his full attention. “You know that feeling you get, that frustration that builds and builds until you end up starting a fight. I get that too, only I fuck it out.”

“Oh.” He says as it dawns on him. “I’m cock blocking you.”

“You look like a big strapping Marine, ready to beat the shit out of anyone that approaches me.” You inform him and he supposes he kinda does.

“I’m not sure how comfortable I feel…” He begins because his momma taught him a lot better than to leave a woman alone in a bar.

“It’s not about your comfort.” You remind him, your voice turning brittle. “It’s about me getting what I need and what I need is to get fucked.”

He doesn’t like it, not because of the sex but rather the danger it presents. You’ll be taking home you don’t know, someone who could hurt you or worse. He also knows he can’t stop you, that you’re going to do this no matter what he says because it is a need, one that he recognises all too well.

“Will you call me or page me?” He asks you as he raises to his feet once again. “Just so I know you’re safe.”

You sigh, rapping your fingertips upon the surface on the table. He gets the feeling you aren’t used to people actually giving a shit about you. Well tough, he does and you’re just gonna have to get used to that.

“Maybe.” You concede. “If you leave within the next five minutes.”

Maybe…

That’s the best he’s gonna get for now.

It’s a couple of hours later that his pager chirps. He’s doing push ups in the dark on the bedroom floor, trying to chase away the images of another man touching you, tasting you, fucking you. He’s not a jealous man but he is protective, he would go to hell and back for the people he cares about and apparently you’re one of them. He picks up the tiny black device, his gaze fixating on the letters as they scroll across screen.

S-A-F-E.

Safe.

Love Gibbs? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 100)

The sound of light snoring filled a 16 year old boys bedroom in the wee hours of the dusk, the wall adorned with guitars on racks and band posters displaying men with long hair.

His blankets were a charcoal black, his sheets a dark grey. On his desk lie a machine glowing with RGB, and whirring softly, and his seating options consisted of haphazardly arranged bean bags.

“Nico! ¡Levántate! ¡tienes tu turno en la puerta del búnker hoy!” Came harshly from the living room, and a drone with a mop of black hair grumbled, emerging from his nest of blankets like a member of the undead.

His purple eyeslights flickered on just to display his groggniess- another night of fitful sleep.

“Comin abuela!” He calls out in return, throwing the blankets off him and stumbling into the bathroom where he brushed his shoulder length hair and cleaned his teeth.

The only thing he was wearing was a pair of long black shorts, his hair was a mess, and when he looked at himself in the mirror he looked like a disheveled shelter dog.

“Ugh. Fuck me…”

He sighed as he gathered up clothes to wear for his shift guarding the front door, with everything going on, older students had the choice to volunteer to help with different projects instead.

And he'd take security work over a stuffy classroom any day.

He slid on a grey shirt and green cargo pants before fumbling around in his room to find his brown aviator jacket and matching goggles, then dug in his nightstand to find his service weapon- a 9mm pistol that would do nothing against a threat that wasn't a normal drone.

He strapped it to his hip and opened the the door to the living room where his grandmother was watching some kind of reality TV show, her legs covered in a knitted blanket.

“Morning.” He gave a half grin to her slightly yellowed frame, she smiled back, faded blue eyelights blinking at him.

“Buenos días mijo. Casi pensé que no te levantarías” She hummed, gently taking his hand as she couldn't quite see him even in his close proximity.

“Nada…No me iría de casa indefenso.” He replied before sighing. “Por favor, usa tus gafas abuela…”

She shook her head. “Ah, no. Not like it will help anyway.” She switched to english, probably not even realizing she'd switched at all. “You be safe mijo! Don't be a idiota!”

He chuckled softly. “Done enough of being stupid… no worries. See you when I get back.”

He shut the door behind him, stopping to stand just in front of his door to watch several people walk by- a deadpan expression seeping onto his face.

“Let's get this over with…”

He traipsed down the hall towards the bunker doors. Getting shoulder checked and ignored all the way through; he was decently tall for a worker drone but that didn't stop people from not caring enough to get out of his way.

It was kind of his luck. Hell, his whole families luck it seemed. He should've been named Murphy, because every single bad thing that could happen; did.

His father was murdered outside the bunker before he was even born, and his mother only took care of him for the first four years of his life before dumping him on her mother and bailing. He couldn't parse her out from the crowd even if she was still around.

So it was just him and his dear Abuela, and it had been for most of his life, which he was fine with, she was a lovely woman and had raised him well. Though recently her opticals had begun to fail…

Just another thing added to the list of mundane and shitty aspects of his life.

Why couldn't his problems be more fantastical? At least then he could be miserable and interesting instead of miserable and bored to fucking death.

He reached the front of the bunker on complete autopilot, settling into his post next to the open door, snow blistering around him while he leaned against the frozen concrete.

Despite how lonely it often got, he did find himself enjoying his time out here, one earbud in his audials while he watched the ship that would take them all away from here be built.

He'd actually begun as a welder, and was pretty good at it too- the only problem being that he was too impatient for it, he would get into a flow and then burn his hands because he wasn't paying attention… so now he was put on simple security.

“Hey Nico. Just get here?” His watch partner and now, one of his close friends patting his shoulder as she walked by with a piping hot cup of gasoline for the both of them.

“Hey Nellie. Yeah. Kinda slept in…” He replied, looking into the girls green eyelights and near silvery hair that hung down to the small of her back.

“Boss should be back from the expedition today with the ‘cords. All that's left after that is preparing that monstrosity to go.” She pointed to the ship, now being coated in heat shielding for its cone and underbelly.

“You think it'll actually work? Some of that shits starting to get in our pipes now… it's gonna get impossible to clean out soon.”

She shrugged. “If it don't, I say let's have one last hurrah until we all munched, if the planets gonna take everything; let's not let it take our joy too…”

“And if it does?”

She laughed. “Then I'll kiss you. How about that?”

He blushed at that, looking away sheepishly. “I think I'd take you up on that.”

The air cracked with supersonic pressure, alerting both drones to a yellow blur quickly decending, preparing to land just in front of them and they both braced themselves, snow getting flung everywhere as something big and mechanical landed with a loud thud.

After everything settled, what remined standing before them was tall, formidable, and had a long tail with a stinger. A Murder Drone…

Carrying a small, feisty, visibly pregnant little worker, and both were smiling like idiots.

“You said slow.”

“That was slow!”

“You broke the sound barrier!”

Nico felt his features soften. Good, they were both back in one piece, and it seems to have went well If their playful bickering was anything to go by.

…

There was one more reason he really enjoyed being out here, instead of in there.

“Mama! Papa!” Little Tera was calling from the arms of a drone with blonde hair and white eyelights, reaching out for her parents as N nearly ran to take her out of the workers arms.

“Oh hello my baby bat! Papi missed you yes he did!” He spun her, making a cascade of happy giggles escape her mouth.

Nico smiled at the sight, feeling his heart swell before a pang of deep regret hit him like a truck.

It wasn't supposed to be this way…

That night with Chloe was supposed to be fun, no consequence. She'd told him she was sixteen too, acted like she'd never done anything before right up until she absolutely blew his mind- but he'd chalked it up to it being his first time.

Then; nothing. Radio silence, he didn't see her in his classes, didn't see her in the halls or any other party he'd went to, like she'd been a ghost.

Until she called him five months later to meet her at the nursery.

He thought the meeting place was odd, but at the time didn't seem to care, he was just excited to see her again, being unable to wipe the night from his memory- he'd wanted something more substantial ever since then…

What he arrived to, was her holding a pillbaby put with one hand- which she dropped unceremoniously into his arms before just walking away without explaining a damn thing.

He didn't need one though. He knew the moment the babies eyes opened and he was staring into his own eyelights, when her mouth opened to let out a coo and she weakly rolled into into him.

He held her close, alone aside from Mrs.Rayn in the nursery, having to sit down because his legs threatened to give out underneath him.

At first… he just admired her, she was mostly inert now having been just transferred and having no life experience other then him in that moment. But she was perfect in every way.

Then he… thought about how he'd have to adjust, he'd have to drop out of school, move out- but… he couldn't move out, abuela couldn't see very well and without him she could hurt herself…

Okay… so he couldn't move out, that's fine. So it was drop out, keep taking care of his grandmother and the new addition, and get a job so he could make sure she'd have toys and extra bottles and all the oil she needed.

But… taking care of the both of them would be a full time job- he couldn't be out all day and expect his grandmother to help raise yet another baby.

He started to tremble when he made that revelation. How absolutely upset his grandmother was going to be at him, how utterly impossible it would be to try and juggle everything this little baby would need at the age of 16.

And he started to cry uncontrollably, hugging her tightly as his heart unraveled out onto the floor. Ugly sobs wracking through his body as he went through the last… and most viable option. To leave her here.

Yet he still stayed for another hour, basking in his daughter's presence, memorizing it to the best of his ability.

He'd given her a name- even knowing it would never be used.

Mariposa, his little butterfly.

And then, he went to the front desk, legs feeling like lead and with shaky breaths, and handed her to Mrs. Rayn.

She didn't even have time to ask a question before he was gone, not being able to bear being there a second longer without breaking down into more tears.

When he got back to his room, he collapsed in a heap of despair. Sitting on the edge of his bed just staring into space, the weight of what he'd done threatening to crush him.

After an hour of that. He called Chloe, she didn't pick up but he didn't exactly need her to. He just needed to fucking scream.

So he did.

He left a thirty minute long expletive filled rant as a message before throwing his phone in fit of absolute rage and then collapsing as tears ran down the inside of his visor again.

He had a daughter, a pillbaby with his code and the circumstances of her birth and his life had made it impossible for him to be there for her in the way he wanted to be.

He knew, realistically, this was the best choice for both of them, he wouldn't have to uproot everything and she would have a much higher quality of life, she'd have two parents who'd love her instead of just him, a 16 year old boy who barely knew how to take care of himself.

The next morning, and the day after that, and the day after that he went to visit her secretly, giving her tickles or admiring her before he went to school. His heart hurting knowing that there was going to be a day soon where she'd be gone.

And then the day came.

And she was gone.

He was brought back to the moment by a happy laugh, Tera pulling her mother's beanie off as she climbed her head, looking overjoyed to be with her parents.

She was so happy now, so energetic, so wild and carefree, he felt cemented in his choice, that it was the right one. But sometimes he was simply just jealous of her new parents; despite the fact they seemed wonderful.

They got to experience her first words, first steps, spoil her rotten. All the things he wanted to do, to be the dad he never got to have.

