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seosracha · 9 months ago

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HEART DEFENDER──────

౨ৎ⸻niki x fem!reader

⸻ synopsis, Nishimura Riki was truly and honestly, your sworn enemy, and everyone knew. You two shared lots of things, a friend group, academic rivalry, and most importantly school popularity. Receiving tons of confessions and notes on the daily from your fanboys and fangirls was nothing new. So you can't help but be shocked when he asks you to be his fake girlfriend for that same reason.

genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, highschool au

pairing: popular-footballplayer!niki x popular-fem!reader

wordcount: 11.5k !

tags: underage drinking, foul language/swearing, niki is an asshole, own characters included, y/n and niki are unrealistically popular but bare with me pls, jay is called a pervert😭, kissing

authors note! this was written for my beautiful babygirl , and it was also her idea so props to my pookie yall!!!😛 also no proof read so sorry for any errors!!

A GENTLE HEAT falls onto the silk bed sheets, as a flickering blue light washes over the room, a sound waking you up from the dreamy state. You still had a hard time settling into the new reality that eloped you just a few days back. The summer was over, and so we’re all the exciting things you hadn’t been able to do.

Although you didn’t mind, it brought you comfort to keep your body and mind active. You don’t like to mull over the fact that something is over, because that never brought it back, choosing to focus on every minute that was yet to come.

Maybe that was exactly the reason you’ve become so popular amongst the male population of Alpine High-school, students swooning over your exquisite beauty, tall, well proportioned figure and beautiful mind. Some looks were only hungry for popularity and full of lust, but amongst all, you also found people who truly wanted to know you, and find out what was underneath the pretty shell.

Some would call it cliche, to only stick around people who held the same status as you, or shared a similar popularity rank, but you truly never intended for that. Having two of the most popular students in one team, automatically makes the entirety of the group more desirable and unattainable. You never had control over any of these things, but you’d also be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel even more special.

Your phone vibrates, Song Eunseok’s name displayed on the screen, messages filling up your home screen every second. You smile lightly and press one of them to shoot him a quick reply, preventing him from spamming you with keyboard smashes.

Song Eunseok was one of your best-friends. He was there when others weren’t, and he was always the one to help you endure any pain in life. He was like a bandaid, keeping you safe from any infectious disease but also helping ease the pain, even if it didn’t feel like it at first. The affection in his tone, his words glowing with secrecy and honesty every time he spoke to you, that’s exactly what made him so notable to your heart.

Kim Hana was also one of those people to you. Eunseok was good to you, but he’d never be able to substitute for a girl best-friend. You never treated Hana as a second option though. She wasn’t even a month older than you, but wiser than most. Hana always knew what to say or do, she was like a compass to you. You knew you could never lose her, or else you wouldn’t know which direction to walk towards. Still, behind the smart and intellectual facade, was a joyful and bright girl, who had the most infectious laugh you knew. Her smile was adorable and words of affection- comforting.

Park Sunghoon was also a member of your clique, recruited by Jake who swam alongside him on the school’s swimming team. You’ve never been really close to him, he was more of a friend to you when others were around. That didn’t mean you didn’t care for him though. Sunghoon was different, he was very secretive and smart. He didn’t ever try, but always succeeded. He wasn’t flashy about it either, keeping most of his success to himself.

Jake, who recruited Sunghoon, used to be your best-friend. You grew up with him, just like in every childhood best-friends movie, the two of you did everything together. Just like you, he moved out of his home country in his early years, which was one of the many things you had in common and could empathize about. You decided to go to the same highschool, following the promise you made in 4th grade; that you’ll always stick together. The reciprocation brought you a feeling of comfort and safety, at first you didn’t mind when he started getting closer with Nishimura Riki because you trusted him. You trusted him enough, and turned a blind eye enough until your once best friend wasn’t yours anymore.

You tried to ignore the low pain it gave you, small weebs formed in your mind as you tried to justify Jake’s behavior, arguing that he still speaks to you so kindly. You were still in the same group together, spending most of your days together and laughing sweetly at the smallest things. But instead of calling you, he’d call Niki, instead of hanging out with you on the weekends, he’d hang out with Niki and instead of inviting you as his plus one to events, he’d invite Niki.

That’s exactly why you hated Nishimura Riki, the last member of the seemingly ‘popular kid’ clique you formed.

Niki was equally attractive and popular as you. He embodied a typical, bookish bad-boy character, the smitten look on his face winning girls hearts over every time. He was also a member of the football team, already earning a full ride scholarship for his sports successes. He was already an intelligent boy, but a free entry to college was nothing he’d deny. He was vastly athletic, but always dreamed of going to university. Niki may not have looked the part, but he truly was much more ambitious than many would guess.

He didn’t have many reasons to hate you, but the sole fact that you were unbeatable, the first rank in school always alongside your name. He always stood proudly next to you on class president election day, but always ended up getting hurt when once again, you were chosen. Everyone loved you and even though he had his fair share of fans, he could never compare.

So the satisfaction that taking away your best-friend from you brought him, was enough to console his damaged pride. It was enough to compensate for his stolen spotlight.

You both had reasons to hate each other, and never even considered talking it out, even if you shared a friend group. Passive aggressive comments, and sarcastic remarks were enough to satisfy yours and Niki’s mind.

___________

Niki, with his fair share of popularity, couldn’t get away from constant love letters clogging up his locker, or girls' heartfelt love confessions. With the face of an angel and skills of a child prodigy, it was inevitable in some way. Those same girls were the reason for his incredibly and annoyingly large ego.

“Niki!” the brunette caught his attention with her squeaky and high pitched voice.

He turned around to catch a glimpse at her, only to find her with a pink glittery box in hand. Niki could sense another thought out, insanely touching confession coming his way.

“Do I know you?” he asked, trying his best to not make a rude face at the girl. At the end of the day he was the it-boy at his high-school, and had an image to upkeep.

“You could get to know me. We have chemistry together!” she replied happily, completely neglecting the fact that his reply itself was a bit rude to begin with.

“Is that supposed to be some sort of pickup line?” Niki chuckled, running a hand through his hair as his shoulder fell to his right. He leaned on the lockers trying to remember the girl he was speaking to.

She pulls at the fabric of his blazer, a frisky look on her face “It could be if you want it to be”

He felt his body tensing up, a wave of uncomfort speeding through his veins. He was used to girls shoving themselves onto him, but why couldn’t he be viewed as an equal to them? Just because he has stolen many women's hearts, didn’t mean he didn’t want to be treated with dignity and respect.

He could feel a bead of sweat trickle down his spine as the unknown girl pushed her body closer and closer. His white shirt started to suffocate him, feeling the box she had in her hands press against his stomach.

He could barely read the name Oh Jia off the girl's name tag, before backing away, making her stumble a little bit.

“Don’t you think you’re getting a little too comfortable, Jia?” he asked.

She took a deep breath. She thinks of the many nights she’d seen the boy infront of her standing proudly with a confident smile as he pulls her closer to his body. She is taken aback by the difference, wondering how she could've gotten so easily deceived by her own head to fall for such a fabricated version of Nishimura Riki, She had swooned over the cover, just like many girls before and after her.

This was one of the many daily confessions the boy would receive. Some happened to be much more friendly and cute, even making Niki’s heart a little warmer. Some students just liked to test his limits, see how easy he can actually be. He hated that. He hated not being treated like a human being but rather a school attraction they all got to take turns trying out.

Although you were sworn enemies, the similarity between yours and Niki’s experience love wise, was undeniable.

“What is my pretty girl doing all alone? Where did all your friends go?” Hyunsik, a member of the student council, asked with a flirtatious tone stopping you from getting to your history class.

“Yours?” you questioned with a calm voice, having an idea of who Hyunsik was.

He smiled, wondering why you always played so hard to get. He was gorgeous, so what was your problem to just give into his warm embrace?

“Don’t be like that” he answered, using his hand to push a strand of loose hair behind your ear.

You felt so incredibly uncomfortable. You had known Hyunsik for some time now, as the class president you did have to consult on important issues with him.

“What do you mean, Hyunsik?” you asked, a wonky smile on your face as you tried to give the boy a sign that you weren't interested in him.

“You know what I mean. C'mon Y/n, you don’t have to play so hard to get. We could have fun, I’d make you feel so good and happy” he confessed, his stance radiating confidence which was unbreakable.

He was attractive, but his personality and ego completely erased any chances of scoring a date with you or many other girls.

“I’m interested in someone else” you answered, backing away from him.

“You always say that, yet you're still single” he said, offended by your relectuance.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business though, Hyunsik. I have to go now” you said, not letting him say anything else.

This wasn't the first time boy’s just assumed you’d be easy like that. Just like Niki, you hated it. You didn't mind the confessions, as long as they were kept cute and respectful. You hated being mean, and these situations just forced it out of you.

__________

“Why don’t we call Minjun over here, you’ve been hanging out with him a lot, right?” Hana asked, turning to you. She shuffles to grab her phone, but you stop her.

Niki rolled his eyes at her words, not in the mood to stubbornly try to keep a civil conversation with Minjun. Kim Minjun was a member of the football team, and the number two placeholder in school. He really was handsome- slim face and a defined jawline, dark thick hair, eyebrows not touched once but seemingly shaped by Aphrodite herself, captivating siren eyes that made you fear eye contact, and lastly plump cherry lips. You could go on about Minjun’s beauty for days and not get bored of the topic.

He notoriously fought with Niki for the team captain position, and although never achieved it, still managed to be disliked by Niki. They had a visible rivalry. While Niki tried to beat Minjun for second place, Minjun tried to beat Niki for the team captain spot. The passive aggressive remarks only made it worse, but for the sake of the team they kept, or at least tried to keep it civil.

It reminded you of your friend group. You always tried your best to hide your deep rooted hatred for Niki around everyone, for the sake of their peace. The difference was that Niki never tried. He couldn’t bear a minute without making a sneaky and rude comment towards you. In some way it made you feel better about yourself, knowing that you're mature enough to not bother your friends with your private issues.

“He’s probably with the team” you answered, and she pouted at your response.

“He wouldn’t want to sit with Miss Perfect here, anyways” Niki snickered, poking at his lunch uninterested in what he saw on the metal tray. The pork cutlet seemed awfully indigestible today.

“I think you’re more so the problem” Hana defended, knowing you wouldn’t probably respond to him.

“It’s not like Minjun is perfect, c'mon. He’s an annoying, selfious fuckboy” Jake said, in an attempt to clear Niki’s name.

But why couldn’t he defend you? Did he really dislike you that much?

“He really isn’t though” you responded, and Jake seemed taken aback by your change in demeanor.

It almost looked like he felt entitled to say anything, but you had no right to respond to him unless you weren’t agreeing with him. Maybe that was what was left after your friendship of 10 years, the entitlement.

“Of course you’d say that, because you probably want him like all his other fangirls” Niki smirked, and pushed away his tray.

“Dude, leave it. Can we just have a peaceful lunch period for once?” Sunghoon spoke up, looking up from his English notes.

He usually never said anything whenever these tense situations happened. Sunghoon kept quiet, listening in on the meaningless words leaving your mouths.

“I’m gonna go” you rose from your chair, and picked up all your things. Hana tried to stop you, but her attempts were useless, as you gave her a small smile and left the table.

“Well, I will too then” Niki announced trailing right after you.

He walked towards you, a stupid look displayed on his face. You hated that you didn’t have any power over him, letting him treat you like this for no good reason.

“If you want to continue telling me how awful Minjun is, I really suggest you leave it, cause I’m not going to change my mind” you turned to him, as he stopped next to you by the lockers.

“I just want to get some books from my locker, can’t I?” he tilted his head, and smirked evilly when he saw your annoyed look.

Another thing you hated was having a locker right next to his. Whoever assigned them, must truly despise you. Or potentially pray for your downfall.

He just scoffed at your lack of interest, and started to rummage through his pocket for the small key to his locker.

As soon as both of your locker doors opened, a swarm of notes and pink, red or purple little envelopes fell out. Some were cutely decorated, with adorable glittery stickers, some just a simple paper ripped out of the author's notebook.

You two looked at each other confused. You knew Niki was popular, and Niki knew you were popular, but not to this extent.

It wasn’t an issue, for a long time, but as comical as it sounded this was starting to get annoying pretty quickly. Sometimes the both of you wondered what made you so special, what made you stand out so much. Was it the academic success that no other student seemed to achieve yet? Maybe it was the physical tasks that you conquered without breaking a sweat? Or was it just your appearance that was unique among all?

His mind was rushing, but one idea came out on top of the bubble of thoughts.

______

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Niki” you laughed at his absurd idea, wondering if Jake is somewhere recording this secretly.

Niki can’t yet tell if you’ll buy it or not. The silence sinks into his skin, as the imprisoning walls surrounding you seem to close on him. Did he really just say that out loud?

“Listen, we can just pretend to un-hate each other or something, and then date. It’s all fake, obviously. Do you think I’d want someone like you to be my girlfriend?” he responds. “We can’t tell anyone though”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea” you mumble, and he chuckles.

“Oh please don’t tell me this is about Minjun?”

You look at him annoyed. Why does he suddenly care so much about your relationship with Kim Minjun?

“And what if it is?” you roll your eyes, turning away from his tall figure.

“He doesn’t care about you, Y/n. Can’t you just agree, we both get something out of it” he says, exasperated.

He reaches for your small shoulder, turning your body in his direction. He holds you while silence embraces the both of you. The sun subtly shines through the small window of the equipment room, illuminating his face, a sparkle in his eyes as he looks at you.

“What is in it for me?” you ask quietly, the moment between the two of you, making your heart beat faster.

Niki softens at the concern in your tone.

He knew you liked Minjun, everyone did, but this much? Did you really care for that douchebag? Did you lay on your bed at night, your thoughts always coming back to Kim Minjun? What did he do to steal your cold heart so easily?

“An empty locker, that’s for sure” he lets go of you “And assholes like Hyunsik won’t annoy you anymore, isn’t that enough?” he adds, his tone laced with confidence.

“You know about Hyunsik?” you ask curiously.

He stifles a sharp inhale, realization hitting him.

Did you think he cares? He doesn’t. He couldn’t care less.

He tries to calm his unsteady nerves, preventing himself from saying anything that could damage his uninterested approach to your person even more.

“Eunseok told me,” he answered quickly, his gaze turning to the small window.

You never told Eunseok.

You never told anyone cause this wasn’t something abnormal. Yes, maybe Hyunsik was a bit forward about it, pushing himself onto you, but you just forgot about it after some time.

“Alright’ you clear your throat “Let’s do it”

Niki feels an unfamiliar warmth in his heart, trying to stifle the excitement that took over his body when he heard your words.

“But what about our friends, Niki? Do you seriously think Sunghoon or Jake are that stupid?” you ask

It floods him again; the comfort of his name passing your lips, and he doesn’t know why. He’s never felt this way.

“Hana is a hopeless romantic, she’ll believe anything if you slap a ‘boyfriend’ label on it. Eunseok and Sunghoon don't care anyway, and Jake? I’ll figure it out” he answers, his voice so calm “Everyone else will just believe it as long as we make it believable” he proceeds cautiously, putting emphasis on the ‘we’.

“I don’t get not telling our friends, honestly” you murmured, looking around the room.

He sighed “No offense to Hana, but she’s the biggest blabbermouth I know” he confesses.

You agree internally, not wanting to admit it, too proud of your friendship with the girl.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow” he says after a moment of tranquility, leaving the room after he finishes his sentence.

You watch him step out and leave you alone with all the thoughts and worries.

______

And so he did pick you up.

You wondered if Niki had cleaned up his car for you, remembering the mess last time you were in it. Probably not though.

“Let’s go,” he said, keeping the door open for you.

He grabbed your hand tightly, pulling through the crowd of students gathered in front of the building. Some had a stupid look on their face, wondering how the two of you could ever be dating, some didn’t even budge.

Your chest swells with a torment of emotions, as you feel his warm, wrought hand grip yours. Pride, confusion, determination swarm through your veins, making a mess of your head. You press your knuckles to the warmth of your cheek, flustered by the looks you were receiving.

Your eyes scan the whole building, trying to find Minjun, worried what he’d say when he finds out. You never wanted him to think you were just playing with him, and by the looks of it, that’s exactly what he was thinking when his eyes spotted yours.

A sad look of disappointment decorated his face, as you passed by, holding Nishimura Riki’s hand so tightly.

You screw your eyes shut, chest rising and falling rapidly. You want to tell him everything, you know you could. But there was a boundary you promised to not cross, for yours and Niki’s peace.

“This is bullshit” Sunghoon raises his eyebrows, as the two of you appear in front of all your friends.

“The assignment you wrote for my physics class was bullshit, and I didn’t say anything. This-” he says pointing to your intertwined hands “This is for real, the real deal” he adds proudly.

How long has he been acting?

“When did all of this happen?” Hana asks excitedly.

You didn’t like agreeing with Niki, and even though it was sad to a degree, Hana really was gullible.

You smile “We just started talking, I guess. It really happened naturally”

How long have you been acting?

“But weren’t you just fighting last week? And I thought you had a thing for Minjun?” Eunseok asked. He wasn’t supposed to care.

“No, no, Minjun is just a friend” you answer after a moment.

Niki was surprised at your lack of hesitation, no signs of nervousness.

“Well congrats then. I’m happy for you guys” Jake smiled, and his acknowledgment meant the world to you.

You couldn’t not care for him after all this time spent together. You wished you didn’t care about what he thought, what he was up to, because it was no longer your place to ask or wonder.

“I hope Minjun doesn’t feel sad” Hana ponders, her soft heart melting for the boy.

You laugh at her kindness, but deep down you know she’s right “I doubt. I think I made it clear to him that I’m not interested” you reply in an attempt to calm her nerves.

“I hope so, he’s really a good guy” she mumbles, a look of frustration on her face.

You wonder why.

“He isn’t but whatever” Niki professes, a disgusted tone lacing his voice.

Eunseok laughs “One day anniversary and he’s already jealous”

You never expected them to be so gullible, to fall for such a fabricated lie, but here they were laughing and making jokes about the two of you. It was hard to lie to your friends, especially Eunseok and Hana, but something in your head kept convincing you that this was indeed a good idea.

“You should’ve made a big reveal at the game” Hana acknowledges, a sweet smile on her face as she imagines herself in your position. “Our school would win, everyone cheering you on and then boom- you run up to Y/nnie and kiss her” she tells, a twinkle to her eyes.

Niki laughs, and this time it seems genuine. He likes the thought of that, but can’t quite figure out why. Air is taken out of his lungs as he imagines carefully taking your jaw in one hand, and pressing a sweet kiss to your soft lips, as everyone cheers him on for leading the team to yet another victory.

He can’t be thinking straight.

“That’s a little bizarre don’t you think?” Sunghoon asks Hana, remembering watching something similar with the girl.

Hana shakes her head, and he just chuckles at her persistence “I’m just giving him ideas, subtly”

“Very subtle” Niki answers, and she winks at him.

“Are we still on for the after party at yours?” Eunseok asks, turning his head towards Jake who seems to be totally out of it, as he hurriedly copies Sunghoon's chemistry homework.

“Yeah, yeah. No matter if we win” he mumbles, devoted to a completely different world at the moment.

A small smile forms on your face. You would definitely hold Niki tight, making sure no girl pulls him out of your grasp for a quick seven minutes in heaven. It’s all fake, though. Nothing more than just a pact between two sworn enemies who want a little more peace in their life.

“Even if we lose, we still need to celebrate a good game” Niki smiles, and Eunseok smiles at his attitude.

“With a captain like you my guy, we ain’t never losing” Eunseok winks at Niki, receiving a small laugh and bow from the boy.

You felt guilty. This was the first time in a while when everything felt so gratifying and free amongst your friend group. With the constant fighting and teasing you never seemed to notice the charming dynamic between everyone. It felt like all along the both of you were the problem, and maybe your friends accepted this suspicious relationship so quickly, because it meant they got to experience moments like this once again.

“What do these fucking hieroglifs say, I can’t decipher this shit” Jake grunts with frustration, as he pulls the notebook closer.

Sunghoon laughs and tries to carefully explain every line of text to Jake.

Maybe you were too focused on your own problems with Niki to notice that this is what could’ve been of your friend group.

____

You and Niki seemed to get closer as time passed.

The both of you didn’t even notice it, the barrier between you passing by like a breeze. It came all so naturally, and you never knew you’d have so much in common with the boy you swore you hated.

You would accustom him to his practice sometimes, and he’d proudly show you off to all his teammates. The lines between faking it and being truthful have faded by now, confusing your heart a little. But just a little. Because at the end of the day it was fake.

“I think it’s time you pay me back,” Niki said, a mischievous smile decorating his face.

You looked at him with a confused expression “For what exactly?”

He smiles, and brings his backpack to his chest, rummaging through it to find the key item.

Niki was smart, very smart. He didn’t earn the number three rank for no reason, proudly representing the school on the pitch and in numerous academic competitions. Yet his mind couldn’t quite understand anything written in his physics textbook. He passed by fine, but it never satisfied him to cheat on his tests, and pay Sunghoon to do his homework for him.

“Tutoring? Seriously? And what did you do to deserve it?” you asked, raising your eyebrow.

He smiles widely “Well I haven’t seen any sappy men bothering you, so I think you owe me this one”

“I haven’t seen any sappy girls bothering you either, so I thought we were even” you answer, not giving into his request just yet.

You knew you’d do it. You did everything he asked you to do.

“C’mon Y/n! I need your help, just this one time, please?” he pleaded, a pout on his face “I won’t be able to play in the game this week if I don’t get a good grade on this test” he adds in an attempt to convince you.

You laugh at his desperation, and nod your head “Fine, but you owe me one”

He nods hurriedly, and pulls out all the things you’ll need to give him the greatest tutoring session ever.

“Imagine you’re driving a car” you said sketching a simple diagram “When you hit the brakes, what happens?”

Niki furrowed his eyebrows, and you wondered how he couldn’t comprehend such a simple concept as Newton's laws. It was cute in a way.

“Well I slow down, but that’s too obvious. This is probably a much more complex answer, isn’t it?” he pondered the question.

“No Niki, it’s that simple” you laugh “That’s Newton's first law in action. An object in motion stays in motion unless acted upon by an external force. When you hit the brakes, you apply force to the car, causing it to decelerate”

His eyes lit up in understatement, as he tried to solve another question you threw at him.

“Was it really that hard?” you asked him with a small smile, and he hesitated at first.

His eyes glazed through the notebook, but soon enough he answered “Not really. It was much better when you explained it rather than Ms. Lee”

“I’m glad” you answered “If it’s really that bad, you can ask me for help”

“It really isn’t that bad though” Niki answered, with a chuckle.

“Oh c’mon you don’t even understand Newton's laws, it is bad” you reply.

“Okay you geek, I get it. But I thought I have to deserve your tutoring?” he questioned, a small smirk on his face.

“You gotta help out a dumb bitch once in a while” he pretends to be offended at your words.

Not so long ago, he’d probably blow up at you for those words. He’d probably make a scene, resulting in everyone being uncomfortable for a good two days. This time was different. You were different.

“The way you talk to me- it’s unlike you” you inquire suddenly, after a moment of calming silence.

“How come?” Niki asks, not raising his gaze from the workbook.

“Your voice is softer” you smile, and he can’t help but reciprocate.

It brings him a weird comfort. The words passing by your lips, make his heart warmer, a trickling yet pleasing feeling in his spine. He can’t quite pinpoint the moment you touched his mind so intimately, erasing any barrier between you and him. Being with you felt so easy. It feels so easy, that he even forgets why he hated you in the first place.

“Are you coming to my game?” he asked, a new found passion for physics coursing through his veins as he solves yet another problem with ease.

You looked at him adoringly “Obviously”

He chuckled “I’m glad” he looked up at you “But I thought you hated football”

Well you did. You hated it because Niki played it. But even if he didn't ask you, you’d come.

“I just don't understand it, that’s all” you gave him a half smile, looking through his textbook for any more challenging questions for Niki to solve.

“You don't have to be there if you don't want to, Y/n”

You seem to enjoy the way your name slips his lips so delicately.

“No no, I want to be there for you, and I think It’d be sus if I didn't show up. Plus, Hana has some new crush and wants to see him play” you chuckle, and so does Niki, noting that the girl falls in love with anyone and everybody.

“Is it Jay? I’ve seen them mingling before” he questions and you shake your head.

“Jay was last month, old news. I think his name is Sungchan? Or Seunghan, I don't know” you ponder the question, going back to that one conversation you had with the girl about her new love interest.

The possibility that he’s also not the guy she likes now is very high-her heart swooning for any man that gives her the time of day.

Hana was gorgeous and incredibly sweet. No wonder she had a new talking stage every week, no boy being able to handle her.

“Sungchan. He’s a good guy. I can approve of him, definitely better than Jay” he recalls many situations including Jay, where the boy proved himself to be absolutely useless and weird.

Maybe it was his team captain complex, but Niki seemed to notice many things that others didn't. His duty was to take care of his teammates, so catching onto the tiniest things was inevitable.

“What’s wrong with Jay?” you question, and he laughs wondering if the words will even peer out of his mouth.

“He’s like, fucking perverted” he laughs “Well maybe not that badly, but still, he’s just proper dodgy”

You're shocked at his admission, and internally glad your best-friend got over him so quickly.

Your conversation with Niki seemed to flow so easily. You never had to try hard, something always slipping off your tongue, his personality making it so easy. You never thought you’d have so much in common with Niki, so much to talk to him about. You were so fixated on something that was beyond his control, instead of pissing Jake off for being a horrible friend.

____

“I need to go to the bathroom quickly before the game starts” Hana said hurriedly, her small figure rushing towards the bathroom, making you smile to yourself.

You blush. You remember the brief mention Hana made, expressing the want for a more romantic expose of the relationship between you and Niki. You wonder if Niki remembers too.

Usually you never cared for the highschool football games, skipping in order to study more or spend time with your best-friend. This time was different, you felt like a trophy to your oh-so-fake boyfriend, excited to see what comes after he scores a winning touchdown.

“Can we talk?” Minjun’s voice takes you by surprise, making you stop in a halt.

“Uh, sure” you reply, taken aback by the sudden serious tone and demeanor, knowing him from the bubbly personality and sweet voice.

“I know you’re faking it” your heart sinks “Why are you doing this? Why are you doing this to yourself? Seriously, Niki?” he asks, and you go completely silent, trying to figure out a reasonable answer to his accusations.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Minjun,” you say after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

A frown tugs at the corners of his mouth. He didn’t expect that reply. He doesn’t know what he really expected in the first place.

“For whatever reason you are doing this, you could’ve just asked me. Why didn’t you ask me? I would’ve helped you, no matter how stupid it is” he kept going, and it felt like you were digging yourself deeper into this lie.

He remembers standing in this same place, your hand hitting his arm playfully, your eyes lighting up at anything he said. In some way, he feels just as barren and vulnerable in your silence as he had that day.

“Minjun, I think you should go join the rest of the team. They’re probably looking for you” you answered, wondering why Hana hasn’t come to save you by now.

“I really liked you Y/n. Like really fucking liked you. I don’t know why you're doing this, especially why you’re helping out that asshole Niki” he added quietly, as Hana came up to the two of you.

“Minjun!” she smiled at him, and he forced one himself “Fighting Minjunnie! I’m rooting for you! We both are!” she cheered.

“Surely” he said, leaving the two of you.

Hana turned to you confused with Minjun's sudden ignorance “Did you two fight or something?” she asked.

“It’s nothing. I think he’s just stressed out” you replied calmly, leading the girl out to the bleachers.

You tried to focus. You tried to be the perfect (fake) girlfriend for Niki, as he played one of his most important games, but Minjun’s words sunk so deep. They were all you could think about.

You couldn't quite figure out why you didn't just admit it. Why didn't just tell him everything and end the bet with Niki? You wanted to so badly before.

“Sungchan is playing like a bitch right now” Eunseok commented, disappointed with his friends performance.

“Don't say that, Eunseok!” Hana slaps his forearm and he laughs at her anger.

At least you knew she was still crushing on him, instead of Jay.

“No seriously, what is going on with that man” Sunghoon said, squinting slightly, his eyes trailing behind Sungchans figure.

Hana kept hushing them, begging for her friends to not speak so badly about her soon-to-be husband. You found it adorable, noting to ask Niki to set her up with him.

“Our boy is doing so well though. Maybe he actually needed a girl in his life” Eunseok smiled at you.

You felt a heat rush to your cheeks at his words, wondering if he actually performed any better this time.

Maybe he was trying to show off in front of you? Or make you proud?

“He’s been training like crazy” you say, and they keep hyping him up.

“Jakey, are you okay?” Hana asked the boy sitting next to you, concerned when she noticed his tired face.

He smiled “I’m fine, Hana. Don’t worry” he said fondly “Look Sungchan is waving at you” he pointed, the girl immediately turning her figure towards him to wave back.

“Did you just see that? He waved at me! Sungchan waved at me!” Hana gleamed excitedly, Eunseok looking at her with disgust.

“I can’t believe you like his bitchass” he half-smiled, shaking his head in a playful act of disbelief.

“Aren't you two friends? Oh I’m so telling him about this” she replied, and he put his hands up.

“Maybe your fantasy will come true” you inquire, and Hana’s mind races back to the moment she imagined a dreamy kiss on the field.

“With the way he’s playing, I doubt there will be anything to celebrate” Jake said, and Hana hummed tiredly.

“Can you guys leave him alone? He’s tired, okay?” she mused, and everyone nodded, done with teasing the girl.

You can’t help but stare at Niki. Even with the heavy gear, he still manages to look good. When did he get so attractive? How come you’ve never noticed the pretty little mole on his chin, his gorgeous lips that begged for your touch, and eyes that grew whenever he talked about something he loves. He was right in front of you this whole time.

You practically begged for Minjun’s attention just a couple weeks back, yet now you felt yourself fading away from the feelings for him. You can’t bring yourself to come up with any conclusion, or to bother with distractions, but why? Why was it so hard to just accept the truth as it was: you wanted Niki to want you.

The game was nearing the end, and Niki could already smell the victory coming his way. He wanted to make you proud, he wanted to see your smile while you ran up to him, praises spewing from your mouth as he hugs you tightly. He hated that it was all fake, the realization dawning upon him; he wants you to want him.

But he knows deep down that it’ll never be the two of you.

A loud horn breaks your trail of thoughts, the audience screaming happily as Niki scores the winning touchdown. It was just like how you imagined, wondering if he’ll actually kiss you now. You know you wanted him to.

He took off his helmet, his hair ruffled, beads of sweat falling down his face, but a wide smile when he spots you with a wide grin striding towards him. It’s just like he imagined.

He doesn’t know what to do. Everyone is looking, and this is the moment he could victoriously hold you. It would make his ego grow, the perfect highschool popular kid image never dwindling, but what would you think of it? God what if you pushed him off of you in front of everyone.

As much as he could prevent things from happening or predict anything, he couldn’t have known that you would be the one to initiate his deep rooted fantasy. He couldn’t have prepared himself for your pretty lips that pressed against him in a chaste, sweet kiss. You felt so good against him, and he couldn’t find himself pulling away. He never expected himself to enjoy such a fucking cliche moment- but here he was, wanting more and more.

He wants to tell you everything in that moment- how he wanted this too, how he’d imagined your lips against his, and how he wants to kiss you everywhere. He knows he could. He’d even blame it on the slip of his unruly tongue. Yet there was a boundary he’d have to walk upon, a fear of losing you prevailing his selfishness. He knows he won’t.

“Wh-” he tries, and fails to still his breathing. Niki hopes you can’t hear the tremble in his voice “How was it?” he asks, his voice unsteady. He doesn’t care though.

“Your game or the kiss” you smile, and he wonders how you can be so calm about this.

He smiles shyly “Both”

“Stop” you laugh and he feels himself float above his body “You did great”

“All for you” his response is amorous.

Niki can’t help but laugh at your silence, watching you replay those words in your head. He pats your head, and throws his arm over your shoulder.

How could any of this possibly be fake?

“Good fucking game dude” Eunseok exclaimed, with a bright smile on his face, as everyone else decided to join you by Niki’s side.

You looked around, a giddy and gleeful Hana, hugging a tired and sweaty Sungchan, as he smiled at her affection. Everyone had happily come down to congratulate the team, but Minjun was nowhere to be seen. Maybe you never intended to hurt him, but you so obviously did.

“Jake you better fucking continue this energy at your disgustingly rich mansion” Sunghoon warned, and Jake smiled at his words.

“You don’t have to worry about that” he replied contentedly, and you were glad to see him like this.

Jake was rich. Like really fucking rich. To the point that he was offended when ‘eat the rich’ was trending, defending that he didn’t choose this life. His mansion in the hills was the go to spot for summer and any other party.

But then again, it’s not like he didn’t have people to clean up after everything goes silent.

_____

“Y/n!” you turned, your eyes meeting Wonbin’s, as you entered the kitchen you knew better than anyone present.

You smiled, as the boy moved in your direction holding a red solo cup.

Wonbin was your designated drink mixer and party buddy for whatever event hosted by whoever. You wouldn't call him a close friend, rather a person you’d talk to only on a special occasion.

“Where your boyfriend at?” he asked with a grin, making you chuckle.

The word didn't make your heart feel weird anymore. It felt so natural, normal, and sometimes you’d even forget it was all fake. For the past couple of weeks you’ve learned to forget easily, not wanting to pick apart Niki’s actions to maybe notice a pattern. You didn’t want to accidentally misinterpret.

“Probably playing some stupid game in the living room” you sighed, hoping to get a little more out of him this time.

You knew that the fake relationship was coming to an end, it already had gone on for way too long.

“Mhm” Wonbin hummed, resting his body on the kitchen counter “It’s fake isn’t it?” he asked, taking you by surprise.

You had absolutely no idea what to say. Wonbin really wasn't a part of any friend group you knew or were in, so what was the shame in telling him the truth? But it’d hurt your pride too much to say the truth out loud.

You avoided eye contact, not knowing what reply would secure your safety and not damage your pride. Your silence made Wonbin laugh “C’mon, you can tell me”

“It’s so embarrassing” you admit, and he shakes his head.

“Not really. There’s plenty of girls who dream of this whole fake dating type of shit” he defended, and it made you smile lightly.

He was right. There were girls out there who fantasized about a fake relationship, and there definitely were also girls who dream about a relationship with Nishimura Riki.

Even though you initially hated his guts, maybe you were lucky after all?

“I just can't comprehend the fact you chose Niki out of all people to be your fake boyfriend” he chuckled, and took a sip of his own drink.

“It was his idea, I promise” you replied, and Wonbin mouthed a ‘no fucking way’, unable to imagine Niki, the person who swore he hated everything about you, ask you to be his fake girlfriend.

“People can be really annoying, and I guess we just had some things in common after all” you added, and he nodded, still trying to visualize the situation you described.

In a way it felt good to tell someone. You had been hiding it for so long, the lies eating you alive.

It had been so long that you didn't even know what had become of this initially fake relationship. The line had already been blurred a long time ago, and it was hard to move along it at this point. He had done so many things, in private, that you didn't know where you stood anymore.

“I can tell you actually like him” Wonbin admitted, once again taking you by surprise “The way you talk about him, it’s different”

“You act so smart and psychological, it’s so annoying” you huffed, and turned away from him, chugging the drink he had previously made for you.

He laughed “The truth hurts, doesn't it?”

“I don’t like Niki” you said, trying to sound as confident as you could, but Wonbin saw right through you anyway.

He didn't want to continue the topic, knowing he had already exhausted your limits. You also knew that no matter what, admitting something like that out loud wouldn't be easy either.

The built up hatred and anger you had for Niki, couldn't have just disappeared so easily after a couple conversations and hangouts. But it did. And it frustrated you so much.

“You guys playing spin the bottle in the living room with us?” a red faced Hana asked, peeking her head into the kitchen slightly.

“With us, meaning?” Wonbin asked, making Hana slightly stumble into the kitchen.

She started putting down her fingers “Well me, obviously” she smiled “Sungchannie, thank god” she let out a steady, thankful breath “Some girls, Oh Jia, Lee Chae, I don’t really recognize the rest. Oh, and Eunseok, Yang Jungwon, Minjunnie and some others” she went on, her drunken state making the explanation much longer than it should've been.

“No, no, no! Niki too! Y/n you need to come!” she exclaimed, eyes wide. She took your hand and pulled you with her.

You looked at Wonbin pleadingly, and with a small smile he trailed right behind the two of you. He always claimed to be ‘too old’ for those type of games, but always ended up staying till the end of any.

