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kithtaehyung · 6 months

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broken, pt. 1 (3tan) | myg

title: broken (pt. 1) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series:masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: chilling conversations prolong things even further… until everything goes to hell. note: this is only one half of what was supposed to be a whole chapter! broken, pt. 2 will come out after i've had time to make it something i'm proud of. trying to rush everything out didn't do any favors, so hilariously and ironically, broken is broken up into two hahaha. warnings: language, angst, tension, yoongi’s pov is longgg, alcohol consumption, tobacco mentions, bro🥲, yoongi in the studio😩, the studio boys make another appearance👀, …someone else makes their first appearance👀👀, scuffles, tense situations, did i say angst?, water bottles get their own warning, long hair yoongi, basketball yoongi🫠, crying, bro a ha ha, jimin has tats and he’s not afraid to show them, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, honestly he is on another level of warning here don’t perceive me💀, the fluff is fluffing here like what, backstory we’ve been waiting for😗, yoongi on the phone, hand holding :’)), kissing :’)), oh god the kissing❤️‍🩹, there’s just a lot in both parts i'm sorry y'all playlist: broken (lp) drop date: dec 3rd, 2023, 4:00pm est word count: ...19.1k 🚶‍♀️

Words abandon you.

They stand far from your form, pitying observers of your decaying state in front of the man you’ve been lying to. At once, you feel completely alone, not even Yoongi’s lingering presence helping when those eyes are piercing through time and space. Everything you’ve experienced over the past two years slings across your vision, from the first time you left your house in the pouring rain to get to Yoongi’s, to the car ride back you just took with his kiss still on your lips.

All of those moments shattering into dust around your heels.

Your feet make lines in them when you move to close the front door, something leaving your mouth before you can judge if it makes sense, “About what?”

Zero sense. Absolute zero sense. Which your brother has absolute zero patience for. The drone in his question hits you like a punch to the gut, “Really.”

“Just out late, is all,” you grumble, trying your best to not acknowledge an atmosphere so tense it’s almost crowded. “Jimin had another party, remember?”

“Course I do.”

Huh? Wait. Why does he sound so—

“I was there.”

Dread launches up your veins, rocketing right to your heart in the middle of a pulse. He was there? You saw his car when Yoongi pulled up close to the house. He was there? When the fuck did he arrive? Oh, fuck, if he got there early enough… did he see you… and Yoongi…

No. There’s no way. Because one, Yoongi parked far down and around the corner. He made sure not to be close just in case you two could be spotted.

With a thought you really cannot afford right now, you also assume he stayed that distance just so that he could pin you against his car. Fucking hell, focus! Upping the strength of your resolve to match cardboard, you lamely stall in your hunt for clarification, “You were?”

“I was.”

The watch on his wrist glints in its twist. When aggravated veins stare back at you, it’s obvious your brother is on the edge. Because he is deathly calm. “So where’d you go?”

You blink, not having expelled a single breath since you stepped foot inside.

Does he not know? Or does he know and he’s just waiting for you to finally spill? With all the hope in the universe, you yearn for it to be the first one. Because you cannot deal with a fallout right now. Not right after what happened with Yoongi.

It’s just not the right time.

“Yuri’s,” you blurt, finally kicking into gear and strategizing how you’re gonna finesse this. “She came and got me.”

Your sibling just stands there, eyes a solid beam before he sighs at clasped wrists.

Here it comes. He’s gonna ask why you didn’t say anything. Like he always does because for some reason you’re still not a true adult to him and he has to keep tabs on you at all times and you can’t just sneak around with his best friend in peace—

“K.” Your eyes shake once. “Just tell me next time.”

And just like that, your brother vacates the foyer, dark dress shoes clacking as he retreats back into his room. Leaving you standing in silence.

All the words around you just as speechless.

Just like that, you’re gone again.

After watching you leave and wishing you didn’t have to, Yoongi shuts his door to rest ponderous thoughts on worn wood. Eyes closed and a storm on his mind’s horizon.

Just a little longer. He hopes you’ll understand. This is just something he needs. More than anything else.

Exhausted, he peels himself from the door, meandering through the bog of his living room. Trudge, trudge, trudge to the dining table, skirting fingers along the edge and noting that it feels different than before.

At least something in his apartment has changed for the better.

Who would’ve thought that table would witness both an end and a beginning. That it would see the worst and best of him. If it was ever called to stand, there’s no doubt that it could recite all his failures and shortcomings. But he hopes that it would also attest to how much he’s fucking tried.

As much as Yoongi wants to throw it out, he hasn’t. Because despite being withered to hell, all it needed to recover was the new company of a familiar face.

And a little bit of summer rain.

It watches as his thoughts move on, and soaks in the blues and pinks of sunrise as he crosses into the bedroom. At the feel of your lingering presence, Yoongi gnaws on his lip.

What the fuck does he do now? The moment you leave, he wants nothing more than to have you back in his bed. It’s the one fact that he has come to fully acknowledge. Because there are many times you’ve caught him slipping. But when you’re lost to your dreams? Visibly at peace and safe under his sheets? That’s when he can’t even think straight.

How your serenity throws him into disarray, Yoongi has no fucking clue.

But he can’t afford these feelings right now. Because how can he want you close while being the reason for this distance? Make it make sense. Don’t be a fucking hypocrite. Tsking, Yoongi once again accepts the consequences, heading to his bathroom before going back the fuck to sleep.

Lies. Who is he kidding? There’s no way his rest will be the same without you. Especially since he doesn’t know when he’ll get to see you next.

There is a way to remedy that. To put an end to your time apart. But Yoongi’s been so in his fucking head that it’s chaining him down and pulling taut. No matter how much he struggles, he can’t break free, and it’s driving him to the brink.

But last night? With you? Half moons mar his palms as he stands. Staring. Branding that whole memory into his heart.

After three months of questioning his existence.

All it took was your soft hums to give him a reason.

And you won’t ever know how much that meant to him. Not until Yoongi finally decides to tell you. Which will most likely be never. Maybe that’s why this time tears at his chest more than all the others. Maybe that’s why he stood in his doorway longer than usual. Maybe that’s why he can’t quite carry the weight in his chest.

Dumping himself on dark mountains—creations of his and your design—Yoongi buries his face in those valleys. Inhales those aromas like some hit he can live off of for however many days left he needs.

Desperately grasping for a fading world where only you two exist. Drifting. Dreaming. Disarmed by a vibration on his nightstand.

The fuck.

Who is texting him this early. There are only a few people he has notifications on for wait it’s probably you saying you’re home.

Peeling himself off the sheets with a groan, Yoongi simply shifts his upper body to reach for his phone, squinty-eyed as he checks his screen.

And he doesn’t see your name.

Dumbass: 1 New Message

But your brother’s.

What the hell does he—

Dumbass [07:30]: We need to talk.

…Shit.

Yoongi grips his phone in panic, ice water streaming through his veins and mind set ablaze with potential scenarios.

He’s awake. You went home. And he’s awake. Fuck, did anything happen? Did you say anything? What are the chances this text means he found everything out?

Shit.

Does Yoongi answer now? Or does he sleep and pretend that this is just a text and isn’t a problem at all? Think. Your brother may not even be referencing you, or him. Right? It could be something completely different.

Why can’t he fucking move?

Every regret Yoongi’s kept at bay floods his brain, crashing into assumptions of your mental state and creating a massive whirlpool of dread. Just answer. Don’t answer. Just answer. Don’t fucking answer. Suddenly, another alert lights his home screen and it’s a call oh fuck—wait… It’s Jungkook?

Why not. Sure. What’s one more issue.

Picking up, Yoongi runs hard fingers through his hair as he answers.

“Hey, you coming?”

“Huh?”

“We have that session in thirty.”

The what. The session? Oh, fuck. The session. Yoongi completely forgot they had a recording booked today because they were so hyped last night to get a date for the release party shit. Vacating his bed, Yoongi answers with a low, “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Yeah, don’t be late. It’s those guys from before.”

Fuck, it’s that one. The dudes that stopped by the studio just as things were wrapping up, shocking everyone when they scheduled some time. Highly successful musicians and performers booking something with a no name studio? Things are rolling in the right direction and coming along fast.

But as things go. If they don’t take this shit seriously, everything can crash just as quickly.

“Heading out,” Yoongi finally says as he yanks a hoodie from his closet, and a loud vibration against his ear makes him flinch.

Dumbass [7:40]: Heading over

Fuck!

“You okay?”

“Shit, yeah.” Yoongi grips soft material before his phone hits his desk with a thump. Hastily dressing, he grunts, “Maybe. Might be like two minutes late.”

“Nah, come now.”

He’s heading over? Your brother? If that’s the case, there’s no way he doesn’t know.

Fuck, relax. Don’t overthink. If anything, there wouldn’t have even been a heads-up. Yoongi figures he��d just find out as soon as he’s thrown against a wall. Or the ground. Or right onto his coffee table that this very guy helped pick out. Shit, he needs to know but he doesn’t wanna find out.

But nevermind him. Are you okay? Swiping his device, Yoongi quickly types a text before fast-walking out of his room, going on autopilot when he assures into his receiver, “I’ll get there.”

Yoongi [7:42]: Going to the studio

“On time? You better!”

Goddamn, he’s juggling too much right now.

As Yoongi breaks into the dining room, he hears a rustling on the line before other voices jut through the speaker. Sounds like Hobi and Joon are already there, and the next thing said further spikes his stress level another peak,

“We’re already cutting it close with the prep.”

Fucking hell, the prep. The mics, the tracks, the setup. They forgot to do all of it. Something inside of him starts snarling and almost pounces through the phone, “Fuck, we should’ve been ready already.”

“Shit, I know.”

“We can’t keep doing this.”

“Dude, relax, I get it.”

“Do you? Cus this is… Fuck.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll get it done but it’s gonna be tight. Hey, where’s the… Damn it, what’s it called?”

Frustrated and rummaging through his pantry, Yoongi knows he sure as hell didn’t think about anything else as soon as he heard you crying on the line. If he had remembered while leaving the studio, he could’ve spared a brain cell to rush everyone back in. “The what.”

“The… The overhead mic for the drums.”

Of course, he’d repeat every decision he made last night. Over, and over, and over again. But any of them should’ve remembered this step before leaving, which pisses him off. The studio’s lack of experience is showing and it’s making him nervous.

And Yoongi still doesn’t know what’s going on with his best friend.

“We need two overheads for drums,” he corrects while swiping a water bottle from the counter. And he’s about to rattle off where they are when he feels another long buzz.

Dumbass: Incoming Call

Of fucking course.

Mind whirring so hard he can feel steam, Yoongi quickly recalls where the mics are, “They’re somewhere in the back by the amps, but I gotta take this so I’ll see y’all there.”

“Wait, where are the—”

Nope. Kook’s just gonna have to figure out whatever he’s asking on his own. Switching calls, Yoongi answers while opening his door, hastily putting out the food and water he grabbed from the kitchen.

“Hey.” Fuck, is his voice shaking? What the hell is he gonna be faced with in the next few seconds? Can he freeze time and rewind and keep last night on repeat? “I’m about to head out.”

“Don’t leave yet, I’m coming.”

“No, just”—Yoongi dashes back inside before grabbing his wallet and keys from the bar—“You good? I can’t be late.”

“Don’t lie. Y’all are done, right?”

Don’t lie. Yoongi feels like hurling.

“We got another project,” he huffs as he meets sunrise again, blazing a trail through his corridor and rounding the corner to his car. “A band’s coming in for a session.”

“Shit.”

There’s a pause on the line. And it’s the first bit of silence Yoongi’s had since he got the first bone-chilling text. Is his secret safe? Are you okay? Should he work extra late and run from a problem yet again? He’s very good at that. Running. If there was a medal for distance ran from issues, he’d be on the podium for both gold and silver.

“Okay, fine.”

Relief is temporary. This could just be him biding his time in order to figure out what to do. Or maybe he truly doesn’t know what’s going on and Yoongi has a bit more uninterrupted time with you.

Delusion is a great place to stay.

In any case, his friend’s behavior is alarming. What’s he doing up this early? And why is he wanting to swing by so bad if not to slice him into tiny pieces? Nerves slow on the downslope, Yoongi shuts his car door and lends his ear, “But serious, are you okay?”

“I just… Tch. I can’t even say it.”

He lets his friend go through a series of small sounds on the line, pulling out of the lot and hitting the road with tire squeaks. “What’s up,” he finally pushes, looking sideways and remembering the car ride home.

There was no way Yoongi was gonna say no to you. He didn’t in this universe, and he’d bet his whole life he doesn’t in any other one, either. Not when your wings looked like you hadn’t used them in months.

Pained, Yoongi hopes you’re completely fine and sleeping. Tucked away in a bed that captured part of his heart, visiting him in your dreams so that some version of him can be at your side.

“Everything, Yoong.”

But, as it so starkly turns out, he has to deal with reality. And with the fact that you’re just as far away as you were before last night. Maybe even further out of reach.

So, so far away.

“There’s a ton of shit, but. Fuck. Guess we’ll have to wait.”

Right now, deal with the studio prep and get through the session that will probably take awhile. After that, meet up with your brother and hope to god he doesn’t know. “K.”

“Just lemme know when you get back.”

Then, when all of that is done, Yoongi will be alone. Staring into the night and trying his hardest not to give up on himself again. “Yeah, I will.”

“No running.”

“K.”

When the call ends, Yoongi lets out the harshest breath he’s ever let out in his life. Hoping you went right to sleep without dealing with any of that.

“How did that sound?”

Looking into the recording room, Yoongi raises a thumbs up as Hoseok clicks back to the beginning of the track. At their side, Namjoon hits a button on the console before speaking into a microphone, “Y’all wanna come hear it?”

“We can move on. Wanna get the doubling done.”

Huh? They’re gonna move onto vocal doubling already? With a few blinks, Yoongi think it’d be better if they—

“Okay!” Jungkook agrees from the couch, cutting out any other thoughts. “If any of you need adjustments, let us know.”

“Yeah, actually, can one of you come switch this out?”

Joon throws a suggestion over his shoulder, but Yoongi is already heading for the booth before his name is even mentioned.

Get everything done smooth. Stay disciplined. Be professional, goddamn it.

Entering the soundproofed room will always make him want to occupy the mic instead. That feeling hasn’t gone away, and there have been countless nights where he’s spent time just sitting in this very space, visualizing what it would be like to work on this side of the glass someday. Deep down, Yoongi knows he could be somebody. But imposter syndrome runs deep.

Avoiding cables strewn about the room, he offers his hands without a word, taking a guitar from the lead singer and making his leave—

“Hey.” He turns. “You’re good.”

What? Where the hell did that come from? Did he even hear this guy right or was he just daydreaming again? Yoongi’s so thrown he can only stare with question marks for eyes.

Amused, the singer simply points to the side of his beaming countenance. “You have an ear.”

Huh. How the hell can this dude tell? All Yoongi’s done is indicate if a recording take was good or not, and given a few minuscule suggestions to the keyboardist and guitarist—instruments he’s well-versed in.

Yet again, he’s so in his head that the man outright laughs, “Relax! You can talk to us like normal, you know. None of us care about etiquette shit.”

“Shit, my bad,” Yoongi finally responds, instrument in his hands proving a little lighter. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” Swishing long bangs to the side, the performer rests a hand on his hip. “We’re open to anything. We’d just tell you if your opinion sucks.”

Eyes creasing with his lips, Yoongi puffs out a laugh.

“Kidding. Only a little.”

Even though these people are world-renowned, they’re the first humble group to run through the studio. Everyone else has been either cocky, standoffish, or super opinionated, which made for unproductive hours.

Yoongi likes this change of pace. His shoulders start to feel composed, less scrunched than they had been since you left his place this morning. Comforted, he looks down at the guitar in his fingers.

Choosing not to say what he wants to.

Should he? Nah. These guys know what they’re doing. Despite the nice offer to speak up, it’s not his place. Far from it.

…But what would you tell him to do? What would you be proud of?

Committed to his answer, Yoongi grips the neck and decides without another thought,

“Do the chorus again.”

The whole studio stills. But all he’s looking at is the man in front of him, shaking his head when they ask, “Same way?”

“Uhm. No.” As he hands the guitar back, Yoongi wordlessly checks if he can see the sheet music. When given the go-ahead, he scans the lines before pointing out a passage to note,

“Mm. Here. Vocals are fine as is, but. Ride the build-up quicker and hit the next chord after a bit longer.” When he stops, he has to fight to ignore the eyes on him. There’s no doubt that his extended time in the recording room is being questioned, and his hand movements probably make him look stupid. “It’ll keep in time but hit harder.”

Done. He said it.

And the response that follows puts complete silence to shame.

Instantly self-conscious, Yoongi swears he can hear Hobi’s pants shift in the control room through two closed doors shit he took it too far. Fuck, if these guys walk out now the studio is done for and he’ll be the only reason why—

“Well, goddamn. Let’s try that then.”

Huh. They’re gonna take that?

As he steps away, Yoongi feels slightly awkward doused in attention. Yeah, expressions seem like looks of approval, but they could just be polite.

The man hums the chorus with Yoongi’s notes in mind, and his eyebrows tick a bit before he addresses the others in the room, “You heard him?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Yeah, we can try that.”

“Why didn’t you think of that, Woosung?”

Yoongi can’t keep his amusement under wraps as the singer laughs, addressing his keyboardist with a grin, “Damn, not even Sammy? Straight to Woosung, huh.”

“Sammy would’ve thought of it.”

Another bout of mirth spreads joy around the recording booth, and Yoongi shares a look with the singer before they both nod.

“Let’s see how it sounds.”

“K.”

Proud and adrenaline-filled, he turns to walk back to the door, head so buzzed he doesn’t know what to do. But when Yoongi can’t see into the control room anymore, he misses a stare through the glass.

A stare that lingers on him just a little too long.

The rest of the session goes smooth, and Yoongi’s relieved that they haven’t asked him for anything else.

After all. He doesn’t wanna push it, or step on Jungkook’s toes. What happened in the recording room only went down because you would have scolded him for not seizing that moment. And the suggestion he gave was lauded after the next take.

It was the first time since you kissed him goodbye that he felt a healthy pulse in his chest. Despite the chaos of the morning, amid the thoughts and worries penetrating his brain, you reached out and kept him steady in just the right moment.

Fuck being his good luck charm. You give guardian angels shame and you don’t even know it.

“Okay, we’ll take ten after this.”

Jungkook holds up an arm while agreeing, “Okay! We’ll save what we got!”

Yoongi’s scanning the tracks when he feels hovering over his shoulder, and he already knows it’s the kid without looking. “Sup.”

“Nothing.”

“You sure.”

At this, Jungkook pauses before he sighs. “Yeah, it’s nothing,” he clearly lies.

But Yoongi will let him figure out whether to run with that or not. He seems a little bothered about something, and it very well could be what happened in the booth. This is work, and they’re both adults. If he wants to talk about something, Yoongi will gladly have that conversation.

Suddenly, a vibration erupts in his hoodie pocket, and his phone is fished out without him even thinking.

Hustler: Incoming C—

Shit. You wouldn’t call him at work unless it’s urgent. Which is quickly throwing any possible theories about your brother not knowing out the window.

But fuck, he can’t answer yet. There’s no way. Not only is he in very close range to someone you don’t wanna speak to right now, but he’d get blasted for being on his phone during a session. Hoping you can wait just two more minutes, Yoongi turns the buzzing off within his hoodie pocket, anxiously waiting for the take to start.

Hoping to everything that Jungkook didn’t happen to see what was on his screen.

As soon as everyone looks pleased—three takes and thirty minutes later—Yoongi quickly excuses himself from the control room. His head practically overheats on the way out back, but the gust of morning breeze serves to soothe it some.

It’s been chilly lately. A bit grey. But whatever the weather has been outside, it’s no match for the atmosphere of his brain.

Pulling his hood over hair he hasn’t cut in months, Yoongi looks around before ringing you up. Hoping that you’re good and didn’t have to go through a version of his panic earlier.

Hustler: Outgoing Call

Straight to voicemail? Shit.

Hustler: Outgoing Call

Fuck, still voicemail. Are you okay? On the phone with someone else? Did your brother actually end up finding out and things are worse than he thought? Clutching his phone, Yoongi glances up while giving it slight shakes, body on alert while deciding what the hell to do now.

Maybe he can at least text you to ask what the hell happened this morning? Typing. Erasing. Retyping. Retrying.

Yoongi [9:02]: Got a session today, doll.

That’s what he had to say? That won’t do you any good, the fuck? Berating himself with a sigh, he takes a few steps while texting a follow-up.

Yoongi [9:03]: Still going, but are you good?

Staring, it takes him a few seconds to decide if this is enough. If these two messages are gonna suffice to help him figure out what the hell he’s getting into later.

It’s not. There’s too much he needs to know.

Hustler: Outgoing Call

When it doesn’t ring a third time, Yoongi gives up, cursing before turning and raking his hood off in distress.

Only to see Woosung materializing out of nowhere—relaxed, silent, and taking a drag.

Shit. How much of that did he witness?

“Been there,” the man empathizes, blowing out smoke into crisp morning. After a swell of early traffic fills the alleyway, he continues, “In trouble?”

Great. With a sound of dejection, Yoongi answers to a stack of random boxes, “Might be.”

“Don’t wanna commit anymore?”

“I do,” Yoongi blurts without hesitation, looking right into eyes that have seen plenty more than he has.

And it’s the first time he’s admitted anything out loud. To a stranger miles above him in status, no less. Hands stuffed in his pockets, he clarifies, “It’s just… There’s something I need to do first.”

Wait a sec. Why the fuck is he talking about this so freely? This isn’t something he does. Privacy is practically his brand. So why is it easy to talk to this guy? It’s him, for fuck’s sake. But what’s done is done. Woosung probably won’t even remember this conversation even happened, or is already annoyed as hell he didn’t get a good read on him.

To Yoongi’s surprise, his alley companion speaks again after another white wisp. “Mmm… Something you need to do?”

Well. Yoongi walked right into this one. Swallowing and knowing he can’t dip out, he sighs, “Some shit I wanna finish.” The smell of tobacco wafts around him when he looks at dulled skies. “Shit I need to get through.”

An amused hum floats through empty space. “Been there, too.”

Yoongi slowly turns to regard his client, watching as Woosung becomes very interested in wet concrete.

What kind of shit has this guy seen? Surely, he could have had some of the same experiences. The slight droop in his confident shoulders tells enough. But would he understand the exact same situation?

No. At least, Yoongi hopes not. Quite fucking frankly, he hopes no one has had to go through the same shit that he has.

“Let me know if you ever need help,” Woosung offers, shocking Yoongi to the point of speechlessness. As he drops his cigarette to squash it out, he runs a hand through wild dark locks. “We’ll be around again.”

Wait. What? Yoongi can only blink. “Serious?”

“Yeah.” The man looks down the outside corridor, watching as people start heading to their jobs through a central courtyard. “Got a good feeling about this place.”

What does he mean by that. What can Woosung possibly mean by that what does he mean they’ll be back? To the studio? To the city? What’s happening. Yoongi simply lets a pause prevail before offering the only response he’s capable of,

“It’s the food next door, huh.”

That laugh has got to be top five in the world. Not as great as yours, but definitely up there in terms of what makes Yoongi feel like things are alright. Not that he’d ever admit that shit to anyone. Ever.

Mercifully, the conversation moves away from risky topics. Instead, there are talks about a tour one is planning for his band’s album, mixed in with mentions of equipment the other is saving up for. Then the rest isn’t about music at all.

Finally, it’s time for them to continue recording, so they know to head back inside. “Don’t wait,” Woosung advises as he turns on his heel.

And Yoongi can only stare somewhere else.

“If there’s something you need to get through...”

Stare, and stare, and stare some more.

“Hit it until it breaks.”

Because he’s already aware. More than anyone.

As Woosung shuts the back door, Yoongi’s gaze finds the crushed cigarette at his side. Another reminder of how things were.

And a reminder that he’s still a fucking coward.

Hours later, Yoongi’s car awaits him in the lot.

And when he realizes that you still haven’t responded, he shuts his door just a little too hard.

Whenever his friend comes over for drinks, it’s always the same routine.

Both of them don’t talk much, instead opting for a quiet greeting before someone dumps themselves on the couch while the other grabs a bottle and cups in the kitchen. As soon as glasses are filled, conversation sparks as a game plays out on tv—or a sportscasting show if nothing interesting is airing.

But this time? None of it happens that way. Because when Yoongi opens his door, he’s pinned with a shadowed visage he's only seen piercing through others.

And the whole arctic starts to seep into his bloodstream.

Raising a brow and giving space is his chosen course of action. Best to not disturb a beast if they’re already ready to lunge.

And his friend eyes him as he stalks into the house, scanning around in search of something—living room, dining table, even looking into the open doorway of the bedroom.

Fuck. Relax. Don’t assume anything until things are on the table. Yoongi has got to pretend like tonight is normal and fine and that he’s obviously and positively not seeing and sleeping with his friend’s little sister.

And that he most definitely didn’t eat you out where your brother is sitting now motherfucker he needs a drink. Or a smoke. Or both with a plane ticket out of the whole country.

At least the television is already on. If it wasn’t for that ambiance, Yoongi’s head would be jam packed with every goddamn sound known to man. Including the adorable way you talk in your sleep, and how you strain so beautifully when you come fuck, fuck, fuck! Focus.

What’s happened has happened. And what’s going to happen will happen. Whether it’s a consequence of his actions, or nothing to do with any of this at all.

But when faced with everything smushing together at once? Yoongi will probably need to be revived no matter what the outcome. This is the most stressed out he’s been in years.

Not only that, but his stress is more than obvious. Even now in the kitchen, he’s scanning through his bottles with a finger—an action he’s never done while sober since the choices are always predictable. Holy shit, he needs to pull it together.

Has he ever been this panicked? Does he appear just as chaotic and disjointed as he feels? This is too new. This is very new and if he doesn’t regain control there’s no telling where this foreign road leads.