“Papi! Happy! Mama!” She yelped out a short string of words, beaming happily as the family went inside. Resting on her mother's shoulder- they made eye contact.

She recognized him, not as her dad but… as someone she knew. Her mouth tilted upwards and she gave him a happy wave, kicking her feet.

He gave a small, bittersweet wave in return.

Next ->

[the-finest-clockwork-soldier]

The space of the bar was filled with harsh, white light: unfit for a show and washing out the carefully chosen outfits of all inside. Better was the array of spotlights above the stage, ready to shine rich hues only when the music truly began. Not to be confused with the occasional inharmonious notes that rang out when an instrument was unceremoniously dropped or tuned- or roughly shoved into the flesh of a mechanism when one dared get too close to another.

It was another one of these notes that rang out when Tim tripped over his own guitar, mind clear but still stumbling like a drunk as he recovered from one too many bludgeon on the hauler ride down through the atmosphere. Jonny's tail, flicking in annoyance and reprimand, did nothing to help, though he had little right to his annoyance, as the cup of the microphone in his palm hid remnants of stubborn blood that he hadn't quite managed to wash off in the bar's bathroom.

Brian knelt in the back, adjusting the stands of his kick drum, while Ivy worked above him on the cymbals. Her own euphonium and flute were propped neatly in a corner against a wall, their cases by their side. She rose onto the tips of her feet to adjust the cymbal she busied herself with riding up the edge of her skirt to show just the hints of a holster strapped to her thigh, freshly filled as it so rarely was. She quickly dropped back down again.

Across the room, Ashes leaned over the bar, elbow on wood with a palm under their chin as they organized a few rounds to be delivered backstage before the end of the set, They smiled at the bartender, as if knowing a joke he didn't, all the while their bass was still strapped to their back.

They happily took the opportunity to have some of their specific variety of fun, regardless of the way they should be setting up. It was really Nastya's turn for this kind of talk, thanks to the ease of her instrument to organize, but she was never one for interaction, and it was that viola of hers that sat on her lap. As far out of the light as she could be- the light that made her skin look even more sickly than it already was- near Ivy's instruments.

Opposite of her on the stage, Raphaella swatted at Marius every few minutes, for he kept trying to slip around the rim of her piano and fiddle with the buttons there, nevermind the fiddle and bow in his hand. Smiles played on both of their faces, this game of frustrating each other as familiar to them as eternity.

In the midst, the Toy Soldier bustled about, organizing wires and placements and microphones. All that it could do, and all that it was ordered to do, it did, not to stay still for as long as a second. It was not so much a blur as it was a ball of energy, its giddiness apparent in the skip of its step.

The crew hadn't even attempted to lock it out this time!

Even as it moved, it kept a close eye on its two friends less used to the routine of setting up a show.

@littlevandalist @gizm0roleplayz

[niallerspayno]

Two Loves (Louis Tomlinson x reader) - Fic Request

Anonymous request: Hi so my Louis request is when Louis x reader are expecting twins and after she gives birth their middle names are after Daisy and Phoebe and they tell them and all the family meets them 🥰

and

Anonymous request: could you do an imagine when Louis’s a dad to twin girls??

Tags: Fluff, pregnancy

The trailer is a flurry of energy—laughter echoing off the walls, clothes tossed onto chairs, and the faint, sharp scent of hairspray hanging in the air. You shift the strap of your makeup kit higher on your shoulder, trailing behind Lottie as she strides confidently toward the door. It’s your first day as her assistant, and you’re not sure if the excitement or the nerves are winning.

“You’re going to be great,” Lottie says over her shoulder, shooting you a reassuring smile. “The boys are… chaotic, but they’re harmless. Just don’t let them get in your way too much.”

She pushes open the trailer door, and the noise inside hits you immediately. Niall is sitting in the corner tuning his guitar, Harry’s adjusting his curls in the mirror, and there, on the worn leather sofa, is Louis. He’s scrolling through his phone, one leg tucked beneath him, his face lit up by the screen in front of him.

“Alright, lads,” Lottie announces, stepping inside. “This is my new assistant. She’ll be helping me keep you lot looking decent for the stage. Try not to scare her off on day one, yeah?”

All eyes turn to you. You raise a hand in a small, awkward wave. “Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m Y/n”

Harry grins first, leaning casually against the mirror. “Another one to keep Lottie from losing her mind? You’re brave. Welcome to the madness.”

Louis glances up then, and your eyes meet. It’s startling, how blue his eyes are—how the world around you seems to dim, just for a second, until it’s just you and him.

“And this troublemaker here is my brother,” Lottie says, jerking her thumb toward him. “Louis. He’s going to be the biggest pain in your ass, I promise.”

He stands, sliding his phone into his pocket, a playful smirk curving across his lips. “That’s not true. I’m an angel.” He takes a step closer, holding out a hand. “Louis,” he says simply. “Nice to meet you, Y/n.”

You shake his hand, his touch warm and steady, sending an unexpected jolt through you. “Nice to meet you too. I guess I’m your sister’s assistant now.”

His smirk deepens. “I think you just made her job a whole lot easier.”

“Alright, Louis, don’t start,” Lottie warns, shooting him a look.

“What? I’m just being polite,” he says, but his gaze stays on you a second longer, his grin teasing. “Unless you’d prefer—”

“Don’t you dare,” Lottie snaps, cutting him off as she picks up a brush and chucks it in his direction.

You can’t help but laugh, the tension in your chest melting away. Louis winks at you as he dodges the brush, his grin infectious. You get the distinct feeling that working with Lottie is going to be more than you bargained for—but you don’t mind. Not one bit.

…

The years between that first meeting in the trailer and this moment have been nothing short of extraordinary. What started as playful teasing and a single, nerve-wracking first date blossomed into something neither of you could have imagined.

Despite Lottie’s initial protests, Louis quickly proved that he wasn’t just looking for a fleeting connection. He was all in from the start, and over time, Lottie came around, even becoming one of your biggest supporters.

You’ve been by his side for it all: the whirlwind of the band’s breakup, the crushing heartbreak of losing his mother, and the bittersweet triumph of his first solo album. Through the highs and the lows, your bond only grew stronger. The late nights filled with laughter, the tearful confessions, and the quiet moments of just being together have shaped your life into something beautiful—something that feels like home.

Now, in the stillness of a quiet morning, you find yourself on the brink of yet another life-changing moment.

The soft morning light filters through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the living room. You’re curled up on the sofa, a blanket draped over your legs, holding a mug of tea that’s long gone cold. Louis is next to you, one arm lazily thrown over your shoulders, scrolling through his phone as if it’s any other morning. But it’s not. Not for you.

“Alright,” he says, his voice breaking the silence, “do I go for a run this morning, or stay here and let you beat me at Scrabble again?”

You smile faintly, but your stomach flips. The words are stuck in your throat, heavy with the weight of what you’re about to say.

He glances at you, frowning slightly. “Hey, what’s up?” he asks, shifting to look at you more closely. “You’re quiet this morning.”

You take a shaky breath, setting your mug down on the coffee table. Your hands tremble as you reach for his. “Louis… I need to tell you something.”

His playful smirk fades instantly, replaced by concern. “Is everything alright? You’re scaring me.”

You squeeze his hand, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “I—” Your voice wavers, and you have to swallow hard to keep going. “I think… we’re going to need to clear some space in the guest room.”

He blinks, confusion flickering across his face. “Why would—” He stops abruptly, realization crashing into him. His eyes widen, and his grip on your hand tightens. “Wait. Are you—?”

Tears spill down your cheeks as you nod. “I took a test this morning. I’m pregnant.”

For a long moment, he doesn’t say anything, just stares at you like he’s trying to process the words. Then, suddenly, he exhales a shaky laugh, his face crumpling as tears spring to his eyes. “You’re serious?”

You nod again, your voice breaking. “I’m serious. We’re having a baby.”

He pulls you into his arms so quickly, you barely have time to react. His hold is firm, almost desperate, and you can feel him trembling as he buries his face in your shoulder. “Oh my God,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “We’re having a baby.”

The words hang in the air, so simple yet so profound. You can feel his tears against your skin, and it’s enough to undo you completely.

“I’m so happy,” you manage to choke out, your hands clutching the back of his shirt. “I’m scared, but I’m so happy.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands cupping your face as he brushes your tears away with his thumbs. His eyes are shining, his smile soft and full of love. “I’m happy too. And scared. And so in love with you.”

The kiss he gives you is slow and tender, a promise wrapped in warmth. When he pulls back, a laugh bubbles out of him, breaking the tension. “So… does this mean I have to swap Scrabble nights for diaper duty?”

You laugh, a real, full laugh that feels like sunshine breaking through the clouds. “Yeah, looks like it.”

“Worth it,” he says, grinning as he presses another kiss to your forehead.

…

The room is dimly lit, the hum of the ultrasound machine filling the quiet space. You lie on the exam table, your heart pounding as the technician prepares the wand. Louis is seated beside you, his hand clasped tightly around yours, his thumb tracing soothing circles against your skin.

“You alright?” he whispers, leaning in close.

You nod, but the lump in your throat betrays you. “Yeah. Just nervous.”

He squeezes your hand. “Me too,” he admits, his voice soft. “But in the best way.”

The technician smiles as she spreads the cool gel across your belly. “Alright, let’s take a look,” she says cheerfully, guiding the wand across your skin.

The screen comes to life, a swirl of black, white, and gray. You hold your breath as the technician moves the wand, her practiced eyes scanning the image. Then, she pauses, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Well,” she says, glancing at the two of you, “I hope you’re ready for some exciting news.”

Louis leans forward, his eyes glued to the screen. “Exciting how?” he asks, his voice tinged with nervous anticipation.

The technician points to the screen, tracing a shape with her finger. “See this here? That’s baby number one.”

Your heart skips. “Baby number one?”

She moves her finger slightly to the right. “And this… is baby number two. Congratulations, you’re having twins!”

For a moment, the room is completely silent, the words hanging in the air. You turn to Louis, your eyes wide. “Twins?” you whisper.

Louis blinks, his mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to form words. Finally, he bursts out laughing, the sound bright and incredulous. “Twins!” he repeats, gripping your hand tighter. “We’re having two!”

Tears spill down your cheeks as you nod, overwhelmed. “Two babies,” you say, your voice shaking.

“And look at this,” the technician continues, her voice warm. “You’re having two girls.”