Park Wonbin was truly full of shit.

Your eyes met Niki’s as he sat in the circle, his back pressed against the couch. You looked at him, mouthing ‘what are you doing’ and he pointed to Oh Jia sitting across from him.

You knew she liked him, and it definitely didn't make you happy.

“I can see some couples here, yall into shit like this?” Jungwon asked, eyeing not only you and Niki, but Hana and Sungchan who seemed to have already made the news that went around school.

You chuckled quietly and shook your head “It’s nothing that serious, just a stupid game”

“It will be serious for you soon” Jia mumbled, her friend turning to her with a shit eating grin.

Oh if they only knew how absolutely out of it they looked. What the fuck were they even talking about anyway.

“I don’t think we should be playing this” you whispered to Niki, who previously patted down a seat for you next to himself.

“Look how many people are playing, doubt me or you will get chosen” he smiled, and you nodded.

Still, isn't the sole fact you are even agreeing to participate weird? Shouldn’t you be mingling in a closet somewhere deep inside the house? God what was he thinking. This was so unbelievable, and you weren't surprised that Wonbin had caught on.

“Me first!” Hana cheered excitedly, as Eunseok had finally brought a bottle to play with.

You looked over at Sungchan, who had a sad expression on his face. You could see his eyes praying on the bottle to land on him, his hands trembling with each spin. It was cute.

The Gods above must have heard his prayers, the bottle landing on him with no doubt.

He smiled and leaned into your bestfriend to plant a quick kiss on her lips. She pouted and grabbing his head, pushed for more. Maybe she was drunk, but you knew she’d remember this well. Although a witness, you’d hear about it for a long long time.

“I’m guessing you don’t want to spin, Sungchan?” Eunseok chuckled, and the boy holding onto Hana, shook his head no.

“Two players down so quickly” a boy with black hair, who you didn't recognize, commented.

While Jungwon went in to spin, your eyes caught Minjun’s. You couldn't read him, his expression stone cold. He was either mad at you or didn't care. That’s the thing, you didn't know.

“Stop looking at him” Niki whispered, cutting your moment with Minjun short.

“I think he’s mad at me” you said, and Niki furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Why?” he asked, eyeing Minjun down.

“He figured it out, you know, figured us out” you replied, putting emphasis on the word ‘us’ “I didn't admit, obviously, and that’s why I think he’s mad. He’s convinced I played him on purpose” you added, and Niki’s gaze softened.

“I’m sorry” he said quietly, his eyes falling onto his lap.

You looked at him confused, “What are you talking about?”

He finally looked over at you, his face displaying a half smile, that felt cold to you “I ruined your chances with Minjun. I guess I was only thinking about myself back then, so I’m saying sorry. I can talk to him when this is over” he answered, and you felt your heart break.

He didn't like Minjun, you knew it very well. Minjun knew it too. But somehow he felt bad for the both of you. If only he knew how much you didn't care about Kim Minjun at this moment. How much you actually cared about the boy next to you. Maybe if he knew he wouldn't feel so sorry, you thought.

“You don't have to be sorry, Niki. We both wanted this” you smiled, and squeezed his hand.

“I can tell Niki really wants to go now” Sunghoon exclaimed, and hurried Niki to spin the bottle.

The boy hesitated, looking over at you. You nodded for him to go ahead with a smile. God was this weird? You agreeing to your (fake) boyfriend playing fucking spin the bottle. Not only that , but playing with him. This was so stupid.

He took the small soju bottle, and spinned it lightly. He prayed it would fall on you.

Or one of his bros, no homo of course.

The music was blaring, and you hoped that bottle could feel your intense stare, successfully landing on you.

As much as luck was on Sungchan’s side today, he seemingly took all of it with him earlier. The bottle pointed straight at Oh Jia, the girl who was known for her little obsession with Niki.

She looked at you with a disgusting smile, and moved her body towards Niki. He looked at you, and you didn't even know what to say. You couldn't tell him no, he wasn't yours after all.

“Sorry, Y/n” she muttered, and you felt your blood boil at her annoying, high pitched voice.

She moved even closer, but her actions were stopped with Niki moving the bottle's nozzle to point at you.

He didn't even let you or Jia speak, eagerly going in to kiss your lips he missed so much. It hasn't even been 3 hours since you initiated the first one, but his lips starved for your touch. You could feel it. You could feel the desperation in his movements. The taste of his chapstick mixing in with the saliva, it was much more passionate than last time.

“Payback for last time” he mumbled, pulling away, his voice unsteady.

You looked at him dumbfounded. What the fuck did he just do? Was this another stunt to show off his cool, popular boy persona, cause it seemed just like that. But you couldn't blame him either, you started it.

No matter what, it felt good, and you wondered how to get yourself to stop.

“That’s cheating!” Jia’s friend exclaimed, crossing her arms.

“The bottle is clearly on her, I don't know what you're talking about” Wonbin defended, and you smiled at him.

Jia huffed, leaving the game along with her friend.

“We’ll leave too” you said, watching them go upstairs.

Jungwon sighed “I’m forced to kiss the boys now”

You looked around, not a single woman in the circle that was initially full.

You pulled Niki’s hand, taking him to an empty room. He felt confident at that moment, rehearsing his confession in his head. He was going to tell you. He was going to tell you, and it was going to be amazing. You’d listen to him in awe, and then agree to be his actual girlfriend.

“I have something to tell you” he said, as you closed the door behind yourself.

He sat down on the bed, and you stood in front of him “Me too”

“You go first” he smiled, and you looked out the window, the words lingering at the tip of your tongue.

You wanted to tell him how you actually felt. But you knew you couldn't. You were enemies, nothing more.

“We should end this,” you said after a moment of silence.

_____

Things had gone back to normal.

You didn’t expect much from Niki, guessing he’d either be overly nice to you, expressing his thankfulness for helping him get rid of annoying fangirls, or go back to being annoying himself.

But he was neither. He didn’t say anything. Just like he didn’t say anything that day, he had gone completely quiet ever since. Instead of teasing you, he ignored you.

He ate lunch with the football team, and it hurt you to see him laugh purely with them. It even seemed like he had gotten along with Minjun, which confused you even further. They hated each other, but now? It seemed like they were just laughing at your misery, getting high off of seeing you like this. Was this just a huge plan to get you looking like a complete loser?

Maybe he should’ve been sorry that day, not only did you lose Minjun, but everyone of your fanboys at this school. That sounded awful, but it was partially true.

You two had only revealed the 'breakup' to your closest friends, not exactly reaching any agreement regarding the rest of the students.

You could pretend to be mad at him in front of your friends, but it hurt you so much. It hurt to see him behave like this towards you, knowing you did nothing wrong. You two were never real, so why was he so different so suddenly. You just hoped that it was a performance for your friends to make it more believable, but as days went by, you started to doubt it.

“This is a sign that I shouldn’t regret not dating Hana,” Sunghoon chuckled, looking over at the table Niki was seemingly having more fun at. He never laughed like this with all of you.

Was it all for show?

“Fuck off” you mumbled, looking down at your lunch, which was vastly unappetising today.

“It’s not your fault, Y/n, don’t worry. For all I know, it was probably his fault anyways” Jake said, which made you suddenly look up from your food for the first time in a while.

“You defending me?” you chuckled, and he shrugged.

You looked over at Niki once again, attempting to catch him looking at you too.

But he can’t. He can’t bear to look at you. He can only think about the dark heat of that room, your words ringing in his ears. Resisting the searing force that wanted, more than anything, to try and tell you again.

“God, this is so annoying!” Hana exclaimed “Y/nnie didn’t do anything, and he’s acting like a pussy all of a sudden”

She pouted, a weird vibe circulating all of you today. It felt like you were mourning him in some way.

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, a text message from Minjun lighting up your homescreen. It was ironic, a picture of you and Niki on your lock screen, a message from Minjun decorating it.

Minjun: Can we talk?

You thought about replying, the scenarios of him playing a stupid prank on you along with Niki replaying in your mind. Nevertheless, you texted back a short confirmation, and locked your phone.

You could feel his eyes on you, as you set your phone down on the table.

…

“What did you want to talk about?” you asked, your voice unsure of the situation.

It felt familiar, meeting in the equipment room, but this time instead of Niki who had the prettiest face out there, it was Kim Minjun.

“I knew it was fake” he said, and you felt a heat rise to your cheeks.

You looked away from him, your eyes landing on the window. The sky was gray, the sun no longer shining in through it.

“I don’t want to talk about this again, Minjun,” you sighed, tired of the topic already. Especially tired of talking about it with him.

“No that’s not the point” he stopped you from leaving, you turned towards him once again.

“Then what is it Minjun? Did Niki tell you all about it? Did he tell you how stupid I was to fall for him, even though it was all fake? Did you get me to come here only so you could make fun of me for being so naive? Is that what it is?” you blurted out. You had suddenly lost control over your words, your response coming out much harsher than you intended.

“What are you talking about? Do you seriously think I’m plotting behind your back with Niki?” he asked hurriedly.

Now that he said it, out loud, it sounded so stupid. You knew Niki long enough to know he hates Minjun more than he has ever hated you, and would never ever make any deal with him.

“Maybe” you huffed, turning from him “I don’t know Minjun. Can you just say it already?”

He sat down on the chair in the far right corner, his hand signaling for you to come closer, patting down the chair next to him.

“I guess I did sort of figure it out, the fact that what you and Niki had was fake. But he told me about it himself recently. He also said you didn’t intend to hurt me, and that he forced you to do this whole fake dating thing” Minjun relayed the message, and you didn’t know Niki would remember your conversation during that stupid game.

Niki was evidently mad at you for ending things with him, but encouraging Minjun to try with you once again? That was what pissed you off the most, you couldn’t figure him out in any possible way. One day you can’t figure out the actual intention behind his words, exchanging sweet words and kisses, and the other, going back to complete strangers. Not even enemies, strangers.

“He really said that?” you asked, and Minjun nodded “I really didn’t want to hurt you Minjun. I’m sorry for leading you on, in some way. I should’ve never agreed to it in the first place” you add, avoiding eye contact with the boy.

You hear him chuckle, and with a furrow to your eyebrows you look up at him.

He smiles “It’s not your fault I already know that much. I shouldn’t have blown up on you before the match like that anyways. It truly is none of my business who you hang out with” he assured, and it made you feel a little better.

“I know, but I just hope you can still speak to me comfortably after this” you gave him a small smile, still unsure of your situation with him.

“I’m not going to try and get with you again though, don't worry” he said calmly, and although you knew it, it still felt weird to hear.

You chuckled “Not to sound selfish, but why? Am I not cute anymore?” you pouted sarcastically, and he laughed.

“I can see you like him, like a lot. I even felt stupid for saying those things to you, cause you made it so believable at the party. The way you look at him, the way you speak to him, that’s not fake. All of it is real, and I wouldn’t want to stand in the middle of that” he answered, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

And you thought you were good at hiding it.

“Niki doesn’t feel the same though” you gave him a sad smile, fiddling with the material of your sweater.

“You think so?” he asks, but it doesn't necessarily sound like a question.

You hum in agreement, and he chuckles lightly “The same goes for him. Trust me it’s real. I can see it, hear it and feel it. The way his voice was so sad yet hopeful when he spoke to me about you, I know he likes you. Niki is just really stubborn, and he’d rather live in misery and not tell anyone instead of just admitting his feelings to you, or honestly anyone else” he explains, and you feel your heart start to beat faster.

Was he right? Did Niki like you? Or did Minjun have a terrible judge of character and all this way a complete bullshit.

“What should I do then? Gosh this is so annoying” you sighed, combing your fingers through your hair.

“Tell him? What else is there to do? If I’m wrong, which I’m not” he smiled proudly “-and he doesn’t like you, I owe you big time” he offered.

“I don’t know if I should take that risk, though” you said, and he rolled his eyes playfully.

“Do you really want it to be like this for the rest of highschool? God, if he doesn’t like you, you’ll just find someone better”

Easier said than done.

But maybe he was right. At the end of the day you had nothing to lose, so why not just tell him?

“Fine” you grumble, and he laughs, taking your hand to pull you out of the room, before any teacher finds you.

_____

You had left a note in his locker the next day, too scared to face him yourself.

You waited, hiding your body behind the huge column, peeking to see if he had come to grab something from his locker already.

You felt like one of his fangirls. Giggling to yourself, as you awaited the arrival of your mighty savior, Nishimura Riki, hoping you are the one he picks. Hoping that he reads your note, and whispers an ‘I like you too’ rosy cheeked, hot breath and all.

How did you get like this? You curse yourself for letting something so seemingly small, so innocent, writhe under your skin and possess your mind.

You didn’t catch it, lost in your mind, envisioning the numerous scenarios that could occur after he receives your note.

He sighs with annoyance, a note filling his locker, it had been so long since he received one, it felt unfamiliar. Niki was frustrated, hoping that the notes weren’t making a sudden comeback.

He opens it, curious as to what it may be. He couldn’t help it, wanting to remind himself of the feeling reading confessions like this brought him. But what he didn’t expect was to see your name written on it.

He thought it may have been a prank, a stupid way to get you back together made up by your dear friends, but it wasn’t. This was your handwriting, the same one that wrote all his physics notes and study guides.

‘Niki, it’s Y/n. This is weird isn’t it? Like me writing notes to you. I hope you don’t see the pink envelope, and throw it out like you always do. But I’ll know if you do, anyways. Well first of all I wanted to apologize. I don’t even know what for, so this may be stupid, but I feel like I should. You looked so sad, and I know it’s because of me. So I’m sorry, Niki. If I did something wrong, something to hurt you, please tell me! Anyways, I wanted to tell you something. I like you Nishimura Riki. I’ve liked you for a long, long time now, but I myself didn’t know it just yet. But I’m saying it now, and I'm very much sure of it. I guess it took some stupid physics tutoring, geeky Wonbin and finally Minjun whom you hate so much for me to realize. God, maybe I shouldn’t talk about him in a note where I confess to you? Forget it. I didn’t kiss you that day to show off, I kissed you because I really freaking wanted to. And it felt so good when I did. So please don’t think I ended things with you that day because you kissed me, no, not at all. I guess I just couldn’t stand this relationship being fake, because to me, all the things I did were real. You don’t have to reciprocate, or even say anything, I just wanted you to know. And I would hope you feel the same, but it’s okay if you don’t’

His mouth runs dry.

It explodes in his chest all at once; how bad he wants to grab a fistfull of your blazer, stroke his fingers against your ivory jaw, and kiss you senseless. He would rub his thumb against your swollen lips, and tell you how much he likes you.

He looks around, spotting your shoe slightly peeking out from behind the column a little ahead of the lockers.

“Baek Y/n!” he shouts, and you're suddenly brought back to reality.

Your mind had been rushing for so long, you didn’t even notice Niki walking up to his locker, and managing to even read the whole note.

You slightly peek your head out, and catch his eyes already looking at you. He strides towards you quickly, and you can’t tell if he’s mad or happy. He holds the note in his hand tightly as he stands in front of you.

“What is this?” he smirks, and you still can’t tell if he’s about to make fun of you or return your feelings.

You shrug, looking away from him.

“It’s cute. You even put those stickers we bought at the stationery store on it” he points out, chuckling, and grabs your hand so you can face him again. “What do you think I’ll say now?” he tilts his head, and you find it incredibly attractive.

“I don’t know” you murmured, unsure of the situation you have gotten yourself into.

“Let’s see” he scans the note again “I think I like you too” he smiles, and you don’t know if he’s fucking with you or not.

“You think?” you ask, copying his action by tilting your head slightly.

He laughs “Are you really going to make me say it?”

You nod with a smile “Mmm”

“Yes Y/n, I like you. I don’t think I like you, I definitely like you. I’ve also liked you for a long time, but I didn’t want to admit it because I knew you probably didn’t. And that day, when you ended things, I wanted to tell you. But I’m glad you did it, even if I had to wait a little longer. That fake relationship was fucking with my head big time” he answers, and you feel stupid for not letting him speak first that day. You could’ve avoided this whole misunderstanding.

But things happen for a reason.

“Are you being for real?” you ask, and he chuckles.

He grabs your shoulders “Very real”

You pull him closer, tightly embracing his body. He smiles, the familiar scent hitting his nose. Niki’s cheeks are glowing red, and he can’t hide his toothy smile.

“So would you want to be my girlfriend, like my real girlfriend” he asks, his voice muffled by the material of your sweater.

You laugh lightly at his tone “I don’t know…. You tell me” you tease, and he pulls away to look at you with a small pout.

“Cmon, just tell me” he pleads.

“Yes Niki, I want to be your real girlfriend” you answer, emphasizing the word ‘real’.

Now you could finally enjoy him, and by the way your heart beat, this time you were certain it was real.

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reyalvr · 6 months ago

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RUMORS!

I KNOW YOU HEARD THE RUMORS, YOU MUST GET OVER TO IT RIGHT AWAY!

synopsis ┊ ken sato- a remarkable name in the world of modern baseball- has graced japan with not only his presence, but also his skills as a key player for the yomiuri giants. from press conferences to media endorsements, it’s clear that his stardom has only intensified from his recent move. but what happens when you, his personal assistant, are left to deal with some more… serious rumors?

genre ┊ chaotic fluff, oneshot

pairing ┊ ken sato x gn-PA!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, ami is not the reporter depicted!

word count ┊ 2.2k

author’s note ┊ hiya! i recently found time to watch ultraman: rising and this fic was just writing itself in my head hehe… happy reading! (p.s. yes… the title was inspired from the new minions song)

THREE MONTHS. That was how long you had known baseball’s darling, Ken Sato. And in those three months, you had undergone every single PR nightmare you had ever conjured up in your mind prior to pursuing your career. You had worked with celebrities before- doing God knows what ‘til the waking hour on their every beck and call. But Ken, despite presenting himself as a laid back man, was an entirely new… experience.

From the Kaiju attack at his first game under the Giants, to the continuous streak of losses throughout the first half of the season, it seemed like the Gods were against you as you did your damndest to handle the damage control on his reputation. His ego didn’t aid you either- having to spin and twist multiple incidents to get reporters and media outlets off his back. You weren’t exactly sure what it was that kept you from quitting all in all, but the longer you worked under him, the thinner your thread seemed to snap.

You huffed an annoyed sigh into the cold air, picking up the pace as you jogged along the designated path by the bay. Your days off were scarce- not because of Ken’s schedule, but because of your own decision to be up to date with his spontaneous actions. Despite the rarity of solitude, you always managed to savor your time off. The music played at a mellow volume in your ears, the morning sun starting to warm your surroundings as you watched its rays splash hues of orange across the sky.

Your felt your watch beep against your skin, signaling the end of your morning run. Pausing by the railing, you leaned against the old metal bars as you checked your stats. You swiped absent-mindedly on the screen of your smartwatch, scrolling once you were sure that everything was in order. There was one thing that caught your eye, though, as you noticed the red notification bubbles on your message app were continuously going up. It was odd, yes, but not odd enough to be out of the ordinary- at least in your line of work.

Deciding not to bombard yourself this early in the morning, you opted to give everything a once-over once you made it back to your apartment. Whatever it was could wait- you were on your time and your pace. Besides, it couldn’t be that bad. Could it now?

IT DEFINITELY COULD, AND IT DEFINITELY WAS. You pushed on the gas as hard as you could, your tongue poking into your cheek as you continued to drive to Ken’s house. Of all the days that he decided to make perhaps the stupidest decision in his career, he chose today. Doing your best not to see red, you dialed his phone once more. The ringing played throughout your car as you maneuvered through the roads, and you swore for what felt like the umpteenth time that morning when you heard the tone of his voice message.

Hey, it’s Ken. Leave a message after the beep, and I’ll be more than happy to ignore it! Said his usual arrogant tone playing before the generic beep. You gripped the steering wheel harder, huffing angrily as you sharply turned a corner.

“Kenji Sato answer your goddamn phone right now! I’m ten minutes away from your house and when I get there, I better not be greeted with your supposed secret love child!” You yelled, pushing the red button once you finished your message.

Ah yes. The centerpoint of your current rage: Ken’s “leaked” one-on-one with a reporter about juggling baseball and his homelife. Someone on Ken’s staff had sent the article in your shared work group chat, and nearly all of his personnel had directly messaged you about the issue. It was inevitable for celebrities to get into a scandal once or twice, but one on this level would not be an easy fit to overcome.

You don’t exactly remember what you were doing prior to receiving the messages- all you knew was that you needed to get to Ken as soon as possible. Of course it just be a misunderstanding, hell it could even be a hoax! But knowing Kenji, anything could be possible. You neared the hill of his private property, driving past the gates as the security recognized your car.

You parked haphazardly at the front of his house, your feet stomping into the gravel as you made your way to his front door. His estate had numerous smart tech installed throughout his home, so you knew that each and every one of your moves were either being recorded or observed. You crouched slightly to be in frame with the doorbell’s camera, your anger slightly toned down.

“Ken.” You paused to narrow your eyes. “Open the door.”

For the next minute and a half you swore you could hear some sort of clash and bang from inside the house. You kept your arms crossed, raising your eyebrow from time to time when the clashing seemed to grow louder. After what felt like an eternity, the front door opened slightly. Not all the way, but just enough for Ken to peek out and smile at you- albeit nervously cocky.

The nerve.

“Hey, [Y/N]! What uh- what are you doing here?” He manages to cough out, roughly combing a hand through his hair. “I thought it was your day o-”

“Save it.” You reply, your gaze sharp enough to slice through whatever excuse he had at the ready. You held up your phone then, the article’s headline prominently bolded:

OUT OF LEFT FIELD: Ken Sato Strikeout? Nope! Love Child Home Run!

Ken’s head bent down to get a good look at what you were showing him, and you watched carefully as his eyes scanned over the article not once, but thrice. You let out an impatient hum, your mouth forming into a slight scowl as the both of you stood in silence. With your head tilted to the side, you dropped your hand back down and crossed your arms.

“Are you just gonna stand there or are you going to start explaining to me what the hell you’ve been up to these past twenty-four hours?” You question, moving past him as you enter the house.

Usually you would wait for Ken to let you in, but stalling would only hinder you from coming up with what to do next. The article had already been up for two hours, and you halted any statements from being made before you could get an explanation from Ken himself. He quickly tailed after you, nearly stumbling over himself as you stopped at his kitchen. You gripped the marble countertop, closing your eyes momentarily before you turned to face him once more.

“[Y/N] I swear, it’s not as bad as you think it is,” Ken says as he tries to add reassurance to his tone, but it doesn't mask the lingering tinge of falsehood.

“Oh, really?” You say, your eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Because in the span of two hours I have had thirty news outlets blowing up my- your management team for a response!”

He opens his mouth to speak, but stops again midway when you continue. “The headline I showed you was local. I want you to tell me exactly how and why you were on the phone with a reporter talking about your private life at God knows what hour. Now.”

You can see him swallow, licking his lips after as he tries to form the right words. He blinks a bit before pinching the bridge of his nose, tilting his head up as he lets out a deep sigh. When he opens his eyes he’s still greeted with your restive stance. Still he remains slightly hesitant, but he does end up recalling the remnants of his conversation with a reporter he had met at one of the parties he attended. Ken goes on to explain that he had only seeked out advice. His schedule, his personal life- he needed an outlet. You can feel yourself slowly untense, though you continued to listen to make sure all your facts were straight.

When he finishes his retelling, he puts his hands up slightly- as if he were trying to put you at ease. “I swear, that’s all I said. I thought,” He pauses, his brows furrowing in a way that made you slightly mad at yourself from blowing up at him. “I just thought I could have a normal conversation for once. ‘Guess I was wrong.”

The warm lights cast a sombre shadow on his features, and from this angle you notice the worn out expression painted on his face. The bags under his eyes are darker than usual, not to mention the fading bruises from his latest altercation with one of players from his opposing team. In front of you was not Ken Sato, this was Kenji; Simply a man who was thrust into a new life without the needed support.

“Well, no shit.” You say, finally breaking the silence, you fix your posture against the counter as you tone down the anger in your voice. “Jesus Ken, sometimes I wonder how you were able to maintain your career before me.”

At that he lets out a soft laugh, his dull expression slowly fading. “Yeah, I do too.”

You give him a puzzled look before you reply. “Are you mocking me?”

“No! No, I was being serious.” He says, his smile dropping slightly. “I know I haven’t been an easy task, hell you’re here on your day off for Christ’s sake.”

You hum at his words, narrowing your eyes slightly as you push yourself off the counter with another awkward cough. In all ninety days of working under Ken Sato, never has the man gotten this sentimental with you. You decide not to linger on his words, your attention going back to the problem at hand.

“Right, well,” You sigh, whipping your phone out in the process. “I need you to give me the name of that reporter. I’ll get the legal team to draft an NDA breach.”

He furrowed his eyebrows then, looking at you as if you’d said something odd. “I didn’t make him sign an NDA though?”

You only give him a smile, a hint of confidence plastered on your lips. “I know. I have my ways, Sato.”

“You’re a pretty good assistant, then.” He replies, the corners of his lips going up slightly as he keeps his arms crossed.

“I’m an excellent assistant.” You correct without looking at him, your fingers tapping away at your phone as you prepare the next steps of your plan.

Ken can only chuckle in agreement, tapping his fingers on his forearm as he awaits your next set of instructions. Within the next twenty minutes you’ve sent out the necessary details to your team, your legs kicking as you sit on one of his bar stools. He’s stood across from you, leaning on the countertop looking at you intently as you explain the response plan.

“And lastly,” You say, sliding out your hand. “Give me your phone.”

His head tilts, the same confused expression on his face. “Why?”

“Just do it,” Your hand curls, motioning for him to hand his phone over. “No, I am not installing a monitor.” You add when you see his mouth open to interrogate you.

He slides his phone over with a defeated huff, and you open a new contact page on his contacts. “If you need to talk, do it with someone who won’t leak your shit.” You say, sliding back his phone when all your details are settled.

“I have your number though, don’t I?” Ken questions, looking over at the number you inputted.

“You had my work number. Now you have my personal phone.” You point your finger at him before continuing. “Don’t abuse it. I’m still your assistant.” “Wasn’t gonna, sweetheart.” He says, an amused smirk mixing in with his addled look.

You quirk your eyebrow at the nickname. You shake your head, hopping off the stool as you make your way back to the front door. Ken follows behind you, hands in his pockets as he watches you leave. Before you can open the door though, you look back at him one last time.

“I mean it, Ken.” You say, making sure it gets through his head. “You have a problem, tell me. You need a solution, you tell me.”

“I know, I know.” He gives you a tight-lipped smile, nodding towards the door. “Go enjoy the rest of your day off before I start thinking you care about me.”

“I do. It’s my job to care about you, Ken.” You reply, giving him a look before you open the door. “Whether you like it or not, I’m your lifeline. At least until you get rid of me, which won’t be happening for a good while.”

“Oh yeah?” He jests, his cocky demeanor slowly coming back. “‘You so sure about that?”

“Extremely sure.” You’re standing outside now, slowly walking backwards. “Twenty minutes ago people thought you had a secret love child and that you were a terrible father. Now you’re back on the face of KFC as baseball’s darling.”

He’s taken aback. Was he actually booted off of his collaborations? He hastily checked his phone, scrolling through all his platforms. To his surprise, he was greeted with… his usual feeds. No sight of the article, no lingering gossip. His ads had doubled, his partnerships boosted on the products he had endorsed. He looked back up to say something, but you had already started your car. You backed out his estate, giving him a smile through the tinted glass of your windshield.

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. You were right. But who was he kidding?

You always were.

#✎ maxi’s works #ultraman: rising #ultraman #ken sato #kenji sato #ken sato x reader #kenji sato x reader #kenji sato x you #kenji sato fic #ken sato x you #fluff #ultraman: rising 2024

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followmybadreligion · 6 months ago

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Thinking about bf!art who’s so obsessed with you that it borders unhealthy…

You’re the first thing on his mind in the morning; what do you want for breakfast, is that position you’re sleeping in comfortable, are you going to kiss him good morning or just say the words— all questions he sifts through. He doesn’t even have time to wipe the sleep out of his eyes before you consume his thoughts.

Most of the time, he sits on his side of the bed and gazes at your serene figure glowing softly in the early morning light. He hates to disturb you, knowing how upset you usually are when he does, but seeing you like that never fails to awaken an almost desperate need for you within him. He’ll fight it off for as long as possible, but as you release a deep sigh and shift your head his way, showcasing that pretty fucking face, he just can’t help it. So, in the blink of an eye, he’s pressed his body against you, one arm underneath your torso and the other on top of it, caging you in his warmth. He’ll lay there like that with you, matching your rhymic breathing like it were the beat to his favorite song, until you wake for the day, ready and willing to give him all your love.

And boy is he demanding of your love.

Art's like a battery of sorts when it comes to affection. When you've given him enough, charged him with your kisses, affirmations, or whatever else you were willing to give, he's at his best and brightest, going through the world with a big, lopsided grin and tingles in his chest. This is where he likes to be--- full of your love. However, if he feels as if he hasn't gotten his fair share, and starts feeling a little neglected or ignored, be prepared for a completely different boyfriend.

He'll show his discontent in small ways at first-- way more touching, little whines and grumbles when you're focused on something else, pointless reminiscing just to get you to talk-- all ways of him trying to scratch his itch for your attention. But if all that fails, and you're still not giving him what he wants, he gets more and more demanding. You were working on an important work project? Guess who just shut your computer! You were in the middle of a phone call? Guess who has the overwhelming urge to kiss you now! You were on the way to meet up with a friend? Guess who's not letting you out of the house (at least without a fight)? He just can't help it. When it comes to you and your love, he needs all of it and then some.

But, he's also incredibly aware of how smothering he can be sometimes. It's one of the things he's most insecure about in your relationship, actually.

To him, his want for you never runs dry. He could sit in an empty room, with nothing but you to entertain him, and he'd feel as if he'd just sailed the seven seas. So why don't you feel the same? Why do you constantly seem to push for space? Why don't you want all the love he has for you?

He'll rarely ever bring that insecurity up, though. To him, it's pointless-- you can't make yourself want more of what you already have. Instead, he'll just try to find new ways to present it to you.

Naturally, he likes to show his love through his money and his time.

In the beginning, you had to get used to his on-a-whim, thousand-dollar restaurant dates or his random weekend vacations for the two of you. You had to learn how to accept the designer clothes he bought you, or the big bouquets of roses he sent to your house and your job. You had to learn to lean into having a man who was willing to drop any plans he had the second you called him.

And it was a lot.

Sometimes too much, and Art started to pick up on that.

So he adjusted.

Instead of buying you lavish gifts and taking you fancy places all the time, he started to cut back to maybe once or twice a month (still insane but he's trying). He planned smaller, quieter dates for the two of you, like cooking dinner or baking together, or trying new desert shops around the city, and can you tell this boy really likes to feed you? He began to focus his efforts on being more helpful to you, as well. Need him to pick up some dry cleaning? Done. Sick of washing dishes? He's got it covered. Forgot to order groceries for the week? He's already made a list. Any and everything he could do to make life stress-free for you, he'd do.

And then don't even get me started on the sex.

Art is absolutely drunk on you. Your body, your scent, your voice-- all of it.

Before you two were together, Art was ashamed of the way he lusted after you. It made him feel perverted and dirty sometimes, the way he’d be practically drooling at the slightest glimpse of your shape. He was always the first to view your Instagram stories, (because he had your page notifications on) and at first he told himself that he was just eager to see your cute little selfies or your adorable little fit checks. The amount of cleavage you displayed was just a plus! But soon after, he found himself fiendish over the detail pictures you’d post, showcasing your tight-fitting shirts, or the necklaces that dangled just above your tits, or the low-waisted jeans that curved artfully around your ass. The way you presented yourself was just so enticing to him. A little at a time, just a glimpse per picture. Enough to let his imagination run wild, but not enough to fulfill his fantasies.

So you can imagine that from the time Art got his first fill of you and then on, he was in heaven. You were better than every fantasy, dream, thought- everything he’d ever dreamt up. The second you pulled off his shirt and told him to lay back, that you’d give him what he needed, he was a lovesick puppy under your care, and he loved that. He swore with every command you gave or moan you drew from him, he was falling deeper into you.

However, this also ignited a new passion in him. He had to be the best, just as he felt you were. Had to be good for you, or else what was his purpose?

So, he spent hours and hours studying the porn you watched, trying so desperately to mimic the strokes and moans of the men you got off to. He studied the positions you liked and even did a little research on his own to know which ones would feel the best for you. He wanted to make you throw your head back in bliss, moan uncontrollably, and glow from how good you felt, time and time again, and he was determined to do what it took to make that happen. He'd do it all and then some, and all he needed to hear was you saying his name.

Oh, and speaking of saying his name, that's one of his biggest turn-ons. He likes to say there's a certain tone you use, intentionally or not, that mimics the sultriness of a siren, and he can't stop himself from getting hard every time he hears it. Maybe it's the tone itself, or the fact that you're calling him in the first place, but he can't help the way his mind gets all fuzzy from it, only focusing on your voice and the way your lips move to say the syllable.

There’s nobody else on the planet that has ever, or will ever make Art feel the way you do. You make his body feel ways it never has, make his heart light up with feelings he didn’t know existed. In such a short span of time, you’ve become his everything, and that’s why he’s determined to keep you as his for as long as he can.

As long as he can. As long as you let him. Because he’ll be only yours for forever and ever.

Your sweet, lovesick bf!art.

part 2

A/N: this was just a massive brain dump for art since he’s been on my mind since i watched the movie LOL. want him SO BADDDDD

#challengers #art x reader #mike faist #bf!art #obsessed #reader insert #challengers fanfic #challengers art donaldson #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson x you

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nnon0 · 8 months ago

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JJH fic recs

other fic rec posts : 1.(active post) 2.

been getting a little hard trying to find long fics to read these days but here are some that i complied in the last month or so :)

(🫀) -personal faves

all these years @domjaehyun

WC: 34.1k

fluff, smut, angst; childhood friends-to-lovers!au, college!au, neighbors!au

Just friends @lonelyharmonies

WC: 22k

Strangers-to-friends- to-lovers!au , college au

what happens when you wake up in someone else’s bed after getting drunk in a party?

(🫀) Only @ppangjae

WC: 21.6k

almost!lovers au

You like to believe crossing paths with Jaehyun after graduation is just pure coincidence. He always comes and goes. But what if he decides to stay? To stick around? To give what was an ‘almost’ a chance?

Romeo roulette @wincore

WC:21.1k

soulmate au, office au, fake dating

if finding your soulmate is the same as a damn game of Russian roulette, you are determined to not pull the trigger at all. except, you know who your soulmate is and he doesn’t—and given a choice to pretend, you find that jaehyun is the lesser of the two burdens to bear.

he fell first and he fell harder @taurusdaylight

WC: 18.7k

Basketball captain!jaehyun, childhood-friends-to-lovers

jeong jaehyun really loves basketball. but also, he’s terribly in love with his childhood best friend of seventeen years, you.

(🫀) all i wanted @yutaholic

WC: 17k

heartbreakers, smut

A year has passed since you last saw your best friend, Jaehyun, but the man who returns is not the boy you once knew and loved. Jaehyun will barely speak to you and you don’t know why, but you both may be exactly what the other needs to mend your broken hearts.

(🫀)The Apple of My Eye @sehunniepotwrites

WC: 17k

school! au , teacher!au , Kindergarten teacher!jaehyun

As a young and handsome kindergarten teacher of two years, Jeong Jaehyun was used to receiving presents during Teacher’s Appreciation Week. This, however, was the first year Jaehyun wanted to give a present of appreciation to someone else—his new and ever-so-lovable teacher’s assistant.

(🫀)song for a little sparrow @ppangjae

WC:13.7k

poet!jaehyun x painter!reader , strangers-to-lovers

As a burnt out painter, you packed one suitcase and flew a one-way trip to Paris in hopes of finding your passion again. In the city of love, the last thing you expected was to bump into a man who doesn’t believe in love. But you do, and you find yourself showing him the wonders of love and falling in love. Just don’t fall in love with him.

I like me better (when i’m with you) @tyonfs

WC:11.8k

friends to enemies to lovers, sports au , smut

there was no one else on the planet that made your blood boil like jeong jaehyun did. you never thought your feelings toward him were anything past pure hatred, but when you were lost in the feeling of his lips on yours and his hands on your body, you couldn’t help but think that maybe a part of you didn’t completely hate his guts.