But the silence still remains as he turns. And apparently the road hits a dead end at his dining table. Since it’s occupied rather than the living room sofa.

Sighing, Yoongi ambles to his friend, placing everything down with clinks and ignoring the way his furniture is getting burned through. Both whisky’s are ready. Yoongi’s already holding his. And your brother still hasn’t moved a muscle. Honestly, what the fuck is going on with—

“I went to Jimin’s last night.”

…What.

Don’t react. He’s staring. Don’t fucking react. Take a drink. A sip. Pick up the goddamn glass. Doing so, Yoongi slowly brings the liquid to his lips, not quite following his own instructions as he asks behind a barrier, “How was it.”

His question is met with a laugh that isn’t funny at all. The kind that drags a finger along the chalkboard of your soul. And the next question directed his way pulverizes Yoongi’s denial,

“Care to share what’s been going on?”

He’s sick. Beyond sick. The room is closing in and closing in too fucking fast. Shit shit shit. There’s no way he saw. No fucking way. He parked down the street he deliberately stopped as far away as possible and you saw your brother’s car in your driveway. Did he get there after you left? And didn’t see you while also not hearing from hi—

“Why her, Yoong? Hmm?”

Fuck!

Yoongi can’t feel the air in his lungs. Because there isn’t any. Just a barren wasteland of shriveled futures and cracks in the foundation of every relationship he’s had in his whole life. The millisecond before a crash and only his wheels spinning and spinning and spinning—

Your brother shoots out of the chair, making the glass in Yoongi’s palm feel infinitely more solid.

“I mean, fuck! After all the shit we’ve been through? You’re gonna go back to her?”

All the—shit, he can’t even—back to? Back to you? What does he mean by back to you? Does he know about the first ti—

Volcanic, the man interrogating paces beside the dining table. Back and forth, back and forth. A pause. Back and forth.

And Yoongi still feels frozen in time. Is this it? Is this when things come crashing down? Glass suspends in midair all around him; an orchestra trembles beneath his feet, waiting for the moment to rip into his rib cage with swift strokes and a flourish as he’s taken down.

“Can’t fucking believe you.”

When Yoongi finally chooses to speak, what comes out only feels like a horrible attempt more than anything else, “Listen, it’s my fau—”

“What, you just decided to fuck that bitch again? Couldn’t stay away?”

Oh, fuck that.

Wood scrapes into flooring as Yoongi vacates his chair, hard feet planted as he gets into the face of his best friend, his confidant, his day one. Only to speak so low only them two can hear, “How bout you use your fucking words already and I’ll tell you.”

“Yeah? Is that what you want?” They are only a breath apart. But no one’s going anywhere now. “Need me to spell it out for that fuckass brain of yours—”

“Say it—”

“Stop fucking your ex, dude!”

Yoongi’s back connects with the chair behind him, palms flinging back to brace himself through a jolt of pain. And his eyes go so wide they stretch at the edges.

…Motherfucker, what?

Your brother is not done in the slightest, but Yoongi can only stare as he’s being berated for something that is one-hundred percent news to him, too.

“Everyone was happy when you finally left. All of us. Only for you to go and, what, get back with her?”

Nothing makes sense. This isn’t about you? Yoongi’s heart can’t even reset to start beating again. Everything is coming as shock after shock and there’s no way he can keep up at this pace.

His ex? Her? Where the fuck did that come from and why the hell does he of all people think that’s actually true?

“If you’re gonna be with her, you can count me out.”

No. Never again. That would never, ever happen again. “The fuck are you even saying—”

“I’m not fucking joking, Yoong. If you’re seriously back with her then—”

“Look, I don’t know what the fuck you heard, but I’m not.”

“So everything I heard was a lie?”

“Huh?”

“He told me!”

He—who? Who the fuck would say that? And when how what the fuck and why? Yoongi stares, chest heaving with every inhale and exhale. Because he has a choice to make. Either he trudges into this lie and rubs sludge all over his bones, or he denies it like he wants because it’s not fucking true.

What the actual fuck. It’s already bad enough that someone sent this along the rumor mill. And it’s making him sick thinking about all the implications surrounding it. But it’s even worse that his best friend believes it so easily. He’s coming at him so quick without even asking if it’s true.

The only silver lining—the singular bright spot in this hellhole—is that he can use it as an out. An out to protect you from wrath and further fury from your older sibling because if you were the rumor? He’d be laid flat on his floor next to a broken dining set.

“You gonna say anything or what?”

Truthfully, Yoongi feels queasy knowing what he’s gonna do. But it’s for you. You, you, you. And for that, Yoongi will do anything.

Even if it kills him.

“No, I, umm…”

“No?”

Just hurry up and fucking do it.

Resigned, Yoongi lets the memories flood through. Every moment that’s haunted him from a distance charges forward as he surrenders to the pain of his past. “It’s—” Fuck, he can’t even begin to lie, head thundering, thundering, striking his heart in the rain. “I...”

His friend halts. Tense before his shoulders fall back to normal. “You what.”

What the fuck does Yoongi do? What can he say when his brain is only firing up to beg him to run? Technically, he doesn’t have to say anything. He really doesn’t. But he can deflect. It’s what he’s best at, after all. He’s been doing it to you and he will do it again.

In the most defeated voice he can muster, Yoongi comes up with something that will placate his friend while still prolonging this horrid fib, “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

“You sure?”

It’s true. More true than anything. “It’s over now.”

A century passes. Then another. Then another. Every piece of furniture waits in silence as the television seeps back into his ears.

Then his friend sighs, not looking back as he slumps into the same chair that you always occupy. And Yoongi hopes his sigh of conflicted relief isn’t witnessed.

Following suit, he rubs his lower back before taking his regular seat again, not giving any shits about waiting to drink.

His ex?

As his throat warms, Yoongi starts to harden the more memories keep crashing into each other like jagged waves fuck he really hates how she was brought into this he swears as soon as he figures out who said this he is going to—

“Sorry.” Haze shattered, he lifts his gaze. “I’m so fucking stressed and hearing that last night just…”

“It’s done.” Yoongi reaches for the thick bottle, pouring more into his glencairn. Wanting to talk about literally anything else, he diverts the conversation, “But something else is up with you so say it.”

It works. The man inhales deep, rubbing his face with weary hands. When he rests elbows on wood, he finally talks about other things clouding his mind,

“Work is shit,” he groans downward. “They’re having me travel again.”

“Domestic?”

“Yeah. But for longer. And I don’t…” Tapering off, he sits back, slowly playing with his glass. As if he doesn’t want to mention the next problem.

When he finally does, Yoongi wholeheartedly understands the hesitation, “I dunno know what’s going on with my sister.”

Oh. Fuck, how the hell does he respond? Keeping his cool, Yoongi just repeats the question, taking out his phone and pretending to check his screen. “Your sister?”

“Yeah.” A sigh is sandwiched between explanations. “The past few months, I feel like.. They haven’t really been themselves.”

A sudden crack splits him through.

“Not laughing. Not eating as much. Like even when they sound happy, I can tell it’s a front.. I don’t know.”

The clunk of his phone hits the table very hard.

No. No, no, no. Your texts have been so positive. So encouraging. Other than a few sad calls, you’ve been happy to hear from him just as he had been relieved to hear from you. Even in the car, you must’ve put your feelings lightly.

Your wings. You’ve been enduring all that? For him? Yoongi’s heart rears its head, snagging one of his breaths and slamming both lungs into the floor.

And hatred paints his heart another shade darker.

“They finally went out last night, but. Didn’t come back until this morning.” Running rigid hands through his head, the man looks so pained. So helpless. “Same clothes, dude.”

And Yoongi can only stare, feigning nonchalance but raging and tearing himself apart inside. “Mm.”

“I just… I know I suck at this, but. I don’t know what the hell to do. Or if I even do anything.” Your brother finally takes a swig, wincing at how much ethanol coats his tongue.

Relax, relax, relax. As much as he wants to erupt on himself right now, Yoongi has to stay calm.

Not like he doesn’t know how. That’s usually how he operates, anyway. It’s hard to tell he’s struggling unless you look deep enough. And almost no one thinks to do so because his surface is all they want.

But right now? He doesn’t think he can sequester this anger any longer. At him, his past, and his stupid present decisions.

“Like I tried to say something but I just.. I felt like if I push too hard, they’re gonna shut down even more. Ever since that fight with Kook, it’s like..”

Seeing an opening and keeping a neutral stance, Yoongi asks the most ironic question to date, “Are they seeing someone?”

At this, his friend shakes his head, eyes glued to dark amber liquid. When he answers, all the breaths in the world cut at once,

“I think she feels all alone.”

This hit is the strongest. Straight to the gut, breath stuttering and muscles clenching so hard they lock. It’s almost severe enough to affect how Yoongi feels around his eyes.

“And it sucks not knowing what to do.”

Yoongi’s heart lurches, deflating and slipping out of the crack in his chest. Piercing on the jagged edges before slumping down onto a table that continues to judge him.

You’re hurting. Your brother’s hurting. And it’s all his goddamn fault. Why can’t he just break free and admit shit? Why is he still haunted by the phantoms of his past? Why is he still so fucking weak? It’s clear that he hurt you. For months. You’ve been cheering for him that whole time while you’ve been visibly broken and it’s all because of his dumbass decision to—

“I’m heading out again.”

Yoongi raises his eyes. Because he can’t seem to move anything else. “When.”

Your older sibling takes a slower, more measured sip. Looking towards the channel playing in the living room, he answers, “After our game. Dinner Friday, game on Saturday, fly out Sunday.”

“Mm. We’ll still be here,” Yoongi assures, keeping things as normal and neutral as he can. “Just like last time.”

How ironic. How hypocritical. He hasn’t been there for you in the slightest so how the fuck can he say that with a straight face.

“Thanks. I know it’s a lot for y’all but..”

Not at all. Yoongi is more determined than ever to make everything up to you. It’s the least he can do after putting you through something he decided on the fly.

On the run.

“Don’t worry about that,” he vows into his drink. Honestly, if you’ve been having second thoughts about this whole thing, he doesn’t blame you. Absolutely doesn’t blame you if you realize you’re better than this. But Yoongi’s at least gonna apologize in every single way he can. As soon as he possibly can. “We got it.”

“K.” The man finishes his glass and goes to pour more. “Did I ever mention that she liked you?”

Now what— Coughing on whisky is a bitch and a half. Hitting his chest while both eyes squint from burn, Yoongi croaks out his exact thoughts, “What.”

At this, his friend finally breaks into his regular smile. Setting the bottle down with a hollow clunk, he points, “Don’t you fucking get any ideas. Jimin’s already on my shit list.” He scoffs out a laugh. “But it was obvious when we were younger.”

And Yoongi can only cough some more. He shakes his head through the sting, swallowing and trying to compose himself. He doesn’t know where the hell that came from, but he hopes your brother will understand when all is said and done. Even though he’s been the reason you’ve been so…

Yoongi almost fucking confesses.

“You’re a good person,” he blurts instead. Whether the guilt or last cough pushed it out, that’s still on the table. “You don’t suck at what you think you do.”

“You think so?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

The hell? Does this dude really not see how successful he is? How much he’s overcome and conquered and sacrificed? Truthfully, Yoongi wouldn’t be where he is today if not for your brother. Him. Jimin. You. Anybody. Which is what makes this ongoing betrayal…

Unprecedented.

“You’re the best out of all of us.”

Your brother finally looks at him, though Yoongi isn’t doing the same. But he can still tell when a fist is held out for him to bump, so he does.

And they both share a drink in respectful silence.

After a moment of them watching the tv, the man finally sighs. “Guess we did shape up pretty nice.” When he’s agreed with, he keeps going with a grin. “We were so fucking bad.”

Yoongi can only chuckle, much better memories fighting off the terrors. “Old me was a little shit.”

“You still are.”

“Says you!”

“I still am, too!”

Laughs precede big swigs of whisky and comfortable quiet. Bit by bit, shoulders start to relax with the surrounding air, and Yoongi lazily releases tension in his neck.

After a few more pours, your brother decides to call it, using the bathroom before announcing that he’s gonna head out. Yoongi gets up from his chair to clasp hands goodbye, not expecting to hear one more plea,

“Break up with her, Yoong.”

Shit. He sighs, and their conversation continues from the dining table to the front door. “It’s not like that.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s over now.”

“For good?” As they stop beside the coat closet, your brother pins him with a look. “I was about to drive over and break down the door.”

Even though Yoongi shares a tsk with him, he can’t help but imagine what could’ve happened if that was the case. And it sends an unwanted jolt of chills.

“Serious. I’m gonna keep saying this, but. she was just making you miserable, dude.” He slips on his shoes, smacking his foot on the ground to push one in place. “I’m sure it was good at first, but I mean… You gotta move on. You deserve better than that.”

Anything would be better than that. Yoongi just disagrees with the whole deserving part. “I guess.”

“You sure it’s over?”

“Yeah,” he assures, because that is something he intends to keep true forever. “It is.”

“Good.” Keys jingling, your sibling then points into the open area with his whole arm, seven words leaving his mouth like ice,

“Then get rid of that fucking guitar.”

Ah. Among all the things. Of course he would bring that up, too. Jaw working, Yoongi looks away, now assaulted by all the torturous thoughts surrounding that painful reminder and fighting them off with no success.

Get rid of it? He’s been trying.

For three. Fucking. Months.

“I might.”

“…K.”

And his best friend departs, leaving Yoongi inside and staring at the same black spot he’s kept in the corner for years. It has mocked him as he struggles. Laughed at him whenever he’s tried to throw it out. And aside from the times he’s made you feel better stinging himself on those strings, he has accomplished nothing except letting it win.

Pissed off and doused in guilt, Yoongi yanks himself away from the door, the instrument, and everything else except for his bed.

Keeping his shadow exactly where it stands.

Yoongi knows he needs to talk to you.

But his phone exists somewhere on the other side of his bedroom door.

And he doesn’t have the strength to go get it.

What time is it?

All that greets him is darkness.

Nothing new, but darkness all the same.

Why was she mentioned? What does that mean?

He needs to call you. He’s lying to his best friend.

Her? You. His sheets still smell like you.

Inhale. Breathe. Inhale.

He needs to call you. But he’s so, so tired.

And the darkness pulls him back under.

Without even telling him the time.

Buzzing.

Faint, gentle buzzing softly lifts Yoongi’s eyelids before a loud series of smacks causes him to rush out of bed what the fuck?

Oh. His phone fell outside. Fucking hell, his heart’s beating way too quick for that to be the only thing that happened.

Head in his hands, Yoongi sighs deep before making his way to the dining table. And it takes all of his strength to bend down to reach for his phone.

Hustler: Missed Calls (6)

Dumbass: 1 Message

Hustler: 3 Messages

Chim: 7 Messages

Chim: Missed Calls (3)

Holy fuck.

With only the light of his phone illuminating the dark, Yoongi rings Jimin up. His heart’s a little disappointed it wasn’t you calling just now, but it’s probably best to stay away while his brain is so scattered and torn.

“Oh, fuck. There you are.”

“Mm.”

“Don’t scare me like that, bro. I was starting to get ready to drive over—”

“It’s fine,” he juts in. “What’s up.”

Alright, maybe he shouldn’t be an asshole. There’s no reason to let his lingering shadow from earlier control his temper now. Jimin’s just being himself, for fuck’s sake.

“I, umm. I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”

Now that’s not what Yoongi expected at all. “For what?”

There’s another pause on the line, and his reaction is immediate when he knows for a fact Jimin is fighting back tears.

“I… I got so drunk last night, I—And I—”

Shit. A sinking feeling starts to weigh Yoongi down, his center pulling the rest of him in like a black hole. And he doesn’t need to hear the rest of this to know what this call is about.

“He was looking for her, Yoong, and you weren’t there, either. He had this look, I—I couldn’t think of anything else to say in the moment and I told him—”

Jimin can’t even finish his confession. And it hits right in the gut.

Despite his perceived persona, Yoongi doesn’t like hearing people cry. At least, if they don’t deserve to or don’t deserve to be sad—or if they’re you. He could care less about the rest.

But Jimin is one of the only people that can get him like this: eyes stinging at their edges and his chest concave. In the dark, though, no one can tell. No one can see him.

So he can openly swipe at his eyes before dumping tired limbs into a chair, catching his forehead in a damp palm.

“I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.”

Exhaling through his nose, Yoongi tries his best to calm his emotions. Because they are still raging and it’s going to take all of him to quell this tempest.

Jimin knows more than anyone what this means to him. To you. The time you spent apart? If it wasn’t for his friend, Yoongi may have been in a much different position. If this was the only thing Park could do, then his effort has to be acknowledged. It worked like a fucking charm.

But goddamn, Yoongi wishes Jimin thought of literally anything else. He could’ve made up some random, some fling from another city, the damn studio itself.

“Don’t worry about it,” he finally rasps out. “It’s just been a fuckin’ day.”

Jimin sniffles before cursing at himself and, judging by the sounds on the line, Yoongi figures he’s opening his fridge. If he reaches for soju, that would not be surprising in the least, and now that sounds like a good idea.

“Same. Gah, I just… I should’ve warned you. I didn’t know he went over there.”

“He told you?”

“I called him after you didn’t answer earlier.”

“Oh. Yeah, I passed out after he left.”

“Ah.”

Something shuts before there’s a crisp clink on the line, validating exactly what Yoongi was thinking.

“I really am sorry. What did you end up saying?”

“That it’s done.”

A hum.

“That’s very true.”

There’s a question that Yoongi thinks to ask. Context that he needs. But as important as this information is, Yoongi doesn’t feel like talking about it right now. Or ever. But now still counts. So he switches the conversation over to something less daunting, “Practice still on tomorrow?”

When Jimin laughs out of surprise, it gives Yoongi the smallest kick of energy.

“Ah, someone actually ready to go for once?”

“Yeah. The plan is to make this game quick.”

A hearty swallow spills out of the speaker before a hum follows,

“Mm, that reminds me. Got something that might help with that.”

What the hell does that even mean? “Huh?”

“I’ll bring it over tomorrow. You might find some good uses for it.”

Yoongi rubs the grogginess still clinging to his face. “All these years and you’ve never given me a straight answer.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Knowing the answer.”

At least Jimin’s back in a good mood. Or a better state than puffy-eyed and regretful. He doesn’t have to share the pain in this, too. It was an honest mistake.

“You’ll know it when you see it.”

“Annoying.”

“Love you, too!”

Yoongi’s huff billows through his nose, and Jimin’s energy almost brings enough strength for him to clear the table.

Ehh. He’ll leave it alone. He’s been pretty good at that lately, too, no matter how early or late it is in the night. What time even is it? Checking his phone, Yoongi’s brows crease when he figures that out. Why the hell are they even on a call right now? “Wait, is it really three?”

“Huh? Yeah. I’m telling you, dude, I was getting worried.”

He was really about to drive over? “Sorry. I really did just pass out.”

“Mm. Well, I’m gonna go do that now.”

“K. Same time tomorrow?”

“Ah, a little earlier. Just so I can give this to you before everyone else shows.”

That just makes Yoongi infinitely more curious. “Seriously, what did you get?”

“Relax! You will like it.”

“Chim, I swear—”

“You’ll thank me later bye!”

As soon as Jimin disappears from the line, Yoongi is left alone again.

Exactly where he always ends up.

Exactly where he doesn’t want to be.

But now that he’s done dealing with those notifications, Yoongi roams lidded eyes over his screen again.

Wait. You called him six times? Fuck. What did you text? Were you wondering where he was, too?

Hustler [20:01]: HOLY FUCK!! my phone died after i tried calling you this morning and i just fully woke up to charge it😭 he’s not home so call whenever

Yoongi clutches his phone a little tighter.

He very much would’ve rather been in your bed with you all day.

That sounds like fucking bliss.

Hustler [23:37]: tried calling but he’s home now. are you ok?? idk what’s going on with him but i think we need to be careful

Shit, Yoongi didn’t get to tell you. You’ve probably been worried about that every second you’ve been awake today.

And he couldn’t even make it out of his goddamn room to help.

All he comes with is worries for you. What kind of shit is this? What is he even doing? He even outright told you that you were dating only for that to be ripped from your hands for months. Why are you still giving someone like him a chance?

Hustler [23:40]: but all i wanna do is see you

Fucking hell.

Nothing in the world can stop his heartbeat quite like you can. With that smile, or those eyes, or the simple shit like this. Not even lightning can strike him the same way.

Despite the consistency Yoongi has with admitting his own shortcomings, and despite the way he keeps reminding himself he doesn’t deserve you…

All he wants to do is see you, too.

You’ve been more than he ever would’ve imagined—your consideration, your intellect, your mind. And there have been times when you’d look at him as if he was the center of your galaxy.

After all this time. All these days and nights.

You still don’t realize that he was destined to orbit you.

It’s been decided long before his mind was made up—at least, the part of him that doesn’t traverse the dark side. His heart had been tugging him to you ever since that rainy day, no matter where he’s drifted or which direction he’s gone in. All of them lead back into your arms.

But just like the feeling he gets walking into the recording booth, imposter syndrome eats him alive and doubt scavenges on what’s left.

He will never be good enough for you. One of these days, you will realize that you don’t have to settle for him. It’s good now, but you’ll only give him so many chances, which he is swiftly running through at breakneck speeds.

How fucking stupid. Having these thoughts while wanting nothing more than to hear your voice.

Just like everyone else, you’ll eventually be done passing through. His winter will return after your inevitable departure, all the warmth you give focused on something else that deserves it more.

Something that isn’t broken.

Yoongi whips his head up at the sound of buzzing, noticing thin lines of light beneath his phone on the table.

What. No way.

From the rapid beats inside his chest, he shoots his hopes right into the dark.

And they burst into beautiful sparks when he reads his screen.

Hustler: Incoming Call

But just like the streaks of color he witnessed with you on that balcony, his brightness is short lived. Because as soon as Yoongi answers, the way your throat constricts scorches his windpipe through.

And the first thing you attempt to get through makes his eyes shut tight.

“Are we… is this over?”

Fuck.

“I get it, if we are. If you—if you don’t wanna do this with me anymore.”

Fuck. Fuck everything this is not happening right now. “Hold up,” Yoongi breathes, body on full alert. “What’s going on?”

“I thought… When you weren’t picking up, I—”

“Breathe, babe,” Yoongi softens, hating, hating, hating himself all over again. “I passed out before you called. That’s it.”

“Oh. Shit, I really thought—”

“You would know,” he whooshes, syllables squeezed out by the mountain of regret on his back. After hearing what he put you through? Hearing how you sound now? There’s no way he can do that shit again. No more disappearing from the grid because he can’t fight himself. “You would know if I was done.”

Your sniffle sinks the ship with his heart inside.

“Are you? With me?”

Yoongi folds, fingers digging through his hair and blocking it in hard chunks. The amount of things he wants to say to you could wrap the whole world before repeating. But he settles with a truth he can say out loud,

“No way in hell, doll.”

Please. Don’t cry. Because he can only handle feeling his eyes sting so much in one night. There’s only so much he can take before he’s grabbing his keys and speeding over—friends and brothers be damned.

“Okay… I’m just. It’s been a day.”

That’s okay.

Because he’s had a day, too.

“I don’t wanna bother you with it, though, it’s so late.”

Please keep going.

Please don’t leave him alone.

“Talk to me.”

Like a gentle stream, your recap—though not ideal—washes away the weariness from Yoongi’s eyes. Lifts the weight he bears on his shoulders, even if just a little bit.

You’re so good at that.

“Well. Umm. He saw me coming home this morning. And, umm. It was weird. I don’t know why but I think we have to be really careful. And ugh, it—. It sucks because he’s going on a trip soon and I don’t wanna stress him out even more but I—”

Shit, you’ve probably been holding all of this in ever since you got up. You don’t know that your brother believes something entirely different. But of course you’d be considerate, even now. That’s just who you are.

“I, umm. I feel so fucking bad about it but I don’t wanna mess him up right now. Or maybe he knows but just won’t say it? Fuck, sorry, I’m trying not—to—”

The phone goes mute, and Yoongi’s head suddenly weighs ten times heavier.

“He doesn’t know, babe,” he soothes, hating how he can’t be there to comfort you with more than his word and waves in the sky.

If he was stronger, things could be different by now. Vastly different. Vastly better. You would cry less, he knows that for damn sure. Weak, weak, weak. That’s all he fucking is.

The only one he seems to be strong for is you. “He came over earlier.”

“Fuck, really?”

“Yeah.”

You pause, seemingly to roll this information around that beautiful mouth of yours, and Yoongi has the strongest yearning to kiss all your worries right out of it.

“What did he say?”

Shit. You’ll just have to forgive him later. Because Yoongi chooses not to tell the whole truth. You don’t need to bear the same worries as him, anyway. They aren’t yours. He will shoulder all of those on his own. Because he’s the reason for them in the first place. “Nothing about us.”

“Oh, thank fuck.”

Good. Your relief is all that matters. But Yoongi still feels bad for not being able to pick himself up. You could’ve known that a lot sooner if he was stronger. If he was better. “So don’t worry, doll.”

“Okay. What about you? Are you okay?”

Huh? Your questions catch him completely off-guard. It’s almost comical how his first reaction goes straight to a No. But sticking to his earlier stances, he won’t bother you with any of that. There is a truth that he can admit. One that’s always true and will continue to be so. “Just wanna see you.”

And this is when his eyes slowly shut. Don’t. Don’t cry.

“Me, too, baby.”

Hearing that? Chipped and broken from your lips? That is another thing Yoongi can’t handle. His heart beats once before it free falls, and he clutches his phone just a little tighter.

Fuck everything. He’s gonna find a way to do this. All of it.

“I’ll figure it out.”

“You will?”

He’ll figure out how to move mountains to make it up to both you and your brother.

“Just a little longer.”

He has to.

“Okay.”

Neither of you deserve this. And he doesn’t deserve either of you. Truly, the only thing he deserves is to be alone. And judging by the way things are going, it’s only a matter of time before you start resenting this behavior and leave, too.