Louis’ laughter stops, his eyes snapping back to the screen. “Girls?” he whispers, his voice suddenly thick with emotion.

“Two healthy little girls,” the technician confirms, pointing out the details on the screen.

You glance at Louis, and the look on his face takes your breath away. His eyes are shining, his lips parted in awe, and you can see the exact moment the reality of it hits him.

“Girls,” he repeats, his voice barely audible. He turns to you, his hand trembling as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. “We’re having daughters.”

You nod, tears streaming freely now. “We are.”

He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours. “I’m already so in love with them,” he whispers, his voice breaking.

The technician gives you both a moment, her smile kind as she continues to take measurements. You cling to Louis, the two of you sharing a quiet, emotional embrace.

When he finally pulls back, he grins, his usual mischief returning. “Two girls, huh? Guess I’m officially outnumbered.”

You laugh through your tears, shaking your head. “You’re in trouble, Tomlinson.”

“Worth every second,” he says, kissing you softly.

…

The house is buzzing with last-minute preparation, but not the kind you’ve planned for. Louis is darting around the kitchen, trying to rescue a tray of cookies he ambitiously attempted for a family gathering later that afternoon. Flour dusts his dark shirt, and he’s muttering something about “bloody measurements” under his breath.

“Maybe we should’ve just bought cupcakes,” you call out from the living room, where you’re perched on the floor, flipping through a baby book.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he quips, pulling the tray from the oven and wincing. “Alright, maybe not my finest work, but they’re edible. Probably.”

You laugh, shaking your head as he brings the tray over to show you. “If nothing else, the twins will inherit your optimism,” you tease, just as a sharp, unexpected pain grips your abdomen.

Your hand flies to your belly as you suck in a breath.

Louis’ smile fades instantly. “What? What is it?”

“I—” you start, wincing as another wave of pain hits, stronger this time. “I think… something’s happening.”

His eyes go wide. “Happening like… happening happening?”

You nod, your heart racing. “Louis, I think my water just broke.”

He looks down, noticing the growing wet spot on the carpet beneath you. His face cycles through a dozen emotions—shock, panic, excitement—before he springs into action. “Okay. Right. Stay calm. I’ll… I’ll get the hospital bag!”

He bolts toward the hallway, then immediately doubles back. “Wait, you stay calm. Are you calm? Should I call the hospital? Or the midwife? Or—”

“Louis!” you interrupt, half-laughing despite the pain. “Breathe.”

He freezes, hands on his hips, then nods sharply. “Right. Breathing. Got it. Hospital bag!”

While he rushes around, you manage to pull yourself onto the sofa, gripping the armrest as another contraction ripples through you. By the time Louis reappears, holding the hospital bag and his keys like they’re trophies, his face is flushed but determined.

“Let’s go,” he says, helping you to your feet.

The drive to the hospital is chaos. Louis alternates between asking if you’re okay every five seconds and loudly berating every other car on the road for not moving fast enough.

“Remind me,” you manage to gasp through a contraction, “to never let you drive in a crisis again.”

He glances at you, wide-eyed. “You’re the one in labor, and you’re still making jokes?”

“It’s a coping mechanism,” you say, gripping the door handle as another wave hits.

When you finally arrive, the hospital staff springs into action, wheeling you into a delivery room while Louis trails behind, looking both terrified and awestruck. As you’re settled onto the bed, he takes your hand, his grip firm but trembling.

“This is really happening,” he whispers, his voice low and full of wonder.

You nod, tears pooling in your eyes as another contraction builds. “It’s happening.”

He presses a kiss to your knuckles, his eyes locked on yours. “You’re incredible. We’re going to meet them soon.”

…

The delivery room feels like a world unto itself—bright lights, the rhythmic beeping of monitors, and a flurry of activity as the medical team moves with calm precision. Louis is beside you, his hand in yours, his steady presence anchoring you through the whirlwind of labor.

“You’re doing amazing,” he says for what feels like the hundredth time, his voice raw with emotion. He brushes damp hair from your forehead, his thumb grazing your cheek.

You clutch his hand tighter as another contraction tears through you. “I don’t feel amazing,” you manage to grit out, your breath ragged.

He presses a kiss to your temple. “You are, though. You’re incredible.”

The doctor glances up from her position at the foot of the bed. “Alright, we’re getting close. Baby number one is ready to meet you.”

The words send a fresh wave of adrenaline through you, pushing back the exhaustion. You nod, gripping Louis’ hand like a lifeline as the doctor talks you through the next steps.

“On the next contraction, I need you to push,” she says calmly.

You nod again, tears pricking at your eyes. “I don’t know if I can do this,” you whisper, looking up at Louis.

He leans closer, his forehead almost touching yours. “You can,” he says firmly, his voice steady. “And I’ll be right here with you.”

The contraction hits, and you push with everything you have, Louis’ voice a constant stream of encouragement in your ear. The room feels electric, the air thick with anticipation.

And then, all at once, the sound you’ve been waiting for: the tiny, piercing cry of your first daughter.

“She’s here!” the doctor announces, lifting the wriggling, pink-faced baby for you to see before handing her off to the nurse.

You collapse back against the pillows, tears streaming down your face. Louis is staring at her, his own tears falling freely. “She’s perfect,” he breathes, his voice choked.

But there’s no time to rest. The doctor smiles at you. “Alright, Mama, baby number two is ready now.”

You nod, summoning every ounce of strength left in your body. Louis turns back to you, cupping your face in his hands. “You’ve got this,” he says, his voice breaking. “One more, and we’ll have our girls.”

The second delivery feels even more intense, but before long, another cry fills the room, this one slightly louder and more insistent.

“Baby number two!” the doctor announces, her own smile wide as she holds up your second daughter.

You let out a sob of relief and joy, your body shaking as the nurse places the second baby in Louis’ arms. He looks down at her, his expression pure wonder, before turning back to you.

“She’s beautiful,” he whispers, carefully lowering her into your arms.

The nurse brings your first daughter over, placing her beside her sister, and suddenly, they’re both there: tiny, perfect, and entirely yours.

You look down at them, their little faces scrunched up, their hands curling into fists. “They’re so small,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

Louis sits beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he gazes at them in awe. “And already so loud,” he says with a watery laugh.

You laugh too, tears slipping down your cheeks as you lean into him. “We did it,” you say, your voice thick with emotion. “We’re parents.”

He presses a kiss to your temple, his eyes never leaving the girls. “We’re parents,” he echoes softly, his voice full of love. “And they’re perfect.”

…

The room feels even warmer with the presence of family, the air humming with excitement as Lottie, Daisy, Phoebe, and Liam crowd around your hospital bed. The twins are nestled peacefully in their bassinets, and Louis is still in awe, his hand gently resting on the little ones as he talks to his sisters.

Lottie grins from ear to ear, her makeup no longer as pristine as it usually is, but the smile on her face is as radiant as ever. “I can’t believe they’re finally here!”

“They’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” Daisy says, her voice trembling with emotion as she carefully looks at the babies. Phoebe stands beside her, beaming proudly, her twin smile matching Daisy’s perfectly.

Liam steps forward, giving Louis a teasing nudge. “Well, mate, now you’ve got a pair of girls who’ll keep you on your toes for the rest of your life.”

Louis laughs, a hint of nervousness in his tone as he glances at you. “I’m ready for it, though.” He meets your eyes, his expression softening. “I’m ready for anything as long as it’s with you.”

You squeeze his hand, your heart swelling with love.

The conversation flows easily, filled with the kind of easy laughter and chatter only family can bring. But after a few minutes, you glance at Louis, a shy smile tugging at your lips.

“I think we should tell them,” you say softly, your voice filled with affection.

Louis raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eye. “Tell them what, love?”

You nod toward the babies, a warm smile spreading across your face. “Their names.”

Louis grins, his eyes twinkling as he stands up and moves to the bassinets, lifting the twins one by one, carefully placing each of them into Daisy’s arms and then Phoebe’s. “We decided their middle names will be… Daisy and Phoebe.”

The room falls silent for a moment as Lottie, Daisy, and Phoebe stare at the babies in their arms, a mix of shock and overwhelming emotion passing across their faces.

“Are you serious?” Phoebe asks, her voice thick with emotion.

Louis smiles, his voice warm and sincere. “You two have always been there for me, for us, and we wanted to honor that.”

Daisy and Phoebe exchange a look, both of them blinking back tears.

“You really did that?” Daisy asks, her voice breaking.

“Of course,” Louis says softly. “They’re our girls, and we want them to know how important you both are to us.”

Phoebe’s eyes glisten as she holds her niece. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Say ‘thank you’ and enjoy being an aunt,” Louis teases, earning a playful punch from her.

Liam chuckles from his corner of the room. “That’s a solid choice, mate. It’s beautiful.”

Lottie leans in closer to the twins, a soft laugh escaping her. “They’re going to be so spoiled, aren’t they?”

“Absolutely,” you laugh, your heart full. “And they’re going to know how much their family loves them.”

Lottie leans in to kiss your forehead, her voice a little shaky. “They’re perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

Louis leans in beside you, his arm around your shoulders, both of you gazing at your daughters as the family continues to gather around. “I think they’ve already stolen our hearts,” he says quietly, his gaze fixed on the two tiny girls in his sisters’ arms.

You nod, tears welling up once again. “They really have.”

The room fills with laughter and love as the family continues to adore the twins, the atmosphere one of pure joy and celebration.

[gucciwins]

Not Another Rockstar

A/N: this is short but I love everything about it! if you love this, please let me know. might have to turn it into a mini series 🤭

+

Harry didn’t want to go out but Paul insisted. Something about supporting his girlfriend’s friend band. He wasn’t even sure who he was there for. All he knew was that he would be getting free pint’s from their good friend Ayo all night long. 

It was a small venue that resembled more of a bar than a concert venue. Whatever band was playing had a lot of fans because it was crowded. Harry remained at a corner table with Paul and Adam. They were chatting about Mitch’s wedding happening in a few months. Harry was the best man and by the looks of it would be attending alone. Everyone had told him to take anyone as a date but it was an important night for Mitch and him. He couldn’t take a random stranger. Plus he liked the idea of getting drunk and not remembering the night after his speech. 

“What’s the group's name?” Harry found himself asking after the opener finished his five songs. 

“Cleopatra," Adam told him. 

Interesting name.

He wasn’t sure how long until the show was to begin but he needed to take a piss. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

The men brushed him off. Harry had never been to this place and could not find the restroom to save his life. There were no signs anywhere so Harry kept walking aimlessly. He somehow made it through a door but it only led him to a long corridor 

“And who might you be?” A woman called out behind him.