Someone to Bring Home @rouiyan

WC: 10.2k

Med student!jaehyun, College au, Brothers best friend , home for thanksgiving

synopsis — “if you’ve been waiting for fallin’ in love, babe, you don’t have to wait on me.” (sanctuary - joji)

Boyfriend material @mochidoie

WC: 6.2k

fake dating au, strangers-to-lovers , slight angst

Although you and Jaehyun had never spoken a word to each other before this class project, he asks you to be in a fake relationship in order to prove to his longtime crush that he is boyfriend material.

Back up Valentine @tyonfs

WC: 2.9k

Spiderman!jaehyun

you don’t have any unrealistic expectations for valentine’s day considering your love life has never flourished, but the least your best friend could’ve done was not summon an intergalactic army of an alien species during your first blind date ever.

SERIES

S.C.S; ayakashi @starlightkun

WC:66.2k

heavily based off yet another otome game, ayakashi: romance reborn ; bc of this, all the lore used in here is inspired by/based on/taken from the lore of the game, not the actual lore of traditional ayakashi/yokai stories

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theonottsbxtch · 1 month ago

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I LOVED YOU FIRST PT3 | FC43

part one | part two |

an: this is the most requested part three. i fell asleep so many times writing this but i’m waiting for tate’s new song so it gave me something to do. not proof read.

wc: 8.3k

It was nearly dawn when Franco turned off the engine, but the silence felt hollow. He sat motionless in the cockpit of his car, his hands still gripping the wheel even though he had finished his lap over an hour ago. The empty track stretched before him, a stark grey line splitting the waking sky, and for a fleeting moment, he considered taking off down it one more time, just for the noise.

That had been the only reason he'd even bothered coming out this morning. Noise. Anything loud enough to cut through the thick numbness that had settled over his life the last two years. Even racing—his childhood dream, his only real thrill—felt distant, just another repetition in an endless loop of things he used to care about.

He let go of the wheel, his fingers stiff and aching, and slumped back into his seat. The inside of the car still smelled new, though he’d driven this car all season. But everything in his life felt new in the wrong way, like he was breaking in someone else's skin.

Franco closed his eyes, but there was no escape there either. As much as he tried to avoid it, the image still came easily: two years ago, his wedding day. The hushed gasp of the guests as he had walked back down the aisle alone, the weight of his father-in-law’s hand on his shoulder. And her eyes—his childhood best friend, his first love, his confession to her still raw in his throat. He'd bared his heart, thought he was finally doing the right thing, only to watch her turn him down, her gaze steady and unwavering.

It was strange how clearly he could remember it. She had moved on. He was too late.

And yet here he was, two years later, sitting in the emptiness his choices had carved out. His marriage was the result of the aftermath—inevitable, unstoppable, once her father had coerced him into making it right. He’d been a fool to think he could live with it, that he could somehow build a life out of that hollowed-out choice. But every day he woke up, and every day it was the same. A stranger beside him, a public charade. He was trapped in a marriage more binding than he had ever imagined, one that had closed off any other life he might have had.

A tap on the side of the car startled him out of his thoughts. His agent, Eddie, looked at him expectantly, his face creased with concern. Franco forced himself to meet his gaze, pulling on a blank expression he’d perfected over the last two years.

"You good, man?" Eddie's voice sounded so distant for some reason.

Franco forced a nod. “Just getting in some practice.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. "You finished over an hour ago."

Franco shrugged, not offering any other excuse. What could he say? That he no longer felt the rush, that even the raw thrill of racing at 200 miles per hour left him feeling nothing? It would be admitting too much. He wasn’t sure he could handle what Eddie would say if he knew.

As he finally climbed out of the car, his gaze drifted toward the track, that endless stretch of asphalt, and for just a second, he felt a flicker of what it used to mean to him. Freedom, purpose, maybe even love. But that had been before her—before he had thrown it all away, thinking he could have her back. And now all he was left with was this: the shadow of a life he hadn’t chosen, the memory of a love that had been real once, and a future he couldn’t bring himself to face.

Franco shook his head, stuffing the thought away. "Let’s just get through today" he muttered to himself, the words a quiet vow.

Tomorrow, he’d put on the act again.

The house was silent when Franco walked in. He closed the door softly, slipping off his shoes out of habit rather than any real desire to keep the peace. She was there, sitting in the dimly lit living room, curled on one end of the couch with her legs tucked under her. A book lay open on her lap, though her eyes weren’t moving over the words.

They hadn’t spoken much in days, maybe even weeks, except for the occasional small-talk exchange over morning coffee or at some public event. When they were alone, it was as if they were two strangers who’d agreed on a routine. She looked up as he walked in, and he wondered if she was waiting for him to speak first.

But he didn’t. He simply nodded, moving past her as if it were just another evening in this quiet, loveless house. He heard her shift, a quick intake of breath, and he paused, feeling her eyes on his back.

“I cheated,” she said, her voice flat, almost as if it were a statement she’d practised a thousand times, something she needed to let out before it grew stale.

Franco slowly turned to face her, letting the words settle, though he didn’t feel anything sharp or raw. Instead, there was just the dull, familiar weight of something like resignation. He studied her face, waiting for the anger or betrayal to come, but there was nothing. Just the same emptiness that had been there for two years.

“Okay,” he said, his voice calm, resigned.

She blinked, her expression faltering. “Okay?” she repeated, as if she hadn’t expected that response. Her brow furrowed, and she set her book aside, sitting up straighter. “That’s it? Just… okay?”

He shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. “What do you want me to do about it? You’ve already done it.”

She searched his face, a flicker of frustration and hurt sparking in her eyes. “Why aren’t you angry, Franco?” Her voice was louder now, cracking slightly. “Why don’t you care? Why don’t you… love me? What did I do wrong?”

For the first time that evening, he felt something stir. Not anger, exactly, but a kind of distant ache. He looked at her—really looked at her—and saw the exhaustion in her face, the years of pretending, of building a life on a foundation that had never been real. And he knew, somehow, that she felt as trapped as he did.

“This isn’t about what you did wrong,” he said quietly. “I just… I don’t have it in me to love you, not in the way you want.”

She shook her head, her eyes brimming with frustration. “But we were supposed to be in this together. My father… Your team. The whole world expects it. I have tried, Franco. I’ve done everything I could to make this work. I just wanted you to see me, to try…”

He sighed, looking away. “We’ve been pretending for two years. It’s not that I haven’t seen you—I just don’t think we were ever meant to see each other this way.”

Her shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of her. She stared at her hands, twisted together in her lap. “So what now? We just keep living like this, sharing the same house, putting on a show for everyone?”

Franco didn’t have an answer for her. He didn’t know what they were supposed to do, what the next step would even look like. They were bound together by more than their vows—by the expectations, the pressure, the image of a life neither of them had chosen. He knew she deserved better than this emptiness, the hollow echo of what might have been.

After a moment, he sat down across from her, resting his elbows on his knees, his voice barely more than a whisper. “What do you want from me?”

She looked away, biting her lip, and for the first time he saw the loneliness in her eyes. "I don’t know," she murmured, her voice quiet. "I don’t know if I ever knew."

She looked down, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater, and then let out a long, quiet breath. "I’ll speak to my father," she said, her voice steady. “We’ll break it off. There’s… someone else. For me, I mean.”

Franco nodded, feeling only a strange sort of relief. “Okay.”

She gave a small, sad smile, as if she’d expected more—anger, maybe, or regret. “I’ll make sure he keeps the sponsors on your team,” she added, her voice softening. “It’s the least I can do.”

Franco shook his head. “He doesn’t have to. I don’t want you worrying about that.”

For a moment, she looked at him with something almost like sympathy. “Franco… it’s not your fault,” she said.

He frowned slightly, unsure what she meant. “What isn’t?”

She looked away, gathering her thoughts, and then back at him, her gaze unwavering. “It’s not your fault you still love her after all these years. Some things… they just don’t go away.”

His throat tightened, and he couldn’t find the words to respond. Her words hung between them, exposing something he’d tried to bury, something he hadn’t even admitted to himself. His silence was answer enough.

“She was a very lovely woman when I met her,” she continued, her voice softer, almost wistful. “I’m sure she hasn’t changed. I’m sure you two would be perfect together.”

He looked down, swallowing the ache in his chest. For all their distance, she’d seen more of him than he’d realised, even if they had never truly belonged to each other. Maybe she’d known all along. Maybe that’s why they’d been drifting from the beginning, like two people playing their parts, waiting for the script to finally run out.

He stood up, running a hand over the back of his neck, his voice low. “I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight.”

She nodded, her eyes full of an understanding that somehow made this harder. “Okay. Goodnight, Franco.”

He gave her a brief nod, then turned and headed down the hall, his footsteps soft against the hardwood. The walls of the house felt like a cage, closing in with every step, but he knew that maybe, for the first time, there was a way out—for both of them.

Franco closed the door to the guest room, feeling the weight of everything settling over him. He felt like a visitor in his own life, just as he had every day for the past two years. He slipped off his watch, set it on the nightstand, and reached for his phone to set an alarm.

Just as he did, his mother’s name lit up the screen. She called him every night, their routine barely wavering since he’d left home all those years ago to chase his dream. He answered, feeling a bit of the tension ease from his shoulders.

“Hey, Mama.”

“Oh, finally, you picked up! I thought I’d missed you tonight, hijo.” she said, her voice bright and warm, filling the room with a bit of comfort he hadn’t known he needed.

“Sorry. It’s been… a long day,” he replied, not sure where to start even if he’d wanted to.

“Oh, mi amor, I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, sympathy lacing her voice. She paused, her tone shifting to something lighter. “Well, you’ll never guess who I ran into today.”

He smiled slightly, settling back against the pillows. “Knowing you, mama, it could be anyone.”

“You flatter me,” she laughed. “But no, this one you’ll want to hear. I ran into your chiquita's mama at the market this morning.”

At the mention of his childhood best friend, Franco’s heart gave a small, involuntary jolt. He kept his voice casual, though he could feel his pulse quicken. “Oh yeah?”

“Guess who’s moving back home?” she said, her voice bright with excitement. “She’s coming back without that boyfriend of hers—what was his name, Angelo or something? Anyway, I don’t know what happened there, but her mama didn’t say much, just that she’ll be moving back in soon.”

Franco fell silent, her words sinking in. She was moving back. Back to the same town, back to where they’d both grown up. It was strange hearing it now, after all this time—especially tonight. He tried to imagine her there, close by, after years of being nothing more than a memory, a lingering ache. She hadn’t been in touch since his wedding. They hadn’t spoken, not really, since that day he’d confessed everything.

“Franco?” his mother asked, her voice pulling him back. “You still there?”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Yeah, I’m here. Just… surprised, I guess.”

“Well, I thought you’d be pleased to know,” she said gently. “I don’t know why she’s moving back, and I suppose it’s none of my business, but I hope she’s doing alright. I always liked that girl.”

“Me too,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

He wondered what could have happened to bring her back. She’d seemed happy, at least in the few times he’d seen her in the public eye over the last two years—smiling, vibrant, that spark still in her. Whatever had drawn her back, he doubted it was anything good.

“Anyway, I just thought I’d tell you,” his mother went on, a hint of cheer in her voice. “I’m sure you’ll see her around when she’s back. Goodness knows you two could catch up. I’ll let you get some sleep, though. You sound tired, love.”

“I am,” he said honestly. “Thanks, mama.”

“Goodnight, mi amor,” she said softly. “Try not to worry so much. Things have a way of working out.”

He hung up, setting the phone down on the nightstand, but his mind kept circling back to her, the unanswered questions piling up. Why was she moving home? Why now, after everything?

He lay back, staring at the ceiling, feeling the quiet gnaw at him. For the first time in a long while, he felt something stirring beneath the emptiness—something that he hadn’t let himself feel since that day two years ago. A flicker of hope, of curiosity. And maybe, just maybe, the faintest hint of longing.

Franco woke up to an unsettling silence the following morning. The kind that felt thick, heavy, and somehow different from the usual quiet he’d grown accustomed to in this house. He rubbed his eyes, groggy, his mind still tangled in the remnants of last night’s conversation with his mother. She was moving back home. The thought had settled somewhere deep, like a stone sinking to the bottom of his chest, and he hadn’t stopped wondering why she’d come back.

He rose slowly, crossing the hall toward the master bedroom to grab his things, but as he reached the door, he noticed it was open just a crack. There was an odd stillness inside, an emptiness. Pushing the door open fully, he froze.

The wardrobes were wide open, their shelves bare, nothing left but empty hangers. He scanned the room, taking in the strange absence of her things: the jewellery stand, her perfumes, even the photos from the dresser—all gone.

On the bed, her wedding band glinted in the morning light, sitting atop a folded sheet of paper. Heart pounding, Franco walked over and picked up the note, her familiar handwriting scrawled across the page in clean, deliberate strokes.

"Go live a life you’ll enjoy. Go get the girl."

He read the words over and over, the reality slowly sinking in. She had really left. It was over, finally—no more strained conversations, no more pretences, no more empty rooms they shared out of duty. She had made the choice for both of them, letting him go in a way neither of them had been able to until now.

He let out a slow, deep breath, feeling a strange mixture of relief and regret. She had given him a way out, but he felt a twinge of sadness for the life they’d tried and failed to build, and for the woman who’d known him well enough to let him go.

After a moment, he picked up his phone and scrolled to his agent’s number. It rang twice before Eddie answered, his voice thick with sleep.

“Franco? It’s barely morning. You okay?”

Franco ran a hand through his hair, still processing everything. “Yeah. Listen, Eddie, I need you to book me a flight.”

“A flight? Where are you going?”

“Home. To Argentina.” He paused, and for the first time in two years, the words felt right. “I just need to go home.”

Eddie hesitated on the other end. “You sure about this?”

“Yes. I’ll figure everything out when I get there,” Franco replied, feeling a resolve he hadn’t felt in years.

Eddie sighed, but there was something like approval in his voice. “Alright, I’ll get it sorted. You’ll be on a plane by tonight.”

“Thank you, Eddie.” Franco hung up, glancing around the room one last time. He pocketed her note, her words still echoing in his mind.

True to Eddie's word, Franco was on a flight six hours later. The journey was a blur of cramped seats, stale air, and the faint taste of regret that clung to the back of his throat. The turbulence was relentless, like some cosmic joke, as if the universe itself wanted to remind him that nothing had ever been easy. He tried to sleep, but the aching pull of everything he’d left behind in that house—his marriage, his choices, his dreams—kept him awake, staring out at the dark sky, thinking of all the roads that had led him here.

By the time he landed in Buenos Aires and caught a car for the long drive north to his family's old village, the exhaustion had crept under his skin, weighing him down like a thousand unspoken words. But the quiet beauty of the countryside—the sun setting over fields that stretched on forever—started to soothe him, even if just a little.

The car ride seemed endless, every minute dragging with the weight of his thoughts. But when the familiar sight of his family’s village finally came into view—cobblestone streets, thatched roofs, the scent of freshly baked bread hanging in the air—something inside Franco began to shift. The city felt miles away, the noise, the crowds, the weight of his past life all falling away as he crossed into the place that had always felt like home.

The moment he stepped through the door of his childhood house, all of that exhaustion seemed to vanish. The house was exactly as he remembered it—warm, full of life, and alive with the kind of energy he hadn't felt in so long. His mother’s soft humming from the kitchen filled the air, the scent of her cooking familiar and comforting in a way nothing else ever had been.

“Mama?” he called, stepping into the kitchen.

She looked up from the stove, a warm smile spreading across her face as she caught sight of him. It was like the years had slipped away in an instant, and before he could even move, she was across the room, enveloping him in her arms.

“Oh, hijo,” she said, pulling him in tight. “You’re home. You’re really home.”

Franco closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling the comforting smells of garlic and simmering stew. It was the same as it had always been. His mother’s embrace felt like a balm, her steady, familiar presence filling up the spaces in his chest that had been empty for so long. He let himself relax into the hug, feeling like he could finally breathe again.

“Yeah, mama,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m home.”

She pulled back, looking at him with concern now, her gaze soft but knowing. “You look like you’ve been through a storm. What happened, Franco?”

He shook his head, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “It’s… been a hot minute.”

She stepped back, eyes still lingering on him as she turned toward the counter, gesturing for him to sit. "Come, sit. You must be starving."

As he slid into the chair at the table, his mother’s eyes flickered to his left hand, where the ring had once sat. The absence of it didn’t go unnoticed.

"Franco," she said softly, her voice delicate but insistent, “Where’s your wedding ring?”

He froze, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the spot where the band had once been. The question hit him harder than he expected, like a weight on his chest.

He took a deep breath, his words coming out slow, almost reluctant. "I… I never loved her, Mama. Not like I should’ve. Not like I should’ve loved the person I married."

His mother didn’t flinch, didn’t offer a shocked look or try to comfort him with false reassurances. Instead, she simply nodded, as if she had known all along. The silence between them was calm, understanding.

"I knew," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "I knew from the start, Franco. I could see it. You were never... you were never right with her."

He exhaled, a small weight lifting from his chest. His mother didn’t judge him. She hadn’t expected him to make some fairy tale of a marriage. She had always known him better than anyone.

"Why didn’t you say something?" he asked, the question slipping out before he could stop it.

She smiled softly, her hand brushing his cheek. "You had to learn it on your own, cariño. I couldn’t take that from you."

He sat back in his chair, letting her words sink in. This was home. The quiet understanding, the unconditional love. The very things he had been running from for so long. And now, in this moment, he felt like he was finally allowed to come back to it.

His mother leaned in, brushing the hair from his forehead as if he were still that little boy who had left for the big city years ago. "You’ll be alright, Franco. I know you will. You always find your way back."

He smiled, his heart full, and reached across the table to squeeze her hand. "Thanks, Mama," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I think I’m ready to find it now."

His mother studied him for a moment, as if weighing whether to say more. The comfortable silence stretched between them before she finally spoke, her voice casual, but with a slight undercurrent of something he couldn’t quite place.

“You know, she moved back this morning,” she said, a soft note of curiosity in her tone.

Franco looked up sharply, his stomach tightening at the mention of her. “She did?”

His mother nodded, stirring a pot on the stove. He shifted in his seat, trying to steady the flutter of emotions that were beginning to rise in his chest. She was back. The thought of her living just next door made his heart ache in ways he wasn’t prepared for, especially after everything that had happened. It felt like a sign, but it also felt like a question—one he didn’t know if he was ready to answer.

“I don’t know what’s happened,” he said, the words coming out quieter than he intended. “But I’m sure it’s for the best. She’s probably just trying to figure things out.”

His mother gave him a thoughtful look before turning back to the stove. "It’s not easy, you know. Coming back here after all those years. Maybe she just needs some time. Things haven't been easy for her, either."

Franco nodded absently, his mind already racing, a thousand thoughts flooding his mind. He’d always wondered what it would be like if they were close again—if the years between them could just vanish, and they could pick up where they left off. But that was before everything had changed.

Before he’d made a mess of everything.

“I’ll give her space,” he said after a long pause. “She clearly needs it if she’s come back home. I don’t want to crowd her, not like this.”

His mother looked at him for a long moment, her gaze soft and full of the kind of love only a mother could offer. She didn’t press, but Franco could tell she was seeing more in him than he was letting on. She always had that way of reading him, even when he didn’t want to be read.

“I think that’s wise, Franco,” she said quietly. “But don’t wait too long. Sometimes, the right things—people—can slip away if we don’t take the chance when we can.” She gave him a small smile, her eyes gentle but full of a mother’s wisdom. “Don’t make the same mistake twice.”

He swallowed hard, looking down at his hands. The right things... people. Was she talking about her?

He wasn’t sure. What he was sure of was that he had already lost so much—lost the girl he had once called his best friend. His true love. That much was clear.

But he couldn’t make the same mistake again. Not with her. Not now.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I won’t. I’ll give her the time she needs… and then, I’ll figure out what comes next.” He forced a small smile, looking back up at her. “But first, I think I need to settle in here, Mama. Just for a bit.”

She smiled warmly at him, nodding as she moved to set the table. “Take your time, cariño. You’ve earned it.” Then she added softly, almost to herself, “And when you’re ready, you know where she is.”

Franco nodded, the weight of her words hanging in the air like a promise he wasn’t sure he was ready to make. He had to sort through the years of distance, the pain, the confusion, and the mess he had made before he could even think of approaching her again.

That night the house was quiet as Franco prepared for bed, the kind of quiet that settled deep into the bones. The weight of the day’s emotions, of the journey—of everything—pressed on him like a physical force, but he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was still missing.

He stood in front of the mirror, his eyes scanning the reflection—a man who hadn’t truly looked at himself in a long time. His face was a little more worn, the years of racing and the strain of the past two had carved lines into his features. And yet, there was a boy in those eyes too—the one who used to laugh freely, who used to dream of more than just what life had given him.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, the quiet ache of the past two years swirling in his chest again. Where did it all go wrong? He’d asked himself this so many times, but the answer had never been clear. His life had seemed like it was on track, until it suddenly wasn’t. Until it all came crashing down, leaving him here, in his childhood home, looking at a version of himself he didn’t recognise.

Where did it all go to shit?

He turned away from the mirror, needing a moment of peace, a change of scenery. The night air felt crisp as he stepped out onto the balcony, the soft night breeze brushing against his skin. The village was quiet, the distant sound of crickets filling the silence. The stars above him were impossibly bright, as if they had been waiting for him to step out into this space to show themselves.

For a moment, he just stood there, taking it all in. The vast sky, the deep silence, the comfort of being home, of being away from all the chaos of the life he’d left behind. He closed his eyes for a beat, letting himself breathe.

Then, he froze.

From across the yard, on the roof of the house next door, a figure was sitting—her silhouette outlined by the soft glow of the stars.

Franco didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there. The sight of her—after all these years—was like a jolt to the chest, a flood of old memories and emotions crashing over him.

At first, he considered turning back into the house, pretending he hadn’t seen her, pretending the universe wasn’t trying to push him into a conversation he wasn’t ready for. But his feet stayed rooted to the ground, his eyes locked on her figure, so familiar, so her. He hadn’t expected to see her tonight, especially not like this. Not sitting on the roof, in the same place they used to sit together as kids, watching the stars and talking about everything and nothing.

He had no idea how to approach her.

Before he could make up his mind, she spoke, her voice drifting through the night air, quiet but unmistakable. “Staring’s rude, you know.”

Franco’s breath caught in his throat, his chest tightening at the sound of her voice. It had been so long since he’d heard it, and yet it felt like no time had passed at all.

He stayed where he was, still unsure, a little frozen by the way his heart was racing. “I didn’t think you’d notice,” he finally said, his voice coming out quieter than he intended.

She tilted her head slightly, but didn’t look directly at him. “I always notice,” she replied, a faint smile playing on her lips, though her tone was more playful than anything else.

He let out a small laugh, a bit surprised by her nonchalance. It was just like her to act so casual, even in the middle of something heavy.

“I wasn’t planning to interrupt,” he added, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. "Just thought I'd leave you to it."

She didn’t respond right away, but he could see the way her gaze flickered toward him, though she didn’t move. After a beat, she spoke again, her voice quieter now. “You came home.”

“I did,” he said, his heart racing as he stood there, not knowing where to go from here. “Took me a while, but I’m here.”

She nodded, the soft rustle of her hair catching the starlight. "Good. I didn’t think you would."

Franco swallowed, the weight of the unspoken words hanging thick between them. "I... didn’t think I would either."

There was another pause, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just... heavy, in a way that felt like they were both waiting for something. Waiting for the moment when they could go back to being what they once were. But Franco knew, deep down, that it wasn’t going to be that simple. Too much had happened between them, too many years spent apart.

Her voice broke the quiet, her words soft but inviting. “There’s space next to me. You should come up here.”

Franco hesitated for a second longer, unsure, but something in her tone, a subtle pull, urged him forward. He glanced around briefly before deciding to take a chance.

Carefully, he climbed over the small stone wall dividing their balconies, his fingers finding familiar purchase as he pulled himself over. The moment his feet hit the roof, the memories of their childhood came rushing back—sitting on the very same roof, talking about everything and nothing, watching the stars as if they were the only two people in the world.

It felt surreal, like no time had passed at all, even though everything between them had changed.

She was already sitting cross-legged, her back turned slightly toward him, but she patted the spot next to her, silently urging him to join her. He moved toward her, then sat down, the cool roof beneath him grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected.

When he finally reached the top, she shifted to make room, and before he even fully settled beside her, she was resting her head on his shoulder. It was as natural as breathing, a comfort he hadn’t realised he’d been starved for.

The night seemed to stretch on forever as they sat together, not speaking, just sharing the same space, the same memories that lingered between them like a soft, delicate thread. It was as though the silence held all the things they couldn’t say out loud.

Finally, it was her who broke the quiet, her voice low and tinged with regret. “Sorry I never replied to your letter.”

Franco’s heart stuttered in his chest at the mention of the letter. He hadn’t expected her to bring it up, not after everything that had happened. Slowly, he turned his head to look at her, his voice barely a whisper. “You... you received it?”

She nodded slowly, lifting her head from his shoulder but not fully pulling away. She stared up at the stars, her fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes in the air. “Four days ago,” she said, her voice soft and distant, as though the words were hard to say.

Four days ago.

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. The letter. The letter he’d written years ago, before everything spiralled out of control, before the wedding, before he called it all off. The letter where he had laid bare his feelings for her—telling her everything he’d never had the courage to say before. Telling her that he loved her. That he’d leave his fiancé for her. That he wanted to be with her.

The letter had been the final step, the desperate confession that he couldn’t hold inside any longer.

“I… I didn’t know,” Franco muttered, his throat tight. “I sent it because I thought you needed to know. I thought you needed to hear it.” He paused, looking down at his hands. “I didn’t expect you to just—ignore it.”

Her breath hitched slightly, and she looked over at him, her eyes meeting his with an intensity that made him ache. “I didn’t ignore it,” she said softly. “I didn’t know about it. Angelo hid it from me.”

Franco froze. Angelo. The same guy she’d been with all those years, the one who had kept the letter from her. The weight of it hit him hard, a cold knot in his stomach. “He hid it?” His voice barely came out above a whisper.

She nodded, her eyes not leaving his. “I only found it four days ago when I was packing.” She paused, as though weighing whether or not to say more, then sighed. “He kept it from me, Franco. Told me it was nothing, just some silly thing from the past. But it wasn’t nothing. It was you. It was everything you were trying to say. And I didn’t even know until hours before your wedding.”

Franco could feel his chest tighten, the words he had written, the words that had been locked inside of him for so long, echoing in the space between them. He had no idea she’d never received it. No idea she had been living in that oblivion, thinking that nothing had changed when, in reality, everything had been laid out for her years ago.

Franco closed his eyes, the weight of her words settling over him. His entire life had been built around the lies he’d told himself, and in the end, he had only hurt the one person who had always been there for him.

When he opened his eyes again, he was staring at the sky, the stars so far away. “I never stopped loving you,” he said quietly, the confession falling from his lips before he could stop it. “I never stopped thinking about you, even when I thought I should. Even when I tried to move on, I always... always thought about you. About Monza.”

Her voice was soft but steady, a quiet confession in the night air. “I shouldn’t have come to that wedding,” she said, her words hanging in the space between them like a breath held too long.

Franco blinked, his heart stuttering slightly in his chest as he turned to look at her. “Why?”

She sighed, her eyes focused on the distant horizon, her expression unreadable in the soft glow of the moon. “Because I thought I was over you, Franco. I really did. I thought that seeing you get married to someone else, someone who wasn’t me, would help me move on. But when I watched you declare your love for me in front of everyone... it hit me all at once. I felt like I was coasting through a lie with Angelo for two years.”

Franco’s chest tightened at the mention of Angelo again, but he didn’t interrupt. He knew this was something that had been simmering beneath the surface for a long time, something they had never really spoken about. She took a slow breath, her fingers playing with the hem of her shirt as she spoke again.

“I couldn’t give him all of me,” she continued, her voice wavering for the first time, just the slightest crack in her calm demeanour. “When you still had half my heart.”

Franco felt a lump form in his throat at her words. She still loved him. Despite everything, despite the time apart, despite the man she had been with, a part of her had never truly moved on.

He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t find the right words to express the swirl of emotions inside him. The guilt, the confusion, the longing. All he could do was listen, his heart aching with each word she spoke.

“Amor…” His voice faltered, and he cleared his throat, trying to find his grounding. “She cheated on me. My wife.” He added as though she needed clarification.

Her head jerked up, her eyes wide with surprise, but she said nothing. She waited for him to continue, her breath catching in her throat.

Franco stared out at the stars, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I didn’t feel much at first. I think I expected it. In some way, I always did. I’d been living in a marriage where I wasn’t really present for a long time.” He paused, his eyes distant as he recalled the feeling of his world unravelling. “But... when I found out, I couldn’t feel anything. It was like I had already shut myself off from it all.”

She studied him, her gaze soft but piercing. “Really? You didn’t feel... anything?”

Franco’s heart twisted, “I felt guilty,” he admitted, his voice low. "I didn’t feel hurt or anger. I just felt... guilty."

She frowned, the confusion and concern evident in her eyes. “Guilty? Why? You didn’t cheat. You weren’t the one betraying her.”

Franco chuckled bitterly, a hollow sound that felt foreign to him. “No, I didn’t cheat. But I’ve been mentally cheating on her for years now.” His voice cracked slightly, the admission slipping out before he could stop it. “With you. I’ve been thinking about you. Wanting you. Wondering... what could have been.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and she stared at him for a long moment, the weight of his confession hanging between them like an invisible force. The air was thick, heavy with the things they hadn’t said, the things they had both buried for too long.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the distant rustle of the trees, the wind whispering through the leaves. Then, she shifted slightly, her fingers brushing against his, tentative, like she wasn’t sure if it was okay to reach out. But Franco didn’t pull away. He let her fingers weave through his, and for a moment, they were back to the way they used to be—close, without words, just a connection that had never truly faded.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking the silence again. “I didn’t mean to make things more complicated for you. I never wanted you to feel guilty.”

Franco shook his head, his fingers tightening around hers. “You didn’t. It’s my fault. I should’ve been honest with myself. With you. With everyone.”

Her hand found his, her grip soft but reassuring. “We can’t undo the past, Franco. But maybe... maybe we can stop running from it.” She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for something—maybe a sign that they were on the same page, that this wasn’t just a momentary lapse, but the beginning of something else.

Franco’s heart skipped a beat. The ache inside him—this pull, this longing—felt more real now than it ever had before. But he couldn’t let himself get lost in it. Not yet. Not before he figured out what came next.

“Maybe,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Maybe we can.”

But for now, they stayed there, hand in hand, watching the stars as the night stretched on—together, but not quite ready to bridge the distance between them. The future was uncertain, but in that moment, with her close to him again, it felt like the possibility of a new beginning was still there.

And maybe that was enough.

She shifted slightly, pulling her knees closer to her chest as she stared up at the night sky, the stars scattered above them like little pieces of a puzzle they couldn’t quite put together. Her voice broke the quiet again, this time more introspective, tinged with a kind of sadness that Franco couldn’t shake. “Why are we like this?” she asked softly, the question hanging in the air between them. “Why can’t we ever get it right? Why does it feel like we keep missing each other?”

Franco felt a lump form in his throat as he turned his head to look at her. He had no answer. No easy explanation for the years of missed opportunities, the broken promises, the things left unsaid. All he could do was let the silence stretch for a moment before he spoke, his voice thick with regret.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said, his words barely audible, but full of the weight of everything he had kept buried for so long.

Her hand tightened around his, her fingers warm and steady against his skin. She didn’t look at him immediately. She just stared at the stars, letting the night take them both in. But when she did speak, her voice was clear, almost a little too sharp, as if she were trying to distance herself from the ache inside.

“I know,” she said, her words simple, yet filled with the unspoken truth between them.

Franco exhaled slowly, his chest tight with the unrelenting guilt that seemed to follow him wherever he went. “I really don’t,” he added, his tone heavier this time, the words more raw, like they were scraping against his very soul.

She turned her head slightly, her eyes soft but steady as she met his gaze. “But you’ll always have me anyway,” she said, her voice gentle, almost a whisper, but strong in its promise. “All of me. Even if you think you don’t deserve it, even if you feel like you’ve lost me, I’m still here. I always will be.”

Franco closed his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to reach out and pull her into him, to hold on to the promise she was offering, but he knew that he had to fix everything first. He had to prove to himself, to her, that he was worthy.

After a long moment, his mind shifted, a question bubbling up to the surface, something that had been nagging at him for a while now. “What happened to Angelo?” he asked, his voice quiet, but urgent with curiosity.

Her gaze flickered away, her expression becoming unreadable for a brief second. She didn’t speak at first, but then, she sighed, her voice small as she turned her head back toward the night sky.

“He proposed,” she said softly, her words hitting Franco like a punch to the gut. “He got down on one knee, right there in the middle of a restaurant, and asked me to marry him.”

Franco’s heart sank. He had imagined the two of them together, but hearing her speak those words, hearing the finality in her tone, made something inside him shift. His breath caught in his throat.

“And you didn’t say yes,” he whispered, the realisation washing over him slowly, painfully.

She shook her head, her fingers grazing the edge of her sleeve as she gathered her thoughts. “I couldn’t bring myself to say yes,” she murmured, her voice distant, like the memory still held weight over her. “I couldn’t lie to him, and I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. Not after everything. I just... I couldn’t. And when I looked at him, I knew something wasn’t right. I knew that the whole time, I had been lying to both of us, pretending that he was enough when I wasn’t even sure of myself.”

Franco felt his chest tighten, his heart aching with understanding. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. He wasn’t sure if he was apologising for Angelo, for her, or for himself, but it felt like the right thing to say. “I’m sorry for everything.”

She didn’t respond right away. She just sat there beside him, her head back on his shoulder, her fingers still twined with his. The night stretched on, both of them lost in their own thoughts, but there was something in the air that felt different now. It wasn’t just the weight of their shared history or the unsaid words that hovered between them. There was something else.

Something that, for the first time, felt like the beginning of something new.

After a while, she spoke again, her voice barely audible. “I never wanted to hurt him. But I couldn’t pretend anymore. Not when you’re still here, not when you’ve always been here, Franco.”

Franco closed his eyes, his fingers tracing the curve of her hand. “I understand,” he whispered, though he wasn’t sure if he did. He wasn’t sure of anything right now except that he needed to make it right—whatever that looked like.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, the quiet stretching between them, neither of them in a rush to break the stillness. The night air was cool against their skin, and the stars above seemed to twinkle with the same quiet understanding that hung in the air. For the first time in years, it felt like they were both exactly where they were meant to be—together.

But slowly, the rhythm of her breathing changed, softening, slowing. Franco felt it before he saw it, the gentle shift in the weight on his shoulder. He glanced down, his heart softening at the sight of her—her lashes fluttering closed, her face serene and peaceful in sleep. She was completely relaxed, as if the weight of everything had been lifted, even if just for a moment.

He didn’t move, didn’t want to disturb the quiet that had settled between them. But as minutes ticked by, he knew it was time to move her. Carefully, he slipped his arm beneath her, lifting her gently, cradling her close. Her head rested on his chest as he stood, her body instinctively curling against him. She felt weightless in his arms, and for a second, he couldn’t believe how natural it all felt.

As he carried her through the door to her room, the familiar smell of her childhood home wrapped around him—the scent of lavender and old wood, a place both foreign and intimately familiar. The room was just as he remembered, simple and cosy, with little traces of her scattered throughout. He looked down at the floor he used to sleep on when they were young The soft, pale light of the moon filtered through the window, casting everything in a gentle glow.

He placed her gently in the bed, tucking the covers around her small frame. For a moment, he just stood there, watching her, his chest heavy with emotion. Everything about this felt so right, so painfully wrong at the same time. He should have been here years ago. He should have never let things get so far. But now, he was here. And he wasn’t going anywhere.

He leaned down, brushing a strand of hair away from her face before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. His lips lingered there for a second longer than he meant to, his heart aching with all the things he never said.

Just as he turned to leave, to head back to his own house, her voice stopped him.

“Don’t.”

Franco froze. His hand rested on the window frame , his heart stalling in his chest. He turned slowly, not sure if he had heard her correctly.

“What?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost unsure.

She looked up at him, her eyes still heavy with sleep, but there was something in her gaze—vulnerable, raw, but full of longing. “Don’t go,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I can’t watch you walk away again. Please don’t.”

For a moment, Franco stood there, his chest tight as he processed her words. Don’t go. It was all he needed to hear. She didn’t want him to leave. After everything that had happened, after all the distance between them, she still wanted him here.