“Thank you.”

What? Something in Yoongi flickers, and he lifts his whole head to eye his screen.

“For putting up with me.”

Oh. Of course you’d assume you’re the issue. Seems like you need the same type of assurance that he does. Both of you the same? Who would’ve thought his bruised soul would sync up with a perfect one like yours.

At this, he holds his breath before chuckling soft. “This has been the highlight of my day, doll,” he admits, finally breaking into a tiny smile and sitting back.

“Really?”

Wait. There was another good part of his day. But he wants to save that for when he can tell you in person. “One of them. But you’ll hear about the other one later.”

“Boo.”

Cute. Wait, isn’t it absurdly late? You have to be up for work in mere hours. It’s a miracle you reached out when you did. “Don’t you have to be up soon?”

“A ha… Yeah.”

“What are you still talking to me for?”

“I miss you.”

Well. That’s not something that he expected. And your admittance being so immediate actually sends shivers down his arms.

Yoongi can only laugh to himself. He knew he had it bad, but this feeling is something else. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what? Miss you? Yeah, right.”

God. You’re getting too fucking good at this. He’s gotta fight back or else his throne will be taken before he even sees you again. “Just a bad night to say it, doll.”

“Why?”

Perfect. “Cus I’m willing to get in the car.”

“Fuck.”

Yoongi happily lets his mouth slant when you groan, chuckling into the receiver and getting up to clear the table. When he flicks on the kitchen light, he doubles down, “Wanna try again?”

He knows you’re gonna say no. Even though your brother doesn’t know, it’s definitely not a proper time to sneak you out—as much as he fucking wants to. Fuck, to be the one sneaking you out of your house… Maybe there’s another version of you both out there that’s done it. A version of him watching a version of you creeping out to his car, face shining in nightfall and etching a permanent smile into his heart.

“I hate you.”

Yoongi should’ve expected that. The sudden laugh that flings out into his liquor cabinet ricochets off multiple bottles, and he shuts it while sporting a wide grin. “That’s better.”

“Ha ha.”

You’re smiling, too. Cute ass. Just the fact that he knows makes him excited for the future, and he’s determined to make it count. Make it worth it. You deserve every goddamn apology he can give. “I miss you, too, babe,” he whispers, grabbing the glasses from the table to wash in his sink.

“Nu uh! You hate me, too.”

Wait. Did you…

Did you just pout?

Hell no, that’s outright cheating. That’s when Yoongi will never be able to win. Putting the phone down, he promptly states his new plan into a basin, “Nah, I’m going to sleep.”

“Wait, huh? Why!”

“Nothing.”

“I swear to god—”

“Nothing at all,” Yoongi lies, voice straight as he can muster while hot water runs over his hands. It’s a good kind of sting as his chilled skin adjusts, and he cleans one glass before he hears you ask in his ear,

“Getting ready for bed? Or are you in the kitchen?”

The smallest smile graces his face. “Guess.”

“Kitchen.”

The hell? “How’d you know?”

“You’re always in there.”

Can’t deny that. The glasses are both set to dry in the dishwasher as Yoongi’s amusement dies down, and his next comment flows out before he can think much of it, “You like to keep me in here.”

“It does seem to be where we end up, huh?”

“It does.” Which is fine by him. He’ll never forget all the times you’ve been in here. Your laughter and your storms, he will remember them all.

“The world said let them cook.”

Your giggles will be the fucking end of him one day. Fuck, he can’t wait to see you. He may even find a way to see you before the game.

But for now, Yoongi will figure out how to talk to you, every day, no matter what. Texts, calls, whatever the fuck. The effort has got to show from now on. No more of this dark headspace shit. He needs to try harder and figure it out faster. For you.

“Go to sleep, doll,” he huffs with full cheeks.

After another adorable batch of sounds, you rustle on the line before sighing,

“You better sleep, too.”

“I will.”

With a blink, Yoongi notices two things. One, he just cleared his table and cleaned up without even thinking. And two, despite feeling like absolute shit the entire day and dreading the coming of night, falling asleep won’t be an issue.

Because of you. It’s always you.

Maybe there’s a way out. Maybe he can finally face it all and come out on the other side. “Talk to you tomorrow, babe.”

“I’d like that. And you’re sure he doesn’t know?”

Just like that, the demons are knocking again. Closing his eyes, Yoongi murmurs into the receiver, “I’m sure.”

There will come a time when he will tell you. But that will be way in the future, when he is ready. For now, you’ll just have to trust that he’s telling the truth. Not the whole truth, but enough for it to calm your nerves.

“Okay. Good night, baby.”

One more heartbeat to get him through the night.

“Night, doll.”

When the phone cuts, Yoongi’s hand falls, his stare shifting straight to the living room.

Right towards the corner that stares back.

It’s been five days.

But it feels like you’ve aged twenty-eight years.

Ever since your brother confronted you—after your much needed reunion with his best friend—you’ve been floating through time. Lost. Confused. Wondering why that conversation went the way it did and gnawing at your sanity bit by bit.

And even though Yoongi explicitly told you he didn’t say anything concerning your relationship, you still haven’t shaken that feeling. No matter where you are, who you’re with, or on a pretty Friday like this one, you feel… Strange.

When you saw your brother waiting, you for sure thought you were gonna get grilled. It was a given you were gonna break as soon as he started asking deeper and more specific questions. The fallout was gonna happen in your own house right at your door.

…So what in the fuck was that?

You shift your legs, the chill of the office failing to comfort you in your manufactured, building distress.

Somehow, that version of the conversation proved much, much worse. Because now you’re spiraling trying to figure out why he just took your lie as the truth. Truthfully, you feel nauseous. And as much as you need to get some semblance of closure, you still feel hesitant. Because if he’s just biding time? He’s not just thinking about what to do with you.

He’s thinking about what to do with Yoongi, too.

This is so hard.

The only thing—the only thing—keeping you grounded. Is Yoongi himself.

Ever since the call you never thought he’d answer, you’ve been contacted every night. What was once days of radio silence quickly shifted to him reaching out however he could, hours of the day be damned. Just last night, in fact, Yoongi sent you texts at four in the morning, and you beam just thinking about what he said so casually.

Yoongi [3:57am]: That keyboard I told you about is fucking dope. Just got it today and it won’t let me sleep lmaooo

Yoongi [3:58am]: I was gonna say sorry for texting but fuck it you’re getting all the updates :)

No matter what it is, be it a text, call, or video chat, Yoongi seems fully committed and in the moment. Present. And it’s been… Really nice. If you didn’t have your brother’s shadow hovering over your brain, life would be practically perfect.

Forcing yourself to actually work, you manage to get some small things done. Even the meeting you attend goes smoothly and you leave any outside worries on the other side of those glass walls.

So when you get back to your desk, an awaiting paper bag makes you pause. And your whole body prepares to weep.

Only one person has ever sent you food while you’re at work. And staring inside the parcel, you would’ve been able to tell who it was from even if said person had never sent any before.

There’s a small note on top of a to-go container—one that you immediately recognize as that super good restaurant next to Jungkook’s studio.

What the hell? How did Yoongi know you wanted some this whole week but didn’t wanna risk being so close? With careful fingers, you pluck the tiny paper from the bag, opening it with care before your eyes get so teary eyed you can’t even read.

Tonight.

This man.

I got the next one.

This wonderful, charming man.

But you’re getting what I need so here’s the list:

Goddamn it, Min Yoongi.

Seeing an actual list of food squeezes a laugh through your throat in a squeak, tears rushing out of your ducts before they’re hastily swiped.

After five days. Yoongi really just sent you on a grocery run to surprise you with another meetup.

The gesture is so him that you cannot help but shake your head, ruefully huffing to no one and pocketing the note in your bag. And all your worries scatter even further.

A dinner before the big game is risky, for sure, but at this point you couldn’t care less. Your brother has his own work outing tonight, anyway, and you are dead set on breaking all of this to him soon.

Even though you are very much unprepared. And he is going to lose his fucking mind if he doesn’t know already. Fuck.

You’ve had all five days to think it over. All the possible combinations and possibilities and outcomes. Some of them are extreme, some of them are hopeful. But for a majority of these projections, you have a feeling that none of you are gonna leave it without wounds.

And you don’t know how you’re gonna save both of them if theirs are cut too deep.

Regardless, that’s in the future. Not now. Right now, you are staying in the present and working like molasses until you can jet out the door, nary a care nor concern weighing on your heels.

Tonight. He’s gonna cook for you?

You’ll have the first substantial meal you’ve had in months.

Even though you want nothing more than to see Yoongi, your nerves are still buzzing and bumping into each other nonstop. There’s a lot you still need to know. Like why he was radio silent for months, and why your brother has been a little weird this whole week.

Save it for later. Hopefully Yoongi will tell you why eventually. Or that gap will stay elusive to your brain forever.

Sliding into your car, you dump your bag in the passenger seat before pulling out the list, clutching it close and taking a leap that could either calm your nerves or spike them.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

When he picks up, you legitimately don’t answer. Because even after all this time, you still can’t quite function when you hear that deep voice addressing you directly.

“Hey.”

All you have to do is say something. Anything. You could rattle off the damn list, stumbling over all the syllables just like they’re currently smushed together in your fingers.

But you don’t snap out of this trance until he speaks again.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” you squeak out, clearing your throat while watching other people walk to their cars. “Hi, sorry. I just umm.”

You just what? Somehow lost all sense of language just from him saying hi? Get it together. Stop that racket in your stomach and say what you were gonna say. “Thank you for the food. I’m off work now so I’m heading to the store.”

He simply huffs a quiet laugh.

“Get whatever you want, too. Just let me know how much it is.”

Huh. Did Yoongi just say all those words in that order? If you heard him right, forget the damn food. You’re close to speeding directly to his place and breaking down the motherfucking door. “Oh, I definitely will,” you respond with instead of hauling ass, the words pushing through your lingering smile. “And don’t worry about that, I got it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah! I got big girl money now.”

Yoongi laughs again on the line, fuller and closer this time. Are you on speaker?

“It’s like that? Maybe I should work there, too.”

“Oh, you’d hate it,” you giggle, scheming hard in your head for tonight already. Pretty bubbles in your ribs lift all your spirits. “I’m actually pretty bossy here.”

The groan that seeps through your car should be illegal.

“That is literally what I’ve been wanting to see.”

It’s your turn to chuckle as you finally make your way out of the parking lot, heading right to the market that you know for a fact has all of what he’s asking for. “I’m only that way at work, though.”

“Do better.”

Your immediate response makes his laugh crunchy in the speakers, and you go along with him because life is good. Life is fucking great right now. “Never mind, you’re paying. And I’m getting stuff for dessert now, too.”

“What? Who said anything about dessert?”

“Me,” you huff out in pride. Since he wants to see that demanding side come out so bad. With a fleeting thought, you think about what it could be like if you end up confident enough to—

“I’m starting to regret this.”

“Regret what?”

“Everything.”

Liar! Your cheeks hurt as you look both ways before making a turn. “Can’t fool me. You’re excited.”

“I am.”

The way there was no hesitation sends shivers up your spine. But it’s partly because you thought you’d be faced with another joke or dig. Not a sudden one-eighty. Stopping at a light, you clear your throat before shyness puffs right out of it. “Well, good,” you state while checking your mirrors. “Cus I am, too.”

“That’s a given, though.”

“Excuse you.”

Yoongi laughs before you hear the sound of cabinets, and you wonder which ones he could be touching.

“Mm, babe. One more thing.”

Can he stop making your heart beat two times at once? “Hmm?”

There’s a little bit of pause, followed by the clank of a pan on metal. When you hear another hum, you wonder what he could possibly—

“I think we’re out of condoms.”

Who is out of what. If you weren’t still at a red, your foot would’ve slammed on the gas because what the fuck! All you can manage out are sounds without substance, random syllables, gibberish. Nothing is computing in your head.

“Wait. Or are we?”

Okay, Yoongi needs to stop with that two-letter word before your behavior turns downright criminal. With as much seriousness as you can manage, you accuse, “Are you just fucking with me?”

And his response launches you forward just as the light turns green,

“Yeah. That’s why we’re out of—”

“Alright!” you cut in, stopping stopping stopping him because for whatever reason, this conversation is too much. Despite seeing this very man naked in many, many ways, just having this talk with him is making you shier than ever before. “Guess I’ll, umm. Get those, too.”

“Nah, you don’t have to.”

“Oh. Found some?”

“No.”

Wait. If he didn’t find some why is he telling you that you don’t have to— “Oh,” you peep in realization. A very sudden, jaw dropping realization. “Goddamn it, you’re too distracting now, bye.”

And he finally breaks with laughter that’s contagious as hell. Which isn’t fair when you’re pretending to be upset with him. Even when you can’t see Yoongi, you can imagine the way his cheeks rise and his eyes crease. The way the whole room illuminates when he’s packed with happiness.

And you want that to be the case forever.

“You’re just lucky I’m not there with you.”

“Yeah, you’d be annoying as hell.”

“Damn!”

As the market comes into view, your teeth shine as you grin, roasting this man quickly becoming one of your favorite pastimes.

“To be fair,” you start to amend, fingers drumming on the wheel as you decide whether or not to say what you want. After deciding that there’s no wrong answer here, you softly admit, “I really do wanna get groceries with you.”

There’s no words that come out in response. Only the slight movements of shuffling and water running and what could be more cabinets closing. But you don’t really know for sure—

“It’s gonna happen, doll.”

You clutch the wheel.

“Cus I want that, too.”

One of these days you’re gonna see this damn cat again.

Foot connecting with Yoongi’s door, you grunt as multiple bags burden your limbs, pride digging divots along your arms—second trips be damned.

It doesn’t take long for him to let you in anyway, and you swoon at the way he doesn’t even ask while taking some of your baggage. But the kiss on your cheek makes your heart bang into everything between the front door and the kitchen. It’s so distracting that you barely smell the spices greeting you, too.

“Thanks for getting all this,” Yoongi says as you both cross onto tile.

“Of course.” Lifting the much lighter load that you have, you revel in the small thumps and thuds on his counter. Not really knowing why. “Let’s put this up before I yell at you.”

His laugh comes out in hisses while you both start reaching into bags. “For what!”

“Sent me everywhere to find some of this shit.”

“You could’ve asked somebody.”

Feeling a bit silly and high off his presence already, you repeat his words in a goofy mocking tone, and the way he blows out air sends your belly fluttering.

And just like that, things are back to normal again. No worries about your sibling, or work, or anything else looming by the door. Inside is what matters, and the whole apartment fills with jabs and jokes as groceries find their homes.

But Yoongi finds a bag you had separated from the rest, and you snap your mouth shut when he looks inside, something rising in your core when he turns to you with an eyebrow raised. And a smirk so salacious it makes you quiver.

“What about it,” you squeak out, crumbling when he simply takes the bag and flings it through his bedroom door. “You said you—we were out, so…”

“That’s a big box, doll,” he points out on his way to your tightly bitten lip. Mouth slicing through your sanity, he approaches you with a glint in his eyes. “Got something you wanna say?”

“Nope,” you whoosh out oh god he looks way too hot in those sweats wait is that a growing bulge? “Although I will say it took me forever to pick out what—”

Sparks ignite your hands when your lips are claimed, launching them into his shirt and tugging him backward because you’ve been waiting way too long to kiss the shit out of him.

And Yoongi responds in kind, pinning you to his fridge and so, very obvious that he’s been waiting for this, too.

Heaven probably wonders how to replicate this feeling. How to imitate this treasured yearning that only he can pull from the depths of your ocean. Deep, deeper, deepest. All these kisses. Your ascending affection.

“As much as I wanna throw you on my bed,” Yoongi jokes, pulling away and giving your cheek a light tap. “I’m taking you somewhere.”

And you’re so thrown from the impact that your brain mini-resets. “Huh? We’re leaving?”

“Uh huh.”

Hold on. Wait. Is this what he meant when he said he’s getting the next one? You’re going out to eat? Together? No. No, there’s no way. Yoongi knows that’s the worst possible thing to do right now, as much as the idea is sending your belly in a frenzy. “Are you sure? What about dinner? Won’t people… You know.”

“It’s ready already,” he reveals. “By the door.”

Your head snaps to where he points out, even though you can’t see through the bar. “Really?” No wonder it smells like a cooking aftermath. All those smells twirling around your head. How did you not even catch the dishes in the sink?

But hold up, you just bought a shit ton of food! “Then what the hell was the run for?”

Yoongi blinks. Then he does it again. Expression stone still, he responds as if you were privy to his plans this entire time, “I told you to get what I needed.”

Your turn to blink.

“And I needed food.”

This man is going to be the death of you. Affronted, your jaw hangs before you grit through a smile that betrays you, “Oh, you—”

“So thanks,” he quips through another tilt of his lips. “Let’s go, doll.”

The begrudged sound that leaves you makes him kick his head back on the way out the kitchen.

“Eat.”

The container on your thighs warms you through. “Now?”

“Mm.”

“I can wait,” you assure, watching as night paints the surrounding scenery in navy and black. “We can eat together.”

“Just a bite then.”

Turning to Yoongi, you don’t see a change in his face as he eyes the road. The veins in his arm catch all the streetlight, and you gulp before your gaze falls to what he made. Music fills the car, and you decide that maybe you do feel a little hungry. So you listen to instruction, popping it open and being careful as you pluck a piece to try.

There’s no denying it. This motherfucker is a chef. “Fuck, this is good.��

Your borderline moan sends Yoongi’s shoulders bobbing, and you will never get over those low, gravelly laughs. “Sorry.” Your hand hovers over your mouth in embarrassment. “I don’t react like that unless I’m alone.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, well,” you swallow. “Course you don’t.”

A tiny peek of teeth show as Yoongi smiles, and you don’t expect what he offers next, “Just be you, doll. It’s just me.”

The next bite of food pauses on the way to your mouth. “Oh,” you murmur. “Same for you then.”

“Nah.”

“Why not?”

“Cus we wouldn’t make it to where we’re going.”

That was legitimately the worst time to put food in your mouth. Sputtering, your words come out low and chortled, “You fucker.”

His hisses are brief before he dips into silence again. As he slowly turns the wheel, you can see a glimpse of something deep in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly apologizes, swallowing as you keep your gaze.

What is that look? Weren’t you both just having a good time? “For what, baby?”

“Everything.”

Your lungs flinch. This is definitely not what you expected to hear on the way to wherever the hell you’re going. “Oh.”

Yoongi still doesn’t look your way, and with each pass of a light over his face, you catch quick snapshots of those eyes you’re still so shy of. “I, umm. I didn’t expect shit to pan out this way.”

“It’s okay,” you whisper.

After a slow motion of disagreement, his head falls forward just a bit. And your eyes find his hand clutching the gear shift in what you sadly think is frustration. “I’ve just thought about some things,” he starts, another song playing. “How worried you must’ve been.”

You look forward. Because this is the part where you can’t face him. “I was. But not for the same reason as last time.” Without a hesitation of your own, your palm reaches between your seats. And you can tell Yoongi watches as you take his hand to hold.

“I was worried about you,” you correct with softness. “It was hard because I didn’t know what to do.” Don’t fucking cry. You filled quite a few buckets already. “When you started not really saying much, I just… Hoped it was for a good reason, so. Yeah.”

You feel your hand gently pulled, which is already enough to make you melt. But when it’s kissed, you don’t know what the hell to fucking do.

“I’m sorry, doll,” Yoongi whispers into your skin, lips brushing with every syllable and painting a canvas of his reconcile. “I won’t leave you hanging like that again.”

There’s a tiny fire in the back of your throat, the embers reaching your eyes just a little too aggressively. You attempt to squash the growing flames before they flare. “Oh. Umm. Thank you.” What else do you say? Yoongi’s being wonderful, but why do you feel… sad? Why is there lingering snow on your windowsill? “Were you worried?”

“Me? Umm.” He stops at a light that he clearly didn’t want to stop at. Resting your conjoined hands on his pliant thigh, his jaw works as he observes them.

And you wonder if he thinks they slot together perfectly, too.

“…Yeah.”

Fuck. “About what?”

“That you’d hate me.”

Your heart meshes his fingers with yours. “Yoongi.”

“Or that you shouldn’t be with someone that’s gone this much.”

Fuck, he’s doing it again. Regressing. You’ve seen it happen in his kitchen and you’ll be damned if all that work, all that peeling, all that resolution amounted to nothing wait, wait, stop. This isn’t gonna be an overnight fix. And you have no clue what’s been happening, so just keep trying, trying, trying.

“I’m used to people leaving,” you joke, but not really. “Like seasons.”

He whips his head to you, and you backpedal because that probably sounded so random. You’ve got to think about filtering your thoughts a little more now that you’re getting comfortable. Yoongi says you can be yourself, sure, but you have to admit your quirks are a little out there. “I know it’s weird, but..”

He’s quiet as the light turns green. And when you don’t finish, he admits, “I think the same.”

“You do?”

Your hand is brushed as a hum peppers it from above. “Mmhmm.”

“Well.” That’s interesting. You didn’t know anyone thought about that stuff like you did. Now you wonder if there’s anywhere else your wavelengths sync, and if they’ve been syncing up all this time. “At least you come back.”

Yoongi squeezes your hand tight before he holds it against his lips. Again. Fuck, this is a lot. You’re so wrapped up in his gesture that you don’t catch what he whispers.

“Hmm?”

He glances at the center console before putting your hand back on his thigh.

“Always, doll.”

And the fire you stepped on rages back with a vengeance. Heat and sting surrounds your eyes, and you don’t hide how you press your feelings into his skin. “Me, too.”

If you weren’t lost in the surrounding scenery outside, you would have caught Yoongi’s look. But all you feel is his hand clutching you tight, and it breaks you down all the same.

The rest of the drive is spent with him telling you to eat more, and a bunch of your sing-alongs to almost every song that comes on. It seems like the tiny bit of closure opened you both up, and you don’t even realize that you’ve been on the road for a really long time.

But finally, Yoongi pulls up to a building, and you’re haphazardly rapping along to a song before you notice. Wait. What? He drove you to a rec center?

Your fingers curl around his forearm before you even notice. “What’s this?”

“Where we’re going.”

Hold on, you’re going inside? “Are we even allowed to be here?”

When Yoongi responds, his teeth make you shiver as he smirks. “Can’t say for sure, no.”

“Then why—”

He unlocks before you can finish, and you’re left in an empty car until he rounds the hood, coming over to your side and opening the door. You almost don’t hear what he says next, too focused on the jewelry swinging from his neck as he bends forward.

But you catch it, and glance once more at the sight in front of you before biting your lip—in nervousness or excitement, you can’t decide.

“You comin’?”

Damn. Obviously, you want nothing more than to see him here. And it’s much too late for anyone to be around. But if something happens… Whatever.

Your mouth finally unsticks. “If we get caught, you’re gonna pay for this.”

And you can’t resist his stupid grin. “Now get your pretty ass out before I put you in the back.”

“Yoongi!”

Grinning, he leads you out, and you follow him to the trunk. After bouncing his stowed ball a couple times, he decides to lean in and reach for something else.

Wait. Is that what you think it is? “Did you always have that in there?” you ask, pointing to the contraption that Yoongi’s using to air up his basketball.

And he does a horrible job at suppressing a smile. Which makes you burst into flutters and beats beats beats. “You liar!” Oh, you are gonna wipe those laughs from his throat. “I had to change up my plans because of you!”

Palming the ball, Yoongi tilts his head dangerously to one side. “And I got to see you,” he proudly claims. “So I’ll take it.”

You hate how the memories come packaged with what’s haunted you. What else happened during that time, and what happened after you left. But there’s no way you’re gonna bring that up. Not when the night has transformed into something so magical.

So you just clutch your food and lean on his car, opting to compliment him to wipe the murk away. “Got to see you, too,” you puff into the brisk night. Because you harbor a bit of nostalgia in your bones. And because he still makes you shy. “You and your stupid hair.”

Another bout of hisses wisp into your side. As you turn to regard Yoongi again, he slips his chains into his hoodie before continuing, and you swoon at the veins popping out of his skin with each pump.

How can he look so perfect doing the simplest things? So unfair.

After seconds that feel like an hour, Yoongi’s done. And he scans the parking lot before telling you to follow him.

What you expect is some outdoor courts. Maybe getting past a gate or two. So when you approach a back door lit by the shine of a single light, you freeze. “Are we really going in?”

Fishing something out of his pocket, Yoongi simply turns over his shoulder. “Yeah. Why not?”

“Oh.” You didn’t think you’d actually get inside the building. If there was an outside court just as accessible it would’ve made sense. Can you even bring food in here? Is that question even relevant? “No reason.”

“So I shouldn’t bust in?”

Huh. “What?”

“I’ve already done it a few times, so.”

“Wait!” Nerves throw your hand on his bicep before you can stop. “What if someone sees us?”

He’s so warm. And so toned. And if he plans on taking his hoodie off? You’re not prepared for whatever the hell he has underneath.

Voice softened, Yoongi tries to placate your paranoia, “They won’t, doll.”

“Are you sure? If we get caught here they’re gonna call the police and I am definitely not… Gonna…”

The object in his hand jangles, and you clearly see he was just joking the whole time because keys—keys—stare you in the face.

What is it with him and keys?

When Yoongi speaks, you feel like you’ve never done anything bad in your life, and suddenly the thought of trespassing with an official way in is so scandalous,

“You picked the wrong night to be a good girl.”

You have to admit. Seeing him so mischievous and dashing makes you wanna follow him wherever the hell he goes. Even if it gets you in trouble. Even if you were breaking in tonight, you would be all in. And that thought should frighten you, but it only does because of the wings tickling your rib cage.

How can he make you feel rebellious and yet still so shy? The power of Min Yoongi. He’s way too good at destroying you.

When you glare, the man only grins, hisses of laughter leaving him way too happily before he unlocks the door to no alarms or sirens. He doesn’t need to throw a wink your way, too, but of course he does as he lets you in. Which causes you to float through the dark entryway instead of walk oh he did not just slap your ass!