Harry turned around to find the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He knew she was talking to him as the hallway was empty. He seemed to be at a loss for words. Harry never had a problem with the ladies. He was a charming person but at this moment it’s as if he’s never spoken to a woman before. 

“Uh, Harry. I’m Harry. Was looking for the men’s room.”

She bit back a smile, “thought they had those out front, not backstage.” 

“It’s my first time here,” he confessed. “Should have asked for help. Am I going to get kicked out now?”

The pretty lady shakes her head. “No, you’re lucky you found me and not Annabelle. She’s not as kind.”

“True to her name then.” 

She cocks her head, “excuse me?” 

Harry curses under his breath. He fucked this up. “Like the horror movie, Annabelle. She’s kind of uh a lot.” 

She nods as if taking in his words. “Never made that connection. But yes, there’s a bit of truth to that.” 

“I uh-I-I ha-ave to get back.” 

“So soon,” she pouts. 

“The show. I’m here for the show.” 

She smirks, “I hope you enjoy.”

Harry starts to walk away when she calls his name. He turns around to find her leaning against the wall. “The name’s Y/N. I’ll find you after the show," she promises. And like that she’s gone. 

He’s left in a daze. Harry manages to find his way to his friends but when he does there is a new drink on the table. He doesn’t think twice before chugging it down. 

“Wow, you okay, man?” Paul looks at him confused.

“Fine,” Harry breathes out.

Adam pats him on his back, “show’s starting in a few minutes.” 

Harry is thankful, something to take his mind off of her. 

Before Harry can get lost in thought the lights go dark and the screams erupt in the room. The drums are the first thing to start then come in the guitars. It's a nice intro, he's going to look up their music once he's home. A pink light shines on stage for a few seconds before landing on the lead singer and an angelic room fills his ears. 

As his eyes focus on the band on stage, he feels his heart stop when he spots the girl from backstage. Y/N is center-stage singing to a mesmerized crowd.

She has a blue guitar strapped to her front. She’s wearing a red corset that makes her boobs look like every man’s dream. She paired it with a black mini skirt of similar material. Her red lips have him enthralled as she sings into the microphone. The crowd is entirely hers. She's prancing around owning the stage knowing that every person in the room has their eyes on her.

Harry knows he’s screwed. Their is no way he’d have a chance with her not when he feels he fucked it up.

[forever-rogue]

Daddy Eddie melts my heart 🫠 I have such a cute idea! As we know Eddie loves his guitar like hell and maybe Ollie accidentally breaks it? When the little girl realizes what she's done she starts to cry and panic, because she knows how important it is to her daddy, but Eddie calms her down, hugs her, gives her lots of kisses on those chubby baby cheeks and assures his daughter that he loves nothing more than his little princess 🥹🥹🥹

AN | Dad!Eddie makes me so soft🥺🥰

Warnings | None

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Ollie?” it had been silent for too long - at least too long when there was a little Munson underfoot. You wiped your hands on the tea towel, cooing softly at the baby strapped to your chest. Jamie grinned at you, babbling happily as though he could understand what you were saying. When you heard no answer to your call you let out a small sigh, “let’s go and find sister, bub. I’m sure she’s up to something.”

You made sure the oven was off as you took the last tray of cookies out of the oven. Making your upstairs, you tried to listen for any signs of your daughter. Eventually you made it into the spare room which served as both a playroom for the kids and your husband, and found Ollie standing there with a guilty little look on her face.

“Hi Mommy,” her sheepish smile displayed her gap-tooth grin as you sighed softly at her, “is everything okay?”

“That depends,” you stated softly, her big brown eyes widened in surprise, “what are you up to, kiddo?”

“Nothing,” her reply came way too quickly for it to be true. You cocked your head to the side as Jamie squealed in delight. Her eyes softened as she looked at her little brother; the two of them already adored each other so much, “‘m just playing in here.”

“You were so quiet,” you raised your eyebrow at her, “were you playing with Daddy’s guitar?”

“No…” it was a bold faced lie and you both knew it. She took after Eddie in so many ways, including the fact that they were both terrible liars, “maybe I touched it a little bit…”

"A little bit huh?" you ran a hand affectionately through her dark curls, as she grinned at you, "I'm sure Daddy won't mind, but maybe for right now we can leave it alone. He can play with you later."

"Okay," she nodded solemnly as she reached for your hand, "can I have a snack?"

"Sure babe," you promised her, "let's have a snack then maybe we'll go to the park for a little bit."

"Yay!" she practically bounded down the stairs exactly, "I can play with Jamie!"

"We'll see honey," you patted the grinning baby's head, "he's still really small, babe. We have to be careful."

"I'm careful!" she insisted, immediately followed by a small oof as she almost tried in excitement. You couldn't help but laugh in amusement at her.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After dinner, you and Eddie decided to watch a movie and cuddle on the couch after you’d put the baby down for some sleep. Ollie still had plenty of energy - which you truly envied - and was running around and playing. She wasn’t in the mood to be still and watch a movie so she was off in the playroom. Meanwhile you had been watching the movie but you were slowly falling asleep, cuddled up into his side. His arm was around you as he traced aimless shapes into your skin. Yeah, this was definitely your favorite spot in the world. 

“You’re snoring,” you heard his teasing lilt cut through the fog that was slowly falling over you. A huff escaped your lips as you turned to him with a little mock glare. He laughed as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

“I am not,” you sat up so you could face him, a pretty little pout on your lips that he just wanted to kiss away, “I wasn’t even sleeping! Just resting my eyes.”

“Whatever you say, angel,” he brushed a few rogue looks of hair out of your face, before resting his hand on your face, thumb stroking over your cheek, “I think if anyone deserves to rest, it’s you. Even if you’re missing out on a quality movie.”

“A quality movie,” you snorted in amusement, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and giving it a gentle squeeze, “this is some random b rated comedy, my love. I highly doubt you even remember the name.”

“I do!” he insisted as  you raised an eyebrow and motioned for him to go on, “it’s…something.”

“That’s what I thought,” you laughed and he took the momentary advantage to tickle your sides. Your eyes widened in surprise as you squealed, meekly trying to miss him off of you, “you’re cheating! This is cruel!”

“Well it’s fun for me,” he grinned, leaning over the top of you on the couch. He took your hands and pinned them to the side as he leaned down to kiss you, “is this really so bad?”

“I’m pretty sure this is how our son happened,” you laughed, “speaking of which, if you wake him, I might have to-”

Almost as if on cue, a few soft cries came over the baby monitor that was on the side table next to the couch. The two of you exchanged  soft smiles of amusement. Eddie quickly pressed kisses all over your face before maneuvering off you and helping you to sit up. 

“I’ll go and get him,” he whispered softly, “you just stay here and relax.”

“You sure?”

“‘course,” he promised as you immediately started to curl yourself back up in your blanket. Eddie, besides being an amazing partner, was an amazing and doting father which was one of the many things you loved about him, “I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Will you check on Ollie too, pretty please? She’s been awfully quiet for a bit,” which if you knew anything by now when it came to your Munsons, was never a good sign. 

“I’m sure she just crashed,” he didn’t think anything of it, “but I will. Save my spot!”

“Always,” you watched him head up the stairs, admiring the view before he disappeared. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey bub,” Eddie’s voice was soft as he stepped into the nursery, the soft night light illuminating the room in a pretty glow. When he peeked into the crib, he found big brown eyes looking up at him curiously before a gummy little smile appeared, “what’s wrong, cutie? You hungry or do you wanna be held?”

Jamie babbled at him, as though he understood what Eddie was saying before looking his chunky little arms towards him. Eddie gently picked up and cuddled him to chest, pressing big kisses to his chubby little cheeks, “I’m sensing you just want some cuddles, huh?” 

He sat down in the rocking chair, both of them relaxing as he gently rocked them back and forth. The baby was sprawled out on his chest, clutching at a lock of Eddie’s hair, as Eddie rubbed his back and sang softly under his breath. He’d never imagined himself as a father, really not until you told him you’d been pregnant with Ollie, but now? Now it was his favorite thing in the world, along with being your husband. He couldn’t imagine any other life. 

Once the baby was back asleep, he tucked him back into the crib, making sure he was comfortable before gently stroking his cheek, “good night, Jamie. I love you so, so much.”

He stepped out of the room and closed the door about halfway before making his way over the playroom. You were right - your daughter had been too quiet.

“Ollie Pop?” he called out softly as he stepped into the room. Before he knew what was happening, he felt a pair of arms wrapped tightly around his legs, the force almost knocking him over. He looked down to find the small girl hanging onto him with a worried expression and tear stained cheeks, “baby, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” she cried, her big brown eyes glittering with tears, “I didn’t mean to, Daddy.”

“What are you talking about, kiddo?” he crouched down so he was eye level with her, tenderly brushing away her tears, “what happened?”

“It was an accident!” she insisted, still to Eddie’s confusion. He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze in an attempt to get her to calm down.

“Shh, babe, slow down,” he dropped his voice to a softer tone, trying to show her that he wasn’t mad, “tell me this - is your body safe and sound?”

“Mhmm.”

“Is your heart safe and sound?” he asked and she gave him a half nod and shrug. It was a tactic the two of you had come up with when she was younger to try to get a better understanding of when she was upset or something had happened. She was still young and small, and couldn’t explain what was going on as articulately as someone older could. But she always understood this, “why is your heart not safe?”

“I broke it,” she whispered, pointing behind her between some sniffles, “I didn’t mean to break it. Now you’re going to be sad.”

“Olivia,” he looked to where she was pointing at his guitar, finding the strings either broken or loose. His first instinct wasn’t to be mad or upset, it was to make sure she was okay - the strings could hurt when they popped. He took her hands in his to make sure there were no cuts or injuries, “are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

“No.”

“Okay, good,” he kissed her forehead, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“You’re not mad?”

“I’m not mad, baby,” he promised, “I’m happy you’re okay. But do you know what I’m going to ask you?”

“For me to never touch your guitar again?”

“Not that,” he said and her face lit up, “you can play with it and look at it any time, but only when I’m with you. That way nothing will happen and you won’t get hurt. Does that sound okay?”

“Yes,” she nodded. The two of them looked at each other for a few moments before he made a silly face at her. She broke into a fit of giggles, her worries just melting away at the lok on Eddie’s face, “will you be able to fix it?”