He walked back toward the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. He didn’t need to say anything; the weight of the moment, the look in her eyes, said it all. He carefully slid under the covers, settling beside her, the warmth of her body so familiar yet so new.

Without a word, she shifted, curling into him, her head finding its place on his chest, her hand resting gently against his side. Franco wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close, and for the first time in a long time, he felt at peace. It wasn’t a perfect moment, but it was real. And it was theirs.

They stayed there, the rhythm of their breathing slowly syncing, the quiet of the night wrapping around them. No more words were needed. No more distance. Just the two of them, together, holding on to each other like they were afraid to let go.

And as they drifted off to sleep, tangled together beneath the covers, Franco realised that this moment—this feeling of being home—was everything he had been searching for.

Home.

Her.

It was all synonymous.

She was his home.

the end.

taglist: @sp1rl @yennasaurusrex @ellen3101 @firefirevampire @directioner5life @littlegrapejuice @obxstiles @scopeiguess @newlifeforus @justsisse @zestytimbit @taygrls @charlosvibesonly @sparkleofpizza

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drewsbraziliangf · 2 months ago

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don’t try this at home | Drew Starkey x black!reader

summary: no one never tells you how much a broken heart hurts. how you feel like you could die from how much pain it causes you and dealing with it mostly alone serves as a constant reminder of what life could've been.

a/n: Here’s part 2 of nothing to say when heaven falls, heavily inspired by ‘in the kitchen’ by Renee Rapp. I want to thank you all sooooo much for the love on the first part I’m still taking it all in💖

dividers: @/saradika-graphics

It had been seven months since the both of you broke up - more like you decided to call it all off and he just watched.

A part of you felt broken beyond repair. It felt like everywhere you looked you could see his stupid blue eyes and damned smile. As if your brain couldn't cope with his absence anymore and began to force you to picture him everywhere you went. Wether it was in someone holding the door for you, a stranger complimenting your hair, a song on the radio that you knew he’d sing along as he drove. It felt like you were dancing with his ghost. Like life happened around you but you were stuck in the kitchen where you last saw him. It was just you and the bittersweet memories.

You never knew how his family took the news of your break up, Brooke was the one who reached out to you and said that she was sorry things had happened that way. But after that everything was radio silent and you preferred it that way. It hurt less when the living reminders of him weren’t too keen on keeping up with your life anymore. They had no reason to do that anyway.

But nothing hurt more than when you began to call everything off with the contractors. The venue, the buffet, the band that would be playing, the decoration crew, photographers and wedding planners. That broke you because you could feel their pity through each and every single call. Like every time you dialed a number, the knife was piercing the open wound again.

It didn’t take long for you to move back into the apartment you rented before you had moved in with him. Slowly life was stable again. Wake up, walk in the park, work, diner, sleep. Repeat.

You also deleted most of your social media profiles and created brand new ones. You didn't want to think of how long until people realized that you were cutting online ties to any one connected to him and they started asking questions. You wanted to remain invisible at last.

Still that wasn't enough. Every other day when your best friend, Frankie, posted a picture or a video where you were in she would immediately tell you that he had liked it. Every time for the last month and a half. You didn't know if you liked to be informed of that or not, if you were honest.

Sometimes you hated yourself for leaving like you did, but in most days you asked yourself how you managed to stay that long? Of course you loved him and was one hundred percent ready to be with him in the long run, but the sudden dismiss of your relationship as soon as Odessa was in the picture was a real deal breaker. Even if you had tried to ignore and move past it, both of them seem to keep on pushing your buttons more and more.

Moving back to this apartment was a blessing and a curse. You were glad that the lender was a nice lady and accepted your application again. You loved the neighborhood and the neighbors, so you were relieved that this part you were able to recover.

Unlike the place you shared with Drew, this one barely had memories of him. So it was easy to ignore his absence in your home. The thought of your shared apartment brought a strange kind of pain to your heart. So many plans, memories and dreams that you for your future now sat alone. All of them waiting for a different kind of closure - one you weren’t sure they’d ever get.

There were pieces of furniture that used to decorate that address that you had brought with you. And on them you could feel him linger, like he was a ghost lurking by the corners waiting for you to acknowledge him again. You never did.

Weeks came and went as the breeze that passed by. None of them too significant. One failed date here and there, bar trips with Frankie, catching up with family members. Routine wasn’t hard to follow when you didn’t have anything else to focus on, it gave you a sense of normalcy. That’s how you found yourself sighing at your friends words on the speaker phone.

“Come on, it will be fun!” She points out, “And you might even find someone you’ll like.”

Frankie had been trying to convince you on the past few days to go to this party in a private club that she was invited and could take a plus one. You did enjoy going to some bars but clubs were never your scene, but you knew that with her insistence you’d end up caving in soon or late.

“Frankie, you know that I don’t enjoy this kind of things too much,” you argue as you serve yourself some pasta. “Besides, I have that presentation at work that I need to focus on.”

“That’s not coming up for another two weeks, I’m sure you can take one day to live. You’re young and gorgeous, you shouldn’t be locked up on a Friday night.”

You giggle at that. Ever since you told her what had happened with your previous relationship, she made it her mission to get you to meet as many guys as possible. Half of the times you managed to back out and the ones you did you’d find yourself under someone you were sure that you’d only see once.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” You ask with a small sigh as you shake your head.

“Be ready by nine, hun.” She says, and you can clearly hear the excitement in her voice, and then she hangs up.

This was everything you didn’t know you needed. The sweaty bodies dancing on the main floor, loud chatter all around and the strong smell of alcohol surrounded you.

Everyone seemed pretty in sync with each other here and, as Frankie held your hand, the both of you headed to the bar. When you arrived, you realized that the both of you had a very different perception of what small was. This place had at least one hundred and twenty people in, all with different styles and ages.

Frankie was taller than you, with legs and a waist to die for. She drew attention anywhere she passed by with her long blonde hair, at work people called her a bombshell, since she did look like a modern version of Gisele Bündchen. You became friends not long after you moved to Connecticut. As it was closer to New York and your then fiancé, had many meetings and events in the city. Both of you working in a corporate position at one of the many offices that were spread downtown. As the two of you were closer in age, it didn’t take much for a friendship to blossom between you both.

“I’ll have two caipirinhas,” she said to the bartender with the cutest little accent.

At the name of the specific drink from your native country, you looked around and realized that the party was somewhat tropical themed, so having a drink that was heavy on lime and sugar made sense.

You were glad that your outfit wasn’t standing out too much. The skirt barely covered your behind, but somehow the soft fabric made you feel comfortable as it wasn’t clinging to your skin as a the leather option you tried earlier would. Summer was insanely hot this year and the less the better.

Once your drinks arrived, she handed you one and the both of you walked towards one of the empty seats a little far away from the bar.

Conversation between the two of you flew lightly and it was always good to talk with Frankie. She understood you in ways no one ever had, there was never judgment coming from her. Even when you broke down in front of her when your relationship ended. She was your family away from home.

She also felt confident in sharing with you her fears and struggles as a single mother. Her boyfriend had passed away a year and a half ago in an accident and left her with a little boy to raise. Hayden her pride and joy and you knew how hard she worked to provide him with the best there was. You were more than glad to help her whenever she needed, you loved the both of them endlessly.

As the hours passed by the party became more packed than it was when you arrived, now you could barely walk between the damp bodies. So that made your trip to the bar for new drinks twice as long.

The bartender acted on automatic as he took your order once more, and for a moment you felt bad for coming here again. So many voices and sounds around you that you questioned yourself how he was able to understand each order correctly.

You tapped your colored nails against the glass countered as you waited, trying not to focus too much on what was happening around you. And that was how you felt it before you’ve seen it.

The strong smell of a very specific cologne. You didn’t dare to turn your head as the smell flooded your senses, hopefully it would be just a coincidence, right? I mean, what are the chances?

But it seemed like you have zero support from the universe tonight because the voice ordering a Sazerac besides you was very familiar. Familiar as you had heard it groaning in your ear as your legs were wrapped around someone’s waist.

Fuck.

Was it too late for you to make an escape? Thankfully, the spot you and Frankie were sharing was to your left so you looked back in that directly only to see her wide eyes staring right back at you.

Fuck.

Where the hell was this bartender?

You looked ahead again and allowed your eyes to briefly look down to your right. That goddamned gold signet ring.

Fuck.

Suddenly you didn’t want to drink anymore. Not when you felt a very familiar gaze burning into you.

No escape.

💖taglist💖: @emmaafinchh @rafecamerons-national-anthem @blveeeeeee @a-j-stuffs @maybankslover @lovelylove268 @cooper8224 @esquivelbianca @dreamybabbyy @lulubabii @idiotussupremus @drewsphswife @ietss

tumblrs a hoe and it wasn’t letting me tag some of y’all 🫠

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x female reader #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey x black reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron #obx #obx fanfiction #rafe x reader

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suiana · 4 months ago

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The death of an artist

he's always found you beautiful, even in your death and rebirth. you'll always be perfect to him. always

(yandere! musician x gn! reader) (cw: yandere stuff idk, im wiritng this while shitting i hope u enjoy my poopoo core, 2.04k words)

you might not have realised it but your silent admirer had always watched you.

he's watched you from the shadows, observing how you interact with others, how your eyes were once full of light and joy as you shared your paintings for the world to see.

it was beautiful.

you were beautiful.

he was but an aspiring musician back then. a couple of listeners here and there but never enough to fill up a concert hall. meanwhile you were a famous artist, with your paintings selling out for millions at all the art exhibitions you hosted.

you little admirer totally idolized you.

i mean, who wouldn't? all your paintings were so full of life, oh so meaningful, and most importantly, they were made with love.

love, love, love.

it was the one thing that made you stand out from all the hundreds and thousands of artists. the one thing that inspired him to even start writing songs.

your art made him feel loved. it made him feel wanted, even. he remembers how he'd get a fuzzy feeling from all your paintings, how it sent a delightful tingle up his spine as he takes in your carefully crafted masterpieces.

though there weren't any texts, all of your paintings spoke a thousand words. and they spoke to him.

with every new piece you put out, it was like he was getting to know you better. to know you on a personal level. it made his head spin and his heart leap in delight. after all, you were his idol. the one he admired so much that he began to pursue a music career dedicated to you. the career he once left behind in favour of living in this sad world.

though at one point in time, he hit a wall.

he couldn't get any ideas, no fresh inspiration for his music. the musician could only stare at his score as his mind desperately grasps at nothing. he felt like he was dying.

then you came through, like an angel of salvation.

well, looking back, you were more like a demon of salvation. especially because that one single text from you kick-started his disgusting love for you. it feels wrong to call you a demon though, not when you were so holy that he feels like touching you will corrupt your divine light.

he still remembers waking up and seeing your text on his instagram DMs. your bright red notification ping that gave him all the motivation he needed to think of a new idea.

'hey! just wanted to tell u i really enjoy ur music! cant wait to see u get famous >w<'

he swears he could die happy just seeing you message him. you messaged him. you know of his existence??? no fucking way bro. he still wonders if he used up all his luck when you messaged him so innocently that day.

of course... he responded and thus began a friendship (?) between the two of you.

friendship. yeah, maybe for you.

truth be told, he doesn't know if he ever saw you as a friend to begin with. he always thought you messaged him because you were interested in him too. whatever, these small details aren't important.

he released a love song not long after your first interaction with him. it instantly became a viral hit, taking his follower count from the thousands to the millions. he was glad it performed so well on the charts, they were his feelings to you after all.

the now famous musician had to thank you for getting him out of his rut. without you, he'd probably have gone back to doing medicine. so he did the best thing and that was to invite you out for a meal. he had to thank his muse, didn't he?

you were a little hesitant at first. that's okay, if anything he thought it was cute that you were suspicious of him. there will be plenty of time for you to warm up to him later.

the little get-together, or first date as he likes to call it, went well! you two saw each other in real life for the first time! and boy was he smitten. if he was unsure about whether he was in love with you before, he sure as hell was sure now.

you were so much more lovely in real life than you were over text. all smiles and laughs, your admirer feels that his songs didn't do you justice.

"this was fun! let's do this again!"

oh for sure he will do it again. he just wants you all to himself now. to keep you with him, a never-ending source of inspiration for the rest of his life. his beloved muse. the one he writes for. the one his songs are dedicated to. his.

so your falling off played out nicely in his favour. you were trying out an experimental style, said that he inspired you. it was one that not many would be able to understand at first glance, completely different from what your previous one was. your loyal fans stood by your side of course, him included. but the general public eventually started ignoring your newer pieces in favour for something they didn't need to use much thought to understand. for someone fresh, someone new.

he could see the way the light in your eyes slowly started to dim at the lack of interaction. sure, you said that fame wasn't important to you, that all you wanted was to showcase your art to the world.

but your little admirer could tell that it was bothering you more than you'd like to admit.

he saw the way your texts with him grew more erratic, the way the vibrant life in your eyes started to slowly dim, the way you started pushing out more works to compensate for the style change. you were desperate for the attention you once received. the way you changed in real time, becoming a slave to the consumers, like an animated robot that pushed out art just for the sake of it...

it was a little sad to see to be honest. it was like you were there, but you also weren't, you know? your name was on the artwork but he didn't see you in it.

but he was glad things turned out the way it did. it meant that he could be there for you when you cried and felt like a mistake. it meant that he could offer you a shoulder to cry on when the times were really bad.

"there there, it's alright. just let it all out."

his gentle caresses as you cried your heart out into his chest... it was delightful to see you depend on him so much. that you'd come seeking comfort from him in such a dark period of your life. he felt so wanted by you.

meanwhile, his fame was only growing larger by the day. while you were on a path to being forgotten, he was making a name for himself in the music industry. brand deals, billboards, advertisements. he was everywhere, like a ghost haunting you, to remind you that your friend was thriving while you weren't.

the musician wonders whether you've ever hated him. that you'd think he was stealing all of your fame. after all, your fame went down not long after you messaged him. he really wonders whether you've ever blamed him for making a change in your art style.

it doesn't matter now.

the artist in you was gone.

"hey, what if you make me an album cover?"

you only stared at him with dark eyes before looking away. everyone around you had slowly started distancing themselves from you. the change in your personality and looks had scared them. everyone but him had stayed. his words about horrid snakes deceiving you fill your head as you cling to the attention he gave you. who were you to deny your only friend left?

"sure."

you didn't give much thought when designing his new album. it was an avant garde album that had themes about desperation, love, and death.

how ironic, you thought.

you gave the complete piece to him a few days after, heavy bags under your eyes as your friend hugged and kissed your cheek. he's been taking care of you recently. having you move in with him, cooking you food and covering all of your expenses. he treated you like a lover. albeit you found it a bit weird that he told you not to leave without his consent. said that he didn't want people to harass you. you found it sweet of him. you were glad that he cared for you so much.

"my dear artist friend designed my new album cover, yes. i think they were a perfect fit to help design this particular album cover. they're..."

your fame immediately came back. interviews, likes, commissions, the things you were once familiar with came running back at full force after your friend's interview with a big channel.

you think if this happened earlier you'd have caved under the attention. the big spotlight, fans.... the attention will always be intoxicating. even now, you feel yourself smiling at the number of notifications you're receiving from strangers.

but you've realized that their attention is only temporary. the second you grow irrelevant they'll drop you again. just like they did before.

the only one who matters is your friend. the one who whispered sweet nothings and reassured you when you were drowning in a mass of nothingness. the one who gave you the attention you craved.

you immediately started a new piece in a new style.

'Intertwined'

a painting that gave you more fame than what you initially had before. it was a piece about self enlightenment, discovery, and contentment. and some claimed that it was the best painting that you've ever made. a masterpiece.

you showed your friend your work right after you were done and you could've sworn you saw a hint of shock in his eyes. maybe also fear? you don't know.

"this is... beautiful."

his words were slow, gaze intense as he stared at your painting for what felt like hours. you think he was mesmerized. you never asked him.

you made another painting after that.

'final duet'

again, people claimed that it was a masterpiece. your friend looked stunned again and he called it beautiful like always. he told you that he's never seen something so artistically perfect before and that he's proud of you. you like it. his compliments make you happy.

"this one is for you."

you made another piece. a simple painting of him in your style.

'untitled.jpg'

"is... it mine now?"

he proceeded to draw you into the painting as well after your words. you didn't understand what he was doing. but you found it cute. he was drawing you?

"there. now it's perfect."

he smiles down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead like he always does. you've grown so used to his kisses that you were expecting one already. you lean into his touch before smiling softly.

"i'm so happy with you."

"me too."

the seed of life was sprouting once more, growing around the stem that it's learnt to grow dependent on.

he was everything to you. you feel like you'd die without him. but you know it'll never happen because your dearest friend will always remain by your side. he promised you. his words are like gold. he's the only one who matters.

you never want to be apart ever again.

thus you made your final masterpiece about love and dedication. a flower thriving in a dark environment and growing to love the dark, having died in the shining light once before.

'rebirth'

the blinds to the outside world shut on the two of you. no one else is important. he tells you he loves you. you repeat it. his hands wrap around you as you lean into his cold touch. you're cold too. you used to be warm once, he says he likes you cold better. shutting your eyes, all you focus on is the steady beating of his heart.

now no one will ever bother the two lovers ever again.

#yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere concepts #yandere musician #yandere musician x reader #gn reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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cxffecoupx · 19 days ago

Text

our little thing

chwe hansol + bickering over which christmas movie is superior wc: 672 warnings: vernon being a cutie, gets a little emotional at the end (i think) author's note: todays exam was shit. this was made in a haste. please bear with me (me for the 23456th time). but i kinda like it a little. also basically i've tweaked the prompt a little i guess. but this was the general idea. hope you like it <33 winter wonderland masterlist

"sol, stop sulking; it's been more than an hour now!"

hansol just huffs once more before crossing his arms across his chest and looking away. you walk over to him to sit beside him.

"it was just a silly debate, non. i didn't even mean it that seriously."

"silly?! you mean to tell me, that movies are silly?!" he mocks a hurt expression before pressing his palm to his chest to drive his point home. you can only roll your eyes at this drama queen of a boyfriend.

two hours ago, vernon posed a question that he explained was 'in the spirit of the holidays'.

"what's your favourite christmas movie?" he asked while you were looking at decoration ideas through pinterest for seungcheol's christmas bash.

you actually had to judge him for that. for asking you that question, when he very well knew the fact that you were: 1) not a movie person, and 2) not a holiday person (two things that emotionally hurts vernon every time you express it, he claims).

so without much thought, you say what could have been the worst answer anyone could ever give to a movie person who likes the holidays:

"i dont know; i never really cared."

vernon swears he heard something break into a million pieces at that moment. if he were half as dramatic as his best friend seungkwan was, he'd have faked a faint and fell to the floor with his hand to the forehead (you say this in detail because this has happened before - when you answered the same way when he asked what your favourite christmas song was).

you thank whoever is up there that your boyfriend is nonchalant.

but this answer was enough for your stoic boyfriend to pout (a pout!! that you has to resist kissing), and move to the other end of the couch, far away from you, with the same worked up expression as right now.

for a whole two hours, he stayed huffing and puffing across from you.

you try to get him to look at you, but when that doesn't work, you climb onto his lap and hold his face between your hands. his face felt cold to the touch, nose a pretty pink and lips still in a pout.

this time, you don't resist your urge to kiss.

you lean in and press a lingering kiss to his lips. you could feel him melt under you, leaning into you while trying to deepen the connection. when you pull away after some time, he rushes to chase your lips. you place a finger to his.

"sol," you take a breath and continue.

"i've never really celebrated the holidays before. i mean, we did have some quality family time during the meals, of course. but we've never shopped for ornaments, or decorated the tree and put up a star. i've never sat down with them to watch christmas movies."

you smile when you notice his nose become even red, and smooch it.

"so, i've never really found the appeal to it. i'm grateful for all the holidays i've had, i really am. but there are just some things i silently wish for at times."

he takes a deep breath and pulls you in for a hug.

"let me fulfill that wish for you. we're a family, you and i. we can make new traditions, you know? i've watched a lot of holiday movies, we can watch them together ever year. make it special with some wine, or some hot chocolate. some caramel popcorn. a warm blanket around us."

he pauses to smile before going on.

"and you'll fall asleep in the middle of it, but i won't wake you up because then i'll get to have your share of the popcorn too. and i can tease you about it till the next year, when we do more things to tease each other about."

vernon presses a chaste kiss to your lips.

"you and i can slowly make it our little thing, just like you've wanted."

prompt by @novelbear divider by @adornedwithlight

#svt #seventeen #svt x reader #seventeen × reader #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen vernon #vernon #chwe hansol #hansol #vernon fluff #vernon x reader #articles.ris

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0oolookitsme · 5 months ago

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Piece of His Heart

Hii everyone, I'm back from my long hiatus!! Hope you missed me because boy did I miss YOU! <3 This one is a little emotional, a little sweet, and VERY Harry focused. Also, I was inspired to write this piece while listening to 'London's Song' by Matt Hartke, and trust me, it's a lovely song. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Verse - Artist!Harry x Photographer!Y/n

Word Count - 1.0k

Warnings - Mentions of unplanned pregnancy, financial stress.

Harry and Y/n were students, and now, parents to a newborn babygirl as well. With all of the newfound emotions rushing through them, one thing he knew was that they were going to build this new little family slowly, and lovingly.

Harry looked up at the ceiling, at the overused fan moving slowly and creakily, with one of his arms under his head while the other one remained draped over his little baby's back.

She was curled up on top of him, breathing softly, her little hands fisting his shirt.

Daylight was pouring into the room through the gap between the two curtains, and Harry still couldn't believe that the little one sleeping away on his chest was finally here, after a worthwhile wait of a full nine months.

He still remembers the nickname he'd given her while she was still inside her mum's belly – 'Pumpkin' he had called her, and her little frame couldn't have agreed more with him.

Full and round cheeks hung a little low on her face, her small mouth in a pout and eyes as circular as pearls, nothing if not the true meaning of grace.

Which is why he'd settled with the name 'Opal', grinning widely while Y/n had nodded furiously with tears in her eyes, saying how it was the perfect name ever.

His mornings suddenly became impossibly sweeter, something he hadn't expected since he had moved back in this childhood home with Y/n.

A few days ago, when he had laid his eyes on the bundle of sunshine for the very first time ever, a huge piece of his heart, if not his entire heart, had been taken right then and there.

Sighing, Harry got up very carefully, wary of waking up the newborn and then, when he successfully hadn't, laid her on the two person size sofa – all that he could fit in the name of a seat inside his small art studio.

He had just turned to get back to his awaiting Canvas, when Opal began mumbling. She was talking in her sleep, he realised with a smile growing on his face, making his dimples show up.

Another piece of his heart was taken then.

He wondered, each time that she slept, about just what she was dreaming up. On nights, he worried if she wasn't warm enough, wanted her to know that there was a blanket of stars above her – but he knew he could wait until she began talking to do that.

Even though he couldn't afford the best, he was going to make this work. He was going to be the best father out there, give Opal all of his love, all with Y/n by his side.

Putting back down the paintbrush he had picked up because he couldn't stop thinking of her, Harry walked back over with his stool to sit and watch her. He crossed over the chair, his front against the chair's backrest as he rested his face on his arms, gazing down with a soft smile on his mouth.

"I can't wait for you to grow up so that we can talk, you know? So, hopefully, you can tell me if this is where you'll always wanna be," he spoke, brushing away the unruly mop curls on her head.

"And we can go to a place where you look at the light and it splinters," he sighed, moving to cover her up with a blanket. "Where there's plenty of gas in our car to last us the cold, cold winter," tears glazed over his sight, sniffling as he looked at her small figure lull to side as she slept – he almost let slip a chuckle.

Right then, she took whatever pieces were left of his heart.

Winter this year wasn't easy, but that wasn't to say that it wasn't the best one aside from the ones he had spent with Y/n. So much financial stress had come with the unplanned pregnancy, and now a baby. But he knew that the both of them could pull through the loans and make it out as a happy and healthy family, if they stuck together.

Y/n’s dad, a single father, was a little bit bitter about the whole situation but had begrudgingly stepped forward to help out the two with handling the house, seeing as the both of them had to attend college as well as take care of the baby. He dropped off the groceries last weekend, along with the last minute new-born-baby stuff that Y/n had told him they needed.

Even Anne stepped forward, letting the two of them borrow a room in her house for as long as they needed – likely until they could get back up on their own feet financially.

Currently, as Harry sat feeling overwhelmed with all of the love and other emotions rushing through him, he could hear Anne talking to Y/n down the hall. The walls weren’t the thickest and he could tell that Anne was sharing her own stories with Y/n, telling her about how she’d had Harry at a young age, and more.

He’d heard it before, had even seen the two of them having this chat. So he knew that Anne, very likely, had Y/n’s head in her lap and brushing her hands through her hair, trying to console the woman high on hormones and the insurmountable number of emotions she must be feeling.

Wiping away at his nose with the sleeve of his flannel, Harry blinked away the tears and pulled up a smile on his face again, trying to be courageous, for Y/n and their daughter. Because he knew that Y/n was doing the same for them. For the little family they were both going to build slowly and lovingly now.

"But I also want you to be this little forever, so that I can cherish you enough, yes?" He asked her, nodding his head when she mumbled something incoherent, something similar to ‘we’ll be fine, dada', Harry wanted to believe.

And unable to help himself, he picked her up again, holding her flush against his exposed torso because he didn’t have the energy to button up his shirt and the skin to skin contact made breathing a little easier.

"I'll love you tenderly," he whispered, pressing a kiss on her forehead. "I'll love you forever, and more, little pumpkin."

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kooktrash · 1 year ago

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LIMERENCE | jeon jungkook

summary: a recent discovery of old VCR tapes takes you down a rabbit hole of self-pity, remembering what you once had and how it all went down the drain over youthful mistakes. suddenly, you find yourself playing back the old tapes of the best relationship you’ve ever had and all you can think about is how to get it back—if you could get it back

warnings: angst. smut. [jk and oc in videos: 18-20 | jk and oc now: 26] retired emos. exes to lovers. unprotected intercourse [listen it had been six years they weren’t waiting 😭] jk has a bellybutton piercing and he smokes. jk owns a camera shop. supportive besties Jimin and Tae and Yoongi. Y2K styled camcorders. a small argument on one of the tapes

LIMERENCE MASTERLIST

➢ genre/au: exes to lovers, smut, Y2K videotape style [ ex boyfriend!jk x ex girlfriend!y/n [she/her. female anatomy ]

➢ 18.4k words

song inspo: risk — deftones, 505 — arctic monkeys, afraid — xavier omar, who [feat. BTS] — lauv

The end of a chapter in your life always came when you least expected it. You’ll wake up one day and it’ll hit you that you don’t talk to the same people. You don’t do the same things or act the same way and when you look back at before, it will feel so far from the person you are now.

Standing before your half empty apartment began to bring this growing feeling of sadness inside you. It made you feel stupid but you just couldn’t help it, this was the end of a huge time in your life where you felt like you really began to develop into who you are. After seven years living here, you’re finally moving on and everything that happened here would be left behind. All the laughter, the crying, the break ups that left you balling your eyes out on the kitchen floor. You would soon move into a clean slate and for some reason that was hitting you hard.

It probably didn’t help that your dear friend managed to find a box of things— you haven’t thought about in quite literally years—hidden away in an old storage space on the ceiling. The sides of the cardboard box were in ruins with wet patches and bent corners. There was no writing on the sides but on the top a big line of red duct tape with the words ‘JJK’ and a few small scissors stab marks next to it. Jimin looked up at you with a raised brow, “Are you keeping this one?”

Your expression seemed to flatten as you looked down at it, unsure what to say and he sighed, “Come on Y/n, it’s late, I want to get as much of this out as we can. Are you keeping this one?”

“Um,” You looked back down at it, nodding your head, “Yes.”

Since the day you found that box and told Jimin you were keeping it, all it’s done is collect dust in the corner of your new living room, out of place and constantly on your mind. Your friends were a big help in the move, especially Jimin who had hauled that huge cardboard box up three flights of stairs to your new place without question to what was in it. It wasn’t until he got tired of seeing it sit in the corner for an entire week after everything had been unpacked that he really began to get curious about it.

“So what’s in that thing?” Jimin asked that Friday night you lounged around your apartment, proud to have finally gotten everything out. Tonight was the first night your mutual friend would be over and it was like a housewarming party with the only two people who can stand being around you.

“What’s in what?” You asked, catching a glance at your friend, Somin, who’s knowing eyes bore into yours—already knowing what he was talking about. The thing is, Somin was very aware of what was in that box and she’s been biting her tongue all night from asking why you still had it.

“The box, it’s just been sitting there,” Jimin said pointing to it, “It’s kinda ruining this whole vibe you’ve got going on here with all the black decor and house plants.”

“Just some old stuff,” you shrugged it off, looking back down at the playing cards in your hands, “I haven’t found a place to put it.”

Somin raised a brow at you but you ignored her this time to continue your game of cards and drink your wine. Jimin looked at her, “Do you know what’s in it?”

You sighed, “Jimin, I told you it’s just some old stuff.”

“Yes, Y/n, but old stuff can be a lot of things and that box was heavy so I’m curious,” Jimin said exaggeratedly, “Can’t a man be curious these days?”

“It’s no—“

“It’s a bunch of old home videos,” Somin said as she poured herself more wine casually like she hadn’t just exposed what was inside your secret box. Jimin’s jaw dropped, “Wait, Y/n, you used to do porn?”

“What!?” You nearly choked, “No—well, like on—no! Those aren’t that type of home video, they’re just… y'know old tapes.”

“Like from when you were a kid?” Jimin asked with a scoff, “Let’s watch them.”

“I’m not a kid,” You said shaking your head no, “And no, let’s not watch them.”

“I agree with Jimin,” Somin cut in after watching you begin to panic a bit, “You kept them for a reason, let’s see why. Jimin’s never seen them.”

You laughed nervously, “Come on, it’s just silly stuff, I just kept them for the memory, that’s all.”

“We don’t doubt it,” Jimin said with a smirk, “But come on, let me see one—just one.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Fine!”

The three of you huddled around it with a pair of keys using the jagged end to cut into the old tape and the box nearly fell apart just like that. When Jimin pulled the tabs open, the three of you seemed to lean in closer and closer with anticipation for the reveal until finally, a silence fell over you.

Jimin didn’t hesitate from reaching into it, scabbing row after row of old VCR tapes with white labels on the sides with similar titles in a numerical order.

‘JJK 1’

‘JJK 2’

‘JJK 3’

‘JJK 4’

There were 24 tapes in the box and he counted every single one meaning these spanned two years with one tape filmed per month. The same initials that had been on top of the box had been written on the tapes and he couldn’t help himself from picking up the first one. “Let’s watch it.”

“No! No,” you said, taking it out of his hands, “You wanted to see what was inside and you saw, be happy with what you get, I don’t have anything to play these on anyway.”

“I do!” Somin piped in, “I’ve got my old tape player back home, say the words and I’ll go get it.”

“Not neces—“

“Do it.”

What you wanted at the moment seemed to be outnumbered by your friend’s curiosity and your other friend’s need to satiate it. You were left alone with Jimin for twenty minutes as Somin left to get it and he rummaged through them trying to ask you what they were, only for you to evade each question out of stubbornness. Now she’s back and you’re watching them set everything up on your flatscreen while you sat back on your couch chugging back your glass of wine nervously.

Jimin smiled mischievously as he held up a tape, building anticipation before placing it into the player and letting it start.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 1 : THE SHOP ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

There was a pungent chemical smell surrounding the register you currently sat on that had the customers in line scrunching their noses in disgust but that didn’t seem to stop either one of you from what you were doing. He worked with one hand as best as he could while you worked on the other applying a cold layer of polish onto his fingers.

A small black nail polish was set down on the counter next to a silver cam recorder that had been angled at the two of you this whole time, capturing on video the way you painted your coworker’s nails. Jungkook bid them farewell before turning his attention back on you, “Hurry up, we’re starting to get busy again.”

“Shh,” you pointed a manicured finger up, “You can’t rush perfection.”

“I’m not rushing perfection, I’m rushing you,” Jungkook said as you brought his hand closer to your lips trying to dry his nails with your warm breath. The video seemed to have a perfect view of the way his eyes glossed over with affection when he looked at you and you weren’t paying attention.

“Oh my god, every girl is going to want to sleep with you,” you eyed his nails proudly, “You look hot.”

“I’ve always been hot,” Jungkook said looking down at his black nails that complimented his black leather and beaded bracelets that lined his wrists, “Okay but how cool do these make me look? Like, would you sleep with me?”

He tilted his head toward you in curiosity and for a moment you just looked at him in thought before finally shrugging, “Yeah, I’d do it.”

“Do what?” Jungkook asked, shaking his black hair out of his face. With the way the camera was aimed, the two of you looked zoomed in but it still managed to capture the way your eyes stayed on each other wordlessly, the tension felt through the screen.

‘Can someone help get a shirt down?’

He watched you hop off the graffiti-covered counter and grabbed the long hook that helped get things down and left with her—not before responding with a simple, “You.”

Once your answer registered in his head, he wasted a single second to look at his camera, wondering if it had caught this small flirty moment the two of you had while you painted his nails and the thought alone made him smirk, biting against his lip ring too. He didn’t think he would get his nails painted at work today but when he saw you doing your own, you convinced him and he spent the last ten minutes messing around with you, flirting here and there.

The shift had been boring for the most part and all the songs that played he'd already heard a million times over. This is his fifth time singing along to Falling Away From Me by Korn. Do you think he wants Korn stuck in his head all day?

His beanie clad head bobbed to the rifts in the song, quietly lip synching as he went back to doodling on an old receipt paper. Some of the ink from the pen he used was smudging and the black hearts he drew were getting ruined but he didn’t care. He’ll either throw it away or stick it on your back if he wants to.

“Beating me down! Beating me, beating me down, down, into the ground,” a voice sang loudly in his ear making him jump in fear.

“Don’t moan in my fucking ear, bro,” Jungkook said holding a hand to his ear, the softness of his beanie tickling his fingers. Taehyung threw himself against the counter with his back pressed against it looking at his friend, “You know you liked it.”

“Fuck off,” Jungkook said as he blew air on his nails again, drawing Taehyung’s attention to them. He stuck a hand out as if waiting and Jungkook put his hand over it to show him his nails.

Taehyung seemed impressed as he asked, “Who did them?”

“Y/n.”

“Y/n!” Taehyung shouted abruptly and Jungkook flinched away with annoyance, ready to tell him you were helping a customer when you popped around the corner with a t-shirt and hanger in your hands and the customer behind you.

“What?” Your brows arched in confusion as you looked at your coworker who has spent the last twenty minutes in the stockroom between Nirvana posters and new Metallica tees hiding so he could play his Nintendo GameBoy. Jungkook was careful not to fuck up his black nails and took the shirt from you so he could check the customer out.

Taehyung pointed to Jungkook’s nails,“Can you do mine next?”

A scoff left your lips, joining him next to the counter standing close to ask, “Are you going to pay me?”

His jaw dropped as he turned back to Jungkook, “What the fuck? Did he?”

“Thank you, have a good night,” Jungkook mumbled to the customer as she left with a new t-shirt before turning to the other two, “I’m buying Y/n lunch tomorrow.”

“I’ll buy you lunch the day after.”

“You can’t. That’s not original.” You said to him with a teasing smirk. The two of you were standing close to each other as you talked, Taehyung’s voice dropped when he spoke to you, “You know what, just because the two of you got a little crush on each other doesn’t mean you’ve gotta favor him.”

Jungkook looked down at the drawing he made, trying his best to act like he hadn’t heard what Taehyung said, but it didn’t stop the growing blush to his cheeks. It’s true, maybe he does have a thing for you but it’s still too early to tell, y’know? He’s not sure how to explain it but you seem to get him. The two of you like the same kind of music and know the same sort of things. You listen to him talk and when he’s quiet, you don’t question it. You make him feel comfortable and when you flirt with him he wonders if you feel the same.

Honestly, that’s all he’s wanted these days, his attraction toward you to be reciprocated anyway it could be. He thinks about you constantly, probably more than what’s healthy but he can’t help it.

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes playfully, feeling the shuffling movement of Jungkook pulling himself up on the counter, “Just say you’re jealous and feel left out.”

“Bitch?!” Taehyung scoffed, “I wouldn’t feel this way if you treated us fairly, instead you give him special treatment.”

“You realize you’re arguing with me over getting your nails painted?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, clearly annoyed and once Jungkook saw that he was fully pulling you his way. He threw an arm around your neck, hugging you from behind as he sat on the counter and rested his head on yours, “Ignore him, he’s in a mood because he just got dumped.”