A jolt in your cunt causes you to regard him in shock. To which he hums in a feigned question. “Hmm?”

With nothing but darkness and his cologne surrounding you, it’s only natural that giddiness takes hold. Truthfully, you’re packed with so much adrenaline that you feel a little wild yourself. “You’ve been waiting to do that, huh.”

“So fucking long.”

You are not surviving the night. And you don’t give a single shit.

But as shy and out of control as you feel around this man, you also feel safe—even in a faraway, dark building that you’ve never been in before. That’s gotta say something about him, right?

Yoongi feels along the wall beside you for lights, purposefully bumping your chest with his front even though he’s securing a ball with an arm. When you question his joking decision with noises, a chaste kiss on your lips shuts you right up.

“You’re in the way,” he jokes through what you think is a smile, and you’re about to move when he flicks on a switch very far away from your shoulder.

Liar! Your jaw drop must be comical because Yoongi’s grin stretches astronomically wide. But you cannot find a retort because seeing him so chill while you’re stiff from paranoia has you at a loss.

Is this how he used to be all the time? This carefree, all caution to the wind? He’s so fucking handsome like this. No wonder he’s pulled so many hearts just like yours.

When you still don’t find any words to say, Yoongi makes it harder, stepping so close that you have to swing the plastic container away. Taking one of your hands in his free one, he gives it a warm squeeze while murmuring,

“You’re so cute.”

“How,” you ask just as softly.

And Yoongi responds with lights in his eyes. “Just are.”

Your lips mesh with his as he keeps your fingers secured, and suddenly every cautious thing in your body gets launched into the skies, too.

But it ends as soon as it begins. And Yoongi backs away from you with a smile,

“Eat.”

“Huh?”

“Eat, doll,” he orders before turning and dribbling onto the court.

When you call out that he hasn’t eaten yet, Yoongi tells you that he already did. When you look around to figure out where to even sit, you decide on the closest set of bleachers and make yourself as comfortable as you can.

Which is impossible. Because they’re bleachers. Which is now triple impossible. Because Yoongi just shucked off his hoodie and the only thing he had under it was his chains goddamn it.

If you weren’t already sitting down you would’ve fallen right into the next dimension. How the fuck are you supposed to eat in these conditions shit he’s walking over!

Your throat seizes as Yoongi approaches, face trained as if he isn’t aware of his overwhelming presence. All he does is bend to place his sweater next to your legs. But the quick smooch on your lips makes you swoon harder than you ever have.

And the way his silver taps your chest makes you mentally hold on for dear life. Wait. What the fuck, Yoongi’s taking them off right now? Right in front of you? Just as you're supposed to eat oh okay he’s handing them to you great wonderful fantastic.

The metal links feel so warm yet slightly cold to the touch. Weighty, yet light. But you clutch them in your hand as you connect a gaze to his.

“Relax,” he orders, lightly slapping the side of your thigh. “No need to worry.”

And with bangs swishing, he goes right back to the ball waiting for him. Leaving you starry-eyed to hell with silver in your palm.

…Did all of that just happen? Is any of this even real? Quite frankly, you fucking forgot what you were even worried about.

No matter what he does—simple lay-ups standing in place, dribbling to different spots to shoot, or even lazily jogging after the ball—you’re so enthralled with his actions that you forget that you’re not supposed to be here.

And it takes your last bite of food for something to finally hit you. How does Yoongi have keys to this place? Where the hell did he score those because you don’t think he ever mentioned anything about working here. Or anywhere else other than the studio.

Yet another mystery to add to this walking, bare-chested enigma.

But there’s another question forming behind your eyes the longer you watch him practice, the more you notice how he’s actually going hard. Yoongi’s really good right now. A lot better than what you’ve seen of him before.

Has he been coming here more often than he’s let on? And why does he look so… serious? You’d be surprised if he even remembered you’re here.

Setting your empty container down, you gather the chains in your hands again, deciding to slip them over your head for safer keeping. After, you grab a water before stepping down the bleachers, hanging a little ways away until Yoongi notices you’re courtside.

And when he sees you, he stops practicing immediately, jogging to you so sweaty and shining and gross and handsome and— “Wait, you’re all swea—”

You’re pulled into a kiss the same time you hear a basketball drop, salt on your tongue and damp palms on your cheeks. And you melt right into the shiny wood floor, drifting, drifting, sailing into dreamland even though you’re technically already there.

“Sweaty,” you whisper into his hot breaths of exertion, a twinge between your legs when he kisses you even deeper—breathing, inhaling, taking you in. “Gross.”

“Thanks.”

You flash a smile against Yoongi’s lips, giggling because this is all better than anything your brain could’ve conjured on its own. When you ask why he’s going so hard, all you get is a question in return,

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

Huh? Blinking, you suddenly don’t remember your own train of thought. “What did I do?”

“Nothing.” He presses a wet mouth to your nose. “Did you eat?”

Laughing, you reassure him, “I did, I did.”

“Good. You bored?”

“Huh?”

Yoongi leans to softly take your lips this time, and you want to say he’s approaching the legal limit for kisses tonight. “Thought you came over cus you wanna leave.”

“And stop seeing you play? I could watch this forever.” You squeeze the water bottle a little tighter. “Just checking on you.” Another strike hits between your legs when Yoongi takes another, lazier glide over your mouth, and you sigh when he tugs you forward by your bottoms, fingers slick from use.

You could do this for eternity, too.

“Well I got about five more minutes in me, so..”

This man.

“Forever might be a stretch.”

“Ah, shut up. Here,” you offer through a giggle, holding the water out for him to take.

“Thanks.” When he does, he tilts his head at just the right angle to cut you through, gulping down liquid and making you do the same to your nothingness.

So unfair. “You looked like you were going pretty hard.”

Lowering the bottle, Yoongi shifts his jaw before taunting something a ways off. “I kinda was.”

“It was kinda hot.”

His laugh makes you smile, and his next swig makes you weep. “Nah, but. This is our practice gym. I can just zone out here, so. It’s been one of those things.”

Ah. Was this one of the places Yoongi ended up during those months apart? You wish he could’ve brought you along sometimes. Or at least thought about asking. It’s nice just to be around him while he does something he likes. Gaining courage, you say exactly what’s on your mind, “You can always bring me, too. If you want.”

And it’s true. You don’t really have to do much when you’re with him, because just being around him is what brightens your day. Lifts your mood.

But you have to admit that watching him play basketball while shirtless is the biggest fucking win in history.

When did Yoongi get so close? When did his eyes retreat so far away? “I didn’t wanna bother you with this,” he admits, a drop of sweat clinging onto his chin. “I don’t even put music on.”

“You never bother me,” you whisper back. Hoping that he believes you and that he will start to accept that as fact. Because it is. “Even if you’re being annoying.”

The bottle crinkles as he smiles, and there’s a soft kiss to your lips that has no real desire behind it. Just a nice peck that sends you careening down a hill of flowers. “You won’t be feeling that way tomorrow, babe.”

“And why is that?”

“Cus of what I’m wearing.”

And he says that while half-naked? Like any look on him could get any worse. “Oh,” you scoff out, fully calling his bluff. “As if.”

Well, fuck. You don’t enjoy the smirk plastered on his face. It has you both dreading and excited for whatever demon you’re gonna run into tomorrow. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He shrugs as he starts to hand the water back. “We can go soon, by the way.”

“Okay.”

But before you can grab it, Yoongi pulls the bottle from reach. “Unless,” he teases. “You wanna play me.”

“What.”

His grin shines, face glistening and turning your insides to jelly. “You told me you’d win, so. Let’s see it.”

You said that? While sober? How does he remember something like that when you can’t even recall a time or place you’d tell him something so bold. “When!”

“Right after you woke up once. Said you’re a master?”

Oh. That was ages ago. Fuck, you already forgot how did Yoongi remember?

“Oh. Well.” Your nose turns up in feigned haughtiness. “Wouldn’t wanna throw you off your game before a championship.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’d make you cry what the fuck!”

Water spills down your head in rivulets as you freeze, stunned and watching Yoongi jogging his laughs back to the bleachers like a punk. “Think you got something on your face, doll.”

“Yoongi!” What the hell possessed him to do that to you here? Racing after him with purpose, you slam into him just as he reaches for another bottle, shoving a laugh out of his throat and making him catch himself on hardwood. “Nu uh, gimme that!”

“It’s mine, I just ran out—”

“Bitch!” You lunge for another bottle lying further away, distancing yourself to quickly rip the cap off and to avoid feeling his slick back on your hands.

And it’s a lawless gym as both of you start spraying water, arcs and splashes of bottled liquid spewing over the court and soaking into your clothes and his bare skin. Which proves to get worse and worse for your wellbeing the more he gets soaked in your attacks.

Running ends up being the only option to avoid getting completely drenched, and you hightail it behind bleachers before your waist is grabbed. “Fuck!”

“Uh huh.”

You try to wrestle out of his hold, his wet forearm digging lovely into your stomach, and you’re temporarily let go just so Yoongi can spin you around.

Your back connects with solid wall, the impact shooting a grunt out of your throat before you laugh out of pure disbelief. “I can’t believe, you got me to do that,” you rush out, sentence punctuated by your breaths more than anything else.

Here you are. Under bleachers. With Yoongi’s skin caging you with radiating heat.

You can only stare as he drinks you in, no doubt looking at his silver around your neck and your chest heaving from exertion. Butterflies float across your stomach when his smile drips, and you fold as soon as he swoops in.

Everything in your being pulses hard. It’s so visceral that you teeter on the edge of sanity and logic, and the thoughts slipping through your mind are just as wild as you feel. Before you’re even aware of it, a mischievous finger slides along the hem of his shorts, and you jump at the downright boulders rolling down your front,

“Careful, doll.”

“Hmm?” You feel bad. And it feels fantastic. “What was that?”

More gravel slides down his tongue, and you shake at his attractive as fuck threat, “Fuck around and find out then.”

Your giggles add feather lightness into his murky laughs, but you’re so preoccupied that you don’t notice his hand between your legs until he slaps the inside of your thigh. “Yoo—!”

“Unless.” He leans forward. “My baby’s too scared.”

Holy fuck, you might be. Is he really willing to do something with you? In a public place very similar to where you’re gonna watch him play tomorrow? You don’t know why the fuck that’s attractive as hell, but it is.

Yoongi grips your chin, eyes falling to your lips and brows knitted before claiming your lips even harder. And despite your bones vibrating to hell, you put your all into the kiss, relishing in the growing hardness you feel against your front. An animal starts to wake inside your core, and you almost feel like stroking it. Feeding it. Raising it only for it to consume you in return.

“Fuck it, we’re leaving.”

“Huh?” Dazed, you let your vision refocus as Yoongi chuckles at your hazy state.

“Fuck this. I’m taking you home.”

For some reason, the game makes you nervous today. Even while Taehyung strides into the gymnasium with you, there’s a lingering feeling swelling in your stomach, and you don’t have any reason for it yet.

At least this is another rec center entirely. Because there’s no way you would’ve sat still knowing you had a clandestine meeting in the same place not even twenty-four hours before.

But the activity already bustling around hardwood catches your attention. Not on both sides, since only one team is here, but they are active on the other end doing drills.

Wow. They look really intimidating, matching jerseys that were clearly done professionally and warm-ups having a set routine. You wonder if this is gonna be a tough game for… Wait. That’s your brother under the basket. That’s them?

Fucking hell, Yoongi was right.

Because you’ll already never get over how attractive he looks in athletic clothes.

But team jerseys?

Seeing this man rock a basketball uniform with his toned arms and legs so visible makes you want to claw your way out of your invisible cage.

When the hell did they even get those? And why is he already slightly drenched during the warm-up alone?

As soon as you see him make a lay-up, you know for a fact that you shouldn’t be here.

Yes, you’re gonna stay and yes, you’re gonna cheer for them all game. But you are absolutely gonna feel like jumping him, which will in turn make you wanna bolt and run all the way out of town every agonizing second.

Shit, shit, shit. You’re gonna have to try your damned hardest to unstick your eyes from that man the whole time. Already, you can hear Taehyung’s teasing, and your groan is to lament your future state.

Your name suddenly rings across the gym, and four feet pause in your ascent up the bleachers. When you catch both him and Jimin waving you down from their courtside chairs, you tilt your head in intrigue.

They want you to come over there? What the hell is this about?

Sighing, you turn. “Guess I’ll go see what they want.”

“Here,” Tae offers his hand. “I’ll save you a seat.”

Your bag is transferred to his grip while you nod, and you step down onto the court, wondering if you’re even allowed to walk onto it to see them. And Jimin’s grin can be seen from miles away. “Come here!”

You gingerly step onto shiny wooden floors, making your way over and becoming hyper aware that someone else notices your presence. But you’re so puzzled as to why there’s no one on the other side of the court yet because isn’t the game about to start?

Where’s the other team? As you approach their row of chairs, your hands immediately find your hips. “What’s up?”

Jimin’s eyes stay creased as your brother explains the reason he waved you down. A very stupid, very innocuous reason. “Can you keep score?”

“Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why me?”

Your brother uses his jersey to wipe sweat from his brow, and you wince at the brand new material getting gross already. “The girl that usually does it for us is sick.”

“And you know the game,” Jimin quickly tacks on, rubbing at some tattoos on full display. Wait, are there more than you remember? When did he get more ink?

Your sibling asks another question you had in mind, “You aren’t gonna cover those?”

“Nah. Not today,” the man elongates in a stretch. “Just got another one. This one!”

Ah, you were right. “I like it.”

Jimin couldn’t look more proud. But enough of that because you really just wanna go back and observe the game from another place entirely. “Can’t y’all find someone else to keep score?”

“We don’t think anyone else can,” your brother explains, looking over your shoulder. “At least, not the people coming to watch us.”

Cool. You get to be met with heat and sweat from all these guys without compensation. How is this something you would say yes to? “Well. I don’t really feel like being a scorekeeper for free.”

When your sibling laughs with Jimin, they share a look before he says so matter-of-factly, “Told you.”

You’re sticking with that. If you’re gonna sit next to a bunch of smelly people, they’re gonna pay… you… somehow.

A ways down the row, you catch Yoongi dumping himself onto a random chair, head tilted back before he hangs it forward to wipe sweat from his forehead.

And suddenly this temporary gig doesn’t seem terrible in the slightest.

Because one, you can sit on a team bench that will have his fine ass right there. And two, this will give you a way to objectively focus on the game. You won’t have time to be distracted by a demon and his hair that’s gotten criminally long.

“I’ll get us all dinner,” your sibling slices through your thoughts. “After we win.”

“Fine,” you sigh, taking the end seat and shooting one more glance to the other side of the court. “Then I get to p—”

The air around you squeezes inward. And all sounds plunge underwater.

Because you recognize someone you knew from a dark club walking onto the court, his team looking just as sharp and cocky as his eyes.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You don’t notice the way Jimin’s hands flex, nor the way a familiar presence walks up to join your brother.

All you can do is stare back.

And without even realizing.

You’re already rubbing your arm.

tbc. :((

a ha ha... so how do we feel? | taglist | discord!

a/n: okay, hello, loves. apologies this part took so damn long to post! can you imagine if i tried to post everything at once LMAOO yikes talk about too much at once. but i hope this part was enough to still be good on its own, and broken, pt. 2 will be... well. you can probably guess that's where a majority of my brainpower is going to go. a/n 2: thank you all for being here! it's been an amazing two years working on this series and i cannot tell you how grateful and appreciative i am to have such wonderful people alongside me. i hope this series continues to be there for you when you need it, bc it has become that for me, too. ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

#ITS FINALLY HEREEE #SHEESH #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts reactions #filter for fics:#*ryenfictalk #yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #three tangerines #3tan11 #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #btsfic #*latest #ryenwrites

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tears-of-amber · 9 months

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Hearth & Home Witchcraft That I've Learned

One of the biggest things that stands out to me when reading about hearth & home witchery is that everyday items are considered magical. Everyday moments, tasks, and chores as well. Its a beautiful way to live, if you really think about it. Big rituals are great, but as someone who is disabled, they rarely are doable. Here is a list of Hearth & Home Witchcraft Tips that i actually practice.

-Enchant a blanket by embroidering a sigil in the corner and using its color correspondences for your needs. It also helps me feel shielded from negative energy during meditation.

-Play music that makes you feel safe and AT HOME. This is almost like grounding, but also can be cleansing to the environment and especially the listeners. For me, its smooth jazz. The chill sound of the standup bass and the wandering piano notes that always seem to find their way to a comfortable key... its soothing to my soul.

-Talk to and about your home (kindly). So often its easy to complain about your living space. How you wish it looked or functioned differently. The house (in my belief) hears you. Treat it with kindness and gratitude for the shelter it provides. I say thank you to the house spirits and my home every morning.

-Find a convenient home protection ritual to do each month. I say convenient because if you overcomplicate things you'll feel less enthusiastic and less motivated to do it, and might even skip several months.

-Make a home cleansing spray using essential oils mixed with an appropriate amount of moon water. I like using a few drops of lemon, rosemary, lavender, and cinnamon. DO NOT spray this in the vicinity of your pets. I only use this spray in rooms where there arent any animals, to avoid complications with their health.

-Wash your bedding as often as you can and say a short incantation before you put it in the wash. It could go something like this. "I cleanse this bedding of all negative energy, from bad dreams, and from and all stress." Sleep is so important to your sense of safety and wellbeing at home.

-Open the damn windows when you can! Stagnant energy is known for dragging down people's moods. And there's nothing quite as uplifting as fresh air. This provides a healthy flow to your house's energy.

-Don't bring things in your home unless you want to incorporate their energy into your environment. This is something that's often overlooked. I especially advise heavy consideration when it comes to thrifting items and bringing them home. Try practicing sensing the energy of items so you can easily tell whats good to bring home and whats not. Thrifting is great! Im not discouraging it btw.

-Fresh flowers work miracles. Not only do they aesthetically brighten the room, but their correspondences and magical properties apply to the room that they're in. Sunflowers are a great example of a flower that encourages positivity, and are extremely affordable to get lots of them. Roses are a bit more expensive usually, but they invite that loving vibe. And African irises are great for psychic enhancement.

Thats all for this post! Reblog it if you found it helpful, or have any of your own cool practices for hearth & home witchcraft to share!

#witchcraft #witchblr #witchy #witch #hearth witch #spirituality #pagan #paganism #hearth magic #hearth and home #home witchcraft #simple witch tips #witchy vibes #witch tips #baby witches

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itadore-you · 3 months

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show, don't tell

pairing: itadori yuuji x fem!reader (side note i wrote this with her wearing a skirt in mind btw) content: smut (basically netflix & chill)!! & mdni plsss w/c: 1.8k a/n: trying to get back into writing. thoughts of yuuji have ravaged my mind for the past 2 months straight

♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡

Thinking about your casual nights with Yuuji, the ones where the rest of your friends are off doing something else, leaving the two of you alone at last.

This seems to happen a lot more recently, and you just can't put your finger on why. His place is just so comforting, despite how small it is, and its clutter. You know he's been saving up recently to afford a better place. Those extra hours he's been putting in as a part-timer are starting to show their effects. It started off with him missing the group's Thursday nights out, when he opted to stay in and rest instead. You asked him if it was okay for you to come over and check on him since you hadn't seen him in a while, and soon it became a habit to stay in with Yuuji. Sometimes you'd even share a home-cooked meal because he didn't have enough time to cook dinner. One thing was for sure though, you would always stay for hours longer than expected, both of you reluctant to say goodbye.

It's late, so he doesn't want you walking home by yourself at this time. He would walk you home anyway, but isn't it so much easier to stay over at his instead? He had just finished cooking a late-night comfort meal before you came over, and there's enough for the two of you - such a coincidence, isn't it?

And the winter makes it so, so cold. You can't help leaning into his arms after settling down to watch a movie on his laptop. Pirating wasn't a good idea - you've offered your Netflix subscription to Yuuji a couple of times, but he still refuses to take you up on it, because that's the thing about Yuuji; he always, always is willing to give, but never take. The way that you're lying down on him right now - back pressed against his firm chest while his arms wrap around your centre - makes it hard for you to turn from the screen and look at him. You want to start something. You want to take this somewhere. But you don't know if he does. It's been a couple of months, being in this weird limbo with Yuuji. It started off with you just wanting to be around him more. Wanting to talk to him more. Not just more, but every day. Wanting to touch him, feel him, taste him.

But that's the thing about starting off as friends. If he didn't feel the same way, then that would end everything. And Yuuji was a great friend. Always there for you, kind to others but still always somehow makes you feel special, could make you laugh but would never make you cry. You can't let him go! You don't want to mess this up. Meeting him is one of the best things that ever happened to you.

Your heart can't help but beat a little bit faster when you hear Yuuji's light laugh - it's at some witty one-liner from the sidekick character. You didn't even hear the joke, but you're smiling a little too much as you can feel the heave of Yuuji's chest from behind you. Eventually, you break into laughter too, both of you are laughing so hard together that your sides hurt. This is when you choose to sneak a glance at Yuuji, when he's in such a state of pure joy, that tears collect in the corners of his eyes and almost trickle down his cheek.

He's so adorable.

You reach over to wipe them off for him, and his laughter dwindles, trying to keep steady for you. But there goes that handsome smile again, as he locks eyes with you, making your hand a little more unsteady.

"Sorry," he murmurs, still chuckling a little as he averts his eyes. 'Nervous laughing', as he calls it, is a typical response for Yuuji. It's when he laughs hard, unapologetically, and without restraint. It makes you wonder if he'd love you like that, too.

"The joke wasn't even that funny! I just..." His sentence trails off and he looks away, again. At this point, you have completely no idea what's going on in the movie's plot. No way you're letting him get away without finishing that sentence.

"Yuu? What were you going to-"

He chuckles nervously again, shaking his head. "Nothing, nothing. Just sit back and enjoy the film. I like holding you like this."

"Yuuji." You tilt yourself so you can take hold of his face, almost as if you're forcing him to choke out his words. "You can tell me anything. Literally. Anything."

You can practically see the cogs turning in Yuuji's brain as he thinks through his response. Yuuji runs a hand quickly through his unruly pink hair before he speaks again.

"I - No, I mean, it's just that I like spending time with you. A lot. I just-" Yuuji sighs, then continues, "I want to show you what I mean. I don't think I can really say it how I want to."

"Go on."

"But you don't know what I mean...?"

"Well there's one way I can find out," you tease him. You're really, really hoping that he's implying what you think he is.

"Okay."

"Okay?

"Yeah. Okay then."

He takes another deep breath in as you lean against his chest, and the arms wrapped around you now wander, until his hands interlace with yours. Yuuji's voice is a tone quieter as he asks 'Is this okay?' and you answer with a quick squeeze of his hand and a nod. Everyone knows that Yuuji is that one touchy-feely friend, always offering hugs and slinging an arm over your shoulder, but the way he touches you now feels different. The atmosphere has changed. Your heart is beating so fast now, you can't pull your eyes away from the screen to look at him. Even though you want him to keep going, you want to show that you want him just as badly. So instead you move his hand to rest on your thigh, firmly placing yours on top. You can tell that Yuuji is holding his breath at this point, taken by surprise at how forward you are. Maybe you should give him some time before you do anything else.

But only a couple of minutes pass by before Yuuji makes his next move. His fingers curl tighter around your thigh as he kisses your neck. It's a light peck, to test the waters, before he kisses you once more, moving along your neck. On your jawline. Languidly moving up to your cheek, his lips are soft but a little chapped as they taste your skin.

So you lean your head towards his, capturing his lips in a short-lived kiss. Both of you are hesitating because once you go this far, you can't come back. But it's so clear that you now both want each other. The realisation makes you start to bite the inside of your cheek as you turn around quickly to keep watching the movie - Yuuji wants you back. Just as much as you want him. Even though you know this, it still doesn't feel real.

Have you made things awkward? You didn't mean to. It all just happened so quickly, the blur of a kiss and a glimpse of his soft brown eyes. You didn't mean to turn away, you want to continue. His hands clasp yours worriedly.

"Y/n? Are you sure this is okay?" His voice wavers as he fiddles with the rings on your fingers. If you want to go further with Yuuji, then you're going to have to show him.

"Yes, Yuuji. I want you to."

With that, you place his hands on the inside of your thighs. "Please."

He nods from behind you, going slightly rigid for a moment at how breathy you sound asking for him. "Okay."

Then he starts to really touch you. Massaging the inside of your thighs as he murmurs that you should 'keep watching the film'. You're holding your breath every time he drifts further and further up, and you're struggling to focus on the screen; opting to fix your eyes on the subtitles instead. He stops from time to time, only to restart lightly brushing his fingers over the tops of your thighs, and eventually, his fingers disappear underneath the hem of your skirt, still going higher. You can't help trying to look at Yuuji from the corner of your eye - is there a light blush on his cheeks?

"Pay attention, this is the good part," he whispers to you, gently taking hold of your face to keep your eyes trained on the screen.

You start to relax in Yuuji's arms until, just for a moment, he grazes over your underwear, right against your clit. The brief contact with such a sensitive part of you makes you jump a little, as if every nerve on your body lit on fire at the same time. You want more, and this slow tension has been killing you inside. And Yuuji knows it.

"Just relax into me. I'm going to make you feel good," he whispers, as he rests his fingers on your clit again, beginning to trace small circles onto it. With each and every movement, Yuuji is precise, and he can feel your wetness through the fabric. He presses a couple more kisses onto the side of your neck every time he stops touching you, teasing you over and over to delay your orgasm. He can tell that you're feeling especially close when you try to cross your legs, forcing his hand even closer to you, but his steady hands stop you every time. You're positive that your panties are completely soaked through at this point, but it gets even better. Yuuji's deft fingers then pull your panties aside, and they delve into you.