“‘course I will,” he promised; realistically it wasn’t that hard of a fix, just more annoying than anything, but it really didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, “but that’s a worry for later.”

“I’m sorry,” she almost whispered as he picked her up and she wrapped her arms around his neck, “Mommy told me not to play with it but I didn’t listen. Do you think she’s gonna be mad at me?”

“No,” he perched her on his hip, “she’s going to be glad that you’re okay. She’s going to ask you to do the same thing. It’s not that we don’t want you to have fun, we just want you to be safe.”

“‘Cause you love me,” she smiled as he kissed the side of her head.

“Exactly,” he agreed with a soft nod, “its almost bedtime for you, kiddo. But do you want to come and hang out with me and Mommy for a little bit?”

“Yes,” her eyes lit up as he started heading back down the stairs to the living room.

By the time he made his way into the living room, you were already asleep, snoring softly and all cuddled up in your blanket. He shook his head fondly before sitting down at the opposite side of the couch so he wouldn’t wake you up. He made himself comfortable and when he took a look back at his daughter, she had nodded off as well. 

“Oh my girls,” he said softly, “I love you all so much.”

It wasn’t long before he was asleep either. 

[suuuupernovaaa]

Requested by anon. Hobie Brown x f!Reader. 'Open Arms' by SZA, Travis Scott.

I know this is all bad, but please, put a leash on me. Who needs self-esteem anyway?

Rated M. 18+. Mostly fluff.

Samantha's elbow, unbelievably sharp and bony, grinds into my side. I let out a yelp, and yank myself away from my best friend. "What the fuck, Sam?"

She's grinning at me, and then her gaze slips away, following something over my shoulder. I follow her eyeline and see him - Hobie Brown, walking towards us across the grassy lawn of the park. His guitar is strapped over his back and his hands are in the pocket of his studded leather vest. He's walking towards us and as his gaze meets mine, the corners of his mouth turn up just a little bit - which is a beaming smile for Hobie.

We've only just started dating. It's been three... dates, if you can call them that. The second date was helping Hobie and his friends paint a mural. The third was dinner, which I burnt, on the floor of my apartment, because I'm waiting for my new kitchen table to be delivered. The first, Hobie told me on the third date, was the time we ran into each other at the grocery store and he asked me on what I thought was our first date, but then learned was apparently our second.

Though I've dated plenty before, there is something distinct about Hobie. When I first met him, I assumed he was the kind of guy who could not settle down, who could not commit, and who wouldn't be interested in sharing his feelings with anyone.

You could have nearly knocked me over with a feather when, as we sat on the floor eating burnt roast chicken over my coffee table, Hobie looked me right into my eyes and told me he was feeling nervous every time he saw me.

"Dunno," he'd told me, "I just think... that you're special, Y/N. This is somethin' special, and I don't want to mess it up."

I nearly choked on my dry chicken, and the tears that gathered in my eyes as I took a sip of water. The truth was, since the moment I'd been introduced to Hobie Brown, I'd known I was in trouble. Everything about him screamed for me. I was obsessed. I was trying to play it cool, but hearing him call me special, call the budding relationship between us special, nearly sent me into a fit.

"Jesus," Hobie said, hitting my back gently. "You alright?"

I wiped the tears from my eyes and set my water down. "Yes. Sorry. Shit. I really like you, Hobie."

We smiled at each other like two idiots who were bound to fall in love.

As he walks toward me in the park, I'm smiling like that again. I can feel Sam rolling her eyes next to me. "Oh, my god, are you going to fuck him in front of everyone here?"

I shrug, and elbow her back. "If he asks."

She shoves me. "I gotta run. See you tonight?"

"What's tonight?" Hobie asks as he reaches us, and Sam begins her departure.

"See you!" I holler. "Sam is going to help me put together my table and chairs. She's handy."

"I mean this in the most pro-feminist, anti-sexist way possible, but you've got a man now. I can put together your furniture," Hobie says with a teasing grin, and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me close to him. "Or, I can bring you a pizza after you work. Christen the new table."

I press a soft kiss to his cheek. "Perfect. Around 8? Shouldn't take us too long."

It's embarrassing, how I melt in this man's arms. When he mentions Christening the kitchen table, I don't think of eating food there. I think of myself, laid back, legs spread, Hobie between them...

But pizza with Hobie and my best friend is good, too. Jesus, I need to pull myself together, hold on to my dignity and self-respect as long as I can.

Hobie dips me backwards a little bit, and presses a firm kiss to my mouth, letting his lips linger on mine for a long time. My head is spinning when he finally sets me upright again. "Maybe once Sam leaves, we can Christen the table another way," he whispers, and a shiver runs up my spine.

I don't really need self-respect, do I?

[corroded-hellfire]

Prompt Day 9: The Hideout

Word Count: 998

Rating: T

Pairing: Eddie x Reader

CW: Language, asshole date (not Eddie)

Summary: One of the five regular drunks brings a date, and Eddie doesn't like how he treats her.

@corrodedcoffinfest

“Everyone having a good time tonight?” Eddie asks into the microphone as he adjusts its height. 

It’s a typical Tuesday night at The Hideout and Corroded Coffin just stepped on stage. They’ve been doing this for months now, a routine that any of them could go through in their sleep. Eddie knows if he looks up from the mic that there will be five drunks out in the crowd, and he can tell you where each of them is sitting and what they’re drinking. 

“You want another drink, honey?”

That’s the voice of the guy who sits off to the right, at the table that wobbles a little, and who drinks gin and tonics. Sometimes he’ll shout out requests after his fifth or sixth drink. Drunk Number Three is how Eddie refers to him in his own mind. But he’s usually sitting alone, so Eddie’s curiosity is piqued. Are there six drunks in the audience tonight?

Once the mic stand is secured, Eddie lifts his head and looks out at the sparsely populated bar. His eyes immediately land on the anomaly.

Across the table from Drunk Number Three there’s a girl who can’t be much older than Eddie is, and by the pretty red sweater, black skirt, tights, and heels, it’s a safe assumption to say she’s on a date with this guy. That thought alone blows Eddie’s mind because how in the hell did that loser get someone like you to go out with him? You don’t particularly look like you’re having a good time, either. Arms folded against your chest, one leg crossed over the other, your whole body facing away from the guy to look towards the stage, and the irritated look on your beautiful face clue Eddie in that the evening isn’t going so well for you. 

“I said, do you want—”

“No,” you cut off Drunk Number Three, looking at him from the corner of your eye. “I haven’t finished this drink yet.”

When your gaze shifts back to the stage, it immediately locks with Eddie’s. Your annoyed exterior cracks when you see the lead singer looking at you. A small, but very real, smile grows on your face, and it stirs a giddy roiling in Eddie’s stomach.

Gareth clears his throat, and Eddie tries his best to get back into the regular Tuesday night groove. 

“We’re Corroded Coffin, as I’m sure most of you regulars know. Let’s have some fun tonight.”

On the count off, Gareth clicking the drumsticks together, the guys launch into their first song of the evening: You’re in Love by Ratt.

Eddie finds it ironic that he can’t keep his eyes away from you for longer than fifteen seconds while they play the only song in their set about love. 

It’s never been easier for Eddie to sing this song than it is right now. He’s singing it to you and only you, and he wishes there was some way that you could know that. 

Later in the set, when there’s a song about burning hatred, Eddie can’t help but aim it in the direction of Drunk Number Three. He’s ignored you most of the night, preferring the company of his drink. You don’t seem bothered by that in the least though. 

The set is just about at its close and the guys start to play Nothing Else Matters—possibly the song Eddie enjoys playing the most. But before the band even gets to the chorus, a hushed conversation increasingly becomes louder, to the point where Eddie keeps looking at you not because of how beautiful you are, but because he’s worried. 

Drunk Number Three reaches across the table and wraps his hand around your upper arm harshly.

Fire ignites inside Eddie’s veins and the world has been splashed in crimson, he’s so mad. 

Stopping mid song, Eddie pulls his guitar strap over his head and sets it down on stage before he jumps off and stalks in the direction of your table. He’s not sure what he’s going to do when he gets there, but you beat him to it anyway.

You pull your arm free from the asshole’s grip and stand up. Delicate fingers wrap around the glass that is still half full of your drink, and you throw the alcohol in Drunk Number Three’s face.

An angry groan rumbles from the guy’s chest as he rises from his seat. You take the opportunity to strike, pushing the wobbly table at your date, shoving the edge right into his crotch. The groan turns into a whimper as the man bends forward in pain. 

“Get the fuck out of here,” Eddie snarls at the man, pointing towards the door. 

One of the bartenders and a security guard step in and help the drunken jerk find his way out.

Eddie’s pulse is raging in anger, but when he looks down and meets your eyes, anger fades and his heartbeat kicks up a notch.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks. 

“I’m fine,” you say, your voice only intensifying Eddie’s lovesickness. “Thank you. I’m sorry we interrupted your show.”

“No, don’t worry about that,” Eddie says. “As long as you’re okay.”

“I am.” 

The sincerity in Eddie’s words has you giving him a giddy smile. 

Eddie’s not sure what he should do now. Does he say goodbye? Does the band restart the song and finish the show? Does he stay down here with the pretty girl that he wants nothing more than to talk to? 

“You, uh, don’t seem to have a drink anymore. Can I buy you one?”

“I would really like that.”

Eddie grins and motions for you to walk towards the bar. Before he follows, he turns around to look at his friends that he left on stage. Jeff is giving him a thumbs up, Frank is nodding, and Gareth makes shooing motions so that Eddie follows the girl. 

Eddie chuckles before he turns around and follows you to the bar. 

God, I have the best friends. 

[hundredandsix]

just a girl ✩ [ellie williams] ✩

[ loser/guitarteacher!ellie x milf!reader ]

✩ wc: 5.5k

✩ summary: Ellie is your son's guitar teacher with no plans of acting on her fierce attraction toward you. After a long day of lessons, she spots your family at a restaurant. She thinks she may be able to escape the situation without you turning her into a blushing, stammering mess, but your son happens to double as her favorite student and the world's youngest wingman. Ellie gets more than she bargained for after you offer her a ride home.

✩ cw: mdni(18+), Ellie is a complete rizzless loser, sub/switch!ellie, switch!reader, fingering (Ellie receiving), oral (Ellie receiving), strap-on usage (Reader receiving)

a/n - here is the prologue and where the idea originated, but you don't have to read it to understand this.