“Fuck you, I broke up with her!” Taehyung nearly yelled, staring at the two of you with disgust as Jungkook fixed the beanie on your head that had slipped a little too low over your eyes.

Just as you were getting ready to respond to him, the door of the stockroom opened and your boss was coming out with a blank expression, “Can you guys do your jobs instead of fuck around?”

“Yoongi, I’m being bullied,” Taehyung argued, “Fire them already.”

“I’ll fire you too,” Yoongi teased before looking at Jungkook, “Get off my counter.”

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

The video came to an end as your old boss stood in front of the camera, blocking out the footage that ended with Jungkook whispering something into your ear.

“Who’s that guy? An ex boyfriend?” Jimin asked as the video came to an end. Somin released a soft laugh as she looked at your blank expression, unsure what to say. Before you could speak up, she was doing it for you, “That's the ex boyfriend. Jeon Jungkook.”

“Don’t immortalize him,” you said with a slight roll of your eyes as you watched Jimin rummage through the box in search of another video to play. Your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth as a strange ounce of nerves began to set in, watching him unlock a deep rooted memory you had told yourself you had forgotten. Somin sent you a knowing look as she matched the roll of your eyes with her own, “How else should I refer to him as? The guy who filmed a video each month that you two were together?”

“Damn,” Jimin laughed, slumping back in a chair as he looked at you, “So how come I’ve never heard of this videographer.”

“Because Y/n’s asham—“

“Alright! No more wine for you,” you leapt forward to snatch the glass out of your friend’s hands watching her giggle drunkenly, “You’re just saying things now.”

“Come on Y/n, I’m curious,” Jimin said tugging on your sleeve, “If you won’t let her tell me… you gotta do it. Don’t act like you don’t still think about it, why else would you have all these tapes still?”

“Because it’s not everyday someone makes 26 movies for you—and not all of them are as happy as this one,” you confessed as you looked down at ‘JJK 1’ it had been a video log of when the two of you really began to show some attraction toward each other just before he asked you out. Looking back at the video all you could think was how back then you were both young, you could see it on your faces and the sparkles in your eyes. Not all of the videos in that box would be like this one.

“Alright,” Jimin sighed, “Well then just tell me who Jeon Jungkook is.”

Sounds of a rock song’s electric guitar blurred out the noises from inside the dark shop. The store was covered in black and dark blue with its black walls and blue hues of light that shined down over dozens of cameras and melancholic portraits. It had an obviously cold aura and for some reason that had a tendency to always bring him comfort.

He felt warmth in the coolness of his small shop and oftentimes it was difficult to leave it behind, even when the night sky had appeared and the ‘closed’ sign had been flipped. The only thing that kept him from spending yet another night in the store was a set of plans that had been made days prior by someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer. When it came time to leave, he locked up shop and left on his motorcycle.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” his dear friend raised a glass of whiskey to him as he sat alone at the bar, “I was wondering if you were gonna come or not.”

“I didn’t realize I had an option,” he joked bitterly, making his friend send him a glare that was quickly wiped away when something came to mind. “So I met this chick, she’s got this friend wh—“

“No.”

“Jungkook,” his friend said, watching his friend stir the ice in his scotch, “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

Jungkook released a scoff as he looked at him, “You were going to say that this friend wants to meet me and that I should go and get drinks with her or something.”

He sat there quietly, speechless by how spot on his best friend was, “Alright, maybe you did know what I was going to say but just hear me out… she’s hot. Uh, um, she’s your type—honestly, I’m your best friend so trust me.”

“No, Taehyung, you always say the same thing and it's always a huge waste of time,” Jungkook shook his head adamantly, “I don’t get why you’re always trying to set me up with someone whenever you get into a relationship. We’ve been friends for eight years and you’re still this clingy?”

“Okay first of all, fuck you, I’m not clingy,” Taehyung told him with a scoff, “Second, I’m trying to do you a favor considering you can’t keep a relationship to save your life.”

That made Jungkook roll his eyes as he looked anywhere but at his friend. The two sat at the counter of some quiet lounge bar where they had agreed to meet at. He raised his glass to his lips for a drink as he said, “Some people aren’t meant to be in relationship—“

“No, you wanna know what your problem is?” Taehyung cut him off, “It’s that you’re too damn picky. Hate to say it friend, but nobody is ever going to be her.”

His expression hardened as he forced his glare on the silver rings he wore, listening to the way they clinked against the polished bartop. He didn’t give Taehyung a response right away, too busy trying not to roll his eyes again but it was no use, his tongue poked against his cheek and his friend knew he got a reaction. Jungkook tilted his head in thought, “Why do you still bring Y/n up?”

“Because she was your longest relationship,” Taehyung said with a shrug. He was pushing his friend for a response and he felt a little bad but sometimes he just needs to get his friend to talk. Jungkook has always been on the quieter side, even years back. All he did was listen to music and videographed things he liked. He was a bit intimidating—still is—but it was only because he was so quiet. Sure, he knew how to joke around but Taehyung’s known him long enough to feel the difference in his friend lately. He’s become more of a shut-in, busy with the store and not focused on anything else.

“Yeah, six years ago,” Jungkook emphasized with a scoff, “And she broke up with me, remember?”

“I mean… yeah but… don’t you ever think about it?” Taehyung asked suddenly, “I still think about my first love.”

“Y/n was not my first love,” Jungkook’s brows furrowed, remembering the two girlfriends before he ever met you. Taehyung gave him a look, “Not your first girlfriend but definitely your first love. What do you think Y/n’s up to?”

He hadn’t noticed how his leg began to bounce anxiously as he took a sigh, “How would I know? You’re the one who still talks to her.”

“Not true,” Taehyung shook his head no, “We haven’t talked in over three years.”

“Hm,” Jungkook sounded unimpressed as he chugged back the rest of his drink, motioning the bartender over to ask for another round. He wasn’t in the mood to keep talking about this and it caught him off guard.

He couldn’t remember the last time he thought about you but he’s got no doubt in his mind it was because of Taehyung back then too. This is the problem with being best friends with the guy who was with you through all the ups and downs and hasn’t seen you put your all into a relationship since. The only thing Jungkook doesn’t get is why Taehyung is stuck on the idea that he never got over you.

You both were young back then. The end of your adolescence started with the beginning of adulthood and the two of you had just so happened to spend the first two years together like that. You dated when you were 18 and broke up when you were 20, it was so long ago and now it’s just a last memory to him. He hasn’t seen you in six years and the only time he ever wastes time thinking about you is when you’re brought up. He’s managed to push you so far back in his head that he’s only reminded of you when someone else mentions you and every time it happens, it hurts a little more.

Taehyung has this problem with revisiting the past anytime he’s drunk and since he met him at the same time that he met Y/n… it’s no surprise that some of those early memories had you in them. He never failed to remind Jungkook that he had felt like a child with divorced parents having to choose a side when you two broke up. Time and time again Jungkook reminds him that he could’ve gone off and been best friends with you if that’s what he really wanted but then it would end in an argument over the friendship.

Jungkook reached into the pocket of his black jeans for his pack of cigarettes and offered one to Taehyung, “So tell me about this friend.”

“She’s blonde—natural or not, I’m not sure—but she’s attractive and nice. She seems a bit extroverted, kinda bubbly so I don’t know how you’ll feel about that but I’m telling you… you’ll like her,” Taehyung said, happy to drop the current topic to go back to the original point in conversation.

He tried to listen to his friend’s description of this woman he wanted Jungkook to meet but he couldn’t. It was really all Taehyung’s fault for making him think about you and all his past relationships. He’ll admit, he’s been in quite a few and none have lasted more than a few months aside from the one with you. It was normal for yours to be the one that left the biggest impact on him but he wouldn’t say that’s why he stays away from relationships.

There might be a time here and there where Jungkook does indulge in carnal desires and sleeps with someone but they’re never anything more than that.

He’s got too much shit going on to waste time dating someone.

After a long night of hearing his friend go on and on about a woman he thinks is good for him, he returned to his loft apartment tired and alone. Like his shop, his apartment had the same cool tone to it. The walls were black and some brick, blue lights were tucked away in corners angling up toward photographic portraits he’s done in the last few years and his black 1968 Gibson Custom Les Paul Electric guitar hanging proudly in his living room. His Doberman leapt happily at the sight of his owner and he followed after Jungkook as he stepped onto his couch taking the guitar off its hooks to examine it.

To be honest, he rarely plays the guitar nowadays and it’s not because he forgot how to play or because he lost his love for it but it’s not the same anymore. Now it just sits as a reminder of who he was with when he got it and just how he got it. As if this guitar wasn’t a constant reminder of you, his dear friend felt the need to bring you up too.

It wasn’t Taehyung’s fault things happened the way they did and it’s not his fault that it fell apart for him too but… sometimes he wonders if things would have been different if Taehyung didn’t push him to date you all those years back.

For days on end all you could do was think about that stupid box. It didn’t help that you had no room for it so it remained in your living room taunting you, pressing you to play just one more video. It’s strange how you hadn’t thought about this box or Jungkook in a long time and now he’s randomly showing back up in your life without even knowing it. Honestly, it was embarrassing.

You’ve randomly begun to think about a guy you dumped when you were 20 years old and for some reason that’s starting to get to you. It was making you anxious like all of a sudden you’ve realized how much time has passed. If it wasn’t for moving out of your old apartment, you wouldn’t have even thought about this but not that you’re looking back… this was supposed to be that ending.

You were supposed to leave it all behind when you moved and instead you brought it with you to your new beginning.

“Y/n.” The man across from you called your name as you stared off in the distance. He released a small sigh, “Come on kid, you wanted to get lunch, what’s up?”

“I’m not a kid,” you told Yoongi with a glare in your eyes, “And maybe I just wanted to catch up with an old friend of mine.”

Yoongi lifted an unamused brow, “Are you calling me old or our friendship old?”

“A little bit of both,” you said with a teasing smile, taking a sip from your drink as the two of you waited for your food, “But anyway, no, I haven’t seen you in like a month and I kinda missed you.”

“Right…” Yoongi looked away, “So what have you been up to? How’s the new apartment?”

You released a sigh as Yoongi began to ask you things and tried sorting your answers in your head, “I’ve been too busy moving but the apartment is nice, a little less space than I originally thought but nothing I can’t manage.”

“And how’s the magazine?” Yoongi asked, taking a short pause to thank the server who brought your plates out, “Did you get that promotion?”

“Yes!” Your eyes widened and a smile came to your face, “I did, we’re still working on transfers but you’re looking at the new Editorial Assistant.”

“Soon to be new Editor,” Yoongi said proudly, “I can’t believe I’ve seen you grow from some emo kid who used to work for me to an adult on their way to their dream job.”

“I know,” you released a sigh at the thought of how far you’ve come. When you graduated high school you worked at a streetwear shop and you stayed there part time when you started college. It’s gotta be the best place you’ve ever worked at and the environment was always laid back. Yoongi was the one to push you and ask what you wanted to be and when you told him your plan to work at a magazine he was always right there beside you. Now at 26, you’re just a step away from Editor. It’s crazy how much can change in six years and that alone made you ask, “I know this is random but do you still talk to old employees?”

Yoongi’s brows furrowed, “I talk to you.”

“I mean beside me,” you said with a roll of your eyes as you poured yourself more water in your glass. You wanted to say this was all just out of curiosity considering he’s the one who brought up the time you worked for him but in reality… you planned on asking him this when he agreed to lunch.

“Mm, not really. I talked to Taehyung for a while after he quit but it didn’t last long,” Yoongi said as casually as ever and he looked at you with curious eyes. Your lip was pulled between your teeth and you were no longer eating, just using your silverware to play with your food and he knew you well enough to know his answer didn’t satiate your curiosity. He purposely left out any mention of him but maybe that’s what you were looking for? “I haven’t talked to Jungkook since he moved—but last I heard he came back a couple years ago and opened up a store.”

“Store?” You asked, watching your friend’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Yeah, he, y’know he opened a camera store, a couple second hand guitars too,” Yoongi said, “You didn’t know?”

You shook your head no, “When?”

“I don’t know, when he came back? Jin told me he had seen him around but I never talked to him. We didn’t keep in touch when he went back to Busan so I figured it would be weird to want to know what he’s up to now, right?” Yoongi said, unaware of the way you had tuned him out, lost in thought.

Talking about Jungkook to Yoongi felt strange because he knew the two of you in a different way than Somin did. Somin knew Jungkook because of you but you and him worked for Yoongi for two years. It’s like with Taehyung, he met you the same time he met Jungkook but the two grew closer even when you fell out. Your breakup with Jungkook was a bit of a tricky subject and you’ll take the blame for it. Back then you might’ve tried and argued that it was a mutual agreement but now that you’re older you’ll admit you were in the wrong, or maybe the things you said were wrong.

“Y/n,” Yoongi called your name, snapping your out of your state of daydream and caught your attention, “Have you really not spoken to him since the breakup? I don't remember it being that bad.”

You shrugged, “Honestly I can’t remember, a lot happened that I didn’t say and I’m sure he didn’t either so it makes sense.”

“What’s wrong?” He asked, “I can tell something is on your mind, why’d you ask who I kept in touch with? Have you been trying to contact Jungkook?”

“No,” you nearly choked on your drink, “No, I just, um, I was just curious.”

Yoongi didn’t press you for more, he could see it on your face that there was more you weren’t telling him but he didn’t want to force you to come out with it. You ended your little lunch date with plans to meet up again and went back to your respective jobs.

It wasn’t until nighttime that you found yourself thinking back to that stupid fucking box that just grabbed your attention everytime you were home. If Jimin had never wanted to play the first tape then maybe you wouldn’t have been so stuck on them but you just can’t help it anymore. They’re all you’ve been able to think about which has led you to think about Jungkook. You have not questioned him or his whereabouts in so long and this sudden interest in how he’s doing is starting to get to you.

When you got home you tried distracting yourself from them. You still had to figure out where to put them if you even want to keep them and although you think you shouldn’t… you can’t just throw them away either. It’s a memory, a cute little memory if you only watch the first few videos and you’ve moved on so they shouldn’t bother you anymore—they don’t bother you anymore. You spent part of your night finishing up a project from work, drinking a glass of wine and listening to Bloodhail by Have a Nice Life, only looking at the box every now and then.

You always preferred working in your living room because it helped you resist the urge to lay in bed but right now you can’t focus on your project and you can’t take it anymore. You took a tape out of the box and put it into Somin’s tape player, turned on the tv and the volume up just a bit as the video began to play.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 2 : THE SKATEPARK┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

The sky was dark and you doubted anything could be seen on the camera set up beside you but neither of you seemed to care. The camera had been rolling since the store was open and you had been filming with him since but you never expected Jungkook would ask you out. Could you call this a date?

“Y/n,” Jungkook’s voice was calm and collected over the loud rock music that played in the skate park, “I’ll pull, all you have to do is try and balance.”

“I am trying,” you took a deep breath staring down at the skateboard underneath your worn out converse, “Just give me a second, alright?”

Jungkook just smiled, he took a cautious step back when you released his hands and he picked up his camera trying to make sure you were in view. Things have begun to change between you two drastically. Sure, you always did a back and forth flirting at work but lately it feels a bit more than that. You’ve been messaging every night talking about random things, sometimes talking about more meaningful things. Whenever he was near you his touch always seemed to linger and now he’s asked you out tonight—nothing serious… just feeling it out.

“Okay, okay, wait I think I got it,” you waved a hand excitedly as you called him back over. He didn’t hesitate to take your hand in his free one and aimed the camera down at your feet. He began to pull you forward, feeling your fingers lock with his when you nearly lost balance.

Jungkook was walking backwards as he helped you skate across the cement, not watching where he was going until he bumped into a ramp nearly yanking you off the board. The camera fumbled in his hand as he tried to save you instead and wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you steady. You clung to his arm, heart racing from the near fall and yet you couldn’t help but laugh as you fumbled to keep the camera safe. Since you met him you realize he had a strong tie with his camcorder and got used to his need to always be recording, you found it cute so you didn’t want something to happen to it.

He was hesitant to let you go even when you stood up comfortably, tucking your hair behind your pierced ears and biting your lip, “I need a break.”

Jungkook didn’t question it as he followed you to sit down on a grassy hill just outside the cement confines of the skatepark. He reached into his black Jansport backpack and took out a bottled water to hand to you. You smiled, taking it with a thank you and asked, “So do you come here every night you close?”

“Sometimes,” Jungkook shrugged, watching you tip your head back to drink from his water bottle, a small droplet slipping down your chin that had him reaching out a thumb to wipe, “Helps clear my head.”

“That’s nice,” you said softly thanking him, cheeks flush red, handing him back the water and watching him take a drink next, “Is that why you’re always recording too?”

Jungkook looked down at his silver camcorder that sat in the middle on the grass, “I don’t know, I find it relaxing but at the same time… it makes me anxious? I want to capture everything I experience on video because I’m scared that one day I’m not going to remember any of this. Sometimes I wonder if I’m missing out on the moment itself but then I think about right now an—no, nevermind.”

Your brows furrowed as he stared down at the people skating, eyes narrowing as he listened to the next song someone played. It was late and that definitely wasn’t a skating song but it was one of his favorites and he had to say it, “I like this song.”

Bloodhail played somewhere off in the distance and he softly hummed to the beat but you were too focused on what he never finished saying instead, “What were you going to say?”

Jungkook played with his lip ring, the beating red light from his camera recording in his peripheral as he shrugged, “It’s nothing.” There was a small pile of loose grass blades he’s pulled from the ground next to him.

He looked at you to see what you had to say but instead you just stayed silent, slightly drawn back from him and he didn’t want that. It’s not like what he was going to say was bad but… the two of you have only ever flirted. What if he said something that pushed you away? But what if he chose not to ever speak up and you got tired of waiting?

The song really was one of his favorites but he’ll admit he used that as a distraction to change the subject but he couldn’t just not answer now.

“I think about what would happen if I didn’t have my camera when I’m with you,” Jungkook confessed, laying on his bed to look up at the stars, “Would I remember everything you said? What jokes I said that made you laugh? Or even the way you looked at me? I wouldn’t want to forget these things.”

All that was heard for a good long moment was the sound of the music and muffled noises from people still around. He felt his stomach tighten, shaking his head in the grass, “Shit, sorry, that probably sounded weird.”

Your eyes met and for a second he forgot where the two of you were or that his camera was still recording at a bad angle, “What will you do when you’re done filming us?”

“Give the tapes to you, maybe keep a couple,” Jungkook answered truthfully, “They’re as much yours as they are mine.”

“But you’re the one always recording,” you told him but he just shrugged.

“Because I like it and I like you and I just want to capture every moment we have,” his words sounded more confident now as he sat up not wanting to beat around the bus anymore, “So, Y/n, will you go out with me?”

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

A chill ran down your spine as the song you currently listened to matched the one that had played in a video that was seven or eight years old. As much as you’ve told yourself you’ve changed your music taste has stayed the same and the strange serenity you felt in the beginning with Jungkook never changed either.

Why were you missing him?

It was another late night at the studio, Jungkook spent more time there than at his apartment lately and tonight was no different. Although he did have plans with Taehyung and that blonde he had been telling him about, he’s not sure if he’s interested in actually going. He met her a couple nights ago and Taehyung was right, she’s great, honestly, but something didn’t click right away.

If he met up with Taehyung for this ‘double date’ that might give her the wrong idea and he doesn’t want to hurt her. If he could have her as a friend that would be best. He’s just not ready to give himself to someone when his last break up ended because of something so stupid that he just couldn’t let go.

Jungkook stood outside under a poorly lit street lamp just outside his studio as he smoked a cigarette, taking a small break from photo developing. His studio was located on a quiet street uphill, it had a simple cinderblock look and it wasn’t big but it was somewhat popular. People liked to see his photographs and he would do photoshoots, sell cameras, fix them, he did pretty much anything you could do with a camera. Business might be slow at times but it was peaceful and he made a living wage off doing something that he loved, that’s all he had ever wanted. He was content with where he is now at only 26 and his own business. He didn’t mind being single nor did he care to change that… so he decided he was going to miss out on tonight.

Once he finished his short smoking break, he put the bud out on the floor with his shoe and picked it up to dump in the trash. Just as Jungkook turned back to the door of his studio, he seemed to go still.

For a second he debated rubbing his fists into his eyes in hopes of washing away this mirage but all he managed to do was blink, speechless and frozen. You weren’t better off despite being the reason he was stuck like that and all you could do was stare at him in disbelief.

It was very obviously Jungkook, there was no mistaking it but it also looked like someone completely different in a sense. The Jungkook you dated always dressed in band tees too small for him, spiked chokers, checkered belts, the full emo scene of the time minus the side swept hair—he preferred the longish curls instead. He had a lip piercing and a belly button piercing but that was it. Now you’re looking at him and you’re seeing a man after six years realizing just how much time had passed. He had a tattoo sleeve and small gages, a lip piercing and he wore overly baggy black clothes. His hair was short and straight but it looked good on him and you can’t believe you’re admitting that to yourself right now.

“Is this JeonStudio?” You asked as calmly as you could but your voice still betrayed you at the end. You avoided his gaze, choosing instead to eye the small building somewhat proudly and awkward too. Coming here was on a whim, you had been out with friends when you got curious and searched him up. Yoongi had told you he owned a shop so it wasn’t hard to find and honestly… you didn’t expect to go in and actually see him. Imagine your surprise when he caught you standing outside slightly tipsy? “I don’t suppose you’re open at this hour.”

Jungkook just looked at you, heart racing and half tempted to smoke another cigarette due to growing anxiety but you seemed so casual and he didn’t want to overreact. It’s been too long anyway, he’s dumbfounded. He cleared his throat uncomfortably before walking to the door, not bothering to look back at you as he held it open for you to go in.

Immediately you winced at the loudness of the rock song that played, ears nearly sore from the volume as you stepped into the dark studio. Korn’s ‘Coming Undone’ played loudly as it reared its end and Jungkook left you alone for a moment to lower it back down, skipping the song in favor of listening to something by Alice In Chains. You’ll like to correct yourself; Jungkook might look slightly different because he’s older—but he still seems like the exact guy you left six years ago.

“So what can I do for you?” Jungkook’s voice sounded deeper, more manly and when he stood behind his glass counter of cameras with his hands leaning against it, silver rings on his tattooed fingers and a slight smell of nicotine, you were brought back to before. He let his gaze travel over you in half surprise and half amazement.

Just seeing you after having you stuck in his head for a couple weeks now was a surprise, but to see how you’ve changed? He was amazed. It’s not that you were a completely different person but… wow you’ve grown. You no longer wore your ripped fishnets or beaten Converse and Dr. Martens. Your hair wasn’t in knots and your makeup wasn’t smudged or messy like you did it in the back of a bus on your way to work.

You looked… you looked good, like a matured version of yourself who wasn’t shy to show small hints at what you used to be like.

“I just…” you trailed off looking around the room, “I heard you had your own shop an—“

“And?” Jungkook asked with a firm expression making you look back at him, “I’ve had it for a couple years now, why the sudden interest, Y/n?”

He acted cold and it was a bit of a surprise and you scolded yourself for thinking that. It’s not like you expected him to be all smiles seeing you again. God, why did you come? It felt like one second you’re leaving your friend’s movie night to go home and next you’re standing outside of his studio as he smokes.

Maybe you’ll just leave before you do anything embarrassing.

Jungkook watched you with a blank expression but he would be lying if he said his heart wasn’t racing as he watched you look around. He stood behind the glass case of cameras where the register was at and waited for you to say something.

The changes were subtle but there was no way he could miss them. The biggest was of course your fashion style now, it was different yet he could still pick up hints of how you used to dress. You still preferred black shoes and silver jewelry. Your hair was styled differently now but it still suited you perfectly, you still had your nose pierced and your nails painted.

Something that didn’t change was that familiar sparkle in your eyes when you were curious and right now he could see it as you did a 360 of his studio. He didn’t notice the way his finger began to tap anxiously against the glass waiting to see what you would say about it. He wasn’t looking to impress you or anything but…

“All of these are yours?” You asked as you stepped closer to a portrait on the wall with blue and black hues. Your gaze never shifted away from the portrait so he was forced to give you a verbal response, “Most, some are Taehyung’s.”

At the mention of your old friend you seemed to freeze up a little, “How is he?”

Jungkook couldn’t hold back a scoff as he crossed his arms over his chest, “He’s great, thanks for asking, don’t you want to ask how I am?”

Once again his slight attitude caught you off guard but you weren’t going to let it bring you down, you’ve come this far in your reconciliation. Your eyes narrowed as they met his glare and you rebutted, “I was getting there, jeez.”

This time around it was his turn to be surprised when you rolled your eyes and he hated that the corner of his lips threatened to turn upward in amusement. You finally quit looking at everything but him and turned in his direction like you were finally going to say something only for you to look up in search of the speakers that played a song you remembered he liked. Pink Maggit by Deftones started off slow and quietly but slowly raised volume that Jungkook had to lower it down a little more. He pretended not to notice his ringing phone that buzzed on the counter with Taehyung’s name displayed—probably wondering where he was.

“I don’t know if this holds meaning but I love this place,” you said and a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding slipped out.

“Thanks,” Jungkook said with a huff.

“Seriously Jungkook,” you stood in front of the counter now, “It’s like everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“It is,” he agreed, studying you and falling silent.

The longer he stayed thinking the harder it became to hold himself back and this time, more gentle and calm, he asked, “Y/n, why are you here?”

His phone lit up once more and he flipped it to face down and waited for you to respond. You were quiet for a moment as you tried gathering your thoughts and in the end you found yourself sitting alone in his studio with him confessing about the tapes.

There was a slight tension in the air that seemed to blur out the background noise of the restaurant’s chaos. He felt it but he pretended like he didn’t as he looked at his menu, not sure what to order or if he was even hungry.

“Yuna thinks you’re not interested,” was one of the first things Taehyung said to him as the two met up for dinner one night. Jungkook had already expected his friend to have something to say about the other night when he ditched their plans because something unexpected happened but… but he hadn’t processed what Taehyung had said until it was too late.

“Who?” Jungkook asked absentmindedly, unaware of the glare Taehyung sent him that had him snapping back into realization, “Oh… Oh! Yuna? Yeah, sorry about that.”

“I mean it’s whatever to me but the two of you were really hitting it off,” Taehyung said with a shrug that had Jungkook rolling his eyes.

“Come on, we’ve met once and I was drunk,” Jungkook said, “She’s cute but… I don’t know.”

He ignored the way Taehyung’s eyes seemed to narrow suspiciously, “You don’t know? You seemed to be pretty good talking to her over drinks and now you don’t know? What made you ditch out on me anyway?”

Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “Something came up—“

“No!” Taehyung groaned, “Don’t give me that bullshit. What was it?”

There was a slight pause in the conversation as the server came to take their orders but Taehyung just ushered them away to come back later. Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair, seeming exhausted before saying, “Nothing, honestly, just…”

“Just?”

“Y/n came to the studio.”

Silence filled the space between the two again as Taehyung stared at him dumbfounded. Jungkook couldn’t even think of anything to respond with either so they just sat there feeling the tension grow thicker by the second. After a while, Taehyung released a nervous chuckle and sighed, “Alright, for a second I thought you were being serious. Come up with a better excuse ne—“

“I’m being serious,” Jungkook said and Taehyung was finally able to see the small difference in his friend. His hair was a bit messier and he looked tired but he didn’t look bad he just looked different. “I was working late and you were blowing up my phone to get me to meet up with you guys but there I am smoking a stupid cigarette and she’s standing there like nothing ever happened asking if it’s open!”

“Shit,” Taehyung listened, “So what happened? That’s it? Did you talk? What did you talk about?”

“She asked about you,” Jungkook said with a roll of his eyes, “Then worried about me later but, she still had the tapes.”

“What tapes?”

“The tapes,” Jungkook didn’t care to clarify because his friend should know exactly what he is talking about. It took Taehyung a moment but realization dawned on him and he gasped, “All of the movies you made with her?”

“Yes,” Jungkook said, “I-I had forgotten all about them, honestly but then she comes along telling me she was moving and a friend of hers found them and they made her curious a—fuck, it’s so weird seeing her again.”

“Did Y/n change?” Taehyung asked, watching Jungkook nod his head. Jungkook really did look exhausted like he’s been thinking about this nonstop.

“So much but like… at the same time, it’s still Y/n,” Jungkook said with a small hint of a smile, “She’s still got the same look in her eye and her smile is still the same. I don’t know, we talked about the tapes but that’s really it an—“

“So go talk to her, even if it’s just to catch up,” Taehyung tried saying, half expecting his friend to reject the idea the way he’s rejected anything that had to do with you so to hear that he ditched him because you showed up out of the blue… he wants to know what this means.

In truth, Taehyung cared a lot about you both despite not being friends with you anymore. The three of you met at an impressionable age in your young adult years so it’s hard for him to act like he didn’t care about you two. You would hang out at the skatepark, record stupid videos, do stupid things at work, and you had been one of his best friends. To even hear that you asked about him made him feel good because there’s been so many times when he’s debated just picking up the phone and calling you but never brought himself to do it.

“You think I should talk to Y/n?” Jungkook asked as the server came back once more to ask if they were ready yet but once again Taehyung asked for another minute. He nodded his head, “I think… the two of you didn’t end terribly and if she came to find you then it wouldn’t hurt to talk. I know that it’s been six years and you don’t care anymore [ you’ve said that so many times now ] but personally I would want to see the tapes.”

Jungkook’s leg began to bounce anxiously under the table as he gnawed on his lip ring in thought. “So I should see Y/n?”

“I think so,” Taehyung said with a small smirk, “Or do you really not care because it’s been six years?”

There was a mocking undertone in his voice that Jungkook chose to ignore as he suddenly rose to his feet making his decision abrupt. Taehyung didn’t even bother stopping him as he left him behind in the restaurant, he just found it amusing. When the server came back to check if they were still not ready, Taehyung apologized for wasting their time and left them a tip before leaving too.

It has been six years, that thought hasn’t slipped Jungkook’s mind yet but that’s why he’s so confused. It’s been so long and you dumped him so for you to reach back out to him suddenly telling him you still have the tapes… don’t you realize how that can mess with his head? He’s over you, you’re over him so why would you do that? He has to know and that’s why he called the number you gave him the other night and asked to meet up.

When he got to your apartment building he was a bit taken back by the size of it. Compared to the small shoebox the two of you lived together in once upon a time, this was big and spacious. The inside was honestly what he expected. There was a record player in the corner with some old vinyls he knew you had: Deftones’ Around the Fur, Nirvana’s In Utero, Flyleaf’s Flyleaf, etc. You had a couple dead houseplants in various shades of dark green but no flowers, you seemed to still like the color black and you liked your bands and horror movies. On your coffee table was an arrangement of magazines all from the same publication and a drawing board next to it.

“Do you want anything to drink?” You asked from the kitchen, nervous to see him looking around so curiously. It was strange to have him here at your new place after claiming you were leaving the past in the past. Clearly that had been a lie because you’re the reason he’s here right now, you’re the one who reached out to him so you have no right to feel weird about him calling you tonight.

“Just water,” Jungkook mumbled to himself as his eyes casted down on the rundown box that he had been trying oh-so-desperately to avoid. It was shut but not well and the tape player laid next to it connected to the TV. He was itching to go through the tapes but he was also scared of what he would find on them.

Instead, he walked over to your record player looking through the various vinyls to see if he could play one. You’ve had the same player for years, it’s one he bought with you so he was well used to it and for some reason, he didn’t hesitate to go to it and play something himself like he used to. He chose a Deftones album and ‘Sextape’ began to play just in time for you to come to him with a glass of water looking at him curiously.

“Sorry,” Jungkook said once he realized he had subconsciously done what he used to do anytime he came over to your place, “Force of habit?”

It was stupid that a habit he had six years ago was coming back to him but for some reason seeing you again was making him realize how much the two of you used to love each other. He doesn’t think he has feelings for you still but he did miss you and he’ll never deny that.

Okay, false, he denied it all the time to Taehyung but that was then. He thought he would never see you again and if he did it was just in passing and that you would barely acknowledge him but that’s not what happened and he couldn’t help but miss you. If only he knew you felt the same but he always struggled to read you.

“It’s alright,” you said, moving to sit on the couch with his glass on the table letting him come join you. He sat down with a foot or two of space in between and looked around making you smile. You didn’t mean to smile but he just seemed so curious and intrigued by everything in here and as he looked around you looked at him.

God, he looked different. Last time you didn’t get a good look at his tattoos but right now you’re taking them all in with interest. Back then he would go on and on about all the tattoos he would get and now that he has them, you’ll admit he looks so good. He seemed to be doing so well for himself and that made you feel happy to see him doing what he always wanted to do. The confidence just radiated off him when before he was always a bit more insecure.

Not even just in his future plans but his looks too and now you’re noticing how buff he’s gotten. His arms and shoulders were huge and he looked intimidating, you’re sure if the 18 year old Jungkook saw what he looked like now, he wouldn’t believe it.

“How many have you watched?” Jungkook finally asked in regards of the tapes and for a second you forgot that’s why he came and it wasn’t just to catch up.

“A few, not all of them though,” you confessed looking at the box, “Some are hard to watch.”

He didn’t need you to elaborate to know what you were talking about. Toward the end of your relationship, there wasn’t a time Jungkook wasn’t recording you too and unfortunately that meant he caught a few rough moments on video. He developed them on tapes because he didn’t want to waste them and when he had given them to you he was mad and wanted to be petty so he gave them all but now he wishes he didn’t.

He realizes now that he’s not mad about the past. You dumped him because you were going to school and Jungkook wanted to go back to Busan with no real plan for his future. You worked so well together but it was so obvious that you reached a point where you wanted different things and you’re the one who had the guts to end it. Of course at the time it destroyed him but now that he’s grown from it, he can’t be mad anymore.

“Do you want me to play one?” You asked once he fell silent for too long. Jungkook bit his lip nervously before nodding his head shyly. You left his side to go set everything up and he just watched you feeling anxious. He hasn’t seen these tapes in six years and he’s not sure what to expect.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 21: THE ARGUMENT ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

The video started with a view of a snake terrarium in your old bedroom. It belonged to Jungkook but when he moved in with you, he brought it with and it stayed. It was red and warm with a small snake hiding in its cave but it was pretty and the two of you used to pass time staring at it with curiosity. There was a soft rock song playing in the background but it was muffled by your voices.

In truth, Jungkook had forgotten he was recording.

“So you’re going back to Busan?” Your voice was a bit groggy and low like you were scared to raise your voice too much. It was late and the two of you had spent most of your time at some manga store after work and have just now gotten home. You’ve been quiet since you had dinner and this is the first thing you’ve said to him since.

Jungkook was in a small Korn band tee that didn’t cover his full waist and showed a bit of his belly button piercing but he never really cared how his clothes fit him. His black jeans were always baggy and torn and his beanies always flattened his hair. He used to have a certain look that drew everyone’s attention even when he didn’t want it.

“Come with me,” Jungkook said in his deep tone, “I know it’s sudden, Y/n, but I don’t want to leave you, I don’t care if it’s not that far.”

“So why leave at all?” You asked, sitting down on bed avoiding his gaze, “You can do whatever you want here, why do you want to go back?”

Jungkook stayed quiet for a moment as he thought about it, “I don’t know, I don’t feel at home.”

You didn’t say anything as you sat on the edge of the bed staring at the wall to avoid looking at him. He hasn’t forgotten that you haven’t answered him yet, “Come with me.”

“I don’t know,” you admitted after some time contemplating, “What would we do?”

“We can stay with my brother for a while, find a job and start working,” Jungkook offered excitedly as he dropped down to his knees in front of you, making sure your attention was on him and not the ground, “We’ll find a place together.”

“What about school?” You asked. You’ve got about a year left, if that, and you can’t just move somewhere else and register all over again. You’ve got internships lined up and the right connections here. You have plans.

Jungkook’s brows furrowed, “You can transfer, it’s not hard, right? Just think about it Y/n, just you and me. We don’t have to worry about your family or anything else.”

“I can’t.”

For a second he wondered if you said anything at all because it was so quiet but when you looked up at him apologetically, he asked, “Why not?”

“I can’t just pick up everything and leave with you Jungkook,” you told him, slightly bothered by the fact that he didn’t understand that, “I’ve got plans that don’t involve me moving to Busan with a boy I’ve dated for a little over a year and who I probably won’t even be with for long.”

“What?” His face hardened as he listened to you, “You don’t want to be with me?”