A thumb is kept steady on your clit, whilst he pumps his fingers into you. Yuuji never goes beyond a certain speed, making sure that you feel each and every stroke of his fingers against your walls. Your soft gasps of his name spur him on as he starts to suck on the side of your neck, thrusting deeper with his fingers until he finds your sweet spot - the part of you that is most sensitive. You cry out when he curls his fingers directly up into your g-spot again; It's impossible to hold back anymore.

When you cum, your body almost goes limp - Yuuji groans lowly in response, feeling the way how your hole contracts around his fingers. He can only imagine how that tightness would feel around his dick. He is slow to pull his fingers away from you, still slowly pumping them in and out after your orgasm.

"Fuck... Yuuji....."

His heart tightens in his chest at how breathless you are, how weak you are for him.

"Do you get what I was trying to say before ...?"

"Yes, Yuuji. Yes."

That's all he needs to hear for now. The end credits of the movie will roll soon; whatever has begun between the two of you, is to be continued.

#yuuji x reader #yuuji smut #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori yuuji smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk drabbles #yuji x reader #yuji smut #yuji x you #itadori x reader #itadori smut

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a-coffee-addict-613 · 1 month

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Cold hands - Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader, a short fic

Summary : reader's hands are cold and Ghost is tired of hearing her complain about it, so he offers to warm them up for her so she will shut up; except he gets more than he expected...

CW: smut, that's it; oh and bag language

"It's cold as hell," she whispered into the night. Ghost stood beside her; they were both keeping watch while the others slept in their tents a bit farther behind them.

"Freaking hell, my hands are like ice blocks, I'm freezing," she said shortly after her last comment. This had been going on for a while; she had been constantly complaining about being cold, or at least that was how Ghost was experiencing it.

"Stop complaining," he said, short and cold, almost like an order, cutting through the air.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not trained for this stuff like you guys, so I have the right to complain," she huffed, trying to bury her nose underneath her scarf.

"That's not how it works," he replied with a sigh.

After that, she did not say anything more, but she was still getting on Ghost's nerves because she couldn't keep still, rocking up and down on her heels, pacing around, and constantly blowing on her hands to try to warm them up.

Ghost let out an inaudible groan and begrudgingly said, "If I find a way to warm you up a bit, will you shut up and stop moving?" He didn't even deign himself to look at her.

"Dude, if you do that, I think I'd marry you," she laughed, blowing on her hands for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"Just stop," he said, and with that, he grabbed one of her wrists and guided it to his abdomen where he had lifted up his shirt. After all, body heat is the most efficient way to warm up.

She hesitated, even if she was yearning to put her hands on Ghost's perfect abs. "Are you sure...?" she mumbled, looking up at Ghost. They were so close now; she had never stood so close to Ghost in a non-combat way.

He did not answer, only hummed and tugged on her wrist again, still in his grasp, to bring it even closer to his bare skin. She did not hesitate this time; she splayed both hands on his hot skin, and she could not contain herself; his warmth thawed out her fingers almost instantly, and a small sigh of relief escaped her mouth.

He couldn't help but smile at the way she sighed when his warmth reached her hands, despite the shiver that coursed through his body. He was glad the mask hid his smile; he couldn't afford a distraction like her, even if she *was* a pretty distraction.

"Hurry," he huffed out instead, the sooner she was done, the sooner he would be rid of her hold on him, one he couldn't seem to shake off.

"Fine, fine," she all but brushed him off. She moved her hands further up, grazing his ribs, searching for warmer skin. This time, she felt the chill that crossed his skin. Little did she know that it was not the cold that made him shiver.

"Careful," his voice cut through the air; it had a dangerous undertone that made her look up and look into his eyes for the first time since they started this whole thing.

This time, it was she who did not answer; she simply decided to head in the opposite direction. And so, ever so slowly, she slid her hand back down to their starting place, but she did not stop there; she continued further down, over his V. She did all this while maintaining eye contact with Ghost, a bold move because, honestly, he could be quite intimidating.

She kept going, allowing her hand to fall to his belt. After two beats of hesitation and due to the fact that Ghost remained unmoving, she unbuckled his belt, popped open his pants, and slithered her hands inside. Inside his boxers, not his pants.

Upon her still freezing hands making contact with his soft cock and balls, which she cupped with both hands, it broke Ghost's stone-cold demeanor. He hissed loudly and let out, "That's freezing, Doc," his British accent thicker than usual.

"I'm just following your orders, Lieutenant," she answered cheekily, her eyes holding a mischievous smile. She used one of her now warm hands to cup his balls while the other traveled to wrap around his cock, which was now not so soft. She began stroking it leisurely, slowly making it harder by the second, her hand squeezing his head each time her fist traveled up, her thumb stroking it every time.

"You are playing a dangerous game," Ghost whispered, but despite his words, he brought both hands up to rest on her hips.

"My hands are warm now, but.... I think that my lips are cold; maybe you could help me with that too..." she murmured, a small smile on her face, as if she wasn't asking permission to do such an obscene thing.

There was a small silence, one where Ghost was having an inner struggle, but eventually his non-logical brain won, and with a groan, he said, "Be quick about it."

She did not need him to say it twice; she dropped to her knees, no longer caring about the cold ground hitting her knees. All she cared about was finally doing something that she had fantasized about for so long.

NB: maybe I'll write a part 2 to this, you anyone asks; love youuu byee

#smut #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost smut #ghost x reader smut #simon riley x reader smut

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stabortega · 7 months

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NO SURPRISES — CHAPTER TWO

Summary: Having to deal with the aftermath of that situation was definitely worse then finding out the truth.

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!G!P!Reader

Warnings: NSFW. Implied fem reader, she/her pronouns used. Mentions of sex, dirty talking and sexting. Knife play. Mentions of kinks, nothing explicit. Top!Reader x Bottom!Jenna. MDNI.

Author's Note: Still think my writing is trash but you guys seem to like it. 💜

MASTERLIST.

"What the actual fuck?!" Jasmine almost yelled as Jenna shoved her inside one of the dressing rooms in the set, while she tried to shut the other actress up. "Thank god someone's paying that poor girl's college."

"This is not fucking funny, Jasmine. I shouldn't have told you." Jenna locked the door behind her, looking at her apprehensively. She made a terrible mistake by telling Jasmine what went on last night. "And now they expect me to work with her? After I-"

"Seen her dick? Oh god, what will be of you?" The black girl laughed, while sitting down on the couch. "Chill, alright? She probably doesn't even know you donated. I mean, what was your username?"

Jenna gulped. "I don't wanna say it."

"Come on, was it that obvious??" Jasmine rolled her eyes, waiting for an answer.

"It was my first name then the first four digits of my birthday."

"I cannot fucking believe you."

Living in New York wasn't easy. Every apartment was obnoxiously expensive, so you had to resort to leave the city and start living in Brooklyn. It was a nice neighborhood, the best you could afford if we're being completely honest. Moving to the big city was by far the best and the worst decision you've ever made. Other than starting college, obviously.

I mean, you loved every second of it, but it started to fuck your financial life right up the ass.

"You should create an Only Fans or something." You almost spit the whiskey shot you were drinking right back to your cup, looking at your friend as if she just told you that she had killed three men with a needle. "I'm serious, (Y/N). Do you know how much money you can get just by posting out some feet pics, or whatever?"

"I'm not gonna sell pictures of my feet for cash, Liana." She shook her head no while taking a sip of her Appletini.

"Then don't. Sell your dick pics, or livestream. Come on, I know how much you're struggling and you know you're putting that body to waste. What's the worse thing can happen?"

And she was right. You started out with just an account on that website, posting some pictures here and there; until one of your followers suggested livestreaming and said she would pay some good money just to watch you cum on your stomach (which obviously, she did). It happened so fast that, when you realized it, you were able to get yourself a better place right downtown, pay off your college debts and buy a professional video camera to shoot some amateur movies. And no, not the pornographic kind.

You wanted to be a director someday, but you were also really good with a camera; which is why you got the opportunity to work in the upcoming Scream movie as an assistant videographer (and because Liana put in a good word for you). It was your first real gig in your area of interest, you couldn't be more excited.

The first day was just like any other. You got to meet a few people and get a hold of the equipments you were going to use.

"Ay, (Y/N)! Come here for a sec!" Your boss, Dave, called your name while you were looking at one of the IMAX cameras, which you've never got the opportunity to film with. You realized he wanted to introduce you to some people, which he did. You just didn't expect it would be one of the protagonists (and the newest it actress of Hollywood). "It's a pleasure to meet you, Jenna."

You extended your hand for her to shake, which she did after looking at it for a couple of seconds, almost if she was analyzing you. "Nice to meet you too, (Y/N)."

And that was pretty much it, you guys didn't exchanged any other words besides that on that particular day. You even thought that she could be avoiding you, for whatever reason. All throughout the day, you felt her gaze on you multiple times, but everytime you looked at her, she just looked away.

"You're definitely not subtle." Jasmine whispered in Jenna's ear, while she watched you handle one of the camera films. "I'm pretty sure that she can physically feel your eyes on her butt as we speak."

"She's definitely gonna find out that I was on her stream last night." The Ortega took a deep breath, looking away when she realized you looked at her again.

"She's not, don't get paranoid. You have the most obvious and boring username ever? Yes. It would take just one Google search to figure out your identity? It would. But still!" Jenna got up from the chair she was sitting, realizing that all she wanted to do was to smoke this off.

"You're not helping, Jasmine." She took out her pack of Marlboro's and her lighter once she was outside. "I never even watched porn before, not even by myself."

"And now you donated $1500 to a complete stranger just so she could cum while moaning your name. That's a character development." Jasmine stood beside Jenna, who had just started smoking so she could even try to forget that she wanted to sit on her coworker's dick less than 24 hours ago.

"I'm never doing that again, Jasmine. It's inhumane and gross. It was the first and the last time."

jenna2709: thought about you a lot today.

"Oh, did you? Good to hear that." She locked the door behind her and sat on her bed. That was Jenna's, at least, 10th day of watching your streams nonstop. And she had just "caught" you in the beginning of your livestream (which meant that she had the notifications of your page on and was too much of a chicken to admit it). So that meant that you weren't even undressed yet, you were just rubbing your dick over your sweatpants and chatting a litte bit with your followers before you started your actual show. "What exactly were you thinking of, huh?"

jenna2709: of me sucking your cock under this table while you tell me how much of a good girl i am.

Jenna realized what she said after she already sent the message. Where did that came from? She thought while looking intensely at the livestream, hoping you would just stop with the teasing and take your cock out of your pants for her to see (and drool). "Oh baby, I'm sure you're very good with your mouth. Wanted to cum right on your throat and make you swallow every drop."

jenna2709: i would be honored to be your cum dump.

"Okay, I crossed the line." She took a deep breath, not even recognizing who was that person inside of her, the person that would say the most obscene and erotic shit that she ever heard. It was almost if something awakened inside of her everytime she saw you. Every couple of days, at exactly 10PM, she would lock herself in her hotel bedroom and fuck her pussy so deep until she passed out from having like, five orgasms. And that was the easy part, obviously. The hardest part was definitely waking up in the morning and having to look at you as if she didn't saw your dick inside of a fleshlight the night before.

Jenna grew up christian. In a american dream type of household. But getting in touch with Hollywood and all of the film industry made her get out of her bubble and quite literally, discover the world. She drank, she smoked, she went to 2AM parties at some A-List celebrity's house that she never even met before. But sex? Never sex. She met a few people here and there, but nothing further. It made her think about that, the fact that she couldn't even be interested enough in someone to actually have some sort of contact with them; but with you, she would stay all night thinking about you fucking her raw and senseless until she couldn't remember who she was.

"Stop teasing, Jenna. We both know you were born to be my cum dump, and mine only." You were so horny imagining having that stranger on her knees while she had her mouth open, waiting for you to dump your cum inside of her pretty little throat. You took your cock out of your pants, a little bit earlier than you've expected, but you were getting so worked up that you didn't even thought about your stream routine. You started to stroke the member gently, feeling your dick pulsate right on the palm of your hand. "I know that you're the only one who can take care of this right, don't you think?"

jenna2709: if you were mine, i would make you cum on my pussy everyday.

Jenna started to get scared. Who was this person that was hiding inside of her? Was she really like that? Is she the female version of Christian Grey and doesn't know it yet? How the fuck she got so horny all of a sudden?

She knew that the reason you were playing that little game with her was merely money. But there was a part of her, a tiny part that hoped that you felt attracted to her as much as she felt to you. Even if you'd never seen her face, or her body. It didn't mattered if she had just met you a couple of days ago; she wanted you to want her, the same way she wanted you.

"And if you were mine, I would carve my name on your belly so everyone would know who you belong to." Oh yes, the knife play.

Jenna wasn't naive or innocent, she knew about fetishes and BDSM practices; and thankfully there was the option of marking your kinks on your own profile when you created your account. The actress spent an embarrassing amount of time researching some of your kinks that were listed on your profile (there was so many things she didn't even knew existed, to be completely honest). And the thought of you doing all of those things with her got her aroused in a matter of seconds.

jenna2709: you could carve your name on my face, for all i care.

jenna2709: i would definitely want people to know that i'm yours.

The rest of the livestream went as usual, you doing all of the things that your subs asked you to, Jenna being awarded as the number 1 tipper for the 5th time in a row, nothing out of the ordinary. You were just about to cum for the second time when Jenna tipped you again with a request.

Wow! "jenna2709" donated $2000 with the message: i want you to cum for me, again.

"You know I never decline your requests, baby. But, let's be fair this time around?" You answered, a little bit breathless, masturbating your cock as hard as you could. "I'll give you a private livestream if you show me your face."

Oh, a private livestream?

Jenna had been following your for awhile now ever since her first time watching your stream. She knew that private livestreams weren't something you did. And yet, you were here, offering one for free, just to see Jenna's face in return. It was a really good offer, but Jenna couldn't accept. If you found out who she was, the shooting would be the most awkward work experience for both of them. It would be like, "Hey, (Y/N)? Can you get this camera ready for me? Also, I've already seen your dick and I'm having wet dreams with you fucking me like the slut I am." So, she took one last breath after she decided to stick with her original plan and decline.

jenna2709: it's a deal.

#scream #jenna ortega smut #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #wednesday #the fallout #you #scream movies #pwp

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personasintro · 7 months

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Mutual Help | #38

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 14.1k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

Seokjin's parents, or whoever from his family owns this cabin, surely know their style around interior design. As soon as you stepped into the huge wooden cabin, you could confirm Jimin's words of his parents being loaded. There's no denying that. Apart from the luggage laying here and there, everything is very neat and the whole place smells like wood with a hint of freshness.

There is an art hanging on the wall, a few pictures of snowy mountains and trees which makes you think this cabin is mostly used in winter. When you step out of the corridor, there's an open room with two big couches on opposite sides with two circled coffee tables between them. The fireplace looks modern but still matches the warm toned interior very well.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

You almost jump at the sudden deep but tender voice beside you. Taehyung smirks when he notices the way you flinch and lightly nudges him in the arm.

"Have you been here before?" you wonder, glancing at your friend who nods.

"Just once, it was like three years ago but this place has been renovated since then." he explains, hearing you hum in return as you stare at the flames in the fireplace.

This specific corner of this room is most likely used to just sit down and chill. Despite its modernity and size, it seems like a cozy place to be at and you can imagine yourself just sitting there, talking about whatever. It's even better that there's no television.

"Is this an old cabin? That's why they renovated it?" you ask, dragging your suitcase closer to you as you and Taehyung stand and admire the interior together.

"Oh no," Taehyung chuckles, "This place was beautiful even before they decided to renovate it. I mean, it looks way better now since the interior is more modern and it's up to date. It screams money in every direction you look but still... the previous interior had its own charm if you know what I mean."

"Yeah..." you murmur, "People renovate when they don't know what to do with their money." you think out loud, wondering how it'd feel like to be completely loaded.

And here you are, with a broken car that might be already fixed but it's still old and will need another fix in the near future. Luckily, you've managed to save enough money to be able to afford a newer car. Just two more months with your usual salary and working in a club, and you're all free to look for a better car.

"So..." Taehyung starts, lowly and cautiously, shifting from one foot to another which just makes you snort and arch your brow at him. "How are you?"

"How am I?" you chuckle, "Why are you asking me this?"

You're not stupid. You could've recognized his prying tone from the second he opened his mouth and he does a terrible job at trying to act as casual as possible.

"With Jungkook and Haneul being here," he clears his throat, "And Kiko."

You straighten yourself, sighing as Taehyung keeps his eyes solely on you watching you like a hawk. It's been a while since you and Taehyung talked alone, just the two of you without any of your friends. Sure, you called him because you were worried when Jimin told you he was sick. But there is only so much the phone call can do. It makes sense he voices out his worries, even though part of you knows Taehyung loves gossip and lives for the drama. Still, you can see honesty and genuine worry in his brown soft eyes.

And it's only fair he's asking you this, specifically. He probably thinks this trip will end up with drama, considering Jungkook is here with Kiko and you are with Haneul. Most importantly, he still thinks you and Jungkook were dating. Even though he could see you and Jungkook being the same old you, from all those times you've hung out with your friends after your 'break-up', this time you're not kissing or touching each other because you're no longer dating.

Regardless of that, he finds it weird that all of you are here and are about to spend the New Year's Eve together. And you can't blame him. It's weird for you too but you pushed your bitter emotions and thoughts about Kiko aside. All you want is to have fun and celebrate New Year with your boyfriend and friends.

Looking around, you realize there's no one around you and everyone is in safe distance from you and Taehyung, catching up with each other.

"Come here," you murmur to him, taking him by his wrist and pushing him aside, closer to the wall so you're not standing in the middle of the entrance. Dragging your suitcase with you, you ignore Taehyung's doe eyes and the quite intrigued look he gives you. "I've to tell you something."

"Spit it out sis, I'm all ears." Taehyung says excitedly, causing you to snort as you scold him with your frown.

"But you've to promise me not to yell when I tell you."

Thinking about this now, you should've told him when you will be alone with him but now it seems to be like the right time. You just have to make sure Taehyung won't catch any more eyes and ears as soon as you tell him. You know him. He can be quite expressive.

"You're not pregnant, are you?" Taehyung widens his eyes, suddenly eyeing your stomach that's perfectly hidden with your sweater.

You almost choke on your spit. "What? No!" you exclaim.

"Ahhh, I hate when you keep me waiting. Tell me." he whines like a little kid, causing you to roll your eyes at his impatience. Is this how Jungkook feels like when you're being impatient and whiny? Probably.

"Okay," you sigh, embracing yourself to tell Taehyung the truth but not before you look around to see if there are any prying eyes on you. There are not. You're the least interesting pair to look at, not when everyone seems to be too invested to catch up with one another or give praise to Seokjin about the cabin.

Here we go.

"I don't really feel weird about Jungkook being here with Kiko, well, I do feel a little bitter over it." you roll your eyes at yourself. A little bitter? A lot, actually. Judging by the way Taehyung raises his brow, he probably thinks the same thing.

"As you should," he purses his lips, nodding furiously as his fluffy hair bounces on his head. "God, I still can't believe he's with her. Not after everything she did to him. Can you believe that?"

"Tell me something about it." you murmur, but Taehyung doesn't stop there.

"You are so much better than her," he says, almost proudly at himself for saying it as it makes you chuckle in amusement. "Sorry, I know you are with Haneul right now but still." he shrugs innocently, causing you to wave him off.

"Well, the thing is..." you start, looking around once again as Taehyung's brows pinch together in confusion. "I know how it makes Jungkook look because he brought Kiko and we were dating--" The way you say dating causes Taehyung to frown even in bigger confusion.

"I mean... I know you guys are... well, you. So I'm not even surprised you seem unaffected by your relationship, okay maybe a little bit but I'm not catching up. You better spit it out before I start whining again." he warns you, causing you to laugh silently as you shake your head at his goofiness.

"Me and Jungkook never dated. It was all fake," you tell him quietly, leaning closer to him so he can hear you perfectly as his mouth hangs open as soon as you say it. He freezes in his spot and you push his chin up to shut his mouth as he slowly looks at you.

"Please say something, this is already getting too awkward for me."

"Fake?" Is all he mumbles, quietly and innocently as he widens his eyes.

"Yeah, we had this deal and it included me pretending to be his girlfriend."

"What? No!" he suddenly whines loudly, or more like yells, causing Seokjin and Hoseok to look at you from afar as you scold Taehyung with a nudge to his forearm.

"What do you mean no?"

"I've been shipping you for months!" he exclaims, causing you to shush him again as he ignores you and looks completely shocked at the sudden news. "Woah, I can't believe this. You guys played it all along? This is so fucking dissappointing."

You snort at him. "Come on, me and Jungkook are friends."

He rolls his eyes. "Oh friends for sure," he spits sarcastically, ignoring the way you press your lips into a tight line. "But you were all over each other, you can't possibly make me believe it was all fake!"

"Taehyung, be quiet please," you scold him, pleadingly staring at him as he just shakes his head in utter shock. "We were all over each other because we--oh fuck it. We were hooking up."

Taehyung dramatically spreads his hand over his chest as he gasps. "You were hooking up?" he whisper-yells, lips stretching to a wide smile. "Well, at least that's something. How was he?"

"Tae, I'm not telling you that."

"Is he bigger than Haneul?"

"Taehyung!" you scold him, cheeks red as Taehyung devilishly cackles. "I just thought you should know. I felt so bad for not telling you and Jimin from the start. You kept asking about us and were so confused all the time, I really felt bad. But it's not something you go and talk about so freely." you tell him, mainly trying to change the topic which Taehyung eyes you for a moment but doesn't say anything about it.

"No, I get that," Taehyung says softly and understandably, "Wow, I need a shot after this."

You laugh at him. "Come on, let's go upstairs to check our rooms. You are sharing a room with Jimin, right?"

He nods, stopping you by calling your name quietly when you're ready to take a step. "I won't tell anyone. It's your and Jungkook's private thing, as much as I'm disappointed by the news," you roll your eyes playfully, "But thank you for telling me. I won't tell anyone, not even to Jimin."

"Oh, Jimin already knows." At this, Taehyung's jaw falls on the floor as he looks scandalized.

"Jimin? He knew?"

You sheepishly shrug, "Yeah, he only found out recently though. It was when we went ice-skating, me and Jungkook got into an argument and then I told Jimin. It was me who asked him not to tell you, I'm sure it was very hard to keep his mouth shut since you guys are like friend soulmates or whatever. I wanted to tell you by myself or with Jungkook, but now felt like a good idea."

"So who else knows?"

"Only you, Jimin and Kiko, I think. That is if she didn't tell Hoseok which I personally think she probably did."

"What? She knows too?" Taehyung is even more shocked, scrunching his nose.

"Yeah, Jungkook told her. I mean, I can understand that. At least she doesn't have to feel too uncomfortable with me being here even though I don't really care if she does or not. But it's better for everyone if she knows the truth. And you know Jungkook, he's been always honest."

Sounds like Jungkook, Taehyung thinks.

"Does she at least know you were banging her man?"

You snort at Taehyung, pushing him to the side as he laughs. "Yeah, he told her that part too."

"You said you and Jungkook argued. Did his competitive ass annoy you again?"

You smile at that, fully knowing what Taehyung means. It happened more than once that you got annoyed when you and Jungkook were hanging out, with Jimin and Taehyung too of course, and he got too competitive at whatever you were playing or doing. It caused arguments between you two, or more accurately you being annoyed and pissed at Jungkook while he kept making fun of you and teasing you for being so grumpy.

"No, I wish it was one of those stupid arguments that aren't really arguments," you admit, "I just said something painful and hurt him, even though he asked me to respect his decision."

"Oh, shit. Don't tell me you brought up Kiko cheating."

You cringe, just enough of an answer to Taehyung. "Yeah, it's even worse because Jungkook just voiced out his worry about me going late from work and using public transportation. So I told him to worry about his own girlfriend and he said something about not having to worry about her because she's not stupid... and I might've said she's just stupid enough to cheat. I know, I know!" you exclaim, already seeing Taehyung's pursed lips and the whole face that screams 'not cool'.

You feel your insides uncomfortably squeeze from the recall of your and Jungkook's argument. There's nothing you can do to change it, what's done is done. At least you and Jungkook managed to work it out.

"I feel bad enough about it. I was being such a bitch. He asked me a couple of times to respect his decision and I just brought that up. I hurt him that time, Tae."

"Don't blame yourself too much," he tells you, "You guys are both so fucking stubborn but whatever happens between you two, you manage to work it out." he says as if he could read your previous thoughts.

"We did manage to work it out," you admit, "He's just so good and seeing him with her, out of all people is just..."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Ever since Jungkook told us in a club she cheated-- well, I might've called her a bitch."

You gasp, "No you didn't!"

"I sure did," he muses proudly, "But hey, I'm just having my friend's back. Jungkook definitely deserves better but that guy is so fucking stubborn and too blindly in love."

"As long as he is happy." you shrug, ignoring the way Taehyung glances at you for a few seconds.

"I really was happy for the two of you when you said you're dating. I was very confused and shocked at the beginning for sure, I think we all were, I just can't believe you faked it." he chuckles in disbelief, causing you to give him a gentle smile and a shrug.

"I'm sorry for lying to you guys. We felt guilty about it this whole time."

"No, it's okay," Taehyung waves you off, "Dammit, I was saying the other day to Jimin that you and Jungkook looked so good together."

You awkwardly nibble on your lower lip, simply shrugging. "That's just because you were shipping us." you try to joke, seeing how Taehyung purses his lips and determinedly nods.

"I sure was," he agrees, "But hey, Haneul seems like a nice guy. I'm happy for you."

"He is," you smile. At the mention of Haneul, he must be waiting for you in your room for the next few days. "Should we get upstairs to check those rooms?"

"Yeah, let's go." Taehyung says, still looking quite shocked from the news but overall he gives you a reassuring smile as he leads you upstairs, helping you with your suitcase at the stairs.

The second floor and its design is just as magnificent as what you've seen of the cabin so far. The mixture of white paint and wooden ceiling creates a modern but very warm feeling to it. Your attention to the wonderful interior is washed away as soon as you see Haneul, peeking from one of the rooms with a big smile as he waves you over. You smile, making your way towards him and curiously stepping into the bedroom, while Taehyung informs you he's going to check on Jimin and their room.