Ellie was on the verge of passing out. And no, it was not because she hadn't eaten in the past ten hours, though that was a likely contributor. It was because you were there, mere feet from her racing heart and sweaty palms.

She thought she could sneak around you. Your back was turned to her, and if she angled her body right, she could make it to the hostess while remaining beyond your line of sight. Your mother was seated in front of you but she barely even recognized Ellie when she picked up Jackson, your sweetheart of a son, from his guitar lessons.

She had almost made it to the hostess and was about to let out a sigh of relief when she heard it. That cheerful, high-pitched voice full of adoration.

"Mom, look it's Miss Ellie!"

She didn't have it in her to be mad at him. He was her favorite student after all. Her clients ranged in age from ten to sixteen, but she made an exception for little Jackson. At eight years old, he had more discipline than her older students and was more musically gifted than many adults.

And it didn't hurt that he was the sweetest child she had ever met. On his sixth lesson, he came prancing into the studio with a new pair of Converse, shouting "Look Miss Ellie we match!" He made sure to regale her with how he had scratched them up to look just like hers.

So when he turned in the booth, face stained from orange soda, she couldn't help but smile back just as brightly. But his words also drew your attention. Your mother gave a polite wave, but you sent her a wink, long eyelashes fluttering.

Your gaze lingered, and Ellie would have sworn that you looked her up and down. All the way from her half-up half-down hair to the Converse Jackson loved so dearly. Your hand shot up in a half wave, fingers waggling in her direction.

It was hard to breathe when you were looking at her this closely. This had never been a problem for her before, but three weeks ago, your schedule changed. Rather than your elderly mother picking up Jackson from his practices, you were now getting him.

As soon as you opened that door to her studio room, she knew you were going to be a problem. She didn't know whether it was the good kind yet.

Ellie didn't know what she was expecting Jackson's mother to look like but it wasn't that. God, you were gorgeous, and it hurt her even more that she would never be able to have you. But she wasn't that shallow. You were incredibly kind, always checking in on her when you made her so nervous that she couldn't speak. You had to have noticed that she blushed at everything you said and couldn't keep still when your eyes were on her.

Ellie was pulled from her thoughts by Jackson's wriggling form. He crawled right over your lap from his spot in the booth. You tried to stop him, but it was no use. He was on a mission.

"Jackie! Get back here," you said as you dashed after him.

"Miss Ellie! Miss Ellie! Come sit with us pleeeeasse," he shouted as he ran right towards her.

He wrapped his tiny arms around her legs, sending her veering to the right, but Ellie was experienced enough with his hugs that she was prepared.

"Hey, little guy. You been practicing the notes I taught you?" Ellie asked with a gentle pat atop his head.

"Yes! I've been—"

"Jackson," you interrupted.

Your son pried himself from her legs, face turned down and an adorable pout on his face.

"You need to go sit back—"

"Mom! Can Miss Ellie sit with us?" he asked again.

You gave her an apologetic glance, but she hoped you could see that she didn't mind. He was causing a bit of a scene with his loudness, but the other guests seemed charmed by him as well.

You were out of breath, and this didn't skip Ellie's notice. She followed your hands placed on your hips to your heaving chest. Her gaze lingered there. She couldn't help it. She thought about what else she could do to make you breathe that heavily.

When she looked up, your eyes were on her. She'd been caught. Her face was like it was on fire, but this was not unusual when she was talking to you. You quirked an eyebrow at her antics, but that was all you allowed her.

"I'm sure Miss Ellie is very busy," you said, and Ellie's heart soured at your words. She didn't think she could handle sitting in such close proximity to you. All that would be left of her by the end of the meal would be a pile of ashes.

"But," you continued, "it's up to her."

Jackson beamed up at her. How could she say no to him?

"Erm—okay. Yeah, I'll sit with you."

You smiled at that. It seemed genuine, but Ellie wasn't sure if you had some ulterior motive here.

"C'mon!" Jackson shouted again, grabbing her hand.

He pulled her into your seat and began pushing your drink and napkins to the other side. You followed them over to the table and laughed at his antics.

"Wow, what am I? Chopped liver?" you said in mock sadness.

That was such a mom thing to say, and that's when Ellie knew she was absolutely fucked because her heart squeezed at your words.

When you took the empty seat next to your mother, Ellie sat next to Jackson. The seat was still warm from your body heat.

Your mother, who had been otherwise silent this entire time, finally spoke up. "Do you have Jackson's bag packed?" she asked you.

"Yes, it's in the car."

Eager to break the tense silence, Ellie turned to him. "Do you get to go on a trip?"

"I get to have a sleepover at grandma's! And see all of my cousins!"

He suddenly turned very tense.

"But don't worry! I will still be there next week! Because you said I get to learn my first chord."

"That's right!"

The waitress came around the corner, a bright smile on her face. Ellie pretended to not notice the way she rolled her eyes at her addition to the table.

You rolled your shoulders and placed your hands neatly on the table, one wrist crossed over the other. Ellie's eyes followed your hands, tracing down to your nails. They were short.

"Sorry about that. We've acquired another person," you said, tapping your nails on the table.

She couldn't pull her eyes away from her hands. They looked so soft. She wondered what they would feel like dragging down her sides, leaving red lines from your nails.

"Ellie," you said, "she's asking what you'd like to drink."

She ripped her eyes from your hands and fumbled for the menu before realizing she didn't have one. She sat up stick-straight and shoved her hands in the pockets of her oversized pants.

"Right, sorry. I'm fine with water. And I'm actually ready to order if you all are. I already know what I want."

The waitress nodded and went around the table taking orders. Ellie leaned over to help Jackson announce what he had circled on the kid's menu.

Ellie felt dizzy again. She really was starving and it didn't help that you were sitting right in front of her, watching her every move.

"So, Ellie," your mother started, "how is your semester going so far?"

She jumped when Jackson poked her in the side with his index finger. He shoved a yellow crayon in her hand and passed his little menu over, pointing to the tic-tac-toe game. He had already placed his in the middle.

"It's going good so far. My classes aren't as hard as last semester. Maybe I'm just getting used to it."

She drew a circle next to Jackson's X with the cheap crayon. You were watching her and the corner of your mouth turned up in amusement.

"She's a real smart girl, y/n. Top of her class," your mother said, tapping you on the shoulder.

You were busy folding your straw wrapper like an accordion, pulling it apart before pushing the folds back together.

"So I've heard. You're an astrophysics major, right?" you asked.

"Yeah, I am."

Your front teeth sank into the plush skin of your bottom lip. This time you had fucked up because there was absolutely no way you should have known that. She had mentioned a bit of it to your mom but never confirmed what her major was to you or her.

It was your turn to be flustered. You crumpled the wrapper in your hands, rolling it into a little ball.

"I think I saw your Instagram the other day. It was in your bio."

You were saved by the waitress coming around the corner, her arms full of plates.

The dinner went smoothly after that. Small talk was exchanged between the three women as Jackson raved about his grilled cheese and side of broccoli.

Ellie had finished her meal, but her stomach felt empty. She was starved, but not for food. She wanted something... more fulfilling.

"We better get going, Jackie," your mother said, guiding you out of the booth so she could leave.

Jackson didn't give Ellie time to stand. Instead, he darted under the table and crawled under her legs. You sighed, hands at your temples at his antics.

Your mom handed you a fifty, which you swiftly handed back to her.

"It's on me this time, Mom! You're not allowed."

She gave you a stern look, but you crossed your arms over your chest, nose in the air. It became apparent where you had inherited your stubbornness.

"I love you," you said. "Now, come give me a hug goodbye, Jackie."

He ran back over to you and jumped in your arms as you smothered him in kisses. Jackson wriggled in your grasp, trying to escape your affection.

"Be good for grandma, okay?" you said, placing one last kiss to his temple.

He nodded, giving in and snuggling into you further.

"His bag is in my car. You should be able to just grab it. It's unlocked."

With a swift nod, your mother was on her way. Jackson trailed loudly behind her. It appeared he had forgotten Ellie was there, but she knew he would be just as excited to see her next Thursday.

Ellie's head snapped back towards you when she felt a gentle pressure at her ankle.

"I'm happy you decided to join us. He just adores you."

Ellie choked on her own spit when she felt your foot move over hers to rest on top of her Converse.

"Um—anytime Ms. y/l/n. I'm not supposed to have favorite students but he really is a special kid."

A lopsided grin decorated your face, and Ellie found it difficult not to mirror you. She didn't know whether to smile, laugh, or maybe just run away.

"Now, Ellie. What have I told you about calling me that. I'm only a few years older than you, you know? Are you calling me old?"

"N—no, I would never! I just thought—"

You cut her off by placing both your hands over her shaking one and pressing it down on the table. She tried to keep still when you ran the tip of your shoe up the side of her calf.

"I'm just teasing you. I think it's sweet how you always try to be so respectful. Just know that you don't have to be."

Ellie's brain was clouded with you. Your scent. Your hands over hers. And yes they were just as soft as she had imagined. Your foot rubbing against hers.

She let out a shaky sigh and gained enough courage to place her other hand on top of yours.

The waitress came back to remove the dirty plates from the table and take your card. Ellie tried to split the check, but you were faster, sending her a wink as you passed your card to the server.

"You are too nice to me. You let me crash your dinner and now you're paying for my food," Ellie mumbled.

She tried to keep eye contact. She really did, but your gaze was so intense that she had to look away.

"Ellie."

She really wished you would stop saying her name because she couldn't fucking focus and—were you getting closer because she could feel your breath fan over her face?

"You don't have to be so nervous."

"I'm not."

You gave her a knowing smile and separated your body from hers to collect your bag and a few of Jackson's toys he had left behind.

"We should get going," you said, standing from the booth.

"Right."

Ellie stood on shaky legs and followed you to the door. You waved to the waitress on your way out, and she smiled back at you. It didn't seem fair that you had that effect on everyone.

She shook her arms out to prepare for her walk home. It wouldn't take long to get to her apartment. That's why she came to this restaurant. It was only about a five-minute walk away.

Your eyes followed her form, looking for her car in the mostly-full parking spaces. When you came up short you asked, "Did you walk? I can give you a ride back to your place."

"Yeah, but it's not far. I should be okay," Ellie said, scratching the back of her neck.

She felt so hot and it wasn't from the weather. Ellie hoped you didn't notice the sheen of sweat that covered her skin from her nervousness.

You rolled your eyes and threw the passenger door of your car open. She tried not to trace her eyes down your legs as you leaned over.

"C'mon, it'll only take a second. It's getting dark out anyway!"