“I didn’t say that,” you sighed, “I’m sorry, that’s not how I meant it, I just…”

“Just what, Y/n? Because last night we were talking about spending forever together and now you’re saying we won’t be together for long?” Jungkook said with a scoff as he stood up, his camera completely pushed to the back of his mind.

You ran your hand over your face with worry, “That was before you told me you want to move back to Busan,” you said honestly, “I don’t want to go anywhere, if you want to go and start over somewhere else then do it but you can’t just ask me to change everything I’ve had planned just so I could follow you. You don’t even have a real plan to go back. It might not feel like home to you here, Jungkook, but it does for me and it’s not fair that you can just ask me to pack up and leave when we’ve got nothing going on.”

“We have each other,” Jungkook’s voice was softer because he sounded hurt, “Isn't that enough?”

“For you, maybe, but not for me,” you argued coldly, “I can’t change my life for you.”

Jungkook stood there seemingly frozen as you got up from the bed, pushing past him and locking yourself in the bathroom away from him. He wasn’t sure what to think right now other than this was the first argument the two of you have ever had. It was an argument, right?

What even happened? You had spent such an amazing day together, he picked you up after your last class and you went out to eat. You went to a park where he played a song for you on the guitar you bought him and the two of you had been laughing all day. It felt so sweet until the moment he mentioned Busan and suddenly you had grown distant.

Suddenly you were saying the two of you wouldn’t last, is that true?

“Y/n?” You could hear Jungkook call for you with a small knock on the door, “Babe, can we talk?”

“I don’t want to,” you sniffled, “I just want to be alone right now.”

Jungkook pulled away from the door feeling dejected and blown off. He ran his fingers through his messy hair anxiously and looked around your shared bedroom for his things. He’ll just give you time to yourself and maybe later you could think things through again.

As he looked for his phone and keys, his eyes landed on the camcorder that captured the moment his snake left its cafe to curl up against a small log. He picked the camera up curiously, eyes widening as he saw it was recording.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

Jungkook sat there as still as ever, staring at the screen with glossy eyes as he watched the frozen image of himself pick up his camera—realizing he left it on. He looked down at his glass of water, feeling his throat become dry as he brought it to his lips, hand shaking.

Although it was six years ago and he had not thought about it once… seeing this video just brought him back to that day. It wasn’t the only argument the two of you had but he must’ve learned his lesson and kept the camera off. Later on the two of you argued and you said some hurtful things to him that you later apologized for but it didn’t make him feel any different.

That was the moment he realized maybe the relationship really would not have lasted long.

“Jungkook,” your voice was so soft now, slightly deeper and more mature but anytime you said his name it made his head spin nonetheless like he still couldn’t believe it.

When he looked up at you, you’re not sure what you had expected but it definitely wasn’t the sight of his reddened eyes as he took jagged breaths trying to calm his racing heart.

It’s just… back then he had been struck with such limerence that all he could think about was the two of you together anyway it could be. Sometimes it didn’t even matter if you weren’t sexually intimate, just knowing someone loved him and wanted him was enough and when you broke up with him… it hurt. It hurt really fucking bad and this video reminded him a bit of how that felt.

“I kept some tapes too,” he finally admitted, clearing his throat and changing the subject in hopes that you wouldn’t see how he was feeling. He circled the rim of his glass with his index finger as he looked down at his lap to avoid your soft gaze. A smile came to his face as he scoffed, “Um, this is kinda embarrassing to admit but… the last person I dated dumped me because I wouldn’t throw them away.”

“Because of the memories?” You asked quietly and he nodded. That’s how Jungkook was, once he told you how he never wanted to forget anything no matter how it made him feel and in this case he wanted to remember you no matter what happened and in a sense you had been the same. You wanted to keep the tapes because being with him had felt like home to you and you never wanted to leave it behind even if you said you were over it.

Watching them again was making you realize how much you needed Jungkook at the time and how much he had needed you. Maybe you still need him and it took you this long to admit that, knowing he couldn’t let you go either was like a slap in the face after the things you said to him.

The amount of times you argued that you had a future planned that didn’t need him in it only because you were heading toward different directions in life. Where Jungkook was more laidback, you were uptight and that had not been a good mix then. You told him you couldn’t just sit around in Busan and only have what the two of you had to rely on because one day he might decide he doesn’t need you anymore and throw you away after you changed your life for him. In the end, things happened in reverse and you wish you could just take it all back.

“Y/n—“

Jungkook went quiet as the soft buzz of a phone ringing cut him off and he was thankful. He didn’t even know what he planned on telling you and that scared him. Would he tell you that he missed you or that he thinks it would be best to never speak again?

You both looked down at your phone screen as it sat on the coffee table with a picture of you and Jimin smiling happily as he called. Your gaze shifted to Jungkook, “What were you going to say?”

The call came to an end and your attention was on him but he didn’t want to speak anymore and before he could tell you it didn’t matter, this stranger called again. He cleared his throat, “Um, you should answer that, it’s late anyway and we’ve both got work tomorrow. If you ever want to talk again… maybe we can, you have my number but I should go.

Your brows furrowed, shaking your head no as he set the glass down next to your ringing phone and stood up suddenly, “Jungkook, wai—“

He didn’t stop till he was out the door running his fingers through his hair, feeling exhausted and unsure of himself.

Watching that video reminded him that the two of you broke up for a reason and it had been valid at the time. It has been the right decision too even if it hurt and although it felt like a ‘Right Person Wrong Time’ moment, there’s nothing to do now and there’s no point in dwelling on the past.

He’s moved on.

Just as you debated following him out, your phone rang once more and with a dejected sigh, you answered, “What do you want?!”

“Whoa, chill on the attitude I’ve been trying to get you to answer because I have a serious question,” Jimin said on the other end of the line. Your face softened as you grew curious and worried “What is it?”

“Am I a gold or silver jewelry type of guy?” Jimin asked as he held up two matching bracelets in thought. You went quiet on your end and he raised a curious brow only to wince at the second your voice rose a couple octaves.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” You groaned, throwing yourself back on your couch annoyed that Jungkook left in such a hurry because Jimin had been blowing up your phone.

“Dead serious.”

Click.

“Hello?” Jimin spoke to himself hearing the line end, “Did you hang up on me?”

The end of the week came quicker than you had expected and yet time felt to slow down for you too. Ever since Jungkook came to your apartment and watched that video with you, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. The look in his eyes had captured your attention more than the video had but when he left without finishing what he was going to say… that’s when you got caught up. He used to always do that to you, he would start to say something and then try and push it away so he should know by now that you would think about it.

You just can’t help but wonder what he was going to say and it’s been eating at you for days.

“Y/n, can you pretend to listen to me?” Jimin asked as he bumped his wine glass again at yours to get your attention.

“What?” You asked looking up at your two friends who stared at you with confusion, “Sorry.”

Somin’s brows furrowed, “What’s up with you? You haven’t even touched your food.”

Your plate sat there barely eaten while theirs had been cleared out. You seemed to have forgotten where you were and it wasn’t until now that you looked around to see the three of you were still sitting in a dimly lit booth having an extremely late dinner on a Saturday night.

“Nothing, I’ve just been… y'know,” you shrugged, lifting up your silverware in hopes of finding the motivation to finish your meal. You bit your lip anxiously, your friends watching you made you nervous and it was very apparent. You haven’t told them about seeing Jungkook again but you’re not sure what they would make of it and that’s the only thing that has stopped you. You’re not sure what you even make of it, much less what they would think but you’re starting to realize maybe you need a second opinion.

“I met with Jungkook,” you finally said and despite the loudness of the restaurant, your table seemed to fall silent as they both looked at you.

“When?”

“Well, the first time, a couple weeks ago,” you said honestly, “The last time… two nights ago.”

They shared a look with each other that you had no desire to learn the meaning of before Jimin asked, “This is the ex boyfriend, right? The VCR tapes boyfriend?”

“That’s the one,” you said awkwardly, “We watched a tape the other night, it wasn’t a good one but… I don’t know.”

“You mean you invited him over?” Somin asked, making you shake your head no and she continued, “He just showed up? So did he find you first?”

“Nope, I looked for him,” you told them, hiding your face in your hands, “I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why?” Jimin asked, “Did you two argue?”

“No,” you told him, “No, we didn’t… it’s just…”

“It’s just now you can’t stop thinking about him,” Somin said instead of asked and you nodded your head yes. She released a sigh, “It’s been six years, Y/n.”

“I know,” you groaned letting your head fall into your hands further, “That’s why I’m so confused.”

“But was he mad or anything?” Jimin asked.

“No.”

“Then why don’t you try and talk to him?” He went on making you look at him.

“And tell him what?”

“That maybe you should start over—“

“No!” Somin said, “No, it’s been too long. Do you honestly think Jungkook would want that? All they did was talk, it just doesn’t make sense. It’s not like he's been waiting six years to hear from Y/n.”

You had to agree with her, you have no idea what Jungkook thinks about all this if he even does.

Not far from where you were with your friends was a packed street filled with nightlife and club goers all getting into their Saturday night and he was amongst them. He rarely chooses to come out for drinks and loud music unless it’s with his friends and this time was no different. After spending the past forty eight hours practically shut in his shop, Taehyung finally got him to come out to meet with the girls from last time.

Although he had sworn off meeting with Yuna again so he wouldn’t lead her on… he found himself doing it anyway. He just needed a distraction, you’re all he’s been able to think about and it wasn’t good for him. He couldn’t think about you like this.

You were his ex-girlfriend from so long ago and though meeting with you reminded him little by little of how well you used to be together… he can’t get over the fact that you left him. You left him when he needed you and that should have been the end of it. That had been the end of it. He had gone to Busan and you went your own way, when he came back to Seoul he only thought about you every now and then like when Taehyung would bring you up… or when he would remember the tapes… or listen to Deftones… or look at the guitar you gave him…

Maybe he did think about you frequently but not as frequent as this and he didn’t like it. You’ve been a constant in his mind since he first saw you standing under a street lamp not far from him asking if his studio was open. You’ve been a constant in his mind since he first ever met you too and it’s not fair that after you left him you get to come back and try to reconcile as friends.

“Want a smoke?” Taehyung asked his friend after he realized Jungkook had gone quiet for too long even when Yuna tried to ask him things. He didn’t give a verbal response, only nodded his head and began walking out of the packed club in hopes of more room to breathe.

Taehyung didn’t hesitate to reach into his pack of cigarettes and hand one to Jungkook watching his friend take it gladly and search his pockets for a lighter. He lit the end and did the same for Taehyung, looking up at the sky and attempting to tune out the loudness of the club behind him.

“So what’s up?” Taehyung asked, “You agreed to come out tonight but you seem out of it. Yuna’s been asking you questions nonstop and you’ve barely batted an eye at her.”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook took a drag of the cigarette, blowing it out shortly after with a shrug of his shoulders, “I’ll tell her I’m not feeling good or something.”

Taehyung didn’t say anything for a moment as he studied his best friend, finally asking, “Did you end up seeing Y/n?”

When Jungkook didn’t immediately react, Taehyung knew the answer. He flicked ash off the end of his cigarette and asked, “The night we had dinner?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, avoiding his friend’s gaze, “She didn’t ask about you this time, sorry.”

Taehyung just shrugged, knowing his friend was trying to lighten the growing tension but he didn’t care. He asked, “So then what did you talk about?”

“Not much,” Jungkook cleared his throat, a cloud of smoke covering his vision for a moment as he moved to the side to let a group of drunks through, “We watched one of the tapes though.”

“Which one?”

“It was an argument. I think it was when I first brought up Busan,” Jungkook admitted, kicking a rock with the tip of his black combat boot.

Taehyung nodded understandingly, “That’s it?”

“Pretty much, I left because some guy kept calling her,” Jungkook said, “I wasn’t sure if it was her boyfriend or not.”

Taehyung released a scoff, “You couldn’t have asked?”

“Why would it matter to me if it was?” Jungkook asked, “We’re exes for a reason, right?”

“And what was the reason, Jungkook?” Taehyung asked with a slightly harsher tone at his friend’s nonchalance, “Because you wanted her to follow you somewhere new and she didn’t want to. You’re back now, there’s no reason to not talk anymore so why didn’t you ask?”

“It won’t change anything,” Jungkook argued, annoyed by his friend’s need to always make him think about you when he didn’t want to, “So why bother?”

“Because it’s Y/n!” Taehyung said, “I get it, I really do. It’s been so long since you dated and it might not mean shit now but it did then and that’s never going to change no matter how hard you try and lie to yourself about it. And if it really didn’t matter anymore then you wouldn’t be out here tonight trying to forget seeing her again.”

“I went to see her because you told me to,” Jungkook said through gritted teeth.

“No,” Taehyung scoffed, “You went to see her because you wanted to, I just gave you the final push.”

“Nothing’s going to change thinking about her,” Jungkook said, “She’s a new person, so am I.”

“But on the inside you’re both still those same kids who ran away from home only to find it in each other again,” Taehyung said with a softer tone, “Come on man, I hate this sappy shit but open your eyes and realize that your home has always been with Y/n, that’s why you came back.”

“You’re wrong,” Jungkook glared at the ground, a lump forming in his throat, “She dumped me, she didn’t need me—“

“That’s not true and you know it, you grew apart because you wanted different things at the time but what about now?” Taehyung asked, “Y/n looked for you—I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to make you mad talking about it but Yoongi called me a few weeks back—right before you told me she went to the studio. Who do you think told her you were back?”

Jungkook didn’t say anything as he watched his cigarette burn on its own. He remembers when you went and you talked about the tapes but he didn’t have the courage to ask how you knew where he worked or that he had moved back. He should have asked but did it matter?

The muffled sound of music and chatter blurred out the silence that had grown between the two friends and Taehyung knew Jungkook had nothing to say. When a phone began to ring and the chest pocket of Jungkook’s black plaid flannel lit up with the outline of a screen and Taehyung didn’t have to ask to know who that might be. He dropped his cigarette on the floor to put it out with his shoe before placing an encouraging hand on his friend’s shoulder and leaving him outside alone.

For a moment Jungkook debated following him back into the dark nightclub and pretending like he was having the time of his life with Yuna but he knew he wouldn’t. He reached into his pocket and answered the call without another wasted second of hesitation, “Hello?”

“Jungkook, hey?” Your voice sounded a bit hoarse and he could hear noise behind you, “Are you, um, bu—do you have a moment?”

Jungkook looked up at the moon, taking a deep breath coming to terms with the fact that he’s afraid to open himself up to you again even if it’s just as acquaintances, “I’m not busy.”

“Really?” You asked slightly surprised, “Well, I—I was wondering if maybe you… um… maybe you wanted to meet me somewhere? O-or if, y’know you’re home… maybe I could come over to talk about us? My friend interrupted us last time and I feel like a lot of things went unsaid.”

You mentally cringed at yourself for sounding so nervous but what else was there to be expected? If you didn’t tell Jungkook how you felt now then maybe it’ll be another six years before you get to do it again—or worse, you won’t get another chance.

Jungkook looked around for the street sign as if he could imagine the distance he is from your place, “Where are you?”

Your heart seemed to raise, “I’m out with friends downtown but I can leave right no—“

“Where downtown?” He asked, walking just a bit away from the club entrance, listening to you tell him the street, “I’m a couple blocks down from there, at Club X.”

“Club X?” You asked and for a moment he debated telling you he was just with Taehyung but you quickly said, “Don’t move, I’ll walk.”

“Y/n, wai—“

Click.

Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair nervously, looking around once more knowing he should just stay put but you told him where you were too and the thought of just standing here waiting for you to arrive didn’t sit well with him. It would be too long of a wait and if he waits any longer he’s scared he’ll back out from wanting to see you too… so he ran.

You left your friends without much thought to how they felt about it, you paid your bill and left them just like that, practically running out the door. Before Jungkook could reject your proposal you hung up on him and that meant that if he didn’t want to see you then he would be leaving soon and you had to get to him before he did. You just needed to be honest.

Your feet ached from the heels you wore but that didn’t stop you from running down the uneven sidewalk, bumping into people on your way and checking for traffic whenever you crossed a street.

You wanted to be with him again, or at least try to be even if it was just as friends. It didn’t even have to be romantically [even if all the romantic feelings you had for him came back], you’ll take whatever he gives you as long as you know that he might feel the same. That’s all you want to know, that he might feel the same so you ran to him.

Jungkook was out of breath but he moved at a quicker pace than you did, running so fast he nearly dropped the person that bumped into him but he caught them before they could fall and held them by the arm, “Sorry.”

You stopped, tightening your hold on his forearm in shock, “Jungkook?”

He nearly stumbled as he froze on the spot, looking down at the person he bumped into on his way to you and his heart raced, “Y/n.”

“Jungkook, I—I told you to wait,” you stuttered as the two of you stood there at the end of a crosswalk ignoring all the people that passed you, “I—it’s about us, I wanted to see you—“

“Y/n,” he repeated your name, eyes scanning your face for any sign that you might regret asking to meet him but he found none. Before he could stop himself, his hands had made their way to your jaw, pulling you closer and it was all you needed to see to throw your arms around his neck and drag him down to meet your lips with his.

Jungkook didn’t hesitate to kiss you back with as much need and desire as you had and let his eyes shut, relishing in the feel of your soft lips that he had forgotten the taste of. The small kiss had been everything he missed, so soft and tender yet there was no mistaking the intense longing in each languid movement of your tongue with his that he nearly forgot where the two of you were till a car was honking annoyingly at the public display of affection—egging it on.

You pulled back with a pant, trying to catch your breath as your eyes ran along his face trying to understand his expression, hands sliding down to his ribs unsure if you should hold him or not. There was a lot you wanted to say but right now you wanted to feel him like this more, “Where?”

Jungkook bit his lip, breathing heavily through his nose as he slid his hand into yours and pulled you toward the street raising a hand to call a cab, “Mine.”

He was also aware that the two of you needed to talk and he planned on doing that but first… first he just needed to have you in his arms again. He just needed to feel you want him back one more time before the weight of whatever the two of you talked about came crashing down and there was no going back. It’s been six years of not being with you, you would think any ounce of romantic attraction would be gone and yet every time he remembered you or thought about you, it hit him harder than before and he spent the cab ride kissing you like he would never get the chance again—and he might not.

When you got to his house, you didn’t get a chance to look around when Jungkook was dragging you back into his arms, kicking the front door shut and kissing you.

“We’ll talk after,” you said more to yourself than to him when he yanked off his unbuttoned flannel, walking you backwards down a hall.

“After,” Jungkook repeated, breathless as he pulled away to kiss down your neck, placing soft kisses along your jaw and down your jugular. You craned yourself back to give him more room and dunk your fingers into his short black hair. He let his hands roam down your body, memorizing the feel of you under his fingertips once more and gripping your sides as you released a small gasp when the back of your knees hit a bed and you were falling back. His hands went to your back feeling along the material of your short black dress he hadn’t had a chance to admire and gently touched your ass, making you breathless before you felt his fingers slip under the hem further to feel along your spine, pulling the dress up until you were taking it off.

“It’s been so long,” he whispered softly between small kisses along your shoulder blade, letting you fall back on the bed in nothing but your underwear and bra. He sat back on his knees, staring down at you with glossy eyes. God, he missed you so much. He missed everything about you from your body to the way you used to softly run your fingers through his hair.

Six years.

Six years without seeing you laying down underneath him sliding a finger between the valley of your breasts teasingly, reaching behind you to take it off. He watched, nearly hypnotized by the way you slowly revealed all of yourself to him, saying, “Too long, I’ve almost forgotten how you feel.”

Jungkook licked his lips looking down at your bare chest, sinking down to lower his head until his nose lightly brushed against your soft skin making you wither just a little.

“I’ll fix that,” he whispered, eyes meeting yours and pressing a light kiss on your exposed breast, warm breath tickling you and making you bite your lip with anticipation.

“I want to see you,” your voice was as soft as his had been and he couldn’t help but sigh in content, nodding his head and pulling back to undress. He yanked off the black t-shirt he had worn under his flannel and kicked off his black denim jeans throwing them off somewhere on the floor near his snake terrarium that produced a red light—a huge contrast to the blue hue of light the rest of his apartment showed. When he sat bare between your parted legs you took in the sight of him.

His tattoos danced across his skin with every flex of his arms and it was all so new to you that you wanted to memorize it all. You reached your hands out hesitant to touch him, and heard a quiet gasp come from between his lips when your hands ran over his chest feeling every ridge of abdomen muscle, until you touched the top ball of his belly button piercing—surprised he still had it. His muscles tightened, feeling your fingertip slide back up until you were tracing the patterns of ink on his arm and shoulder.

"Y/n," Jungkook said your name with such tenderness that you stopped and looked up immediately, watching him hover over you and lower his mouth to the expanse of your neck sucking on your skin lightly. You bit your lip with want feeling his kisses moving lower, kissing along your collarbone. You ran your hands along his back when his tongue licked down to the valley of your breasts, tracing circles around your hardened nipple teasingly, bringing one into his mouth and sucking gently. The tip of his tongue flicked at your bud before capturing the whole thing in his mouth and licking the end, hands running along your sides to keep your body in place.

He kept this up for some time that all you could do was lay there and attempt to catch your breath as he memorized himself with your body again. It wasn’t just your breasts that got attention, he kissed your ribs and stomach, down your arms and along your neck. When he kissed along your navel toward your pelvis, his rough fingertips played with the hem of your panties until you were lifting your hips enough for him to slip them off you, leaving you just as nude as he.

“I missed this,” he said hoarsely, hands sliding down your inner thighs until he was slowly pulling them apart and fixing himself comfortably between them, “I don’t think you realize how much.”

He didn’t even realize how much he had missed—he didn’t allow himself to and now that he’s done it, it’s all he could focus on.

“I missed you too,” your tone was soft yet he could feel the emotion through it and it made him pause for a moment, debating if this was a confession or not and if he should stop so the two of you could talk.

He hadn't even touched you in the place you needed him most and yet you were on edge already. It’s not like you had expected to even kiss—much less this—that you found yourself already aroused but it felt so good to have him touch you again. After so much time apart, your body still reacted to him the way it used to and part of that scared you to admit.

"Jungkook," you licked your lips when his hair tickled against your cunt meaning he was getting closer. He hummed in response. Your voice was dry as you asked, "Condom?" It took him a second to pull away looking you in the eye as he sat back. Realization hit him like a truck as he stared down at your naked body then his, painfully aware of his hardened member and how quickly you had made him like this with only some kissing and teasing. He shook his head, "I don't—"

You sat up enough to pull him down and kiss him again, wanting nothing more but for this to continue whether you had a condom or not. “I don’t care, if you don’t.”

It didn’t take him long to understand what you meant and with the way your tongue kissed his, he couldn’t deny you even if he wanted to. Before, he used to take his time with you, making sure he satisfied all your needs with his tongue or fingers—whatever you wanted and he had subconsciously decided to do that tonight too. The only difference is that it’s been too long to take his time, he needed you now.

Your eyes ran over his body, still in disbelief with the sight of him above you, watching his hand slide down his toned stomach to his aching member. He stroked the tip of his cock softly, in search of some release as he let you take all the time you needed to watch him. The room was quiet aside from your heavy panting and buzz of his heat lamp but it still felt so loud. Your blood rushed to your ears, realizing what the two of you were doing and for a moment you wondered if this was a good idea but it didn’t take long for you to realize you didn’t care either way. You could worry about the repercussions later.

Jungkook leaned down between your parted thighs until his lips brushed against yours and his hard cock pressed against your wet heat, “You’re still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

Your heart dropped at his tender words, breath hitching in your throat and letting your hands touch against his arms, “Even after so long?”

There was a soft sound of a cricket not far outside the window and when he whispered, “Everlong,” to you, you had to stop and stare into his eyes in search of something to say. It was a small ode to Foo Fighters’ song ‘Everlong’ and how no matter how much time you spent apart, he would forever feel this way about you.

The red heat lamp did little to light the room along the moon but he still saw the way your eyes seemed to water, feeling your hands brush against his cheek, “I’m sorry.”

He seemed to freeze even as his cock aligned with your folds, coated in your arousal and all he needed was one push of his hips to feel you once more and yet he stopped, “Sorry?”

Did you want to stop?

Did you realize that this might not be the best idea?

Had he said something that made you want to leave?

“I was scared,” you admitted suddenly, “We wanted different things and I was scared that you would realize that after it was too late and you would just throw me away.”

He resisted the urge to scoff, bringing a hand up to push your hair out of your face and onto the pillow, “You know I never would have, baby.”

The pet name slipped out without his intention, “I never loved anyone as much as I loved you.”

It didn’t slip by either of you his use of past tense but you understood what he meant and you hated that you couldn’t before. It’s crazy how a silly little friendship between two coworkers who like the same music and style had developed so far out into the future that when your relationship ended, you couldn’t ever fully move on.

“I want to feel you,” you whispered, your nose brushing against his as he dropped his head to look down at the small space between your bodies. Jungkook was gentle in finding your entrance with the tip of his cock, guiding himself between your folds until you released a gasp at the stretch. Although it hurt for a moment, it didn’t take your body long to get used to him—like it had been waiting to feel him all this time and your mouths drew open in silent gasps when he bottomed out waiting there for the stretching. Even without foreplay your bodies seemed to know exactly what they needed to do and you hugged him, releasing a small moan in his ear as he dropped his head against your neck. Jungkook felt his heart race as you clung to him, letting him get used to feeling your walls around his dick once more and for a second it felt like too much, “Oh fuck, I missed you.”

“I missed you so much,” you confessed with a sigh when he drew his hips back slightly before bringing them forward in a single thrust as if testing the waters first, “So much, Jungkook.”

What’s crazy is how you had been so unaware of it as if some of the things you did weren’t constant reminders of him that you had to force yourself to forget. You still wore beanies because of him, you listened to fucking Korn because of him, you still slept on the right side because he liked the left—even when past partners would argue that they liked that side too, you never changed it. You had craved him in every aspect of your life even when you had forgotten it… that’s why you kept the tapes.

You let out a moan from his slow thrusts, in and out, in and out, dragging his cock out slowly as if letting you remember what it felt like to have him inside of you against and it had your legs moving to wrap around his waist. You grip his shoulders tightly moving your hips in rhythm with his, it was a slow and sensual yet rough fucking that had you begging, “Jungkook, more."

He rose his head from your neck, hips thrusting his thick cock into your wet pussy, doing exactly what you wanted.

He licked the corner of your mouth as you watched his hips draw back before pushing forward harshly, “I wanted to stop thinking about you, baby, but I couldn’t.”

You heard him clearly and you didn’t need to ask to understand what he meant, you simply ran your hands down his toned, muscular back guiding him to fuck you harder as he went on, “Even when I thought I hated you, I couldn’t let you go.”

The two of you were supposed to talk after and yet he he was losing his rhythm and talking to you while passionately and aggressively fucking you. “I’m sorry,” you repeated with a soft moan, “I should have never left you.” You kiss him for a moment before he moves down and leaves a bite on your chest making you whine out from it and he moves his hands down to your hips, gripping tightly as he fucked you harder, “You’re right, you shouldn’t have.”

" Jungkook," you moaned again, clinging to him, feeling your climax close, "I still love you."

He seemed to come to a halt at your sudden confession and you nearly pushed him away, surprised by yourself and your impulsiveness but he only pressed his body harder against yours.

"I love you so fucking much," he growled into your chest as he began to pound into you. The room filled with a string of moans as he fucked you unlike he ever had before, completely different yet still as passionate as he used to and moaned into your ear, “So close.”

“Ngh,” you gasped, “You feel so good, I think I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Mhm,” he hummed in content, clinging to you as much as possible, “Please, Y/n, I need to feel it, one more time baby, it’s been so long since you came for me.”

His thumb had slid down your body until it found your clit which had hardened with arousal and he rubbed light patterns around it, feeling your walls twitch and it became harder for him to drag his cock back out with the way you tightened.

“I’m going to cum,” he admitted, nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs urging you to let him go but your legs held him in place and he realized what you wanted—he wanted it too. He didn’t want to pull away from you for even a second and as your walls convulsed around him with release, he couldn’t help but let go with a moan.

He held your body to his panting heavily as your sweat covered bodies clung to each other desparatelt, both letting your orgasms ride their wave before pulling apart.

It took him a moment to gather enough strength to pull out, doing so with a small tired grunt until he was rolling onto his back feeling out of breath, hand searching for yours on the bed.

The realization that the two of you just had unprotected sex after six years apart seemed to hit you first and you sat up worried, looking over at him as he struggled to catch his breath, “Bathroom?”

He lifted a tired hand toward his en suite and you left him tired and alone in the darkness of his bedroom.

You cleaned yourself up as best as you could, trying not to let what just happened cloud your mind and remind yourself that you had wanted to talk to him. You’re not sure what this meant, if this meant anything more than just sex between ex lovers or if this was more but you didn’t have much time to question it when Jungkook knocked on the bathroom door and let himself in. He walked past you to the large bathtub, running the water and letting it fill as he looked at you with worry, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded your head, biting your lip, “You?”

A small smile came to his face as the water quickly filled behind him, “Yeah.”

When the bathtub was filled, Jungkook took your hand in his and led you inside the water, “But we should talk.”

“I agree,” you said, suddenly shy by your nakedness and brought your knees to your chest, sinking into the water with your back pressed against the side of the rub. Jungkook sat on the other end, never letting go of your hand as he pulled you toward him until you were between his legs with your back against his chest.

“Y/n,” his voice was soft as he cupped water in his palm to pour down on your bare shoulder, “I really did miss you.”

You released your lip from between your teeth, leaning further against him, “I missed you too.”

“And I want to be with you,” Jungkook admitted, “Even if it’s not how it used to be.”

It was impossible to be how it was six years ago and he’s realized that now but he doesn’t care. If you asked him to be friends even after the passionate sex the two of you had just had, he would do it as long as it meant he could be with you.

“You don’t hate me?” You asked sounding worried. You still loved him and it was embarassing enough to know you finally admitted it when he was inside you but it didn’t change the fact that it was true. You loved Jungkook so much and maybe you always had deep down even when you told yourself you didn’t but could the two of you really try this again?

“I could never,” he said placing a soft kiss on your shoulder as he began to wash the front of your body with his sponge, “You know that.”

“But I left you—“

“No, I left you,” Jungkook said, “I’m the one who wanted to move Y/n, not you. I’m the one who made you feel like you had to choose.”

You stayed quiet and he worried he upset you.

“I came back because I realized that my home wasn’t anywhere else but with you,” he confessed, “And I was too much of a coward when I came back that I didn’t go looking for you the second I had the chance to.”

“Jungkook,” you turned to face him, cuddling into him in the bathtub and eyes wide with affection, “Let’s try, one more time. L-let’s, let’s give us a shot… I… I—I have so much I wish I could’ve done better and if you just give me a chance I promise I will love and support anything you do—“

“Y/n, I would give us a million chances over again if it means I could be with you still.”

::.

yallllll the took me forever 😭ik there wasn’t too much focus on their relationship in the tapes but that’s bc I’m gonna do drabbles of them when I get the chance

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover7 @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedal edel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine e @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun n @sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi i @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

#jeon jungkook #Jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #Jungkook fic #Jungkook oneshot #Jungkook one shot #Jungkook angst #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #Jungkook fluff #Jungkook drabble #jungkook series #jungkook #jungkook bts #bts jungkook

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landosjpg · 5 months ago

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the black dog | ln

the one where you watch your ex boyfriend walk into some bar called the black dog.

lando norris x gender-neutral!reader

word count: ~1.9k

warnings: angst!!!!, happy ending so fluff as well, brief discussion of bad mental health, lando is a bit of a prick at some point, exes to lovers, one sexual innuendo (?)

note: based on this request and obviously the black dog by taylor swift. this is one of my favorite taylor songs EVER i got so excited when i got this request. i also love a good angsty, heart-breaking fic so giving this a happy ending was a bit harder than it should’ve but i hope you enjoy it!

“stop that,” you softly cooed, your hands cupping his cheeks to try and make him look at you.

the past few weeks had been harsh on him, and you could feel how every self-deprecating comment just made him drown deeper into his own head. you just wanted the best for him.

he didn’t answer. instead, he looked away again, trying his best to avoid your gaze at all costs.

“it’s just been a bad weekend, baby. next one will be better,” you added.

“stop with the optimistic bullshit,” he rudely said before you could add anything else to try and cheer him up.

you knew he was angry —rightfully so —after missing on a potential win only a few days before, but you couldn’t just sit and watch him bring himself down anymore.

“it just hurts to see you like this,” you mumbled.

“it’s hurting you?” he snapped, his tone accusing. “why do you have to make everything about you, every single time?”

as his words escaped his lips, he gently pushed you off his lap, immediately getting up from the couch.

“i’m just saying…” you tried to explain, although his words hurt more than you would ever admit out loud.

“i don’t care what you’re saying,” he cut you off. “it’s always the same story with you. the world doesn’t fucking revolve around you, you know?”

your lips parted, intending to defend yourself, but no words left your mouth. not like lando would had let you speak, anyway.

“this is the last thing i need right now, i’m done here,” he grumbled.

you froze at the tone of his voice, not having heard him talking to you like that ever before. and you didn’t do anything to stop him when he picked up his jacket and walked to the entrance of your apartment, announcing his departure with a loud slam of the front door.

he just needed time, you told yourself.

but he didn’t call, and you didn’t wake up to a simple apology in your messages and him asking to see you as you were used to.

and it had been forty-two days since he had stormed out of your apartment and, unknowingly to you, vowed to never talk to you again.

and after six weeks of no contact, you still missed him.

lando had been more than just your boyfriend, he had been your best friend for as long as you could remember; he was there, in every little memory you had.

you had always been the first person he ran to whenever the smallest thing happened, and for the past few weeks you had to settle for watching his life go on without you through pictures and media outlets.

and as much as your friends tried to tell you that it would get better, every morning without him just got harder than the previous one; used to having his arms wrapped all around you and his curls tickling your neck, waking up in a cold bed was certainly something you weren’t quite fond of.

however, he seemed to be moving on.

that’s what you thought as you sat in the darkness of your room, the only light illuminating the space being the dim glow of your phone’s screen as you intently watched the small, blue dot moving on your screen.

he had forgotten to turn his location off.

like every weekend since the break up, you watched him walk into some random bar in a different city, piercing a new, deeper hole in your heart every time. and you couldn’t help but hope that they played your song each night, that even the smallest thing reminded him of you.

but instead, every morning you woke up to a new picture of him leaving the place with some girl wrapped around his arm, while you could barely wear your favorite clothes because they took you back to a memory you shared with him.

you didn’t understand how he didn’t miss you, how he could be doing so good without you by his side.

୨୧

it had never been his intention to walk out of your life that afternoon. but when the anger washed away, all he could feel was shame.

guilt, for how he had talked to you when all you wanted was to help. and he wasn’t sure he could ever look at you in the eyes without the feeling overfilling his senses. so, instead, he did what he knew best: he ran away.

and the only thing that could take you off his mind for some time was drowning his own pain in alcohol every weekend, end the night with some girl’s legs wrapped around him.

but that night, he froze as the first notes of your song started playing; the song that had started playing when you got in his car the first time he took you out on a proper date. and the upbeat music took him right back to that day.

he could still picture the sight of your teary eyes as you walked into his apartment after another failed date —the guy hadn’t even showed up; the sound of your sobs as you buried your face on his chest, looking for some comfort, still making his heart clench.

“you deserve better,” he had whispered into your hair, placing a soft kiss on top of your head. “someone who’s willing to give you everything.”

“i’m tired of searching,” you had simply mumbled, feeling hopeless after so many disappointments.

“maybe you don’t have to search for it,” he had said before he could even think about his words. “maybe it’s been right in front of your nose all this time.”

at the underlying confession of his words, you raised your head from his chest to look up at him.

“hm?” you hummed.

lando had always liked you; but he had also been scared of you not reciprocating his feelings, of your friendship being ruined by the love he had for you. however, he had been completely oblivious as to the way you had always looked at him.

but that time, he caught the glint in your eyes as his gaze met yours, and so he confidently asked:

“can i take you out on a date?”

he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he saw you crack a smile, relief washing all over him.

“i would love to,” you mumbled.

he smiled at your reply, his thumbs coming up to wipe the remains of your tears.

“tonight, then?” he softly kissed your cheek before you nodded and wrapped your arms around his frame, unknowing of how the turn your relationship would take after that night.

he looked down at the girl who was grinding herself against him, trying to ignore the memories flooding his mind; but her eyes didn’t sparkle the way yours did as the song played. and he knew she just wouldn’t get the jokes he was so tempted to make, the ones that would send you into a fist of laughter despite of the many times you had heard them before.

in short, she simply wasn’t you. and he knew he wouldn’t ever feel that way with someone else.