"It's beautiful here," Haneul comments as soon as your mouth falls open.

The bedroom is not huge but probably bigger than the bedroom and kitchen together back in your apartment. There's nothing special in the room besides the bed, two chest of drawers and a tall wardrobe. What else do you need there, right? From the looks of it, it looks like the bed is king size.

"This was the last room with one bed. I hope you don't mind." Haneul informs you, murmuring the last sentence self-consciously as you turn around to be met with him nibbling on his bottom lip.

Letting out a gentle chuckle, you walk towards him before you hug him. "Of course, I don't mind. We're sharing a bed when you sleep at mine, remember?" you cheekily remark, looking up at him as he sheepishly nods and grins, pleased with your answer as he pecks your lips.

When you pull away from each other, you decide to unpack some of your clothes. Everyone seems to do that, judging from the constant rustling and people walking here and there, until Seokjin calls for everyone to come downstairs in ten minutes.

"I guess he wants to tell us something." you think out loud as you neatly place one of your jeans into the drawer.

"How long have you known him?" Haneul asks, placing his own clothes to the other chest of drawers, stealing a glance at you before he goes back to his task.

"Who? Seokjin?"

He hums, kneeling to his suitcase to pull out more of his clothes.

"I don't know to be honest. He's not exactly my friend. Jungkook, Jimin and Tae introduced me to him since he's their friend, along with Hoseok and Namjoon. You'll meet them later," you tell him once you see him frown in confusion at the foreign names. "But I've seen Seokjin a couple of times, nothing fancy. Just whenever I hung out with the guys and he was there with the rest of the gang."

You glance at Haneul whose eyes are attached to his own task, but you notice the way he nods along your words. He's cute while he does it, making you smile at him. He genuinely seems curious about your life and never fails to try and get to know you even more. It's one of the things you appreciate about him the most.

"Should we go downstairs?" you ask after a moment. You can always place the rest of your clothes and stuff later.

"Yeah, let's go," Haneul says, closing his suitcase as he drags it beside the chest of the drawers, so it's not placed messily in the middle of the room. He does the same thing with yours which you thank him for. Just as he's ready to take your hand, his phone starts to ring.

"It's my mom," he says, brows pinched together for a moment. "I've to take this."

"Yeah, of course. I'll wait outside or downstairs." you tell him, giving him some privacy.

He gives you a gentle smile, thanking you as you're already getting out of the room and closing the door to muffle the sounds from other rooms and a hallway. Just as you're walking out of there, you bump into a firm body that makes you let out a surprised yelp and almost stumble back to the closed door.

"Easy there, tiger," Jungkook muses, hands securely on your shoulders to prevent you from bumping into the door. "Barely an hour here and you're ready to run for the hills?"

His amused toothy grin is the first thing you see when you fully take him in, your eyes rolling but your own lips twisting to a grin. Typical Jungkook. It wouldn't be him if he didn't have any snarky remarks.

"Not yet, bunny," you remark back, satisfied smirk curving on your lips when Jungkook scrunches his nose at the nickname. "I hope there won't be any reasons for that."

Jungkook opens his mouth, probably saying another smart remark back but he's quickly cut off by fuming Taehyung whose feet thump against the hard floor.

"Jimin is so freaking annoying," Taehyung complains as soon as he walks over to you, pouting like a little kid as you snort. "Can you believe that? I specifically told Jimin I want the bed near the window and what did he do?"

You open your mouth, barely taking a breath before Taehyung is already opening yours, not waiting for your answer. You hear Jungkook holding back a laugh as he amusingly stares at Taehyung.

"He said he wants that bed too!"

"Tae," you bite back a laugh, "How old are the two of you exactly?"

"That's not the point!" he exclaims, making you put your hands in surrender.

"How did you guys solve it?"

"We played rock, paper, scissors of course."

Of course, they did. They do it all the time. There's not a day when you don't see them playing that kids game to make this fair. To be completely honest, it's what everyone does when you hang out and can't decide on things. However, Taehyung and Jimin are a completely different story when it comes to bickering. They're acting like a married couple that's been married for forty years or two siblings that just have to bicker every five minutes. There's no between, honestly.

Snorting, Jungkook looks at Taehyung's scowl. "I get it that you lost?"

"I did." he grumbles.

You're almost certain by the end of the night, Jimin will leave the bed for Taehyung just because he cares about him. And Taehyung would do the same thing.

Taehyung's goofiness is nothing new to you or Jungkook, or to anyone who knows him well enough to know that's a significant part of him. But there are different stages when he gets like this and when he lets out annoyed huff, aimed at no one else than Jimin, you can smell the sudden whisk of alcohol coming off his breath.

"Taehyung-ah, are you perhaps drunk?"

Jungkook arches a brow at Taehyung, staring at his and your friend questionably as Taehyung cutely widens his eyes as if he's been caught by his parents. He goofily grins, just proving your assumptions to be right.

"I'm not drunk," He doesn't look drunk, that's right. But without a doubt-- "I may have drank two or three shots. But don't look at me like that, you two! It's your fault!" he accuses, whipping his fingers at the two of you as you both stare at him with big eyes.

"Our fault? How is that our fault?" Jungkook exclaims, scrunching his face in a frown at the accusation as you already rub your forehead, staring low at your feet.

"I know." Taehyung whispers, leaning towards Jungkook who just pulls away and flicks him in the forehead at the obvious smell of tequila coming from him.

"You know what?" Jungkook whispers back, clueless as he glances at you, seeing you acting as if you're not there in the first place. "What is he talking about?"

"Jungkookie, I must say," Taehyung says, patting Jungkook's shoulder. "I'm disappointed."

"Wha--"

"Oh god, he knows about us." you exclaim, no longer standing Taehyung's talking and walking around the topic.

There's a high chance Haneul will walk out of those doors any second, he definitely doesn't need to hear any of this. Thank god, Taehyung is at least quiet and not loud as usual. Luckily, Jungkook doesn't need any more explanation because he understands you right away, brows shooting up in understatement.

"Ah," Jungkook lets out, "What's so disappointing about that?"

"Don't even ask," you interrupt Taehyung as soon as you notice him opening his mouth. He already said enough. "You," you point at Taehyung who just grins amusingly. "Don't blame it on us. We all know you wanted to taste that tequila you bought at the gas station."

Taehyung frowns before he grins all over again, shrugging innocently. That's right. He thought he's being sleek with the huge bag that was supposed to be 'full of snacks' as he said when Jimin questioned him. However, the clinking sound is what gave him away as he stepped into the car.

Although, Jungkook looks a little clueless about the whole tequila thing, only because he drove in his own car and not with you. Nevertheless, he seems to get the point as you notice the corner of his lips quirk up in an amused smirk when Taehyung doesn't even hide it anymore.

"Where is your room?" you ask Jungkook, changing the topic to not make it seem as if you're making an alcoholic out of Taehyung. He's not. He just loves to have fun and taste alcohol whenever there's a party going on. He might've started a little bit earlier to your taste but it's Taehyung. You can't be surprised at this point.

"There," Jungkook points towards the direction of his room, which undoubtedly he is sharing with Kiko.

Just as you look in the direction he's pointing at, luckily their room is on the opposite side and one room away from yours to be completely opposite, the door opens and Kiko comes out of it. She looks around for a second, noticing Jungkook straight away and with that you and Taehyung too. You swear you see her tense a little bit before she puts up a small smile and makes her way towards you.

Jungkook quickly turns around to you, specifically looking into your eyes as he points his finger at you. "Behave," he warns you, turning around to Taehyung before you can get a single reaction out of you.

"And you too." he tells Taehyung, causing his own mouth to open in a silent surprise as you snort under your breath.

"I'm not doing anything." you reply to him, scoffing a little bit but you put a little smile once he looks back at you, brows scrunched while his dark eyes remain on you sternly.

"I'm serious." he manages to get through his teeth, giving you a last warning before the door opens from your room and Haneul comes out, a little surprised by the amount of people standing in front of it.

"Oh," he lets out surprisingly, eyes looking for you. He finds you in a second, giving you a little smile but you notice something weird in his eyes as you get closer to him.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you place your hand over his forearm gently, head tilted back to have a proper look at him.

In the distance, you can make out Kiko's voice. "Hey Taehyung." she says gently, a little bit more braver than when she was greeting you.

"Hi." he greets her back casually.

You turn your attention back to Haneul who rubs his face a bit as he lets out a sigh. "It was just my mom. Apparently my grandma doesn't feel too good. She's been sick for a while." he explains, your features twisting in a worry and apologetic look.

"I'm sorry. You wanna go home?" you ask him gently, voice quiet and tender as you hear the rest of your friends (and Kiko) talk about something which you don't pay attention to.

"Ah, no. Mom said she'll keep me updated. There's nothing I can do anyway. My parents are going to hers to look after her."

It's definitely not good getting this kind of news, especially when he's here to relax from all the stress from college and have fun. It's saddening and you just hope whatever has been going on with his grandmother will pass and nothing bad will happen.

Nodding, you don't say anything else although there's a need inside you, wanting to assure him that if he has any doubts about being here you could just go back with him. But you decide not to say anything, it'd just make it look as if you don't want him here and there's not a place to talk about this some more.

Especially not when Haneul obviously wants to change the topic, turning his attention to your friends as he makes out with a new person.

"Hey, I don't think we've seen each other." he says kindly, taking a closer step to them as his eyes look at Kiko.

You watch her lip balm lips turn into a welcoming and sweet smile, something you want to roll your eyes at even though you're not sure why. Have you really grown so opposed to her?

"Hi, yes, I don't think we've met." she tells him, already stretching her thin arm towards him as you watch your boyfriend take it with a polite smile.

"I'm Haneul."

"Kiko, Jungkook's girlfriend." Oh, god. Can you roll your eyes now?

Clearing your throat, you snake your fingers around Haneul's wrist and pull him to you a little. "Seokjin called us, I think we should go." you speak, clenching your teeth while your eyes look at Haneul as he nods and lets you tug him a bit, not noticing the sudden shift in your behavior.

Little do you fail to notice the way Jungkook gives Kiko an apologetic smile, gently taking her hand.

"She'll come around." he tells her quietly, looking in front of him to watch your back, hand grasping Haneul as if somebody would snatch him from you.

Yeah, you'll come around. Right? At least he hopes so. He doesn't know how many more pep-talks he can give you.

"Friends, family... welcome!" Seokjin calls out happily, looking at everyone. As soon as you've made it downstairs, everyone has gotten comfy on two huge couches and chairs while Seokjin has stood up on the little step to make himself higher.

The closest to him, in one of the chairs, is sitting what you believe is his wife. You remember her from their wedding, she appears to look more soft and natural, minus the wedding dress and make up she had on. Even then, she was very beautiful and without doubt just right for Seokjin. You're not blind. He's handsome and wouldn't go for someone ugly for sure. Who knows, maybe he's not that type to care about the looks of others. And she's also Kiko's best friend which makes you feel a little uneasy, even though she looks kind and sympathetic.

"Some of you've been here before but to those who haven't, or have it doesn't really matter," A round of chuckles resounds in the huge open room and even you and Haneul let out one at Seokjin's awkward posture. Even from this distance you can tell the tip of his ears are turning red.

"Hyung, cut it short. Your ears are red." Taehyung calls out, cackling when Seokjin chuckles awkwardly but sends a glare at Taehyung who has managed to erupt another round of laughter from everyone.

"Anyways, I wanted to say welcome regardless if you've been here before or not. Make yourself home, there are many more rooms you can use..."

Seokjin's words somehow blend as you look beside you, Jungkook's arm pressed against you as more people are squeezed on this couch. It's hard to focus on Seokjin's words and him explaining important information about the cabin when there's Jungkook, whispering something into Kiko's ears which makes her giggle. You tap your fingers against your knee, pursing your lips a little to mute their annoying whispers but it's hard to do. Jungkook chuckles at something and presses a kiss to her cheek, at least it looks like he did from where you're sitting.

That's it.

"Can you guys shut up? I don't hear him." you scold, eyes boring to Jungkook even before he turns around to look at you.

You see him glare at you, clenching his jaw a little at your obvious jab as you give him a sweet smile before you cuddle to Haneul. However, your boyfriend is too interested in what Seokjin is saying that your interaction with Jungkook goes completely unnoticed. He does pull you closer to him, sneaking his arm around your shoulders as you make yourself comfortable.

Seokjin talks for a few minutes, mainly warning everyone not to break any of the vases that apparently his mother adores. It's funny how an almost thirty year old man looks a little scared at the mention of a possible accident of one of the vases breaking. The whole conversation is comfortable and even funny, chuckles and laughter resounding every few seconds.

"...oh, there is no staff around to clean this place while we're here, so please everyone... just clean after yourselves and don't make too much of a mess. Or if you do, just clean it."

Of course, they usually have staff around to clean this place and keep it nice and neat.

"Okay, so I bought some stuff before coming here but I'll need someone to go grocery shopping. Someone should also stay over with me to prepare the wood and fire outside. We should prepare the food for grilling, so I need someone in the kitchen with me too."

Hoseok offers to stay, along with Namjoon as Seokjin's wife is staying in the kitchen with her husband. You see Seokjin talking to Hoseok, most likely talking to him about all the tasks as Hoseok nods along. You stand up, along with everyone as you look around before you see Namjoon making his way towards you.

Your lips automatically stretch to a huge smile. "Namjoon, hi!" you exclaim happily.

God, was he always this tall? He looks just like you remember him on the camping trip. The only difference is his choice of clothing, perfectly matching the weather. He's wearing washed out jeans with mustard colored sweater while his hair stays brushed up. Now that you see him, it got longer.

"Here's my hiking partner!" he calls out cheekily, grinning with his dimple popping as you laugh. You do remember complaining, he's obviously hinting at that. But you weren't that bad, were you? "Hi."

"How are you? It's so nice to see you again," you tell him, still smiling as Namjoon fills you with how he's been, which doesn't really involve that much just that same old stuff. He asks you the same thing and you technically say the same thing back, there's nothing much to tell him. He's not your close friend but it's always nice to talk to him.

"Oh, this is Haneul. My boyfriend." you introduce Haneul, who's been politely smiling the whole time the two of you have been talking.

"Oh," You notice his brows shoot up for a moment, eyes looking behind you. You look back, noticing Jungkook who's in the middle of conversation with Kiko and Seokjin's wife whose name you still don't remember.

"So I heard," Namjoon shakes himself out of the surprise, even though he looks like he heard the news about you and Jungkook breaking up. Still, a grin stretches onto his lips as he outstretches an arm to your boyfriend. "It's nice to meet you, man."

He probably finds it weird to see everyone here; you, Jungkook, Kiko and now your current boyfriend. But just like on the camping trip, he doesn't ask questions and keeps himself out of it. You watch them greet each other, manly just like guys like to do it with the whole 'bro hug'.

"So, did your girlfriend finally make it?" you ask, remembering you've seen him with a girl when you arrived.

An automatic smile makes its way on his lips. "Ah, yeah! Sweetheart, come here! Let me introduce you." he calls out.

It takes a few seconds to fully see who he called over, until a gorgeous girl smiles at him and walks over to you. She's gorgeous. Her dark skin is what captivates you the most, it looks like there's not a single flaw on her skin as it's glowing underneath the lightning of Seokjin's expensive lights. Her dark and curly hair looks soft, touching her shoulders delicately as she flashes you with white and perfect teeth.

And he thought you're a model when he asked you about your job.

"This is Maya, my girlfriend. Sweetheart, this is Y/N. I don't know if you remember but I told you about her when I went on the camping trip."

Maya looks at you, a warm smile spreading on her plump lips. "Ah, the camping trip that I didn't go to," she jokes, causing Namjoon to chuckle as he gives her a kiss into her hair. "I wish I could go, I heard all the funny stories from there. I'm Maya, nice to meet you!"

You chuckle, taking her hand and shaking it in a polite greeting. "It's so nice finally meeting you! I'm glad you could make it this time." you tell him, smiling at her.

You're not sure if you, or Jungkook, would define the camping trip as a completely fun one. Sure, there were fun times that you experienced but overall, the end of it just made an impact on you both. Specifically on Jungkook, considering he had a second heartbreak in the spare of a few months. Everyone else seemed to have fun that time. Well, apart from Kiko as well who seemed to be just as sad about everything and Hoseok who had her back the whole time.

You introduce Haneul to her before the atmosphere lifts up to a casual conversation of Maya describing her excitement to be here, and finally spend some time with Namjoon's friends too.

"Sorry to interrupt," A manly voice suddenly joins the little circle you've made, Seokjin stopping just right beside you as he looks at you and Haneul. "You two are going shopping for some groceries. Is that fine?"

Everyone probably has their own task to do and it seems like you and Haneul were the only ones without one.

"Sure, but we don't have a car and I don't know a way around here." you admit.

Sure, someone could lend you a car but it still doesn't change the fact you don't know it around here. It's your first time here and even though you could easily use navigation, you'd rather not. You don't feel confident enough to be driving around on unknown roads and streets. And there's a lot of snow on the roads anyway.

"Ah, Jungkook is going too. You're going with his car and he's driving. I just need more people to pick and buy groceries. There's a huge list of things that everyone seems to desperately want and need right now," he rolls his eyes a little at that, not hiding his annoyance but you can see he's joking, judging by the way he laughs. "It's a lot. But if the four of you go, it'll be quicker and there's a lot of things to buy anyway."

Four?

You look behind Seokjin, finding Jungkook standing just a few meters away from you with no other than Kiko standing beside him. She clings to his arm, kissing him on the cheek as they both have somewhat intimate conversation.

Great. Just great.

Not wanting to show your annoyance, or cause any drama, a tight smile makes its way on your lips as you glance at Namjoon. Somehow, he seems to be the only one that's catching on the awkward situation and offers you a crooked smile. Maybe even Seokjin knows how awkward the drive will be, but something tells you he could care less about whatever drama or situation you've going on.

They don't know about your unwelcoming feelings towards Kiko. All they see are two exes driving together with their current partners which naturally makes things awkward.

Mustering the last pieces of confidence, you offer everyone a smile as you and Haneul bid your goodbyes. Haneul is completely clueless to the inner battle you're having, joining you while being his happy self.

Even Jungkook can tell as soon as he glances at you approaching, the little annoyance hidden behind your eyes. Straightening himself, his brows almost shoot up apologetically. It is what it is.

"Are we going?" you ask casually, ignoring Kiko's eyes on you.

"Yeah, sure, let's go. Seokjin already gave me the list." Jungkook says, leading everyone outside as you make your way down to his car.

The way down there is quiet, everyone just simply making it down the hill without falling or stumbling on the snow. You and Haneul take the seats in the back, Jungkook obviously taking the driver's seat as Kiko takes the passenger one.

Is it weird to see her sitting there when it has always been you who used to occupy that seat? It's weird to be sitting in the same car with her. So much for trying to avoid that when you were coming here. Universe must be hating you for allowing this to happen.

Jungkook's playlist starts playing as soon as he turns on the engine, his car roaring to life as Haneul starts sharing his excitement about the car and riding in it. Being a college student that pays for his part of the rent could possibly dream about affording such a car. Jungkook happily answers his questions, his tone remaining casual and even a little cocky.

Jungkook has never been that type to brag about things he can afford or own, he's not doing that right now either. But he seems to be somehow proud to tell all the information about the engine and car model itself. The car takes your breath every time, so there's no doubt it takes Haneul's breath too.

"...it has plenty of cargo space, so it's really spacious." Jungkook says, his voice slowly coming back to your ears as you stare from the window.

"That's amazing!" Haneul lets out excitedly, like a little boy. It's truly cute to see him being so excited about a car, it makes you smile.

"I heard you're still in college. What's your major?"

Yeah, and your smile is gone.

You know you're just being bitter. She's trying to make a conversation, but you'd be rather if she would just keep her mouth shut and stop being this nice and welcoming person. You're bitter, you know that.

However, Haneul seems to be more than happy to answer and make a conversation with her which annoys you even more. He's the one that sits right behind her, even leaning closer to her seat as he answers her.

"Real estate. I wasn't sure what to pick, my mom said picking something amongst business is for the best, so I..."

You can feel eyes on you, staring into the rear mirror just to see Jungkook's eyes already set upon you for a second before they go back to watching the road. Even just that second made you stop breathing for a moment, not sure what to make it out of his dark eyes. It's not like he was warning you, but simply checking your reaction which made you just squirm on your spot. Sighing, you look away and spend the next ten minutes listening to your boyfriend having a friendly conversation with Kiko.

No one questions your silence and the lack of interest in their conversation.

"...meat, ginger, more rice and water bottles. Okay, we have all of this," Jungkook speaks thoughtfully, lips slightly pursed in thought as he reads Seokjin's list of groceries.

He said he bought something on the way to the cabin but god, he wrote every single possible thing to that list. Your cart is almost full and since there's a good amount of everything since there are eleven of you, so you've to make sure there is enough food for everyone.

"Oh, we need potatoes, tomato sauce, gochujang and those shrimp flavored snacks. I think Hoseok likes them, I don't know the name."

"Ah, I know what those are. I'll grab them." Kiko offers, gently placing another kiss to Jungkook's cheek as he sheepishly grins down at her, watching her walk away.

Pushing away the urge to roll your eyes, you sigh and look at Haneul whose eyes are already on you. He gives you a smile. "I'll grab those potatoes, so we can go." he says, causing you to nod as you thank him.

It's not like you're annoyed to see Jungkook being happy. It's not that. It's just enough to be spending too much time close to Kiko, especially since she doesn't hesitate to kiss or touch Jungkook every few seconds. You've never been a fan of PDA anyway and it feels like she's just rubbing it into your face because from what you can remember, she has never been this affectionate before. You've no idea what she's trying to prove but that woman annoys you to the roots. Still, you seem to be unaffected, usually brushing off the attention she almost seeks.

Jungkook opens his mouth, eyes already staring at you as you interrupt him before one single word can make it out. "I'll find that tomato sauce and gochujang." you tell him, turning around on your heels and not waiting for any reaction from him.

You're not being petty. Someone would say you are. But honestly, you don't need any lecture he's about to give you or him trying to speak to your soul in desperate need to act like you like his girlfriend. He knows that's not the case and the more he pushes, with Kiko's desperate need of showing off her boyfriend, just pisses you even more. You were relatively fine as long as you didn't have to spend alone time with her.

Finding the aisle with sauces takes you a few moments, you take the time to walk through different types of aisles until you find it. There are various types of tomato sauce and you're quite puzzled which one to pick. There are cheaper ones but expensive ones too. Since Seokjin gave you his card, it shouldn't matter to you which product you choose, not caring about the price. Still, you don't like to waste anyone's money even if he's the one buying and obviously the one being loaded.

You decide to choose the one you usually buy for yourself. It's a proper medium when it comes to its price and you already know it tastes good, even though you don't think there could be that much difference when it comes to a tomato sauce.

Standing on your tiptoes, you do your best to reach for your chosen brand of tomato sauce. The tip of your tongue slightly peeking from your lips, your fingers lightly brush against the dark red can and you almost curse under your breath, growing annoyed at the height.

That's until you feel someone behind you, chest brushing against your back before it's almost pressed against you. You almost focus on the scent coming off the body behind you but the tattooed hand grabbing a can of tomato sauce reveals the identity of the person behind you sooner.

"Let me get it for you," Jungkook mutters raspily, grabbing one of the cans as you turn around.

You almost bump him straight into his chest, causing him to take a step back as he holds it for you.

"Here."

"Thanks," you mutter, taking it from him as you place it into the cart he pushed here. You didn't even hear him coming. "Are you stalking me now?" you joke dryly, peeking at him under your lashes causing him to snort.

"You wish, shorty," he says, patting the top of your head as you grunt at him in disapproval. "No, I just went to grab some more snacks and I saw you struggling a bit here."

"Is one can enough though? Shouldn't we get more?"

The one you were going for is a bigger version of the one you usually buy for yourself. You've no idea what Seokjin wants to cook that needs tomato sauce, but one big can probably won't be enough for eleven people. You don't have to be perfect at math to know this.

"Yeah, we probably should." Jungkook muses, reaching for one more and almost backing you to the aisle with his chest. But you don't move, nor scold him like you usually would. You stand there, feeling his body rubbing against you for two full seconds until he straightens himself but is still close to you. You've to tilt your head to be able to look at him properly.

"Do you know what personal space is?" you mutter, feeling your cheeks getting red for some reason. Oh fuck, what is happening?

"You out of all people know that I don't," he jokes cheekily, causing you to take a deep breath as you look at the aisle behind him. "Hey," he suddenly speaks up, sighing when you stubbornly stare at the pasta packages instead of him.

"Look at me woman." he groans, poking you in your cheek which annoys you even more, but at the end works because you glare at him and look at him just like he wished.

"What? You're so annoying, by the way. Do you know that?"

"Yeah I know thanks to you, you tell me that often," he grins, leaning down to put the can in his hands into the cart. "I just wanted to talk to you. I know this is not your ideal type of a trip and I can sense your annoyance from miles away. But can you please not give Kiko such a hard time? She's trying to get along with everyone."

Of course, this is what he wants to talk about.

The scoff that you give him doesn't go unnoticed by him, but you do notice the little hurt in his eyes when he's welcomed with your cold response.

"I'm not gonna talk to her like she's my friend. She isn't, Jungkook." you point out, words muttered through your clenched teeth. It's even worse when his dark eyes look straight into yours.

"You've barely said a single word since we got into the car. It's obvious to everyone there's something on your mind. I just don't want any fights." he almost pleads, brows raising in a silent plea.

"I'm just not in the mood of trying to act all friendly with her. I'm sorry, Jungkook but that's not what I promised. I haven't even said anything to her." you exclaim, growing more irritated with this conversation. Why does he always want everything to go smoothly and perfectly?