"Well, if you don't mind," Ellie gave in.

"Not at all!"

Ellie eyed your car and then her apartment complex which she could see from the restaurant. You were throwing stuffed animals and action figures from your front seat to the back of the car. When you deemed it satisfactory, you held out your hand to the passenger seat.

"There you go! Sorry, it's kind of a mess. Jackie insists on bringing all of his toys wherever we go."

Ellie stepped in and you shut the door behind her. It was like something from a movie. Except loser college students didn't usually get driven home by incredibly attractive single mothers.

Your scent was so strong in the car that she almost forgot to put her seatbelt on. Well, that was until you pointed it out, reaching over her to grab the belt and buckle it for her.

It was going to be a long drive home.

"There you fucking go, Ellie. So pretty like this," you said, pumping two of your fingers in and out of her dripping cunt.

Ellie cried out at your words and tried to remember how this happened. Her memory became too clouded with you after you arrived at her complex. You parked in the darkened spot at the back of the lot, not visible during the nighttime. At first, she thought she was dreaming because you put your hand on her thigh when you said goodbye.

She could smell your perfume as you leaned in closer, rubbing little circles on her inner thigh with your thumb. Next thing she knew, you were both in the backseat, you straddling her and shoving her jeans and boxers down her legs.

The sound of your fingers was obscene. The only thing louder was her gasps for breath. It had only been a few minutes, but she was so close. Her fingers tangled in your shirt, trying to pull it off, but you batted her hands away for now.

Her wetness was getting all over your leather seats, and she hoped you wouldn't see from the position you were in. You were straddling her, one leg on either side of her spread thighs. It was a little awkward, but your backseat didn't exactly offer much room.

"So wet. Getting all over me," you teased.

To prove your point, you held your fingers up to her face. She whined at the emptiness you left between her legs. Her slick glimmered in the moonlight, and she resisted the urge to shove your fingers in her mouth. If you had parked closer to the street lamps, you would have seen her flush.

To her dismay, you didn't move your hand back. Instead, you placed your thumb over her clit, moving it left and right lightly. It was the ghost of a touch, so light she could barely feel it. She cried out and bucked forward, trying to increase the friction.

"See, you just needed someone to take care of you, huh? Bet you could cum just like this."

Everything felt so tense. Ellie could feel the coil growing tighter and tighter in her lower stomach, the pleasure growing so fierce that she almost wanted to pull away from it. Her own fingers had never made her finish this fast before.

"Yes—I, I'm gonna—"

And she did.

Ellie gasped, hands flying forward to grab your wrist. Your movements faltered momentarily in what she thought was shock, but that didn't stop her from grinding against you.

Her eyes remained trained on your fingers, admiring your pretty hands and how wet they were from her. Her face felt hot at her actions. She didn't want to seem so desperate.

"There you go. Didn't take much, did it?" you said, helping her grind herself down on you.

Ellie groaned and released your wrist with one of her hands to grab your shoulder. She pulled you closer to her and hid her face in your neck as she rode out her high.

She could feel the heat of your neck against her cheek and it felt so comforting that she thought she could stay there forever. Your laugh pulled her out of her daze as you pried her off of you. You pulled away, but not before noisily connecting your lips in a wet kiss.

Ellis pulled your bottom lip in between her teeth, biting down gently. The groan you let out sent another pang of arousal through her. This wasn't enough. She hadn't even got to touch you yet and she wanted all of you.

"Do you wanna go inside?" you asked against her lips.

Ellie really must have been dreaming now. She was so caught by your words that she almost agreed, but then she remembered. Dina, her roommate, was home tonight.

Dina was chill and likely wouldn't have cared, but she wanted to be spared from the onslaught of questions she would receive the next morning. Was it good? Was she good? How did you score her?

You pulled away, taking her silence as something negative.

"Sorry, I don't mean to push. This is probably a bad id—"

"No!" Ellie said, a little too loudly. Her hands came to rest on your shoulders, holding you in place like you were about to run away.

"It's just—my roommate is home."

"Oh, well we can go to my place. If you're okay with that."

Ellie tried to keep her cool. She really did. But she nodded so enthusiastically, it made you laugh again.

I think it's sweet how you always try to be so respectful. Just know that you don't have to be.

Those were the words on Ellie's mind as she was in your bed, cotton sheets tangled beneath her legs and you crying out under her.

It started in the kitchen, both you and Ellie were too hungry for one another to spend the time walking to your bedroom. Ellie took you against the counter, and when your legs were too tired to support yourself, you guided her to the bedroom.

When you presented the strap to her, clear blue and glittery, she was a little worried you wanted to use it on her. God, she wanted it so bad, but she didn't think she could keep it together if she let you. It was so much already, and she was still in a state of shock that this was even happening.

Instead, you handed Ellie the harness, a shy smile decorating your face for the first time that night.

It took her a few tries to buckle it, her fingers fumbling from the nerves. When you reached over to help her, practiced fingers guided it over her thighs smoothly as if you'd done this hundreds of times before.

She tried not to be jealous about that. There really was no need to be. Ellie had no claim on you. You were just her student's tempting, irresistible mother.

But she couldn't help it. She had only just had a taste, but she wanted you to be hers. She was going to prove to you that you'd never need anyone else after her.

She pushed you back onto the bed and attacked you in a kiss so passionate that your teeth knocked together. Her lips moved to your neck, sucking bruises that you'd likely scold her for later. She liked it when you told her off anyways.

"Please. Hurry up," you said breathlessly.

She sat back on her knees to get a better angle, rubbing the head of the strap over your cunt. You were wet enough that she wasn't worried about hurting you, and her earlier ministrations in the kitchen had prepared you.

She circled your entrance, but moved at the last second, rubbing it over your clit in tight, rapid movements. Her other hand moved over your tits, thumb rubbing over your sensitive nipples.

"Thought you liked it when I was nice to you. You don't want me to take my time?" Ellie asked, growing a little cocky at how ready you were for her.

"No, Ellie. I want you to fuck me."

That was all she needed to hear. She entered you in one fluid movement, and your hands flew to her bare back, digging red lines into the soft skin.

She committed every whine, every groan to her memory. If you never let her do this again, at least she'd have that to think about.

She started off slow, not wanting to push you too hard, but you were begging for more within the first thirty seconds.

"Harder. Thought I said I wanted you to fuck me," you whined.

Ellie rolled her eyes at that, and you reached forward to gently slap the side of her face. She felt like she had done something truly wrong and was ready to do whatever you wanted to make up for it.

"Fine," she said, pulling out of you.

You whined at the emptiness, pushing her back to you by her shoulders, but Ellie shrugged you off. In a display of surprising strength, she grabbed your hips roughly and flipped you onto your stomach.

You caught on and rose on your elbows, arching your back to stick your ass out for her. Looking so pretty and ready for her, she couldn't help it. She placed a sharp smack to your ass, and you cried out, arching into her further for what she hoped was more.

Not wanting to waste any time, she lined the strap up again. She was rough with it, not giving you even a second for you to adjust before she was railing into you.

"This what you wanted, huh? Wanted me to fuck you?" she asked breathlessly, giving your ass another smack.

“Yes! Fuck, fuck, fuck. So good for me, El.”

Ellie almost paused, but didn’t want to disappoint you. Wasn’t she supposed to say that to you? She tried to ignore the way your words sent her absolutely spiraling, but she swore she could feel you clenching around the fake dick.

She decided to make that her mission. No matter what, she wanted to be good for you. To please you.

She regretted flipping you over because now she couldn't watch your face. But seeing your ass slap against her thighs made her throb just as much. If she ground her hips into yours, she could feel the strap rubbing against her clit.

When you threw your head over your shoulder to look back at her, she decided to store this information for later. Your mouth was hanging open, and you let out a little grunt every time she thrust back into you.

And like the tease you were, you fucking winked at her again. But this time, there was no amount of nervousness that was going to keep Ellie from getting what she wanted.

"Wish you would stop fucking teasing me," she said with a pout forming on her lips.

Ellie was so mean with it. She set a punishing pace, knocking the breath out of you as she pulled out all the way and then slammed back in. Her fingertips dugs little bruises into your thighs.

She removed one of her hands from your hip to press on the small of your back, arching you into the bed. You seemed to like this new angle because you let out a string of curses and arched back into her.

Ellie tried to conceal the way her breathing was growing heavier. Sweat dripped from her brow, and she ignored the way her cunt was absolutely throbbing at the view in front of her. She was going to be good.

She snaked an arm around your leg to stroke her fingers over your clit. Maybe you were more experienced than her, but your hands were no match for her guitarist's fingers.

You cried out as she worked over you, keeping a pace so precise and calculated that Ellie was even a bit impressed with herself.

It wasn't long before your moans turned into whines. You shoved your head into your arms, trying to conceal the loudness. "G—gonna cum. Don't fucking stop. Please," you cried out, slamming your hips back into hers.

Ellie couldn't help herself. Against your wishes, she flipped you back over. She didn't give you time to complain. She barely even pulled out before she was back to her toe-curling pace, supporting herself with one lean arm and using the other to rub over your clit.

"Wanna see your pretty face when I make you cum," she panted, green eyes scanning over your features.

Your eyes clenched shut, mouth open in a silent groan as you came at her words. This time she did feel you clench around the strap because it became much more difficult to keep up her pace. Your cunt pulsed around it, forming a heartbeat she wanted the chance to memorize.

She didn't stop until you pushed her away, the combination of her fingers and the strap just on the side of too much. You didn't even give Ellie the chance to catch her breath before you were yanking the harness off of her, throwing the strap somewhere across the room to be dealt with later.

Ellie yelped as you grabbed her lean thighs, pulling her up your body until her cunt was level with your face. Your expression was enough to tell her she was soaked.

You ran your index finger through her slick, grazing the side of her clit and sending a moan tumbling past her lips.

"You're so pretty," you said, eyes focused on her dripping cunt.

Ellie wasn't sure what she was expecting, but it wasn't you pulling her onto her face. She moved her hips up to pull away in embarrassment, but you shoved her back down, groaning into her cunt that she "better sit the fuck down."

Your tongue swirled over her cunt with practiced precision. You knew just when to use the flat of your tongue rather than the pointed tip and how to pull each little groan and whine from her.

She didn't know what to do with her hands, so they hung by her sides in disuse. There wasn't a lot of room to touch you, so she resorted to cupping her own tits, kneading the sensitive flesh as you brought her closer and closer to release.