“excuse me,” he said, trying to push her away from him.

he made his way out of the bar pushing in between the sea of people, his phone clutched in his hand the second he stepped a foot outside.

he sighed as he looked at his screen, the cool air making him come back to his senses; he couldn’t just text you. not after ghosting you for over a month.

but he missed you, so what else could he do? how else could he apologize for what he did?

୨୧

you turned around in bed as you felt the room being illuminated again by the screen of your phone, a message interrupting your attempt to sleep.

your heart skipped a beat as you saw his contact picture, followed by a simple “are you up?”. you couldn’t believe your eyes, anxiety coursing through your veins as you stared at the message.

“you still have read receipts on”

“say something, please”

fuck, of course. and you had been staring at his text for five minutes straight.

“what?” you simply typed with shaky fingers; it was dry, yes, but you were still hurt about how things ended between the two of you.

his answer came almost immediately: “just wanted to apologize” it read.

but nothing could’ve prepared you for his next message, asking if he could come over instead of doing so over text.

you hesitated for a few minutes; you knew you shouldn’t, but you needed closure as well.

so, naturally, you accepted.

you anxiously padded around your house as you waited for him, biting your nails as you imagined every possible scenario that could happen. five. ten. fifteen minutes, and then you heard a knock on the door.

the door opened slowly, revealing the figure of your ex-boyfriend.

you stepped aside and let him in, closing the door behind him and turning around with your gaze fixed on the floor. the silence was deafening,and the situation felt awkward.

“can i have some water?” lando tried to break the ice, his eyes fixed on you as you simply nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.

when you came back only a few minutes later with two glasses on your hands, he had made himself comfortable. you walked to the couch and sat next to him, with a considerable distance between the two of you.

“i just…” he broke the silence again, his voice low and slightly nervous. you didn’t dare look at him yet, so you looked down at your lap, where you fidgeted with your fingers.

you heard him sigh as he chose his next words carefully.

“i never meant to hurt you, or ruin what we had,” lando started. “it was a few bad weeks, and i know i shouldn’t have, but i took it all out on you. and then i didn’t think i could even look you in the face after what i said.”

you looked up at him, your eyes starting to water as you took in his words.

“you could’ve just explained yourself, i would’ve understood,” you replied with a thin, vulnerable voice.

“i was ashamed of myself after the fight and i thought running away from all of it would be the best,” he said as his gaze met yours. “truth is i haven’t stopped thinking about you for a single minute all this time. i really miss you,” he almost whispered.

“i…” you stuttered.

“i get it if you can’t forgive me,” his voice broke mid-sentence.

“‘s not that,” you mumbled, a few tears running down your cheeks. “just wish it didn’t take you this long.”

you noticed his pained expression as he noticed the tears on your face, quickly whispering a soft “c’mere” as he opened his arms. you sighed and scooped next to him, letting his arms wrap around your frame in a comforting hug.

“i’m really sorry,” you heard him whisper into your hair before he planted a gentle kiss on top of your head. “i won’t leave again.”

“promise?” you murmured, snuggling closer into his embrace.

“promise, baby,” he answered in the same low voice.

you nodded slightly, your eyes fluttering close as you took in his scent and the way his grip on you tightened, an oath to never let you go again.

#lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris blurb #lando norris drabble #lando norris imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #ln4 x y/n #ln4 one shot #ln4 smut #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 x reader

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dutiful-wildcraft · 6 months ago

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Restoration Worship

Nikolai x Fat F! Reader Tags: monsterfucking, gargoyles, dubcon, overstimulation, tail sex, anal play, double penetration, squirting, cunnilingus, p in v, dirty talk. I think thats about it, I think yall should know by now that every reader I write is fat, blacked out and wrote 3K words of gargoyle smut sooo… enjoy!

It had begun as a research effort, a little trip to the cemetery to hopefully procure some interesting insight into a little project she’d been working on for the museum. Eyes scanning over lichen covered graves and cracked mausoleums, words long faded in time.

She’d seen the videos before. Kind strangers brushing away years of decay with a brush and patience. Who would we be without the knowledge from our predecessors after all?

So with a passion for restoration and a need for busy hands she set to work, uncovering gracious prayers and one of the best cookie recipes she’d ever tasted set within the worn stone.

It’s months before she comes across him. He’s a big boy, covered in lichen and the webs of spiders, stone stained heavily from the elements. Sharp claws curl into the pedestal he hunkers on, broad wings curled against his back, stone teeth bared in warning.

Even like this he’s beautiful, strong features carved delicately in tarnished marble.

She’d found her next project.

A decade had passed since death had been at Nikolai’s doorstep, when he’d let the stone take him, closed himself off from the world to rest after an egregious injury. He’d watched over the lowly cemetery with weak eyes, until they too became covered. Until he’d lost himself to the void, consciousness falling into inky blackness as he waited amongst the trees.

That is, until her.

His days had shifted from the chittering of squirrels and bird song to an incessant chatter. A soft english lilt that stirred something in his hazy mind. He likes the english. Past visions of old friends flash in his mind, warm dark skin, cigars, a mask made of bone.

How could he forget?

He strains, willing his senses back to life, listens harder for the soft voice amongst the tombstones.

She talks to the dead, chattering away at graves that will never speak back to her. This graveyard is old, quiet, its occupants long passed over after they stopped burying the dead here, when their loved ones had long passed on themselves.

She asks them questions, makes up stories, tells them about her day. She’s a museum conservator and she brings things back to life all the time. Making them shiny and new, loving them through hard work and careful hands so that others may get to love them too.

And when she’s not talking she’s humming, or singing so off tune that even the birds grumble. But she’s laughing at herself, looking up songs from the years written on the graves and playing those too, a little tune the deceased might be familiar with.

Her voice bounces from grave to grave, and he realizes she’s cleaning them, scrubbing the dirt away and bidding them adieu when her task is finished.

Sweet thing, he muses, wishing he could see her, wishing she would bring him to life too.

His dream comes true on a sunny afternoon, the summer rays warming his stone, waking him just a little more.

She’s close, footsteps rustling the leaves at his feet as she circles him.

“You keep watch don’t you?” she asks him seriously, and she’s right there. So close he can smell her, like blueberries and vanilla sugar, it’d make his mouth water if he could just move.

She speaks again, but he can barely register the words as warm gentle hands clear the infinite dark from his field of view. Brushing away vines and lichen.

“There! That’s better!”

And there she is. A big soft girl, with sweet round cheeks flushed from the heat. He needs to hold her, crush her close and reward her for her kindness, but she’s gone just as quickly, promising to return to clean him properly, and his marble heart warms at the thought. He commits her form to memory, watching her soft braids sway against her back as she leaves.

A longing seeping deep into his marrow as he lets the sleep take him again.

She returns the following weekend, small spray rig and gentle cleaner in hand when she finds him again. She’s mindful, soft hands gently tugging at his limbs to test the durability before ambling her soft body onto his platform. It’s wonderful, to finally feel the heat of another against his skin, and he thinks if the sun weren’t touching him he could come to life now, tackle her into the soft grass and ravish her. He knows she’d be so sweet, whimpering and mewling under his touch.

It would wait for another time.

She works from the top down, soaking him with warm water before scrubbing him with soft bristle brushes. She’s delicate, leaning her soft body against his as she cleans, washing away years of dirt and moss. She scrubs behind his ears, in the bend of his horns, clearing the nests of insects from between his teeth. He revels in the feel of her, soft breasts and belly pressed to his skin, gentle hands stroking over the sensitive margins of his wings. Had he been mobile he’d be purring, with spread wings and stiff cock all over some gentle petting.

He mourns when she leaves, water cooling against his stone as she packs up before nightfall.

But it gives him time to practice.

It takes days, weeks, before he can move under the cover of night, limbs coming to life sluggishly, the world becoming more clear to his dulled senses.

She returns like clockwork, spending the afternoons with him, chatting and humming, leaning against his platform as she eats her lunch.

He can’t move far, just a few movements, but he gets greedy, finally willing his wings to open, letting them stretch pleasantly in the cool night air and freeze there when the sun freezes him again.

She’s a bit startled when she returns, eyeing him with confusion and the broad reptilian wings spread proudly behind his back. Come closer love, they’ve always been this way.

Nevertheless she scrubs those too, warm hands petting over the webbing, ghost along the modified fingers of his wings. He has half a mind to wallow in the night, cover himself in more dirt if only to keep her trips regular. But he knows his time is coming to an end when she dusts away the last leaves from his pedestal.

She has a final rest with him, his sweet keeper perched at his feet as she watches the sun disappear behind the trees.

And finally, finally. As the soft light of the moon kisses his skin, he greets her.

“Hello solnyshka” he purrs, voice low and gravely, amusement crinkling pupil-less eyes, as he watches her nearly jump out of her skin. Scrambling away and whirling to take a look at the massive gargoyle. He can see now, really see, and she’s lovely. Freckles dusting round cheeks, bulky denim and cotton hiding big soft curves underneath.

She’s frozen, staring at him with wide eyes. He stretches, not unlike a cat, trembling slightly with the effort as he spreads his wings, lifts his hands above his head to crack his own spine, shaking away the stiffness from his tired bones. He relaxes again, smiling at her fondly, revealing sharp fangs underneath.

“I’m grateful for your work.” he calls again, taking a slow step off of his platform, clawed feet digging into the earth below. He is truly, his new keeper being the first ray of sun to truly grace his skin in decades. Just the light he needed to wake him from his slumber. He needs to hold her, feel her softness under his claws.

She swallows, clasping trembling hands in front of her.

“I didn’t mean to be a bother, sir”

Sir.

He purrs at the honorific, but why did she think she was a bother? Had she not heard him?

“Not a bother, you’ve “restored” me” he chuckles, “quite well too” he adds looking over his limbs as he eases closer. “Call me Kolya.”

She repeats it, mimicking the accent just right, and being the polite thing she is, she gives him her name in return. It melts in his mouth like sugar, His pretty prize unaware of the hold she’s given him with just her name alone.

“Come here, let me have a look at you”

She hesitates a moment before inching towards him, and he meets her halfway with a long stride, chin to his chest as he looks her up and down. His poor thing is so nervous. Fidgeting under his gaze, pulling, pushing and twisting at the joints of her fingers, desperate to get them to pop, to alleviate some of the tension in her body.

He takes her hand in his, sliding a claw between her fingers to shake them loose, letting her soft little hand curl around his own. He dwarfs her, already half-hard with just her palm in his. He moves her carefully, flipping her hand over to trace a dark claw over the sensitive lines of her palm drawing a small shiver from her that has his cock twitching in interest.

He continues, gliding his fingers up her arm, over her shoulder, toying briefly with the denim strap of her overalls. She’s bashful, keeping her eyes averted, a hot flush to her cheeks as he looks her over.

“None of that” he chides, sliding his fingers beneath her chin, tilting her back. Her lips part, pupils blown as he smiles down at her, some of her nervousness melting away as he handles her so gently. “So pretty, daragaya” and the stars in her eyes as he praises her break what little self control he has left.

He’s quick, catching her round face in both hands and bending low, pressing a hungry kiss to her lips. She squirms briefly, hands flying up to grip his wrists in panic, he curls a tail around her calf, holding her neatly in place as he licks into her mouth, earning a soft gasp from his keeper as her lips part for him.

Good gods, she even tastes sweet.

He purrs happily into her mouth, savoring the taste of her flavored chapstick, the end of his tail flickering happily, brushing the soft curve of her ass. She’s panting now, a soft little whine bubbling from her throat at the contact. He dives low, licking a stripe across her jaw, reveling in the salt of her skin before nibbling and kissing his way down her throat, clawed fingers easily popping the cheap metal clasps of her outfit, pushing the denim away before yanking off the extra cotton shirt underneath.

Nikolai thinks it should be forbidden for such soft curves to be hidden like that. She’s a vision, an angel with the most beautiful soft curves, and when he has her back in his den he’ll dress her in the finest silks and jewelry, pretty chains to hug her waist, dangle nicely between her breasts. Highlight all his favorite parts. He might even keep her bare, just for his eyes to see.

She shivers in the cold, using her arms to cover her breasts as best as she could, eyes averted from his hungry gaze. Why did she hide from him? There should be paintings of her, statues in her image. She was perfect. So warm and soft, he kneaded at the handles at her hips, clawed fingers tracing over the soft swell of her belly, the rolls at her sides, skin hot beneath his fingers. He huffs, snagging her wrists and holding them well above her head, using the extra digits at the ends of his wings to hold her there, pulled taught and vulnerable beneath his gaze.

With a sharp claw he rips away the scrap of fabric that covered her chest, large hands palming them eagerly, nipples pebbling under the warm drag of his thumbs. He hums, pinching and pulling at her perfect little tits, hard cock nudging incessantly at her belly, leaving glistening webs of pre-cum over her skin as she whimpers and gasps.

“Kolya” she whines as he drags a hot tongue over her soft peaks, flicking his tongue over her pert skin before drawing a nipple into his mouth, nibbling and suckleing greedily. He breaks away, grinning up at her, sinking his teeth into the meat of her breast cheekily. She squirms, eyes squeezed tight and teeth dug into her plump lip as she tries halfheartedly to escape him. Though the wiggling only gives her tits a lovely jiggle that has him diving in again, nipping at her nipple just to earn himself another squeal.

He kisses over the skin in a gentle apology before sliding down her belly, pressing a trail of hot kisses there before he reaches the seam of her panties, cute little curls peaking out around the edges at her thighs. He marvels at the dark stain of her arousal, pressing his nose into the soaked fabric and breathing deep. She bucks against his face, squirming madly to get some kind friction. Not so demure now are you?

“I’ll take care of you greedy girl, patience.” he warns, tail patting her ass fondly as he drags his tongue along the sodden fabric. He rips those away too, thick tongue sliding against her folds with little preamble, the resounding moan like music to his ears. Using his tail to tug her legs further apart, he lavishes her in earnest, slurping at her cunt like a beast, using his thumbs to spready her puffy lips apart. She’s heaven, sweet and tangy on his tongue, and he would stay here for hours, drinking her down until her legs gave out and then taking more.

He sinks his tongue inside, licking into her tight heat as his nose brushes against her clit, humming wickedly as she cries and bucks. He takes control, dragging his claws up to grip her hips, guiding her into a nice and easy rhythm against his face. He loves every minute of it, reveling in the drag of her soaked folds against his tongue, the broken whines as he breaks away to suck her clit. He drags her to the edge over and over, fucking his tongue back into her wet heat and nosing at her sensitive nerves until she’s gushing against his face with a choked cry.

“So good, solnyshka” he praises, sitting back on his haunches to admire his work. He leans in, licking a hot stripe up her thigh, catching the errant rivulets of slick as they drip from her.

“So wet, I bet we can make a bigger mess can’t we?” he purrs, dragging his knuckles against the soaked seam of her sex, drawing a tired whimper from her. She sags against his hold, chest flushed, and thighs soaked. He could devour her whole like this.

He releases her, lifting her spent body into his arms, easing her down onto the clean pedestal that was once his. Pushing her legs apart he slides between them, sliding his neglected cock over her folds, using his tip to rub at her sensitive clit before sliding it along her body. He’s thick, head tapered to a near point, thick ridges rippling along underside of his shaft for a textured drag. Heavy balls kiss the seam of her sex as he rests there, tip drooling against her stomach. He needs her to see what she’s getting herself into, how much she’ll need to take for him. His soft girl looks up at him, big glassy eyes full of nervous anticipation.

“I know” he coos, grinding himself against her skin, “you can take it, my perfect girl, we just need a little more room.”

He needs her pliant, well stretched to take him fully. With his claws as they were, using his fingers wasn’t an option, but he does have another solution. Dragging a heavy palm through her slick he grabs hold of his tail, coating the tapered end thoroughly before guiding it toward her entrance, using a thumb to circle her clit as he slips inside.

The tip is easy, no thicker than a couple of her fingers as it pushes its way inside, the glide nice and easy from her previous orgasm. He fucks nice and slow, thrusting the tip in shallowly until she’s whining for more. He leans over her, rutting his cock against the crease of her thigh as he sinks his tail in further, fucks into her with more speed, using his hands wisely to play with her tits, rolling her nipples between his fingers and nibbling at her lips to distract her from the stretch. She’s holding on for dear life, hands gripping his horns for purchase.

Even as spent as she is, she clenches around him desperately, sweet pussy desperate to take as much of him as she can. He can’t wait to feel her pulsing against his cock. Wet and hot, and so so tight.

He growls, rutting into her with more fervor. She’s close, chubby thighs clenching as he curls the tip of his tail a bit, just to bully more of his length inside of her. She’s lost in it, frantically kissing at his face as her peak draws closer and closer. Sneaking a thumb against her clit she cums again, legs slamming shut against his tail as he fucks her through it, laughing as she sobs, shoving at him weakly as she gushes messily around him again, slick coating his abdomen and dribbling down the stone underneath.

“Good girl, one more for me zoloste, I know you can do it.” He yanks her thighs apart pulling his tail from her greedy cunt and dragging her further down the pedestal, her plush ass hanging off the edge. He rests her thighs against his chest, kissing her ankle soothingly as he drags himself through her slick folds, thoroughly coating himself before lining up with her entrance.

Even with the prep it’s a tight squeeze. He takes it slow, bullying his way inside her soaked heat, gummy walls squeezing him tight as he sinks in, whimpering as the ridges of his cock drag against her sore entrance. He fucks slowly, pumping in shallow thrusts before he pulls out again, teasing her tired clit and pushing in again, head thrown back with victorious groan as he finally pushes himself to the hilt.

Its a gorgeous sight, her pussy split open on the girth of him, legs spread wide and clit twitching as he fucks her with tight shallow circles. She’s a mess, cheeks streaked with tears and trembling against the stone, whimpers and little hiccups falling from her lips. He hushes her, sliding his palms against her thighs, catching her hands to curl his fingers in hers, anchoring her there as he picks up the pace.

She’s already close, cunt clenching around him with every thrust. He fucks into her with earnest, her pretty fat pussy swallowing him down to the balls as the sticky slap of it echoes through the cemetery.

“Fuck, taking me like you were made for it.” he snarls bending over her to lick into her mouth, swallowing every little cry and plea as he fucks her mercilessly, soft body jiggling with the harshness of it.

“You’ll give me anything won’t you? Let me fill up this pretty pussy.” he pants, yanking her closer, and with a sick knowing grin, his tail slides underneath her, slick tip toying with her asshole. “Let me fill this pretty ass too, wouldn’t you?”

“Anything you want, Kolya, please, please,” she begs, his perfect girl cock drunk and hazy, tears spilling down her cheeks as she rocks into him for more.

“Don’t even know what's good for you, silly girl, you’d let me tear you in two.” he chuckles, “ but I’ll give you a little taste.” His tip slides between her cheeks, already slick from her own juices. He teases her there, flickering playfully at her hole before sinking in slowly, pushing just past her tight ring of muscle to fill her up, groaning at the feel of his own cock sliding against her walls.

Her next orgasm takes her like a freight train, soft body arching and trembling as it ravages through her. He fucks her through it, pussy clenching him like a vice as he pulls his tail from her ass, sharp claws digging into the meat of her hips hard enough to draw blood as he chases his own end.

Snarling like a beast he pounds into her, sinking himself deep as he comes with a low growl, painting her insides with long spurts. Filling her completely until his spend seeps out around his cock, spilling down her thighs and into the soft earth below.

He holds them there like that, cock buried deep as he marks her from the inside out, his bulky head resting against her breasts as they both come down.

His, his, his.

His perfect soft girl, flushed and damp from sweat and slick, trembling hands carding though his dark hair. Kind and gentle despite the way he ravaged her.

And when she leans up, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips with a nervous giggle, he knows he’ll guard her for the rest of his days.

#nikolai x reader #nikolai x f!reader #gargoyle!nikolai #monster smut #nikolai cod #wildcraft writing #restoration worship #i've looked and looked so i apology for any egregious errors #plus size reader

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anemoiashifts · 3 months ago

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why you should stop consuming media if you want to shift.

where your attention goes, is where energy will follow. the more you focus on something, the more real it becomes.

⭑.ᐟ i made a post a while ago saying “why you should get off social media if you want to shift”. id like to expand upon that a little more. so, here’s a “why you should stop consuming media” or at the very least “why you should consume media carefully”.

you are being programmed through everything — social media, music lyrics, television, advertising, the news. this is why meta wants tiktok b@nn3d so badly. its taking away their ability to control & their influence upon you because average people spend more time on tiktok then anything else. this can be extended to news networks because more and more people are using it as news sources. media, not just social, need your attention in order to program you. as someone who has taken classes marketing, the core of what my class was, was teaching someone to be the best manipulator. my professor said to always “play on people’s emotions”. anything that has the ability to take your attention away & live in a negative & distracted stake, is taking away your ability to create the life you want to live. a lot of — if not everything — is about power & controlling you for someones benefit.

taking this into account, you can now begin to understand why television shows are called television programs. it is programming you to think & behave & make purchases. for example, the human mind does not know the difference between real & fake. if something provokes an emotion out of you — that emotion it is still real, even it was brought on by fiction. the human brain cannot truly comprehend fiction. this is why people form such emotional attachments to fictional characters because our brains cannot distinguish that they are a character or a scenario is not real.

power comes from your attention & what you focus on; what emotion it provokes.

₊˚⊹♡ why is this relevant ?

your thoughts & feelings create your reality.

by waking up every morning after a shifting attempt & saying “i didn’t shift, im not in my desired reality” is what you’re affirming to yourself. when you roll over & scroll on your phone, you are taking your attention away from persisting that you are in the wish fulfilled. you aren’t focusing on that you have already shifted. every shifting tiktok video is affirming that you aren’t in your desired reality. it’s reinforcing that idea of “you’ll shift tonight” “who would do this in your desired reality” “___ in my desired reality” — that you are still here. it’s hardly ever said “you’ve already shifted” on tiktok. again, this circles back to “playing on people’s emotions” — desperation & excitement. keeping people in a loop of shifting content instead of actually wanting to experience it for yourself. i will admit, practically everyone is guilty of this — self included. it definitely doesn’t come from a place of malice & i doubt it’s always intentional on anyone’s part but it’s something to consider that every shifting video you come across is a reminder that you haven’t shifted yet.

limit what you consume. for example, if you keep listening to a sad song, you’re going to be sad & pulled back into a time in your life that no longer serves you. it removes you from the present. the brain has no concept of time as it is a man-made idea. by eliminating media entirely (or limiting / being mindful of what is being fed to you & taking nothing at face value), you are getting that power back.

media keeps you distracted. it keeps you focused on other things & not your manifestations. it constantly brings back you into the 3d. the longer you’re focused on the 3d, the further away you will be removed from your manifestations & you will be pulled into things that fuel others desires.

#desired reality #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting #shiftok #shifting motivation #shifting realities #shifter #reality shifter

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unsolved-duvall · 2 years ago

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𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐀 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 - 𝐞.𝐦. (𝟏𝟖+)

older rockstar!eddie x fem!reader

part one | part two

summary eddie munson was a world famous rockstar. and, apparently, an asshole. but you weren't one to believe rumours, so when eddie asks to meet you, who are you to say no? (11.4k)

warnings age gap, reader is 22 and eddie is 40 (if this makes you uncomfortable please do not read! <3) smut, lots of smut. an overuse of nicknames (doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), dom!eddie, choking, penetrative sex, oral sex f!receiving, fingering, slight overstimulation, reader cries once during sex but for good reasons! promise. minors shoo, i'll chase you away with a stick. don't make me do it. (if i've missed anything please let me know!)

This was a bad idea. You knew that.

You should go home.

But he was right there. And he was so pretty.

He had asked for you. He had picked you out of the crowd. And now you were in his hotel room.

You were so fucked.

You (and everyone who knew Eddie) knew that he did this all the time, it was practically an after-show ritual for him. Only on a very rare occasion did he go back to his hotel room by himself, or with the same person. It was always someone new, someone he had seen at the show, someone who caught his eye. And tonight that were you.

Okay, if you were going to be completely honest here, this might have been what you wanted all along. But you never thought it would actually happen, you weren’t that delusional. But you had spent a little longer on your appearance tonight, and you had worn that outfit that showed off all your best assets and made you feel really fucking hot.

And Eddie really needed to remember to thank you for that. Because once he saw you at the front of the crowd he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. In between songs he had walked over to the side of the stage, bending down so he could speak into the security guard's ear, and had told him the same thing he told him every night, accompanied with a point in your general direction.

So when the show was coming to an end, security walked over to you and said “When the show ends hang around okay? Eddie wants to see you.”

Oh.

You just nodded and blurted out something like ‘Oh yeah, okay, yeah, I can do that, thank you-” honestly you don’t even remember what you said, because your heart was racing as you realised what was happening.

The security guard just rolled his eyes and strolled back to where he was originally standing. You figured he was probably tired of the reaction he got every time he had to tell Eddie’s latest crush to hang around after the show.

He did it every night, and honestly, he felt bad for every single one of them. It was the same each time: he would tell them, they would freak out, they would spend the night with Eddie, and the next day he would have to awkwardly escort them out of the hotel and tell them not to “take it personally doll, this is just what he does” Because Eddie wouldn’t even wake up early enough the next morning to say goodbye.

He was a dick. But people fucking loved it and loved him.

“You okay doll?” That recognisable voice pulled you out of your daydream and back to reality, although right now you weren’t entirely sure there was much of a difference between your daydreams and what was really happening.

Standing in Eddie Munson’s dressing room wasn’t exactly something you thought you would ever be doing.

After the show ended you stayed where you were, anxiously moving back and forth on your feet and looking around to see what exactly you were supposed to do next. Sure you had been told to ‘hang around’ but what did that mean? Were you supposed to stay where you were, walk over to a security guard and tell them Eddie had asked you to stick around? No, bad idea. They’d think you were a crazy stalker and would most likely escort you out of the venue.

You couldn't see the man who had come over to speak to you. Your eyes continued to scan the room, looking for anyone who seemed to be signalling for you to come over; and just as you were about to admit defeat and leave, that same man caught your eye and nodded his head to the side.

You hoped that was meant for you, or you were about to severely embarrass yourself.

But, everyone else still there seemed to be talking amongst themselves, paying no attention to the man who now stood, looking rather impatient, next to the stage. Gathering all the courage you could muster (which truthfully was not a lot but fuck it) you crossed your arms over your chest and walked over to him.

“Can you get over the barrier or do you need my help?”

“Wha- I’m sorry?” you questioned him with perhaps a little too much confusion in your voice, and based on the look on his face, you already knew he didn’t like you very much. Or maybe he was like this with everyone. He worked for Eddie Munson after all and based on everything you knew about him, you guessed that job probably took a toll on a person. He was notorious for being difficult to work with. He’s lucky he was so fucking hot.

“Are you serious… Jesus Christ okay- can you get over the barrier or do you need me to lift you over?” He started walking over to you, making a rather fair assumption that you were about to ask for some help.

“Oh um yeah, could you…” He was already lifting you over before you could finish your request ‘Thank you, sorry… I just… I’m not normally this nervous” awkwardly laughing as you placed your feet on the ground and adjusted your clothes.

“Yeah, you and everyone else who does this each night” He didn’t say it very loudly, probably not intending for you to actually hear him, but you did. It didn’t upset you, you knew what Eddie was like. But you were slightly embarrassed that his security was seemingly very aware of how your night was about to play out.

He didn’t speak much. Eddie’s security. You had tried to make polite conversation by asking his name, but he was too busy leading you to Eddie’s dressing room. It was cold backstage, and busy. Lots of people moving equipment and talking about the next show, you were pretty sure they worked for the Band. You noticed a few other girls standing around, probably waiting for the other members of the band. You knew that the others didn’t have as much of a reputation as Eddie, but you would have to be pretty naive to assume they weren’t doing almost the same thing. They were just more subtle about it.

“He’s in there” He stopped so abruptly that you were lucky you didn’t walk straight into the back of him. You looked up and saw that the door was closed, but his security was making no move to knock or open it for you. You thanked him and he just gave you a nod and walked away. Okay. Guess you’re knocking on the door yourself. Because that’s not terrifying.

But you were already here, and it would be far more awkward to try and find your way back so you took a deep breath and knocked three times on the door.

“Yeah come in” Eddie’s voice sounded from behind the door.

Oh shit, he’s really in there, you thought to yourself.

With one last shaky breath and shaking your hair out you grabbed the cold door handle and pushed the door open, peering around the door frame before you walked in. You could see Eddie, he was standing next to a high-up table and was clearly busy with something. But you couldn’t see anyone else, which was a small relief.

Pushing the door completely open you stepped into the room. You took your hand off the door, and you were not expecting it to shut as quickly or loudly as it did. The loud bang of the door caused Eddie to turn around slightly too fast to be casual, and his eyes darted straight behind you to the door and then instantly back to your face, looking straight at you. But he quickly regained his composure and let his eyes rake up and down you. Yeah, so Eddie Munson did not do subtle.

You were pretty sure Eddie just said something to you but you were too busy looking at him. No not looking, staring. Apparently, you didn’t do subtle either.

You knew Eddie was pretty. But in person, this closeup? It was ridiculous. He was annoyingly hot. His curly hair fell around his face, bangs resting just above his eyebrows, framing his face perfectly. Your eyes scanned down to his lips, parted slightly, and you couldn’t help but think about what they would feel like on your neck. But his eyes were what grabbed your attention the most, they were almost hypnotising and you definitely stared at them for an uncomfortable amount of time.

“You okay doll?” Eddie repeated his earlier question, not bothering to bite back the smirk that painted his face.

“Yeah, I’m… I’m good!” You did not mean for that to come out as enthusiastically as it did. “I mean um, I’m good thanks, are you? Okay?” If you didn’t get your shit together and start acting less like a fangirl in the next two seconds you were just going to escort yourself out.

Eddie laughed under his breath and leaned back against the wall behind him “Well aren’t you polite” You weren’t entirely sure what to say to that, so you just didn’t say anything. Instead choosing to remain standing by the door.

Eddie lifted his hand that was holding an unlit cigarette and placed it between his lips. And quickly removing it again, for some reason.

Oh god, now you were staring at his lips. And his hands. He had really pretty hands, with lots of rings on his fingers. Did he leave the rings on when he-

“Is staring a normal thing for you or am I just that attractive, sweetheart?”

Fuck. Rockstars were so damn cocky.

“That’s funny” You responded, you had no idea where that confidence suddenly came from, but something about the way he looked at you made you feel safe. “You know what?” You said as you walked over to the lone bar stool next to the table, sitting down and putting your hands under your thighs (you didn’t feel the need to question why there was only one chair in his dressing room).

“You’re already flirting with me and you don’t even know how old I am, what if I’m like… I don't know, seventeen?” You held back a smile as you saw Eddie tense up and then quickly relax again.

“Very clever, but not clever enough doll.” Jesus you wished he’d stop with the nicknames, it really wasn’t helping your whole ‘act casual’ plan. Eddie fiddled with the cigarette in between his fingers as he carried on speaking, “this venue doesn’t let anyone in under the age of twenty-one. So, unless you were using a fake ID I figured it was safe to assume you’re not, in fact, seventeen.”

You looked down at your feet that were dangling just above the floor, you weren’t using a fake ID. But you had in the past, he didn’t need to know that though. Although you couldn’t imagine he was one to judge someone for doing something illegal.

“Okay fine, so I’m not seventeen. You still don’t know how old I am though. You don’t even know my name, Eddie” You shot back, trying to sound serious, but the humour underneath your statement broke through. You also weren’t sure if you were on a first-name basis with him, but what else were you supposed to call him?

Eddie never broke eye contact with you the whole time you were speaking, but you couldn’t quite read what he was thinking.

“You wanna tell me your name then, sweetheart? Or am I supposed to guess that and your age? You wanna make me work for it huh?” Eddie put the cigarette down as he pushed himself off the wall and rested his forearms on the table, getting just that little bit closer to you.

“Normally yeah, I’d make a guy work for my name, but I suppose you’re special, right?” You said quietly, your confidence quickly slipping away the longer he looked at you.

“You’re gonna give me an ego, doll. No one’s ever called me special before, especially someone as pretty as you.” Eddie was a flirt, you knew that. He probably told every girl he has never seen someone as ‘pretty as they were’. But, still, it felt nice. You certainly didn’t believe that no one had ever called him special before. He was Eddie fucking Munson, for crying out loud.

“I’m Y/N.” You told him, purposefully not mentioning your age. You were over twenty-one but Eddie was… older.

He was almost double your age, actually.

“Pretty name. Matches the face.” Eddie flirted. He was insatiable already. “And you’re… how old exactly.” Eddie clearly noticed the look of worry that flashed because he quickly added “I know, I know. You should never ask a lady her age, and all that shit. But uh, help me out here”

“Okay um, I’m twenty-two.” Eddie didn’t react at all like he was waiting for you to say something else, but when you didn’t he just said “So that would make me old enough to be your dad, right?” he laughed.

“Whoa, well I wouldn’t say that. You’re forty. My dad’s in his fifties so…” Why did you just bring up your dad, to the man you were pretty sure you were about to sleep with? Smooth.

Eddie walked around so he was standing in front of you, resting a hand on your knee and using the other to push your hair off your face. “So you’re not uncomfortable, at all? Look, baby, I’m older, you’re still young, I wouldn’t want this to be some power-dynamic situation where you feel pressured, or fuckin’ whatever”

Shit. He wasn’t a complete asshole. At least not right now, he seemed genuinely concerned about you feeling safe. But with his hand on your knee, you weren’t sure how the fuck he expected you to focus.

“‘M not uncomfortable. I wouldn’t have come back here if I was” Eddie tilted his head slightly, looking for more confirmation. “I promise. ‘M not a child, Eddie”

“No, you’re definitely not… a child” You could tell he was trying really hard to keep his eyes on yours and not look other places right now. His hand that moved your hair came to rest on your cheek.

This close to him you could see the stubble on his face, and the freckles that painted his nose and under his eyes. His eyes were even more dangerous this close-up as well. You were pretty sure he would do anything he asked you to right now, and you’d only been with him five minutes.

Was he about to kiss you?

You were pretty sure he was about to kiss you.

You hadn’t even realised it but you had let your legs fall apart so he was now standing as close as he possibly could be, your legs dangling around his. He just kept looking at you, rubbing his thumb on your cheek, whilst his eyes moved back and forth from yours to your lips.

And just as you were about to lean forwards, your lips parting,

He walked away.

What the fuck?

“You smoke?”

“Wha- I’m sorry?”

Eddie had sauntered over to another table in the corner, it was covered in empty food containers, drinks, cigarettes and god knows what else. He grabbed the leather jacket that was thrown haphazardly across the edge of the table and threw it on, he still didn’t say anything as he walked back over to where you were sitting and picked up the cigarette he put down earlier, placing it behind his ear. You hated it, but there was something about him that made it impossible to not watch him. And he knew it, too.

“I said do you smoke?”

“No, s’bad for you”

“Fuck you’re not about to start lecturing me are you?” The immediate exhaustion in his voice was evident, and you wondered how many times a day he was told to stop smoking. “‘Cause I like you so far, don’t turn into an asshole now”

“No f’course not I just- you asked if I smoked, that’s all”

“Okay, good. Good that you aren’t about to fuckin’ lecture me and force me to tell you to fuck off,” Charming, as always. “and good that you don’t smoke. You’re too pretty for that shit.”

Only Eddie Munson could be an asshole and compliment you in the same sentence.

Eddie turned on his heel and headed for the door, as he opened it he turned around, clearly expecting to see you standing right behind him, but you hadn’t even moved from where you were sitting. “You comin'? Or are you just gonna sit there looking lost all night?”

You stood up without saying anything and expected him to just start walking again, instead he just shut the door again, leaning against it and drawled out “you know why I asked for you to hang around right?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a pretty good idea.” You weren’t entirely sure what his deal was. He was both exactly what people said he was but also not like that. He seemed… you weren’t sure. It wasn’t that he was unsure of himself, it definitely wasn’t that. But if you didn’t know he did this every damn night, you’d say he was trying to hold back his nerves.

Or maybe he just did this so much that it was starting to bore him.

“Okay. so?” He wasn’t even looking at you as he said it, instead choosing to stare at the ceiling.

“I don’t know what you’re asking me here, Eddie.” You whispered.

Eddie lowered his gaze to your eyes and stood up straight, no longer leaning against the door. “Can I fuck you, sweetheart? Do you want that?”