"Yeah, I know. All I'm asking is... you look like a huffy kid. That's all I'm saying." he points out, causing you to actually laugh, sarcastically of course.

"A huffy kid, really?"

"Really," he deadpans, "You don't see me acting like that towards Haneul."

Your mouth falls open for a split second before you react right away. "That's not fair Jungkook and you know that. Haneul has never hurt me like that and he's a good guy."

"Kiko is good too, I'm sorry you can't see it," you roll your eyes again, causing him to take a deep breath almost as if to calm himself down before he continues. "All I'm saying is that you wouldn't feel good as well if I was being a dick to him."

"Yeah, because you've no reason to be a dick to him." you deadpan this time, features twisted in a confusion mixed with annoyance.

"Y/N, please," he whispers, slowly reaching for the restless stray pieces of your hair that have gotten into your eyes but you're too stubborn to move it and break your cold and annoyed persona.

Your breath gets caught into your throat when you feel the tip of his fingers accidentally brush against your cheekbone, a huge red light blinking furiously in your head.

"I don't want any drama." He moves the restless strand behind your ear, retrieving his hand back as you blink at him.

God, you really want to kick him in the balls. How can he always be so soft and gentle with you? It's like he's doing it on purpose, knowing exactly how to act to tag onto strings in your heart. It makes you feel like an ass, guilty even for acting this way even though you could've been way worse. But you don't want any drama too. You're just not going to pretend--

"Kookie?"

Your head snaps to the voice coming from the right side, your eyes meeting Kiko's figure as she walks towards the two of you with hands full of the same snacks. She's looking at Jungkook first before she glances at you, her brown eyes slightly narrowing.

"Is everything okay?"

She visibly eyes the close proximity between you two, even though it's nothing dramatic because he's not that close to you. You mean... you can smell his cologne but he's at least your arm length away from you. It's not like this looks wrong but thanks to your and Jungkook's scowled features, it's quite obvious the tension in the air.

"Ah yeah, we were just talking." Jungkook says, offering her a soft smile as he goes to help her.

"I can do it, Kookie." she giggles once he takes a few bags of snacks from her and you just stand there, not really sure what to do or say.

You busy yourself by grabbing a gochujang package instead.

She glances at you when she puts the bags to the almost full cart, eyes knowingly glancing at Jungkook as if she knows you were talking about her. It makes you realize that she most likely could feel the cold shoulder you've been giving her. She's not stupid enough to not tell when someone just doesn't like being in her presence. Maybe she was the one who talked to Jungkook about you acting this way. But he probably wanted to talk to you because of his own decision and judgment, since you've been in their presence nonstop – in the car and now in the shop. There was no time and place for her to talk to him about this.

"Come on, guys. Let's find Haneul and let's go. I'm getting hungry." Jungkook tells lightly, giving you a glance as he takes the cart with Kiko right beside him, hooking her arm around his.

Nodding, you join them, noticing the way Kiko looks back at you for a moment with an unrecognizable stare before she turns around and pays attention forward.

Once you find Haneul, you go to the cashier while Jungkook pays with Seokjin's card for all the groceries. Your eyes almost bulge at the final price, noticing Haneul doing the same thing that makes you silently giggle. Thanks to Jungkook's spacious truck, regardless of packed presents for you, Taehyung and Jimin, it's easy to load all the bags there.

The drive back to the cabin is somehow more relaxed and you even join in the conversation, mostly talking to Haneul who luckily is talkative enough to make the whole ride and conversation more joinable. Jungkook's words ring in your mind regardless of you being more relaxed and talkative. Now that you're replaying your conversation, he still makes you annoyed by approaching you like that and making you feel like you're the bad guy here. But you can't help but feel slightly guilty because you're completely aware of your kind of bitchy attitude. You still could've been nicer even if you wanted to make it clear that you and her won't be friends.

As you get out of the car, everyone takes a few bags while Jungkook makes sure you and Kiko are holding the less heavy ones (he even takes seven bags just so you and Kiko are holding only two bags). Jungkook and Kiko are walking ahead of you, almost entering the cabin while Haneul is walking right beside you in silence until he decides to break it.

"Hey, what's going on with you and Jungkook's girlfriend?"

You tense for a moment, releasing a sigh. Well, now you feel even shittier since he noticed your inhospitality towards her. It's even worse because he's clueless about this whole thing.

"Why?" you mutter, an obvious act of trying to prolong the time when you actually have to explain yourself.

Whether Haneul notices or not, you don't know.

"Well... you seem to be quiet when she is around. Maybe I'm reading into this wrong, but I get the feeling you don't like her that much. Am I wrong?" he asks hesitantly and carefully, making your features soften from their tensed position.

"Ehh, you're not wrong," you tell him unsurely, seeing his soft brown eyes staring at you in a silent encouragement. Even if he doesn't tell you that, you can see that he appreciates your honesty and doesn't push you to answer if you don't want to. "I'm sorry you had to see that. I just... I don't think it's my business to talk about their relationship," And you're mainly protecting Jungkook's privacy. "But she just hurt him really badly and he got back together with her, it's been hard for me to process that because he deserves better."

You've been repeating this to everyone whenever you're explaining your inhospitality feelings towards Kiko. If you just said that she cheated, you surely wouldn't have to explain that much because it'd be quite obvious while you don't like her that much since you want to protect your best friend. Everyone knowing Jungkook knows he deserves all the love and is the most precious boyfriend she could ever have. But you won't say it out loud, people are not stupid and some of them can probably guess what happened in their relationship. Still, you're determined not to say the actual cheat word in any form.

"Really? She looks like a nice girl. I wouldn't have guessed she hurt him."

Thankfully, Haneul doesn't ask for any details that you wouldn't give him anyway.

"None of us did." you mutter.

"I think it's nice of you for having his back. You're a great friend, Y/N." he tells you, giving you a smile as you force yourself to give him one back.

"Yeah, I wish he could see that. I mean, I think he does see that and overall, he asked me to respect his decision multiple times and it's not really any of my business. But I can't help but feel... bitter and cold whenever she is around."

"I think it makes sense that you're not able to drop it. He's your friend, princess. From what I've seen, you really cherish people close to you. I don't know exactly what she did, although I think I get an idea, and I think it's important to accept and respect his decision because ultimately it's his life and relationship. But also he can't expect you to be just all nice when in your own way, you're protecting him. I do think you should let it go, though."

"I just don't want to pretend that I like her. I haven't even said anything to her. I'm just not interested in being friends with her." you exclaim a little frustratingly, stopping just in front of the entrance.

"And that's okay. Nobody can push you to do that," Haneul says, lifting his lips up in encouragement. "You're not like, secretly in love with Jungkook, right?" he asks sheepishly, but you can see the little panic in his eyes.

"What? No!" you tell him straight away, brows furrowing that he'd suspect such a thing. Just because you care about your best friend doesn't mean you're in love with him. You thought he knew that. He thought he just understood that your friendship is close and special.

"Okay, I just wanted to make sure. Sorry I asked," he says, cheeks slightly tinted red from the cold and embarrassment.

Honestly, you don't think it's something to be embarrassed about. He just wanted to make sure, just like he said. But you're naturally growing annoyed from all the assumptions about you and Jungkook. Someone would say you could've gotten used to it by now. You haven't.

"I know everything is new, our relationship and I'm still getting to know you every second, your friends too. It's interesting to see your friendship with Jungkook, I don't think I've seen friends being that close. But I trust you, I'm sorry if it looks like I don't. I just don't want to get myself involved in something that I don't know of. I really like you, Y/N." he explains, your features softening once again.

Why don't you feel like you don't deserve him? Maybe you don't. You've no idea how much understanding you'd be if you were in his position.

"I like you too." you admit. It's not like you haven't said those words to yourselves before. But it's still a nice reassurement for both of you. It's too soon to admit any deeper feelings but if your relationship will go the same way like it's been going from the start, you think it won't take long for you to admit those deeper feelings.

He leans down, a little awkwardly considering his height and the weight in his hands, but he still makes sure to meet you for a kiss.

Seokjin deserves all the success his restaurant is getting. The food he cooked, with help from his wife, tasted delicious. After you came from the groceries, a supermarket situated twenty minutes from the cabin, you went to unpack all the bags which caused the whole kitchen island to be filled with food and ingredients. Seokjin shooed away everyone who wasn't on the 'cooking team' as he called it. So you took that time to go for a walk around the cabin with Haneul.

It has cleared your mind a little and you've found and let yourself relax in his presence only. The guilt from your previous conversation with Jungkook is still there but talking about it with Haneul definitely helped. It makes you like him even more. He understands you, or at least is trying to.

Hoseok, Jungkook and Jimin cooked a soup, a typical kimchi stew meanwhile Seokjin and his wife, who just helped like he claimed at dinner, cooked his restaurant's special. He used traditional Japanese style of cooking, the same thing they do at his restaurant. There was beef, eggs, mushrooms and more vegetables that tasted amazing. You've never eaten something like that and everyone praised Seokjin, who seemed to like the attention and praise.

You've spent the rest of the evening after dinner playing board games and Taehyung's favorite UNO, sarcasm guaranteed as he spent at least ten minutes whining about the rules. You're not surprised though, you had a hard time remembering the rules yourself but at least you weren't whining about it. You actually tried to act as if you understood it, which made you lose anyways.

With a few bottles of alcohol opened, the board games are long forgotten and placed back to its place. The karaoke machine in the basement – yes they've a whole basement at least a good part of it used as a place to dance and have a party – resounds from downstairs. Taehyung's voice is loud enough to not be recognized, an amused snort leaving your mouth when his voice cracks but he carries on like it never happened in the first place.

You make your way to the kitchen, bringing a bottle of tequila like Seokjin asked you to, too busy cuddling with his wife who seems to be sleepy but determined to stay and watch the fun unfold.

Opening the fridge, you search for its bottle as you notice the brownish liquid after a few seconds. You close the fridge, gasping when you notice Jungkook leaning against the counter.

"Fuck!" you yelp, hand pressed against your chest as you hold the bottle of tequila even tighter. "Why are you creeping on me?"

Jungkook laughs, shaking his head at you as he brushes past you and opens the fridge. "Still flattering yourself as always," he muses, joking as you see his grin before he momentarily disappears behind the fridge door.

He pulls out a bottle of whiskey, shaking it a little in front of you to explain himself. "Just grabbing this."

"Uhm, uhm." you purse your lips, jokingly acting as if you don't believe his explanation as he narrows his eyes at you playfully and even rolls them at you.

"Are you having fun? I haven't talked to you since we came from the shop." he starts, voice empty from all the amusement and joking, sounding more gentle and careful.

"Yeah, I am. I guess there just hasn't been the time to talk." you tell him, watching his brows pinch together.

"What do you mean? There's always time for us to talk."

You chuckle at that, finding it somehow cute how serious he's taking this but to be fair, there hasn't been that much time to talk to him for real. You were spending the time with Haneul as you went for a walk and then dinner happened. Jungkook was seated on the opposite side from you, so he wasn't even sitting next to you. And now that everyone moved to the basement to drink and just have fun, you mostly talked to Jimin and Haneul. It wasn't intentional though. Jungkook seemed to be talking to Seokjin, Hoseok and Kiko of course. He was in that circle, well until you just bumped into each other.

"Well you were with Kiko and everyone else, and I've been with Haneul." you shrug, somehow feeling stupid for even explaining this.

"Y/N," Jungkook says softly, "I wanted you to come here so we can have fun too. Just because Kiko is here doesn't mean I can't talk or have fun with you."

You didn't know you needed to hear that after he just said it. Somehow, his words bring comfort to you and it makes you flutter at his kindness and attentiveness as always.

"Of course, I know that..." you murmur, smiling a little.

"Then let's show Taehyung how to rock at karaoke." Jungkook teases, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You laugh at him, shaking your head. "I'm not drunk enough!" you exclaim, but Jungkook ignores you and wraps his hand around your wrist pulling you towards the basement.

"Jungkook!" you laugh, as he keeps tugging you almost making you stumble on the stairs.

"You're always saying that excuse, you're not getting away from this. We're gonna show everyone how to do it."

"Jeon!" you laugh, holding a tight grip on the bottle. "At least let me put the bottle before I drop it."

He listens to you, doing the same thing with you but not until he pours himself a whiskey and you tequila. "To have fun and to our singing skills?" he asks, causing you to snort as you nod and go along with his toast.

Your glasses clink as they meet each other, the alcohol burning your throats as you make your way to the karaoke machine. You notice Haneul sitting on the couch giving you a surprised look to see you in front of a karaoke machine while Jungkook tries to find a song. Luckily, Taehyung's duet with Namjoon has ended as they happily hand you the mics.

Your boyfriend gives you a thumbs up when you look at him, only now noticing Kiko sitting next to him as he chats to Jia, Seokjin's wife. She's her best friend, so you're not surprised to see them having a nice conversation while giggling. Taehyung plops himself next to Haneul, offering him a tequila bottle. He accepts it, taking a few gulps straight from the bottle.

Haneul doesn't like partying with his friends too much. It's not like he doesn't like it at all, but like he told you, he prefers not partying every Friday like they tend to. He'd usually bailed on them, wanting to just relax in his rented apartment which would usually cause his friends to whine about him not going. Now, you're a perfect excuse for him not wanting to party every single weekend or free day.

But just like every guy his age, or it doesn't necessarily have to do anything with age, he likes to loosen up and there's nothing wrong with him drinking. You see him talking to Taehyung, watching them for a while until Jungkook takes one of the mics from you and grins at you.

"You ready?"

"What did you pick?"

"Jason Derulo, you know this song for sure."

You look at the name of the song. How can you not know this song? Everyone knows this song and the words to it, it brings you back to 2010 and this kind of music. As the electric guitar's sound, the intro of the song starts to play, you and Jungkook move yourselves to have more space. The sound of the new song catches everyone's attention and you hear Jimin and Taehyung cheer loudly, causing you to snort as you shake your head at your friends and their silliness.

"Jeon Jungkook!" Jungkook sings into the mic, instead of saying 'Jason Derulo' as it is in the original song. It makes you burst out laughing as he gives you a grin before he starts singing.

"Everybody's looking for loveAin't that the reason you're at this clubYou ain't gonna find a dance with him, no, noGot a better solution for you girl," Jungkook sings, passionately as he doesn't forget to play his role just right as he's looking at you, pointing at you every now and then as he sways his body to the rhythm.

One of the reasons you love karaoke, when you're drunk enough (thanks to the tequila you actually find yourself having fun and relaxing) is the fact you and Jungkook enjoy it every time. You could be singing about heartbreak, love or a song that doesn't make sense but you make it work as you play your roles just right.

"Just leave with me now, say the word and we'll go,I'll be your teacher, I'll show you the ropes,"

He moves closer to you, swaying his hips as he dances while doing so causing you to laugh at him.

"You'll see a side of love you've never known, I can see it going down, going down,"

This time, you bring the mic to your lips, Jungkook already grinning as he's singing, ready for you to join him which you do.

"In my head, I see you all over meIn my head, you fulfill my fantasyIn my head, you'll be screaming more,"

Taehyung's cheers and sometimes even screams can be heard in the distance, along with Jimin's as the two friends are your biggest fans, drunk fans. Taehyung keeps jumping up and down while sitting, the guy showing his excitement and overreacted fangirling with his entire body. Haneul chuckles at that, being the one who sits next to him as he turns around to watch you and Jungkook. He has never seen you look so free, maybe it's the fact you've had a fair share of tequila but you don't look too drunk. You're just having fun, dancing and giggling to the microphone whenever Jungkook wiggles his brows. Surprisingly to him, Jungkook sounds amazing and your voice isn't too bad as you both sing the chorus together.

"Some dudes know all the right things to sayWhen it comes down to it, it's all just gameInstead of talking let me demonstrate, yeahGet down to business and skip foreplay,"

Haneul's eyes widen at the lyrics, especially when he sees you tilt your head back as you laugh at Jungkook before you subtly bite onto your lower lip, smiling through it. He knows it's just a song and you both are having just fine, but he feels a weird pinch in his chest at the sight of you and Jungkook. He trusts you. He knows Jungkook forms a large part in your life and he's a very special friend to you. You're both close and to be fair, he's still trying to get to know you and your friendship with Jungkook.

So he looks at Jungkook's girlfriend, just out of pure curiosity to see her expression since he's still very new to your relationship but also getting to know you better, which also involves people around you which are your friends.

He finds her silently watching the two of you before she slowly sips on the wine. Okay, he barely sees any reaction from her which sucks because it doesn't do anything with his curiosity.

"Is that normal?" he asks, finding her turning her head slightly to look at him.

Kiko is pretty, very pretty actually. She's wearing a casual outfit, just some jeans and white shirt with mint colored cardigan but somehow she looks elegant in her own way. Maybe it's those dangling earrings that she's wearing and soft waves that she curled her black hair into. Somehow, Haneul deduces that they create a pretty couple with Jungkook. And he hopes it'll stay that way because your obvious close friendship to him is still a ball of wonder for him. And of course, he's just trying to understand it before he can let out any bitter emotions in the open.

Her eyebrows raise a bit at his question and he tilts his back to you and Jungkook, still singing your hearts out, pointing to the two of you. Kiko follows his vision, simply watching before she just shrugs.

He realizes he won't get any more reaction from her. Maybe he expected some explanation or her opinion about your friendship. Most of all, maybe he wanted her to say 'oh, it's totally normal, they're like this'. Keeping a cool head, he knows you're the best person to assure him of this. You explained your friendship to him, you told him you're close to Jungkook and even voiced your worry, worried that it'll affect your relationship with Haneul.

And he assured you he understands it and won't cause any problem just because your best friend is not a female. If there was a female standing next to you, he wouldn't bat an eyelash at that. No one would. That's just how it is.

But he's different. He won't be jealous just because nature tells him to be, or his own male ego.

Taehyung's loud cheers and the round of applause is what shakes him out of his thoughts, his distracted eyes focusing on you to see you smiling giving Jungkook a high-five before you make your way towards him.

An automatic smile spreads on his lips, seeing you cutely approaching him as you sit onto his lap. You wrap your arms around his neck, Haneul already leaning for a kiss which you gladly give him. He pouts when you give him a peck though, he was hoping you'd give him a proper kiss. You just giggle, kissing his cheek.

"I'd say I was your biggest fan but I think it's hard to compete with Taehyung." he teases, watching you tilt your head as you giggle looking at Taehyung who's already doing shots with Jimin.

"I can totally understand that," you muse, glancing back at your boyfriend, both of you chuckling at your friend. "Well, I need another shot of tequila from that excellent performance I just did. You want some?" you ask, arms sneaking off his neck as you brush them against his chest and you see his breath hitch for a second.

He bites into his lower lip, letting it go as he points at his filled glass. "Thanks though."

You smile, standing up as you scurry yourself to the small kitchen where alcohol has been brought. It's just a small room with a kitchen counter with no fridge or microwave. Taehyung drunkenly stands up too, shouting at Jungkook and pleading with him to go one round with him too. The younger one obviously declines Taheuyng but his older friend insists, whining like a little kid which causes Jungkook to sigh as he's already taking back the mic that he put away just a few seconds ago. Shaking head with an amused smile aimed at his friend that drunkenly tries to find the right song.

The theme song of Arirang starts to play a few seconds later, Haneul's attention interrupted for a moment by Hoseok sitting next to him. They haven't talked that much but he's been introduced to him already, so he's quite pleasantly surprised when Hoseok actually starts making a conversation with him.

He's too immersed with chatting to Hoseok, not noticing Kiko standing up too and sliding past them.

In the other room, you pour yourself a tequila shot but don't reach for it to chug it, enjoying the little quietness and muted music accompanied by Jungkook's stable and Taehyung's drunk voice before you go back. You chuckle to yourself at them, putting the tequila bottle back. At this rate, you should bring it with you but you want to avoid anyone spilling and breaking it. Everyone seems to be drunk or at least clumpy and tipsy enough to let that happen. You're sure Seokjin wouldn't appreciate it. At least none of the expensive vases have been broken.

You hear someone else coming to the room, their footsteps gentle but loud enough to be recognized. You expect to see one of the guys with the same purpose like yours to come here. However, Kiko is the last person you expect to come here. Your muscles tense underneath her brown eyes and the look she's giving you. She simply looks at you but that's not what irks you. It's the same softness of her features she always seems to sport.

It's quite obvious she hasn't come here to grab one of the bottles or snacks, or even pour herself a glass when she simply stops just at the edge of the counter and looks at you.

"Are you having fun?" she asks, lightly and friendly that it mildly surprises you.

Your brows furrow momentarily, wondering what's her intention and this conversation. She is trying to be nice and friendly to you, you can clearly see that. But it pisses you off that she knows you're not very fond of her and she just keeps trying to get on your good side. You're fine with her as long as you don't have to talk to her.

"Listen," you start, voice neutral and steady. "We don't have to pretend to be friends."

"We could be." she says right away, almost too quickly but yet, her voice sounds light and offering.

It actually makes you want to snort at that idea. You're that kind of person that wants to be left alone by the person you find irritating in any way. Most importantly, she knows that you're not interested in pretending to be friends with her. You respect her being with Jungkook and you knew what you were getting yourself into when you agreed to come here, with the knowledge of her being here as well. You're not looking for any fights with her and you're not planning to say anything bitchy to her, because you're not planning to suddenly start a conversation with her in the first place. But that doesn't mean you're interested in any kind of pretending just because she can't clearly leave you alone. Ah, it irritates you how good she's trying to be. It actually makes you feel kind of bad for your own thoughts and feelings but you can't help it.

"Are you kidding?" you ask nonchalantly, scoffing slightly as you see embarrassment crossing over her features as she hugs her cardigan closer to her.

She looks at her feet for a second before she braces herself to look at you again. "It'd be best for Jungkook's sake."

Her words actually make you snicker under your breath, no amusement on your face as you look deadly in her eyes. "So you suddenly care about Jungkook's sake? You should've thought about that sooner." you point out, voice empty just like your features.

Again, you watch embarrassment crawling back to her face as she clears her throat.

You're not usually the person who confronts other people. You wouldn't tell her anything if she didn't come up to you and brought this topic first. But now that she actually has the audacity to bring Jungkook's sake, something she hasn't thought about when she went to the same bed with another man, just sparks a new wave of anger and annoyance in you.

Just the obvious look on her face and her silence is saying she probably can't disagree with you because you're right. She knows that. You can see the guilt written all over her face and for a second, you actually feel slightly bad for how small she suddenly looks underneath your gaze. Just like you said, you don't like confronting people and arguing but sometimes it's inevitable and sometimes it comes naturally. But you're also someone who has their friend's back no matter what and let's be honest, you like to voice out your opinion, especially when it's an opportunity for it.

And you weren't raised like this. Maybe it's the alcohol flowing in your blood, even though you know you're not drunk. But you can feel the ease of your muscles and mind. That's enough of a clue for you to know that your mouth is much more free than usual. And most of the things that have been sitting stubbornly in your mind are set free, the words spilling out of your mouth with no limits.

"I'm already trying my best for Jungkook's sake, so let's not push it. I'm not going to act like we're friends because we're not," you inform her, crossing your arms over your chest as she stares at you like you just kicked her in the face. "Listen, I'm not going to send daggers your way but I'm not going to pretend I like you."

Her features twist in hurt but you're not sure if she's trying to hold back herself. You feel bad for saying those things but they're true. They might be hurtful but at least they're honest and you're not pretending to be someone you're not.

So you take your shot, brushing past her as you leave her standing there with her pounding thoughts.

Your mind doesn't feel at ease after that. You feel bad nevertheless of your words being honest. And you know if Jungkook saw your interaction and heard you, he'd be disappointed and hurt. Just like that, you feel annoyed once again because no. You weren't the one coming up to her and you didn't do anything to her. She is the one who came up to you, using Jungkook's sake as an excuse for her shitty behavior and the hurt she caused Jungkook.

Plopping next to Haneul, you find him in the middle of conversation with Hoseok, which is quite surprising because you wouldn't think they've that much in common. Haneul glances at you, welcoming you by putting his arm around your frame as he pulls you closer, offering you a smile as he nods to whatever Hoseok has been telling him. You give him a smile back, mustering the best out of you and he luckily doesn't notice how dishonest it is.

Moments later and you see Kiko, Jungkook's eyes finding her almost immediately while he's chatting with Namjoon and Seokjin. You watch his face light up as she approaches them. Even from them being meters away from where you're sitting, you can clearly see his brows furrow slightly as he scans her features. You watch his mouth moving, asking her something as she shakes her head and tells him something. The conversation seems kind of intimate as Jungkook makes sure to lean towards her, so they can have some privacy.

He evidently voices out his worry while Namjoon and Seokjin seem to get the clue, the two of them fooling around chuckling and talking. Kiko just shakes her head, her hand squeezing Jungkook's biceps as she gives him a kiss to his cheek. Turning around, she leaves him standing there with a confusion written on his face as he watches her girlfriend make her way upstairs.

He seems a little baffled, lips slightly pouting before he looks up. Almost immediately, his eyes find yours and it's like he can see right through you.

And then his brows furrow again, his dark eyes boring into yours even from across the room.

Shit.

#networkbangtan #ficswithluv #ksmutclub #btswritingcafe #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #mutual help #personasintro

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yourdoorisunlocked · 3 months

Text

ᴠᴀʟᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇ'ꜱ ᴅᴀʏ ᴠᴇxᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ - ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ

𝐀/𝐍: Whew! Ok, I'm taking a small break right now- I have one more request to do, and ofc as soon as I can I'll finish it, but I don't want to burn myself out or anything.

I'm just taking a quick writing rehab right now. Nonetheless, the banter was so fun to do, and I hope you all like it!

If I do write another chapter for the week, it'll probably be for What A Dish, What A Doll!

➺ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,903 ➺ Song Recommendation: 𝓔𝓵𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓬 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 | 𝓑𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓼

. . .