It was almost embarrassing how quickly you could make her cum. She was so close already, and you had only just pulled her over your mouth.

She tried to warn you, she really did. But the pleasure hit her so fast and all at once, that she didn't have a chance to do much but release one of her hands and tangle it in your hair, tugging gently at the roots.

She didn't think she blacked out, but next thing she knew, she was laying on your bed with your hands stroking over her cheeks softly.

"Don't cry, baby. You did so good for me."

She didn't understand what you meant until her own hand reached up to run over her face. Sure enough, there were tear tracks decorating her skin, a sign of the overwhelming pleasure you just gave her.

You let out a gentle giggle, like the sound of wind chimes, and she couldn't help but follow along with you.

"Wasn't crying in a bad way! It's just—"

"I know. It was a lot, but you took it so well."

Ellie turned her head to the side, not wanting you to see her flush at her words. She felt a little overdramatic. To make up for it, she tried to stand up and grab a towel, but her legs were too shaky. She fell right back against the bed.

You laughed again, pulling her limbs to rest under the cozy blanket on your bed. She felt the warmth of your body cuddle into her for a moment.

"You tired?"

"Yeah," she said, eyes closing involuntarily.

"Let me take care of everything. You stay here and rest," you said, placing a gentle kiss on the damp skin of her forehead.

Ellie didn't wake until the next morning. The sounds of childlike laughter and doors slamming made her think she was dreaming at first. She opened her eyes, rubbing the sleep away from the corners.

She probably should have left much earlier, but she hadn't woken up once since she fell asleep. As a chronic insomniac, this was the most well-rested she had felt in a long time. You would have woken her if you really wanted her to leave, right?

She reached her tattooed arm to your side of the bed but was met with nothing but a pile of wrinkled sheets. Ellie shot up from the bed and began to pull her clothes on. They smelled like the night before: sex and your perfume that she couldn't seem to shake.

She took a moment to shake her shoulders out. Maybe you were making breakfast. She cursed herself for not thinking of it first.

But then she heard you shout, "Jackson, you get back here right now!"

A tornado of movement flew across your doorway, and she thanked whoever was up above that he didn't come into your room.

But perhaps she had expressed her gratitude too soon because Jackson must have seen her. She heard him before she saw him, his tiny feet stomping back towards her. He ran backwards into the room and spun around, mouth open in amazement.

"Miss Ellie! How did you get here?"

You appeared behind him, the signs of sleep still in your eyes. You must have just woken up because you were still in a pair of linen pajamas.

"Um, hi, Jackie!" Ellie said, trying to be casual.

Clearly, she was failing because Jackson turned to you, eyes so wide he looked like a cartoon character. His voice lowered, almost a whisper.

"Mom, if I'm not allowed to have sleepovers, how come you are?"

He crossed his arms as he awaited his response. Ellie's gaze fell anywhere but on you. She had no idea how you were going to handle this, but she trusted your judgment.

You placed a motherly hand on his shoulder, guiding him out of the room and throwing an apologetic glance her way.

"That was so nice of Grandma to drop you off early, wasn't it? Are you hungry? I wonder if Miss Ellie will like my pancakes as much as you do?"

Jackson ripped your hands off of him and ran over to her, taking her larger hand in his small one. She glanced up to see your retreating form. He pulled her forward, running after you with so much force it almost sent her sprawling on the floor.

"C'mon, Miss Ellie! You're taking too long."

She followed after him and caught a glimpse of you tying an apron around your waist as she entered the kitchen. In what seemed to be your signature move, you winked at her, beckoning her forward with open arms.

Yeah, she could get used to this.

[florvaine]

silver spikes and pastel ribbons.

headcannons of Hobie with an opposite aesthetic gf. (afab! reader)

genre: mainly fluff, slight angst, nsfw(?)

warnings: little nsfw if you squint, crying, some kid gets a car lobbed at him 😭

i imaginee the two of you actually met at one of his gigs 🫶🏻

He was on the stage, flicking his roughened fingertips on each string on his guitar, a harsh rift sounding through the amp on the edge of platform as he moves his hand further up the fretboard.

Then he looks in the crowd, right by the barrier of sweaty, headbanging and most likely hammered fans, and you’re right there.

Directly in front of him, pressed against the metal-barred barrier that security was struggling to keep people from hopping over.

What caught him off guard wasn’t only the fact you were fuckin’ gorgeous, but the fluttery, light pink dress that was just above the middle of your thighs. White lace trimmed the v-shaped neckline that was held up by thin, spaghetti straps.

Strips of silky ribbon cascade from the wrap around your waist, dangling pearls and a small-chain necklace decorate your collarbones and shimmer like the sheen of sweat that held stray hairs against your temples and your forehead.

And your shoes - a pair of white, glossy, open-toed high heels that added a few extra inches to your height (Hobie secretly wanted to give you a few other inches), but even with them Hobie could still tell from the stage that he was way taller than you.

He misses a single strum of his guitar, so he temporarily redirects his attention back to the gig, his hickory eyes still wandering over to you from under his mask.

100% got the security to practically hunt you down so you could meet him backstage.

He’s a little anxious because they were taking a while, and he’s slightly disappointed at the thought you already left.

But then there’s a knock at the door and one of the security guards speaks muffled through his private backstage room.

“Hobie, got the girl you were askin’ for.”

The rest is history, really. You were officially dating after 7 painfully long months.

You got along well, even if everything else about each other was contrasting, you’re political ideals, music taste and humour are practically a copy and paste.

The two of you get undoubtably get some stares.

A man clad in black leather and silver spikes and a woman dressed like a doll stood out a lot against the Nike trackies of London.

“Everyone’s staring, Hobie.”

“Ignore ‘em, hun. They’re pissed JD is shut.”

Every now and then he takes you to a more quiet, downtown street with a collection of thrift stores and craft shops.

Hobie’s definitely caught in Hobbycraft at least twice a week 😭😭

Literally loves your style - everything from your jewellery to the way you get your nails done.

He’s whipped ‼️

Loves everything about you, but especially your hair.

If you wear wigs he’s helping you install it, if you have naturally curly hair he’s taking note of each step for later on, he reads the labels of every hair product you own.

I feel like he has a thing for curly hair idk why I just get the vibe.🤭

Hobie definatly told Pav and Gwen about you when you first met, like the next day he’s at the Spider Society talking even more than usual.

“She was stunnin’, I’m tellin’ ya’ now. Really nice eyes,” He turns away from them and mutters under his breath, “And tits.”

Gwen smirks, “You’ve told us, I’m pretty sure.” She nudges Pav, and he’s giggling like an excited schoolgirl.

“Never thought I’d see Hobie have a full-blown crush!” Pav comments.

Hobie hums, a small smile on his face as he stares infront of him. Gwen and Pav share a look before they imitate the way he looks - like a lovestruck idiot.

It’s funny with one of you in the other’s room - Hobie, dressed in dark blues and blacks with an overall threatening aura just sat on your pretty pink bedsheets in your floral-scented room.

Sometimes you’ll randomly go on a tangent about a new dress or concert tickets whilst doing something else, and you’re convinced he’s uninterested.

Next time he’s at yours he had that new dress in a silk scarf wrap, or he pulls the tickets out of one of his pockets.

You’re in the kitchen of your apartment, stirring the milk into your tea as Hobie scrapes butter onto two slices of toast you had put in.

When he’s finished, he slides the plate over to you before leaning back on the counter and looking at your over his shoulder.

“Thanks, Bee,” You pick up the plate, moving it closer to you for easier access to the toast.

There’s two rectangular, shimmery-sheened tickets underneath the circular plate.

You’re shocked, looking at the ticket now in your hand, eyes moving from the words and numbers printed onto it and your boyfriend.

“Hobie, you didn’t have to!” You say.

“You said that ya’ wanted to see them, so I got us tickets.” He shrugs, a small proud smirk on his lips.

Movie nights every Friday after dinner 💕

Sometimes he has to leave early or he shows up later on, but he makes up for the time lost by bringing you your favourite food and drink from the local corner shop.

If you’re in college or uni, he will swing in every break and check in on you and everything.

When it comes to cuddling, he’s the big spoon 95% of the time unless he had a really shitty day.

Like really shitty.

It’s not very often Hobie crys, and even when he does it’s not for very long.

The man prides himself in being Spider-Punk, saving civilians whilst preaching his beliefs to his followers that feel more like a family than fans.

He can only hold on so long, and it’s only a matter of time before he can’t save someone.

Sure, the little boy wasn’t dead, he was in hospital after a car had been carelessly tossed into him by the anomaly he was supposed to contain.

After visiting the boy in hospital, chanting apologies and ‘get well soon’s like a broken record, he goes to the first place he can think of.

Yours.

There was something so special, so serene and comforting in the confines of your cluttered shelves and organised wardrobe pressed against the walls of your bedroom.

Hobie knew it wasn’t the room, but it was you.

You, so different and relaxing. Calming and exciting, understanding and motivating. Anywhere was safe if you were there.

He swings through shadowed alleys, reaching your apartment over the bustling roads and honking horns of the cars below.

Hobie perches on your small balcony, and taps on the window.

In his reflection, Spider-Punk looks back at him. Strong, unbeatable, selfless and stubborn. But as he pulls the mask off, the fabric hanging limp like a ragdoll cat in his had, Hobie Brown stares back at him.

Tattered, exhausted, overwhelmed and in desperate need to be in your arms.

The window opens. His mental image of himself splits away as soon as he sees your face.

“Rough night?” You ask, voice slightly raspy and muffled, yet still as soothing as hot tea and honey on a sore throat.

The routine begins when Hobie nods. He clambers in, he takes off his boots and jacket and leaves them by your desk, his mask discarded somewhere beside them.

You pull out one of his white, soft cotton shirts from your dresser, and a pair of dark grey shorts. He gets changed, you make a cup of tea.

Then he cries. Salty droplets of embodied sorrows paired with the pinch of his eyebrows and the slight quiver of his bottom lip.

Each time a tear drips down his soft cheeks you wipe it away with your equally as soft hands, smearing the liquidated sadness into his now clumpy lashes.

You count sixteen droplets this time before he stops, and you stand up to offer the silk scarf he wrapped your gifted babydoll dress in, and he takes it before wrapping the coarse, black wicks that topped his head.

And then he’s curling his back against your chest, holding the hand of your arm that loosely covers his waist.

Their consciousness fades into two seperate slumbers. A comforting silence drapes over the two lovers, knowing that the other will be there when they awake.

-—-