Oh fuck.

You nodded, certain that if you tried to articulate yourself you would find that words escaped you.

“Use your words for me, come on doll, need to hear you say it.” Eddie moved towards you a bit and picked up the pendant on the end of your necklace, flipping it over in his fingers as he waited for your answer, never once breaking eye contact.

“Yeah I- I want that. Want you to fuck me.” You blurted out.

A smile broke out on Eddie’s face as he dropped your necklace and turned around, opening the door and walking out “Come on then.”

You didn’t figure you were in a position to ask any questions, so you just followed him. Wherever he was going, he was going to fuck you once you got there, so you were happy either way.

What you didn’t know was that you had utterly confused Eddie.

You see, normally when Eddie invited someone backstage, it took them about two minutes before they were trying to jump his bones, kissing his neck and telling him how hot he was. It was easy like that, but you? You didn’t even try and touch him, which was… respectful. He wasn’t used to that. Not that he didn’t want you to touch him, he did. He had just never had to make the first move before, or straight up ask someone if they wanted him to fuck them.

But you did want him. He could tell. The way you couldn’t stop looking at him, even when he wasn’t even doing anything. The way your thighs rubbed together when he called you ‘doll’ or ‘sweetheart’. Or the way your breath hitched when he asked you if you wanted him to fuck you.

You were also really fucking pretty. He felt his heart race when you first walked into his dressing room. Sure, he had seen you in the audience and thought you were cute, but it was different when you were standing before him. But of course, he pushed all those thoughts away, You were a hookup, that’s all. That’s all he wanted. Maybe out of spite to himself, but he would never let anyone be more than that. And you weren’t going to be any different.

The drive to the hotel was pretty quick. Fifteen minutes at most. You had followed Eddie to a car that was waiting just outside one of the back entrances and he had even gone as far as to open the door for you. What a gentleman, maybe? You still could not figure him out.

Once Eddie was in the car, the driver set off. Neither of you said a word to the other. Instead, you sat in oddly comfortable silence. Letting the city lights and moonlight leak into the car as you were driven through the bustling metropolis.

Occasionally you’d look over at Eddie, and each time you did would find he was already looking at you. The first couple of times you looked away again, staring back out of the window at the starry night sky, looking at the constellations and trying to figure out what the fuck was happening. You were sitting in the back of a car with Eddie Munson. And he was taking you back to his hotel.

The third time you looked over at Eddie he was moving over to sit right next to you. You shifted slightly so you could look at him without having to twist your neck as far. “Hey” you murmured.

“You know normally by now, you would be sitting on my lap, whilst I feel you up under your clothes.”

“Oh, how romantic” You chirped back.

“What can I say, I’m a modern-day Romeo.”

“Can I say something?” You asked him, breaking eye contact, choosing to look down at your legs instead.

“Fucking hell- I- yeah sure.” His voice was laced with annoyance “You know they normally don’t talk this much either.” Eddie shot back at you.

“Okay well I was gonna say, you’re not as much of an asshole as people make you out to be. But then you kinda were an asshole, so, never mind.”

You looked back up at Eddie to see a grin on his face. “What?” You barked out.

Eddie held his hands up in mock surrender and only held back a laugh at your annoyance. “You love it, sweetheart. Or else you wouldn’t have agreed to meet me, let alone get in the car with me. And come back to my damn hotel room.” His voice dipped much lower than you had heard it all night, it was all smug and had an air of ‘I know I’m hot as fuck and so do you’ about it.

You swallowed and tried to look back out the window, anything to avoid looking right at Eddie. But he lifted his hand and turned your head back to him, once you were looking at him he lowered his hand from your cheek and let it rest on your jaw.

“Now, Can I please kiss you?”

Fucking finally.

You barely had time to nod before his soft lips landed on your own. Barely had time to think before the kiss turned heated, Eddie leaning his head one way and you leaning yours the other so you could be as close as possible.

Noses squished against each other and lips moulding together in perfect rhythm. It was like Eddie had lit a fire in you because you couldn’t get close enough to him. You lifted yourself up and swung your leg over Eddie’s lap, he quickly realised what you were doing and moved his hands to grab your hips, helping you settle on top of him, the whole time not once breaking the kiss.

Your hands went straight to Eddie’s hair and he moved from your hips to your back, letting them feel every part of you, until they eventually went to your hair, too. He took your bottom lip between his teeth and pulled back slightly, causing you to let out the smallest whimper.

He went straight back to making out with you, but you could feel his smirk against your mouth. As your lips moved together you started rocking your hips back and forth, slowly and experimentally.

But it was enough to cause Eddie to let out a groan, which only encouraged you even more, doubling down on your efforts to kiss him, pressing your lips deeper and harder against his, and he only returned the same energy, pushing himself forward and pulling you closer to him, letting his tongue run over your bottom lip, begging for entry.

You parted your lips instantly and he wasted no time letting his tongue meet yours. You tried to fight for some dominance in this situation but he quickly took control. His tongue in your mouth and one hand on the back of your neck, the other holding your hip to control your movements.

It was hot. And you were really fucking needy. You had almost forgotten that some poor driver was sitting directly in front of you, behind the separator. Probably trying to get to the hotel as fast as possible. You didn’t blame him.

You and Eddie were making out like if you didn’t you would die, and honestly, that was exactly what you felt like. Everywhere he touched you left you wanting more and more and more. His kiss ebbed and flowed through you, making you roll your hips against him even more.

His lips on yours left you convinced that you had died and gone to heaven. His tongue exploring your mouth made you feel like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. He knew what he was doing. Of course, he did.

Just as your hips grinding against him was getting erratic, the car stopped. And Eddie pulled away from you instantly. Both of you breathing heavily, you more than him, somehow. Did he have more oxygen in his body or something, what the fuck? You had both had your tongues down each other's throat, how did he seem slightly out of breath and you felt like you were fighting for air? Eddie patted his hands against your hips, signalling for you to get up and out of the car.

The door opened and you stepped out as smoothly as you could, which wasn’t easy when you were just being felt up by a rockstar in the back of the car, but you gave it your best shot. The late spring air caressed your face and you felt yourself relax for the first time all night; moving away from the car as Eddie said something to the driver you stepped onto the lawn in front of the hotel and felt the dew-dropped grass crunch under your shoes.

The hotel was big, fancy, you didn’t feel like you belonged there. You couldn’t even count how many stories high it was, the lit-up windows seemingly going for miles, hypnotising you as you stared up in awe.

Truthfully you were more shocked that the band’s management still let them stay in places as lavish as this, they were renowned for being… destructive. You had heard countless stories of Eddie and his bandmates going back to a hotel drunk or high (most of the time it was both) and destroying their rooms, disturbing the other guests and probably other things they had most likely paid the media not to leak.

Some said that Eddie and others had mellowed out recently, with Eddie turning forty. If you asked Eddie he would take offence to that, and say something precocious like he was “just getting started”. Whatever that meant.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by a hand coming to rest on your lower back, and you knew it was Eddie without having to turn around.

“Come on, I stay out here for too long we’ll be fuckin’ swarmed,” He told you.

“You get a lot of people waiting for you at hotels?” You already knew the answer, you had seen the insanity for yourself on TV. Hundreds of fans crowded the hotel hoping for a glance at the band.

“Yeah, somethin�� like that. They just want me to sign something so they can sell it. I don’t do that shit.” Eddie explained as his security hurried you both into the hotel.

His security led you through the lobby and joined you in the elevator. Which you were pretty sure was the most awkward two minutes of your life. You felt like a little kid being dragged home by her parents and they were too annoyed with you to even hold a conversation. Eddie didn’t seem to mind it though, leaning to the side and resting against the elevator wall, closing his eyes in exasperation when his security murmured something along the lines of “I’ll knock on your door at 9 tomorrow.” Eddie didn’t bother to respond or even show that he had heard him.

Soon the elevator stopped and his security stepped off. He turned around and gave you both a curt nod before letting out a sigh and walking off.

The elevator doors had barely shut, and it hadn’t even started moving again before Eddie was on you. Pushing you back against the wall of the elevator, his hands on your waist, a small sigh left your lips at the speed and energy of it. He dipped his head to your neck and let his lips explore everywhere. Your hands flew up to his hair to keep him pressed against you and when he found your sweet spot you couldn’t stop the moan that slipped out, and you felt Eddie’s mouth turn up into a smirk against your neck.

He was mouthing at your neck like he needed it to breathe, alternating between pressing kisses and sucking at your skin, letting his teeth graze your skin. Soothing the love-bitten skin by running his tongue over it once he was satisfied with his work. You already knew you would have to cover those with makeup for the next few days, or maybe you wouldn’t, letting everyone see Eddie’s mark on you, you hadn’t decided yet.

You were so lost in the feeling of Eddie that you hadn’t heard the sighs and whimpers you were letting out, but Eddie couldn’t miss them if he tried, he thought you sounded angelic.

“Fuck doll, barely even touched you and you’re making such pretty noises f’me” Eddie raised his head to look at you, his lips red and swollen. “Gonna let me see what other noises I can get you to make?” You let out a hum of agreement.

Eddie grabbed your face with one ring-clad hand, forcing you to look at him, and not at his lips (in your defence, you hadn’t even realised you were staring at his lips). “I asked you a question sweetheart.”

He leaned forward so his lips were grazing your ear as he spoke, “I said, are you gonna let me pull even more noises out of you? Answer me, come on pretty girl.”

“Yeah, yeah. Please Eddie I-” The elevator doors opened just as Eddie was laughing at the neediness in your voice.

Eddie’s eyes dipped down to your neck again and then back to yours, before grabbing your hand and dragging you behind him, walking at a considerable pace. He was just as desperate as you were, he was just much better at hiding it.

Eddie opened the door to his room and you had about five seconds to see that you were standing in a hallway, leading off to the multiple rooms. You let your eyes wander around the enormous suite before Eddie was turning around and kissed you, lips smashing desperately against each other. It was the type of kiss that took all the air out of your lungs, your hands grabbing blindly at his jacket, clinging to him like he was your lifeline.

You felt Eddie starting to lead you back and quickly your waist hit the small glass table that was next to the door. You reluctantly broke away from the kiss, turning your head to look down at the table that Eddie seemed to want you to sit on.

“It’s glass,” You said simply.

“Baby that table probably cost more than your rent. S’not gonna break.” Eddie let his hands wander underneath your top, drawing small shapes on your back whilst he waited for you to be where he wanted you.

“Telling me it costs more than my rent is not calming my nerves here!” You exclaimed,

“Would you get on the fucking table so I can eat you out”

Well, when you put it like that.

You placed your hands on either side of you on the table and Eddie lifted your waist to help you up. “Thank you” Eddie drew out the syllables as he spoke, and his voice was laced with sarcasm, you hit his shoulder. His lips turned up in a smile and he reconnected his lips to yours. The kiss was slower this time, but still desperate. Eddie stood between your legs and you were quick to wrap them around his waist, pulling him flush against you, letting him roll his hips against your centre and you moaned against his lips. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring you as you let him take control.

Just as you were about to beg for more Eddie pulled away from your lips and dropped to his knees, placing your legs over his shoulders, dusting light kisses along your thighs. And it was only at that moment that your brain caught up with your body. Eddie Munson was between your thighs, and it felt so right. Your heart was racing and you felt goosebumps on your arms, but you felt so comfortable with him.

Oh shit. Do not fall for him.

This was a bad idea. You knew that.

You should go home.

But he was right there. And he was so pretty.

He had asked for you. He had picked you out of the crowd. And now you were in his hotel room.

You were so fucked.

“Hey, where’d you go?” Eddie ran his hand along your outer thigh, his other coming up to push his hair back off his face.

“I- shit, sorry, I’m okay. Promise” You tried to assure him. You really were okay, this was just a lot.

“We can stop. Or slow down. Jus’ tell me what you need me to do.”

You needed him to go back to being an asshole and make it easier to leave in the morning.

“Need you. Need you to touch me.” You breathed. Eddie bit back a smirk and gently pushed your skirt up around your hips, you felt your breathing speed up already, your legs spreading wider as his soft lips kissed lovebites onto your inside thigh, slowly moving closer to where you so desperately wanted him. He pulled back to admire the purple bruises he had sucked onto your skin, leaning forward again to press light kisses over them. “Eddie, please” your voice came out breathy and quiet, you barely even recognised it as your own.

“What’s wrong sweetheart? You wanted me to touch you, yeah? S’what I’m doin” Eddie was teasing you and you knew it, your fingers gripping the side of the table so firmly that your knuckles were going white.

“Need more.” Was all you could tell him, all of your focus being pulled to where his hands were running up and down your thighs again.

“Tell me doll, you gotta tell me where you need me or I can’t help you baby” you could tell how much he was enjoying your reactions just from the tone of his voice, he was trying to be serious and controlling but you could hear the smile in his voice.

You hummed out in protest and tried to move your hips closer to him, but as soon as he saw you trying to move his grip on your thighs got tighter, stopping you from moving.

“You gotta use your words for me angel or I’m gonna get bored here” Eddie slipped into the dominant persona so naturally that you couldn’t help the pang of guilt that rang through your body at the reminder that he did this with lots of people, you weren’t the first and definitely weren’t going to be the last. And you hated how that thought made you feel.

Not wanting Eddie to notice the way your face dropped for a split second you quickly pushed the thought away and felt the desperation build up again.

“Need your mouth, please- just please Eddie”

“Good girl” You felt heat rush to your cheeks at his words, Eddie noticed too, but he didn’t say anything. Not yet, anyway.

“Can you lift your hips for me darlin? Need to get these pretty panties off you, yeah?” You instantly lifted yourself up as much as you could, as Eddie slipped his hands under and pulled your underwear down your legs, throwing them somewhere behind him once they were off.

You could thank all the gods that Eddie didn’t tease you anymore. He pulled you to the edge of the table and your ankles crossed behind his back in an effort to keep him close to you, certain that if he didn’t touch you right there and then you were going to combust.

Eddie ran a finger along your cunt, finally getting to feel how desperate you really were. “Shit sweetheart, you’re fucking soaked, huh?” You whimpered at his words, not trusting yourself enough with words. “Yeah? s’okay I’ve got you, gonna make you feel so good I promise” Eddie dipped his finger against your entrance, gathering your wetness before going straight for your clit, rubbing slow circles right over that sweet spot. Your hips bucked at the small movement and Eddie looked up at you, his brown eyes peeking out from behind his overgrown bangs.

The amount of need he saw in your eyes was almost enough to make him pick you up and carry you to his bed there and then, but he was a firm believer in the more fucked out someone was before he had even fucked them, the better the sex. So, he fought every instinct in his body and dropped his eyes back to your cunt, finally attaching his mouth to you, making you mewl and whimper above him, immediately moving one of your hands to hold his head against your core, your fingers tangling into his curls.

Eddie knew what he was doing, his tongue running along your slit and moving up to suck on your clit, shaking his head whenever he did, causing you to throw your head back, eyes shut so tightly it almost hurt. Every time he felt your thighs tighten around him, or heard your breathing speed up, he pulled off your clit and went back to running his tongue through your cunt, stopping you from getting to where you really needed to be, but still feeling fucking ridiculous.

“Eddie- need your fingers, please” You begged him, you just needed to feel more of him.

He pulled back and smiled up at you “Look at you baby, using your words to tell me what you need.” As he said it he gently ran one finger along your cunt, dipping it inside you slightly in an attempt to work you open, but you were so needy he really didn’t need to.

His words made you clench around nothing and all you could do was mewl out longing pleases and eddies. Reciting his name like a mantra.

He whispered out little shh shh shh’s as he made delicate work of slipping his middle finger inside you. Of course, you had touched yourself before, but Eddie touching you surpassed anything you had ever made yourself feel. Just one of his fingers was enough to stretch you out, but you still needed more.

“More please- please” You couldn’t take your eyes off of Eddie, at how he couldn’t take his eyes off your cunt, where his finger was dipping in and out of you “I got you angel”.

Eddie slipped another finger inside you, it felt uncomfortable for a second and your eyebrows scrunched together as you tried to adjust to his fingers inside you. But that dull ache was soon relieved when Eddie curled his two fingers up inside you, hitting that spot that you had never been able to reach, or anyone else you had slept with had been able to reach. He kept a steady rhythm, not pulling his fingers in and out anymore, instead, he just kept curling his fingers perfectly each time. It had you seeing stars and your breath caught in your throat as you tried to calm yourself down.

“Yeah? That feel good, baby?” Eddie teased, lapping his tongue against your clit again, forcing you to let out the prettiest string of moans he had ever heard. “Fuck doll, anyone ever made you feel like this before, huh?” You were so fucked out already you just shook your head, trying to push his head back down, a silent plea for him to put his mouth back on you.

“No? That’s a fucking crime sweetheart. None of the boys your age are doing it for you huh?” Little whimpers and moans let him know the answer to his question without you having to say anything. The man was a menace, holding a conversation with you whilst he had two fingers curled inside you.

Oh, and you finally had an answer to your earlier question. He did keep his rings on whilst he fingered someone. Which you were ever so grateful for. It was the hottest thing you had ever seen or felt. The metal of his rings rubbing against you had your eyes rolling back into your head.

“Just needed someone who knew what they were doing to touch you, right?” Eddie was definitely a talker. Not that you were complaining, especially since you could barely string two words together right now.

He continued lapping at your clit whilst his fingers worked inside you, your moans getting louder by the minute. If you weren’t so busy with Eddie’s head between your legs you might be worried about getting a noise complaint from the other poor guests who could probably hear you.

You felt that coil in your stomach start to tighten and you let your hand that was resting on Eddie’s head pull oh his hair, eliciting a groan from him, his eyes searching for yours and when he found them screwed closed he used his free hand to grab one of yours and hold it, letting you know he knew you were close.

“Can you let go for me angel, hm? Come on, I got you”

That was all it took for the coil to snap, your whole body felt like it was burning, in the best way. Your grip on Eddie’s hand got tighter as he worked you through it, his fingers slowing down but not stopping, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit. All you could do was moan and whimper above him, letting out a stream of oh gods and don’t stop. Eddie was saying something to you, you could hear his muffled voice but your ears were ringing and everything was too much but you never wanted it to stop.

Until suddenly it all became too much, your legs instinctively trying to close, hand coming down to move Eddie’s away from you. He picked up on your change in demeanour instantly and slowly took his fingers out of you, pressing small kisses to your knee as he let you calm down.

“Fuck, Eddie-” Was all you could say when you’re senses came back to you.

You realised you were still holding Eddie’s hand, but you didn’t make any moves to let go. Neither did he.

“Yeah? Not bad for an old man, huh?” Eddie chirped.

“Fuck off, you’re forty. That’s not that old” You retaliated, watching as Eddie stood up from where he had knelt before you.

“Oh well thank you, sweetheart.” His voice dripped with sarcasm as he pushed your hair away from your face. A gesture that felt oddly romantic given the way you had found yourselves in this situation.

Eddie moved to slot his lips over yours, taking your bottom lip between his and sucking. You melted into the kiss and ran your tongue over his bottom lip, begging for entrance. He let you take control for a few seconds before he slipped his tongue into your mouth and you tasted yourself on him. The whimper that you let out was downright pornographic but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed.

“Fuck sweetheart, wrap your legs around me” Eddie’s voice was raspy and it cut through you like a knife, you didn’t even ask him why before you had your legs tightly holding onto his waist. He wasted no time picking you up from the table and carrying you to the bedroom, taking extra care to lie you gently down on the bed in the middle of the room, crawling to hover above you and attach his lips to your neck, sucking right onto your pulse point, causing a desperate moan to leave you.

Your legs tightened around him and he ground his hips down into you, his desperation was evident even though he was trying hopelessly to seem calm and collected. But with you lying underneath him that seemed to be impossible. With his head buried in your neck as he desperately worked to leave you covered in as many marks as possible, you tried to shift his weight off you so you could flip yourselves over. But he just tightened his grip on your waist, and hand that he still hadn’t let go off. Keeping you firmly pinned to the mattress.

“Eddie, I- oh fuck” he ground his hips down against you as you began speaking, stealing the breath from your lungs. “Eddie, do you not want me to…” Your confidence suddenly slipped again, you wanted to offer to suck his dick. But you had only given head a couple of times, each time being to a guy your age who was probably just grateful to have a girl on her knees in front of him. Eddie was older, and a world-famous rockstar. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself. But you really wanted to taste him.

“What is it doll?” Eddie pushed as he dusted light kisses across your jaw, rubbing circles over the slip of skin that was exposed where your t-shirt had ridden up.

“Can I- can I suck your dick?” Your voice was small and Eddie couldn’t tell if you were just nervous or if you didn’t actually want to.

“You don’t have to sweetheart, don’t worry about it.” Either way, he wasn’t going to let you do something unless he was absolutely positive that you really wanted to. He dipped back down and pulled you into a long, deep kiss. Your hands flew to the back of his neck as you kissed him back, all tongue and teeth, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“I want to though” You insisted, barely moving your lips off of Eddie’s. Eddie’s long hair fell around you both, cutting you off from being able to see anything other than his face as he leaned over you.

Eddie still wasn’t sure, he noticed the way your hands that you had on the back of his neck had moved so you could mess with your fingers. He didn’t know you well enough to know if that was a nervous habit of yours, but it was one of his, so he took a safe guess that you were probably more nervous than you were letting on.

“S’okay doll. Honestly, if I get your mouth on me this’ll be over a lot quicker than either of us want.” He moved to rest all his waist on one hand, the other moving to push your t-shirt up, he looked up at you to make sure that was okay and when you nodded with way too much enthusiasm, he let out a quiet laugh and lifted your t-shit off you, lowering himself to place kisses down your chest and stomach.

Feeling his lips on your skin sent a bolt of electricity shooting through your body and suddenly all you needed was to feel him inside you. You whimpered and grabbed the back of the top he was still wearing, you hadn’t even noticed he had already taken off his leather jacket. Eddie soon realised what you wanted, sitting back on his haunches to pull his top over his head.

Your eyes dropped down to stare at Eddie, his pale body covered in tattoos, across his chest and arms. Your hand impulsively reaching out to trace over them. Eddie smiled and picked up your other arm, dotting little kisses up and down it. You lowered your hand that had been tracing over his tattoos and began to undo his belt, frustration quickly building as you couldn’t get it undone.

Eddie noticed how your brows knitted together and felt a pang of adoration in his chest at how sweet you looked lying below him. He took both of your hands in his as he guided your hands to help you undo his belt, breathing out a small “good girl” as you let his fingers guide yours.

Once you had both undone it Eddie reluctantly pulled away from you and stood up to push his jeans and underwear off, grabbing a condom from the bedside table. You pushed your skirt off and when you looked back up at Eddie your gaze dropped down and your breath hitched in your throat. He was… big. You felt your whole body tense up as you realised you had never been with someone that big before. Two of his fingers alone were enough to feel a lingering pressure in your stomach.

Eddie leaned back down over you and pressed a gentle kiss on your lips, his hand caressing the apple of your cheek as you widened your legs more and he settled between them comfortably.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Eddie whispered as he moved to adjust your legs around him and grab a pillow from the bed. “Can you lift your hips-” You moved slightly so Eddie could place the pillow below you. “Thank you, baby” He praised you as you followed his instructions instantly.

“D’you still want this?” Eddie asked suddenly, his voice dropping back to his normal tone, rather than the more controlling, deeper one he had been speaking with before. You nodded your head quickly and muttered out a little “please” as he carefully watched your face.

Your enthusiasm seemed to please him enough to carry on, and he kissed you once more before moving his hand down to guide himself into you. He ran his cock through your folds and groaned at the wetness he found there “Shit doll, you need it bad huh?” You moaned out as the head of his cock hit your bundle of nerves, bucking your hips up and digging your fingers into the bed. He shushed you and pushed your hips back down “I really gotta teach you some patience angel.” He told you as he ground his hips forward, grinding over your dripping cunt but not pushing in.

“Just so desperate for someone to finally fuck you how you need aren’t you?” Your head lolled to the side as he kept grinding into you, hitting your clit each time. “Uh uh, eyes on me sweetheart.”

You used all the energy you could muster to lift your head back to a position where you could look right at Eddie. “There she is, I’m not even inside you yet and you look fucked out, this enough for you?” Eddie cooed. “Don’t even need my cock inside you, do you?” The desperate cry that came from the back of your throat at his words almost made Eddie feel bad, but you sounded so pretty. “No no, please- fuck please.” Your legs tightened around his waist in protest to what he just said, Eddie bit back a smirk and let out a “yeah?” in fake pity.

“Need you inside me fuck- just please Eddie I–” Your cries were getting more desperate by the second and Eddie shushed you as he lined himself up at your entrance, pressing a light kiss to your neck to soothe you. “Okay angel, I hear you. Gonna make you feel so good, I promise.”

Eddie began to push inside of you, but only got so far before you let out a sound that sounded far too close to discomfort for him. He stopped moving and looked up to see your eyes closed tightly. “Hey, hey, look at me, come on.” You had never heard his voice that soft before, but you did what he asked, looking at him.

“You okay?” He asked, concern laced in his voice.

“M’okay, you’re just… bigger than I’m used to” A cocky grin spread across Eddie’s voice at your words and you gently pushed on his shoulder. His ego didn’t need to be any bigger than it already was.

“You want me to stop? I can eat you out again if you want?” He sounded so sincere that when you went to open your mouth to respond you couldn’t think of anything, so caught off guard by ‘asshole rockstar eddie’ being the exact opposite of what everyone knew him as.

“Sweetheart? You with me?” He held your face in his hand and rubbed his thumb along your jaw.

“Yeah um– no just keep going, please, I just needed a second to get used to it” You told him, a small laugh from you making him relax again. He attached his lips to yours and kissed you dizzy. A deep kiss that had you whimpering softly against his lips and distracted you from the pressure of Eddie pushing into you again.

“Fuck you’re so tight doll” Eddie said against your lips. The pressure built up again and you held onto his shoulder, digging your nails into the skin there.

“You’ve gotta relax for me angel, okay? Deep breaths, yeah?” Eddie whispered against your jaw, desperately trying to hold himself back from slamming into you, but you felt so good already.

You nodded and took a deep breath, but it was Eddie attaching his mouth back onto the sweet spot on your neck and sucking that relaxed you the most. The need that overtook you let Eddie finally bottom out, both of you letting out filthy moans at the feeling. “Fuck good girl, there you go, feel so fucking good” Eddie praised you, not moving yet, giving you time to adjust to him inside you. But you were sure that if he didn’t move soon you were going to cry.

“Eddie please move, I’m okay– Need you to fuck me” You begged. He pulled up from where he was tracing kisses down your throat, readjusting himself to rest on his forearms either side of your head.

Eddie pulled his hips and back and pushed all the way back in, your legs secured around his waist, keeping him as close to you as possible. The way he grinded his hips into you had you seeing stars, soft whimpers falling from your lips every time he pressed into you harder and deeper.

At one particular thrust you let out the the most pornographic moan you had ever heard yourself make, making Eddie fuck you harder, making sure to hit that spot deep inside of you that no one else had ever reached before. Your cunt clenched around him at the sensation and he let out a deep groan from the back of his throat, his hips faltering for a second before he pushed back into you even harder than before. “Fucking Jesus– shit y/n you can’t do that to me” he moaned out “Gonna make me come so fuckin’ fast, you’re so tight already oh my god– .” He was just talking to distract himself from his impending orgasm at this point, determined to make you come before him.

You and Eddie found a perfect rhythm after a while, your hips rolling against his as he kept hitting that sweet spot inside you. Your eyes closed and Eddie wasn’t having any of it, repeatedly telling you to look at him. But no matter how many times he said it your eyes would inevitably close again, too overcome with pleasure to focus on anything else.

Eddie brought his hand to your neck and simply rested it there, giving you the freedom to tell him to stop or move it if you didn’t like it. But when your hand moved to rest over his and you looked up at him with fucked-out eyes, he tightened his hold on your neck and you cried out. “Yeah? You like that, you just need someone to be a little rough with you huh?” Eddie teased, “It’s okay, just wanna be treated like a whore sometimes is that right? God you’re so fucking good for me doll”. His hand kept a firm hold across your throat, making sure to squeeze in the correct places so he didn’t cut off your air supply completely, but gave you that feeling of euphoria you craved.

It was all too much, but not enough at the same time. Your arousal covering your cunt and things, the noises were filthy but it felt so good that you weren’t embarrassed by how you could hear how wet you were each time Eddie drove his cock into you. Your thighs were numb around Eddie’s waist, your hips burning as you felt that coil tightening in your stomach again. His hand around your throat pinning you to the bed was your last straw, you felt tears prickling at the corner of your eyes from how good you felt.

“Fuck Eddie– I’m gonna-” You tried to tell him, his grip on your neck loosening slightly, making it easier for you to speak.

“You’re gonna come again angel?” You nodded, whimpers and moans falling from your lips. Eddie moved his hand from around your neck, moving it between your two bodies until he placed two fingers over your clit, rubbing fast circles over it.

Your back arched off the bed and your mouth hung open in a silent scream. “There you go, good fucking girl.” Eddie exclaimed, watching you in adoration as you came undone beneath him for the second time that night.

You didn’t even know how long your orgasm lasted, but Eddie worked you through it until you came back around. Looking up at him above you, damp hair clinging to his forehead, kiss-bitten lips parted as he let out quiet moans at the feel of your cunt around him, you could see how desperate he was to come.

“God, can you turn over for me doll” Eddie asked, but he was already pulling out of you and gripping your hips to put you in the position he wanted you. Your legs felt like they were going to give out any minute, but you didn’t care. You moved onto your front and Eddie pulled your hips back against him as your back arched up, burying your face into the pillow in front of you. Eddie slipped back in and you practically screamed out at the overstimulation, but you never wanted him to stop.

“God that’s it– gonna come soon angel, doing so well for me.” Eddie’s voice came out raspy and his voice broke at the end. You only pushed your hips back into him harder.

You felt Eddie still inside of you as he came hard and fast, not bothering to hold back the tidal wave of moans and groans that left his lips as his orgasm washed over him. His hands holding your hips so tightly you wouldn't be surprised if there were bruises there in the morning.

He took a minute to compose himself before he pulled out of you, you whimpered at the feeling and he whispered comforting sh-sh-sh’s and apologised repeatedly. You managed to gather enough energy to turn yourself back over. Eddie walked back over to the bed, his boxers already back on. He knelt on the end of the bed and pulled some tissues from the table nearby. “Open your legs for me doll” You did as he asked, letting out little gasps as he cleaned you up, still sensitive from everything that had just happened. “You want a top to sleep in? Or…” Eddie asked, slightly more abrupt than you had been expecting, but you figured it was just the comedown after sex.

“Yeah please” you answered quietly, reaching out to grab one of his tops he had already gone to get for you. You threw it, and your underwear, back on. Not entirely sure of what happened now, but when Eddie simply turned off the lamps around the room and climbed into bed you followed his lead and he only reached over to pull you across him as he fell asleep.

There weren’t any more words exchanged between the two of you as you finally drifted off to sleep, limbs tangled together.

You woke up to the morning sun beating through the windows. The spring sun sitting high in the sky, lighting the room up in a near-magical way. You awoke in almost the same position you had fallen asleep in, except now you were facing away from Eddie, instead of being buried in his still bare chest.

You yawned quietly and stretched your arm above you, careful not to wake Eddie. This was all still so surreal. Your eyes scanned the room you had woken up in, being able to take in your surroundings properly for the first time.

Your gaze was drawn to the living room that was directly across from the bedroom, there were no doors leading to the two rooms, instead being replaced instead by overly-sized archways which allowed you to see right through the bedroom to the living room. The rooms were only separated by the wide hallway.

The living room was ginormous, and one wall was simply a massive window, overlooking the city skyline, it was beautiful, you couldn't deny that. The couch sat in the middle of the room with a glass coffee table in front of it, decorated with magazines and a vase of flowers. You took a wild guess that those were always there, you didn’t imagine Eddie was requesting for flowers to be put in his room.

A tv sat on the other side of the room, with various other decorative pieces scattered around, the most eye-catching was the massive rug that covered most of the floor. The dim lights illuminated the elegance of the place, and you couldn’t help but feel this place was the opposite of Eddie.

You felt your stomach drop at the realisation that you still didn’t understand Eddie. He had been perfect last night, it felt like something out of a romance novel where the guy is the perfect man, attentive and caring. But he wasn’t like that at the start of the night, and by the end of the night he didn’t say another word to you.

Before you could overthink it anymore a loud knock rang through the suite. You remembered Eddie’s security saying he would come over in the morning, but Eddie wasn’t stirring. You considered shaking him awake, but just as you were about to turn over and wake him another knock came from the door. Louder this time, followed by a deep voice calling out Eddie’s name, saying something like “Get your ass up and out of bed or I swear to god–”

That seemed to cut through even Eddie’s deepest sleep and you felt the bed dip as Eddie begrudgingly got up and padded over to open the door before it was knocked down. You didn’t think he had noticed you were awake too, so you didn’t move, instead staying in bed and listening to the conversation happening down the hall.

“Ah! He’s still alive, that’s always good to know, makes my job easier.” you heard the sarcastic remarks of Eddie’s security, hearing humor in his voice for the first time.

“Do you like pissing me off this early in the morning, John? Or is it a happy accident?” Eddie retaliated, sounding much too like a sullen teenager for a forty year old man.

“Happy accident. Is the young lady awake or do you want me to come back?” John asked, peering behind Eddie trying to catch a glimpse of you. He couldn’t of course, you still hadn’t moved from the bed.

“No she’s uh– asleep.” Eddie’s voice got quieter as he said something else to John. So quiet you didn’t hear the rest of the conversation, just the door shutting about a minute later, and Eddie’s footsteps as he made his way back to the bedroom.

Your eyes met as he walked in and you sat up on the edge of the bed, ankles crossed as you placed your hands behind you, leaning back. You saw Eddie carrying the clothes that had been left in the hallway the night before, placing them down on the bed and nodding his head in acknowledgment.

“He’s like a grumpy dad or something” you tried to joke, letting out a feeble attempt at a laugh. Not that he was even old enough to be Eddie’s dad, in fact he was probably only a couple years older than him.

“Uh-huh.” Was all Eddie said, but you thought you saw him tense up. So, you took your second wild guess of the morning that maybe you shouldn’t bring up parents with Eddie, seemingly a sore subject for him.

That was something else about Eddie. He had been in the public eye for nearly fifteen years now, and yet no one knew anything about his life before. Literally, nothing. You figured that had to be deliberate, there was no way no one had found out anything about him, or what his life was like before, but if they had, they had probably been paid off to keep their mouths shut. You couldn’t imagine why, almost every rockstar had a dodgy past, scandals and an arrest record were commonplace. They didn’t care about any of that, but Eddie was different.

Eddie’s morning voice cut through your thoughts. “John will uh, be back in like two minutes. So, you can get dressed if you want.”

Oh.

You watched Eddie as he threw on a pair of jeans and a top, not bothering to look at you as he all but told you to leave. “He’s already called a cab for you so– yeah.” You wanted to say something, ask him something, anything. But you didn’t know what.

This was what he did. You had known this going into it.

Instead you threw on your clothes from the day before, barely having time to put your shoes on before there was a knock on the door. Your head flew up to see Eddie was already staring at you as he leant against the archway to the living room. He quickly turned away as your eyes met and he pushed himself off the wall to walk over and open the door. You followed far behind, standing halfway down the hallway, holding back tears you could feel forming. You were so fucking stupid.

As soon as the door opened John saw you stood there. You swear you saw something like pity flash in his eyes before he went back to his usual, somewhat angry, demeanor. “I’m gonna go see if the other guys are up yet, need to talk to them about some changes for tonights show.” Eddie’s voice was quiet but you could hear it all the same. John just nodded and moved to the side to let Eddie past.

You thought he would say goodbye to you.

Say something before he left.

He didn’t.

He left you standing in his hotel room, his security guard waiting to walk you to the cab waiting for you outside. Your stomach dropped at the realisation that you weren’t any different to the others. That he probably spoke to everyone the way he had spoken to you, looked at them the way he looked at you.

It would have killed you to realise that he didn’t speak to everyone like that, and he certainly didn’t look at everyone the same way he looked at you. And he knew that, and it scared the shit out of him.

So he left.

authors note my loves! this took me far too long to write so i hope you enjoyed it, at least a little bit <3 i apologise for any spelling or grammar mistakes but i'm posting this at 2am so it is what it is. also, this is still only my second ever fic, so please go easy on me, i'm way too sensitive <3 okay bye love you

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