The chill of February’s frosted breath graced the glass panes of the largest building in the Vee’s district, an imposing force that not-so-subtly hinted at how far their influence and power expanded across the Sinner’s Circle of Hell, as it stood right in the heart of the Pride Ring for all to flock to. No matter how depraved, sadistic, or perverted you were, the territory of the Vees surely had something in store for your insatiable appetite to feast upon.

And since the first twenty-four hours of the infamously romantic month, chaos had erupted within the offices of the Vees. Other than Halloween, it was the greatest vice of Vox’s hellish existence, filling his calendar to the brim with meetings, product improvement, managing holiday events and sales, and not to mention Velvet’s stupid “Love Potion” gimmick-

For Christ’s sake, the goddamn holiday started with a ‘V’! Their brand of perfection practically relied on that lovey-dovey nonsense.

For the past week, the only thing filling up Vox’s schedule and keeping him from you was showcasing shitty rom coms with horribly conceived plots, Velvet rushing around like a mini-hurricane and destroying everything in her wake for her latest fashion show, and Valentino?

Oh, don’t even get Vox fucking started.

And now, after all of that overwhelming bullshit that kept him from warming your bed for the past few days, Vox desperately wanted – no, needed to escape and spend quality time with his darling. With you.

He had the usual Valentine’s Day blueprint in mind: eat ice cream and binge-watch your favorite TV-shows, while you flustered the hell out of him with your affections and make hot chocolate, and then fall asleep in each other’s arms by the fire.

Mundane, cheesy shit like that was the highlight of his days after another exhausting workday keeping it all roped together and navigating Velvet and Valentino's nonsense.

Their facade was of modern sophistication, perfection at its very finest that was produced for only those who could afford it, and it was all piled into Vox’s lap to regulate the chaotic, unpredictable behavior of his fellow Overlords, and keep their volatile nature in check.

But the continuous hardship that came with his stressful job would fade with the wintry wind as soon as he stepped off the elevator and into your shared penthouse, and like a patch of sunlight to snow, you’d melt away all his worries with a smile and a rub of his head as you took care of him for the night.

Almost there...

The television demon groaned as he crossed the threshold over to your apartments, seeing no need to keep up his perfectly aligned posture.

And, like a mercy served by Gods, Vox was met with the heavenly sight of you standing in your fluffy, midnight blue bathrobe that you’d received on your birthday, courtesy of Val. Vox would’ve personally burned it to high hell, but you adored the design, and he couldn’t resist you when you pleaded with him.

“Vox...” crossing your arms at the doorway, his light, his spark, his reason to maintain everything about his own reputation stood with a stern furrow in your brow as you strode over to him.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been overworking yourself again, love,” you grumbled as you took off his bowtie and removed his coat, and you smoothed out the front of his striped vest as Vox stumbled for an answer.

“I-” *sigh* “I’m not pushing myself that much. You know how the job is, especially around this time,” seeing your face fall and your lips tighten into a straight line, Vox took your hand, squeezing it within his gloved palms as his sharp teeth pulled into a small half-smile.

“But coming home to you makes it all worth it,” a tender hand dancing with waves of tingling sparks cupped your cheek, and with a heavy sigh, you looked to him with concern and affection swirling within your tender gaze.

“Yeah, yeah. All I’m saying is those two bumbling excuses of Overlords should at least give you a couple of days off,” you scowled softly, but your frown melted into a flustered pout as Vox kissed it away, and a soft buzz of electricity lingered against your lips.

“Now, now, enough of that, my dear. We still have the whole night to ourselves, don’t we?” You giggled, a long-awaited melody to his ears as Vox spun you around to press your back against his chest. How beautifully the sound replaced Velvet's usual grating, shrill voice that penetrated his ears. How agreeable you were, that you didn't fight him like Valentino, that you truly cared about him and his well-being.

Sometimes, you'd even force his workaholic ass to return to your apartment and get him ready for bed, practically hauling your grumbling, overworked hubby into bed, and forcing him to sleep in the next morning.

And it was the sappy, lovesick moments like these always reminded Vox that he'd never find anyone else like you.

All the more reason to keep you tightly within his grasp...

“Yeah, I guess, so. You dork,” you flicked the very center of your husband’s face, and he blinked a few times in surprise before chuckling and shaking his head.

“Oh, yeah? And what does that make you for loving me~?” Vox swayed against you gently, his inner fans suddenly warming himself up more than usual as he poorly attempted to conceal his light blush at having you so close.

Your laughter chimed through the air like the first sunbeams breaking through stormy gray clouds upon the aftermath of a thunderstorm.

“Well, I suppose that makes me your lover,” you simpered right back at him, turning your head slightly so you could stand on your tiptoes and kiss him.

It felt almost like a dream when you were in Vox’s arms like this. Simply existing with each other, standing above the Pride Ring as if you ruled the entire Sinner’s Circle. Untouchable, ambitious, and madly in love.

As if on cue, the sound of a gentle, reflective saxophone poured from the speakers installed within the penthouse as the lights dimmed, and you felt yourself drifting away as you swayed with your husband.

The soft buzz of electricity bounced against your figure as Vox stared down at you, his dead, automated heart pounding erratically as his hands slid from yours down to your waist, digging into the fabric of your robe with sharpened claws.

“Vox...?”

“Yes, my dear?”

With a deep breath, you lilted your voice as you spoke to him, in hopes that seeming more placating and docile could shake Vox’s stance upon his insistence to work himself to the bone. No more would you allow yourself to stand hopelessly to the side while you watched your husband work himself into such a distressed, sleep-deprived state.

“I’m putting my foot down. You’re not going back to that horrible place for the next week, at least.” Vox stiffened at your tone of finality.

“Excuse me?” He chuckled as if you were joking with him, but your resolute glare told him otherwise. “Check your phone.”

With a hesitant glance towards his pocket, Vox slowly pulled out his phone, only to find that, in fact, every work-related app had been temporarily blocked from the device.

Raising an eyebrow, he looked back at you and tapped your nose with a haughty smirk. “Nice try, but it’s going to take more than that for me to fall for your wiles, my dear,”

When you only grinned up at him with no hint of malice nor any trace of exasperation tugging at your usual, beautiful smile, his triumphant grin fell. “Why are you looking at me like that? What...”

A slow realization turned in Vox's mind as he recollected the last few days, when you were poking and prodding at him and his programming for “no apparent reason,” and he wrote it off as curiosity born from your boredom while being locked up at the penthouse apartment.

But by fuck, he was really regretting indulging you right now, for once.

With a surge of panic, Vox immediately blue-screened, as he mentally checked for any of his work-related tabs and files, only to find them completely, and suspiciously empty.

No notes. No texts. No documents.

Nothing.

You... You fucking hacked into his mainframe!?

His interface returned to normal to find you slumped against him, only perking up when you saw your husband had returned from his frenzied search of the crime that had been committed; the heinous act of keeping Vox from working.

And here the culprit was standing, swooning and relaxing in his hold, nuzzling against him as if she wasn’t to blame for his entire workspace vanishing off the face of the Earth for the next seven days.

“Well...?”

“...How long have you been planning this?” Vox was absolutely aghast. He knew you could be impulsive, perhaps even irrational, compared to your cool, collected husband, but this was...

You grinned triumphantly as you tapped his nose right back.

“I just thought you could use a few days off, spending some time in your wife's company for Valentine's Day~..."

“But when did you- No, how the hell-?”

“It seems that you’ve fallen victim to my wiles yet again,”

“Oho, you sneaky little-!” Vox practically tackled you into a hug as he discharged a small bout of electricity, tickling you with an electrifying warmth, just by holding you against him.

“C’mon, I’ve got another surprise for you,” with a soft giggle and a gentle tug of his antenna, you pulled Vox from the floor as his free hand shot up to his hat with a small, bashful frown.

“I told you to stop that!” He outwardly groaned, but you could hear the flustered electrical buzz that Vox emitted whenever you did something to him that he really liked.

“You know I don’t like it,” he muttered, but as always, you saw right through him.

“And we both know that’s one of the biggest lies you’ve ever told me,” you grinned back at him cheekily as you pulled him into the living area, where you had spent most of your afternoon setting up when Vox was occupied with his work.

In the living room, you had set up a small, cozy gaming area. It then hit Vox just how long you had been setting this up, waiting for him to drop his guard and into your scheming hands.

That little criminal...

Two controllers, one for you, and one for Vox, sat upon a pile of fluffy blankets. A few pillows draped in silk cloth surrounded the area on the couch, and before it upon the coffee table, there sat a freshly made bowl of popcorn, and various other chocolate candies and snacks.

“Hm... Seems like someone’s been itching for a rematch.” A challenge glinted in his sensors, and you leaned into him with an equally blazing ire.

"You wanna bet...?"

. . .

“GODDAMN FUCKING BLUE SHELL! I’LL DESTROY YOU, YOU SPIKED SON OF A BITCH!”

“HA-HA! GUESS WHO’S IN THE LEAD, NOW!?”

Your fingers pressed the controller furiously as the TV blared in front of you, and as you crossed the finish line, you let out a whoop of victory, nearly falling out of Vox’s lap in your bout of triumph.

“Yes!” “No!! Fuck!”

You and Vox shouted simultaneously, making you burst into a fit of triumphant laughter as he groaned and slumped defeatedly behind you.

“Are you serious!? That’s the fifth time in a row!” Vox nearly crushed his controller in his vice grip as he threw a slew of curses at the TV.

The two of you had been playing Mario Kart for the past hour, blissfully unaware of how your gaming match had whisked the both of you into a heated competition of bumper cars and tallying points for each round someone won, and the winner would be picking the movie you watched.

You stuck your tongue out at him with a victorious beam. “It seems the Nintendo wants us to watch the Kissing Booth tonight,” you giggled madly when Vox’s face scrunched up in disgust.

“Yeah, babe, there is no way I’m watching that.”

“Aw, come on, I won fair and square!" you leaned into your husband, who sighed with exasperation but softened at the sight of your pout.

“Please...? I promise we’ll watch whatever you want tomorrow!”

“It’s my first day off the job, and you want to watch the goddamn Kissing Booth!?”

"Pretty please, Sparks?" Vox’s aura buzzed softly at the nickname, and he narrowed his eyes down at you as you begged him with your puppy eyes.

“Playing dirty, huh? Fine. Let’s watch your dumbass movie,” Vox pouted with crossed arms as he slumped into the couch in defeat and his antenna buzzed softly in annoyance. It sparked abruptly when you clapped excitedly and pulled him by his collar to lay a tender kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you! I promise, you’ll love it,” you grinned mischievously and grabbed the remote.

Vox, in fact, did not love it. In fact, it was so bad that you both started watching it ironically and threw jabs at it occasionally.

“So, who do you think she should pick? Her psycho-controlling best friend, or the pretty boy with anger issues~,” You leaned your head against his shoulder as you shoveled a handful of popcorn into your mouth, your eyes glued to the screen.

Vox sighed and rubbed his forehead, equally as invested as you were despite your shared frustration with the film.

“Honestly? She should dump both of them and run for the goddamn hills.”

You snorted. “Yeah? Well, I would’ve chosen her boyfriend. He gets better over the next couple of movies.” Vox raised an eyebrow at you. “Seriously?”

Popping a few M&Ms into your mouth, you nodded at him. “Yeah, I’m serious! He gets some serious character development,” you mutter sarcastically, before licking your lips with a shit-eating grin. “He seems really cold and angry on the outside, but he’s not so bad once you get to know him.”

Nudging his shoulder, you glance not-so-subtly up at him, and Vox took the hint, tickling your sides softly with a smirk.

“And I’m a dork?”

“Yeah, and you’re a contagious one, too!” Your hands grabbed at his arms as he crushed you into a hug, pulling you even closer as he rested his head upon yours.

“Well, then I guess that makes two of us, doesn’t it my dear~?”

“No! Stop! Please, I can't breathe!” You attempted to flail around dramatically, but within Vox's vice grip, that was next to impossible.

“Ah-ah-ah! I’m afraid you’re trapped within my wiles, darling!”

“Curse you! How dare you use my own spells against me!” You giggled as he continued his bombardment of tickles and small, feathered kissing against your nape and the small back of your neck.

Soon, your laughter died down and you both fell silent as you finished the rest of the movie.

While you slowly began to drift off into sleep in Vox's arms, spent from the day of preparing your apartment for your husband's arrival, he looked down at you with a tender half-smile.

I can't believe someone like you would even look at someone like me...

"Hey, babe-?" He whispered out into the dark, before huffing out a chuckle when he realized you were still asleep.

With a soft smile, and a tender patter of his heart, Vox scooped you up and whisked you away to your bedroom, where he silently dresses you up in a pair of pajamas, and tucked you into bed.

Ever so gently, Vox laid a few of the blankets over your form, dragging them and the silk pillows back from the couch to make his little sleeping beauty ever the more comfortable.

He looked upon you as you dozed the minutes away, blissfully oblivious to the war that raged inside of him.

While Vox was impressed that you had managed to somehow hack into his mainframe and alter his actual mental programming, it really would take more than basic understanding – plus, you pulled it off unguarded. Now, of course, this spawned a new problem for him, but he’d deal with it in due time. Besides, it’d give him a proper excuse to slack off a little bit, with you.

God, what was he thinking? The old Vox would’ve seen such a desire to goof around with some girl while the other two Vees went around wreaking havoc and partaking in whatever idiocy without Vox to keep them in check.

But you weren’t just ‘some girl’ to him.

And frankly, those two clowns could go fuck themselves.

A part of Vox wanted to remain in your bed, for your sake, but there was work to be done, and Velvet no doubt was positively livid at the fact that he wasn’t answering any of her calls.

So, with a newfound confidence in his advances, your husband bent over you, softly pinching your chin within his finely sharpened claws, and laying a few tender kisses trailing from your lips down to your nape.

I wish I could do this to you when you’re awake... But that smile, fuck, I can’t even form sentences without fumbling when you look at me like all you want is to give me the world.

You groaned and turned over within the sheets, scooching towards him with a soft furrow in your brow.

Vox kissed it away, before reluctantly pulling away from your side, standing at the door with a small, yearning smile.

“Til morning, my dear.”

. . .

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Happy Valentine's Day from our favorite crazy-ass TV demon!

I'm sorry I didn't get to post this yesterday, but I was feeling so unmotivated by the end of it, and I decided to rewrite most of this fluff fic, just to give you all a quality post.

I don't half-ass things, especially when it comes to writing, that's just why my fics take a while to post.

Anyways, thank you so much for reading, and comments are always appreciated!

. . .

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @matrixbearer2024

#vox x reader #vox x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #valentine's day fluff #this man is a workaholic confirmed #yourdoorisunlocked #banner by cafekitsune #divider by cafekitsune

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unsolved-duvall · 1 year

Text

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐀 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨) - 𝐞.𝐦. (𝟏𝟖+)

part one | part two

older rockstar!eddie x reader

summary eddie munson was an asshole, you knew that now. and the truth was you hated him, so much so that you couldn't stop thinking about him.

eddie munson hated himself, and he couldn't stop thinking about you. (16.3k)

warnings 18+ minors dni, age gap (reader is 22, eddie is 40), angst, asshole eddie, references to abuse, drinking (reader gets drunk), reader hurts herself (not intentionally!), very brief mention of blood, smut, making out, oral sex, penetrative sex, fingering, an overuse of nicknames. if i have missed anything please politely let me know <3

Seven Months Later.

There’s this theory called the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon. It’s the scientific explanation for why you start to notice something, or someone more when your awareness of them increases.

It’s an illusion. Your brain creates a cognitive bias. The truth is that thing was there all along. You just never cared enough to notice it before.

Like Eddie fucking Munson.

The fall air was heavy with a bitter chill as it slinked in through your half-open window. You were barely conscious, your body still heavy with sleep, but you felt the cold wind embrace you in an unwelcome hug and you pulled your thick comforter over your head in a bid to escape it.

You weren’t sure what time it was, your mind hazy as memories of last night came flooding back to you. You attempted to push them to the back of your mind, you didn’t need the self-loathing to begin already, you could get to that after you had managed to at least eat breakfast.

Your arms felt heavy as you lifted them, stretching them above you. Your movements caused your comforter to fall around you, your eyes squinted to adjust to the harsh light that bled through the curtains. They were second-hand and made from really sheer material, they almost made no difference. But you kept them up anyway; you were a young woman living in a city by yourself, so you couldn’t afford to lose the small amount of privacy they granted you.

Dragging your limp body out of bed (fuck you, college) you made your way over to your closet, grabbing the first crumpled-up clothes you saw and throwing them on, not bothering to even look at what you were now wearing.

And no, you didn’t shower, and yes you knew you should have. But quite frankly, you barely had the energy to get out of bed and go to class; asking you to shower and wash your hair was asking far too much from you.

You had two exams today and a shift at the diner afterwards. None of which you were particularly looking forward to, but there wasn’t a lot you could do about that now except grin and bear it.

Which is what you did. It was what you always did.

As you stepped out of your apartment complex you felt the frost-bitten wind caress your face. You swore under your breath, pulling your coat tighter around you in a feeble attempt to warm yourself up.

Looking up your eyes landed on the obnoxiously large billboard that sat opposite your building. And on it, of course, was none other than Corroded Coffin, with Eddie sitting front and centre. Promotion for their upcoming tour.

You stared at it for far too long to be considered a passing glance. And just before you turned on your heel to walk to class you pulled a cold hand out of your pockets and pointedly gave it the middle finger.

Fuck you, universe.

“I’ll tell you what you can do Marianne, you can shove your ideas and fuck-”

“Okay, you’re done” John slammed his hands down on the table in front of him, pushing his chair back as he got up and all but manhandled Eddie, pulling him out before he could add more fuel to the fire, “Get out, come on. Jesus fucking Christ-”

It was early. The sun could have only just risen when he woke up and he could hear the fucking birds chirping kind of early.

It was 9 AM.

He could easily have stopped John from dragging him out of the meeting room like a petulant child, but that would take energy he simply didn’t have. And the energy he did have he was more than happy to use on shouting at people who, in his humble opinion, were being pretty fucking stupid for it being the crack of dawn.

9 AM.

So instead he raised his calloused hands in mock defeat as he let John lead him down the wide corridor, a warning hand on his shoulder, and into another room. The room was identical to the one he had just been in; but there was no one in there, which made it much preferable to him.

The harsh morning light beamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the exterior wall. The wall adjoining the room to the corridor was also made entirely of glass. Eddie leant his body weight against it, running his hands over his face as John shut the door behind them. Eddie’s eyes flicked to him briefly and he saw his body tense. He knew that he’d pissed him off. But he didn’t care, these moments were second nature to the both of them by now.

None of them dared speak first. Both of them quietly assessed the other, figuring out how explosive this was about to get.

Very. If the past was any indication.

Eddie being, well - Eddie, pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his lips, his hands fumbling around his many pockets trying to remember where he had last put his lighter.

“You can’t smoke in here.”

John’s curt voice cut through the thick tension clouding the room. Eddie’s eyes snapped to Johns, fucking insufferable bastard, and his hands halted their searching of his pockets.

“If I don’t smoke I’ll turn into an asshole” Eddie bit out the words, a sarcastic smile painting his face.

“Ah, so no different than usual then? Put the cigarette down and stop being a dick,” John walked over to the meeting table and pulled out a flimsy chair, sitting down with an exaggerated sigh, “I’m tired of playing your fucking father.”

“You’re barely five years older than me.” Eddie’s voice was harsh as he snapped back at John, but his face was heavy with some emotion that even John couldn’t place. He knew bringing up Eddie’s father was a bad idea. He only pulled out that card when he was desperate.

“Exactly. I have two kids at home. You’re old enough to be their father, so don’t make me speak to you the way I speak to them. Shit, they’re better behaved than you are.”

Anyone who knew John knew that he really did care for Eddie. He treated him like a brother, but Eddie didn’t yet return the same sentiment. John figured he probably never would, and he was okay with that.

He knew Eddie’s history. All of it. He understood why Eddie was the way he was. He just wished he could help him. He also knew that if he told Eddie this, he would most likely leave with a black eye if he dared show any ounce of pity for him.

Eddie liked to be treated a certain way. Harsh words shared between people on the most basic level. It made him feel safe. If he never connected with anyone he couldn’t hurt them.

Or be hurt when they left him.

So John never mentioned any of what he knew. But Eddie knew that he was aware of his past, and he hadn’t abandoned him yet, so that was good enough for him.

“You keep pulling shit like this and the label will drop you. It’s as simple as that.”

Eddie scoffed, fiddling with the still unlit cigarette between his fingers. “I’d like to see them try.”

“Okay, listen to me” John leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, feet planted as if he was ready for a fight any minute. “You leave to go on tour in two hours—your first show is tomorrow. Figure your shit out. Drop the asshole facade you’re so desperately trying to hide behind,”

Eddie didn’t say anything, he feared if he did he would only regret it. He simply stayed leaning against the wall, not looking away from John once. His stare was cold, calculated.

“You’re not better than anyone in that room. No matter what the girls you’re fucking every night might be saying to you.”

Eddie held his stare, a smirk pulling at his mouth.

“They don’t usually say a lot actually. It’s hard when they're being fucked dumb, poor things can barely string a sentence together when we’re done”

Eddie was looking for a reaction. He wanted a fight, needed a fight.

John bit his tongue, biting back the words he knew Eddie was waiting to hear. He wanted Eddie to tell him he was an ass. That he was pathetic. That he deserved everything that had happened to him.

He wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

“What? Do you not get that sort of reaction from your wife after you’ve fucked her? That’s poor show John, I can teach you a few things if you need me to?” Eddie’s venomous tone hit exactly where he intended it to, he could tell by the way John clenched his jaw, “Or I could just fuck her for you.”

“What the fuck’s happened to you, Eddie?” His voice was suddenly soft, concerned. Eddie hated it. “Is this all about that girl, because-”

“Fuck off,” Eddie said with a deafening calm, “I’m going for a smoke.”

And with that Eddie turned and left the room, his heavy footsteps echoing throughout the empty corridor.

“You better not miss the flight later! You can’t fuck up everyone else’s life like you’re doing to your own!” John sighed as the words landed on deaf ears, Eddie already too far gone to pay any attention to him.

It was going to be a long long tour.

Carpe Diem. That was a thing people said right? Well, you were here to tell them that was bullshit.

Seize the day. Whatever that meant - it was certainly not meant for broke college students who had recently been fucked over by a world-famous rockstar, had almost certainly just failed their final exams and now had to endure a seven-hour shift at a diner.

No, that saying was intended for people who already had their life together. Middle-aged moms living in the suburbs with their two children and a perfect husband. Who woke up each morning and decided between going to a new yoga class or a coffee morning with their book club girlfriends.

Those were the type of people Carpe Diem was meant for.

Not you.

You had managed to get caught in the rain on your way to your shift. The cold rain soaking through your clothes and onto your skin enhanced every emotion you were already feeling. The cold wind was biting as you swerved through the bustling crowd on the sidewalk. It was nearing 10 PM, and you wouldn’t be home until the early hours of the morning; you rarely picked up night shifts. You had been working there for almost three years and you could count on one hand the number of times you had worked a night shift. But right now you needed the money, so when the shift was offered to you, who were you to turn it down?

Once you had finally arrived you had almost immediately snapped at your manager when you walked through the heavy doors of the diner; she had made some innocent joke about how you would have been drier if you had swum here.

She quickly realised you weren’t in the mood for jokes and told you she had a change of clothes in the back you could borrow. You nodded your head and forced an appreciative smile onto your face. You liked your manager, she was maybe a decade older than you, give or take, and she always made sure the chefs cooked you some food during a long shift.

You ignored everyone else, one chef and two other waitresses who would be leaving soon, as you made your way to the staff room at the back of the diner, heading straight to your manager's locker and grabbing the clothes she had folded and placed on the top shelf.

You threw on the jeans but hesitated as you unfolded the all too familiar shirt. You recognised the design instantly and you felt a lump form in your throat. You had the exact same shirt at home, although yours was lying abandoned in the back of your closet, and you had been content never to see, let alone wear it, again.

The worn-out corroded coffin logo stared back at you.

Well fuck.

It had taken you all of two seconds to decide that you would rather spend your night in a half-soaked t-shirt instead. When your manager had seen you walk back out, apron tied around your waist and a damp t-shirt clinging to you, she hadn’t questioned it. Instead, she pointed to your area for the night and told you it shouldn’t be too busy, she smiled a genuine smile and rubbed your back, like a caring mom, before leaving you to it. You could tell by the look of concern she tried to hide that she knew something was wrong. You seemed tense, which you never were.

You hadn’t told anyone what had happened. You weren’t the first girl to be fucked over by Eddie and you certainly wouldn’t be the last. You felt ridiculous for being so hung up on what had happened.

But there was just something about him. And you hated him for it.

You saw pieces of him everywhere you went. Heard his voice in every store or cafe you went into, and every time it cut into you a little bit deeper than the last. He had left his mark on you and you had no idea how to get rid of it. The truth was you weren’t sure you wanted to. He made you feel safe. Which was insane given his reputation, but every time he looked at you it felt like a summer breeze wrapped itself around you. He smiled at you and it felt like running into the ocean for the first time on holiday. Like nothing could hurt you as long as he was there.

But then he had been the one to hurt you, so fuck him, right?

Yeah. Fuck him. You had tables to serve, people to pretend to like, and a myriad of awful attempts at flirting to politely ignore for the next… seven hours.

It was going to be a long long night.

The truth was Eddie had tried relentlessly to avoid coming back here. To this city.

To you.

But it hadn’t worked. His team had asked him multiple times why exactly he was so adamant about avoiding this place, but hell would have to open up and drag him down there before he would tell anyone it was because of you.

You had fucked him up more than anyone ever had. And he had spent one night with you.

He barely knew anything about you. He knew your name, and he knew how old you were. He also knew what you sounded like when you came.

He hadn’t told anyone about you. John knew, of course. But every time he would try to mention ‘that girl’ to Eddie he would shoot him a look that said “I am not above punching you in the face” and that was that.

So now here he was. In the one city on earth, he would have happily avoided for the rest of his godforsaken life-

“Do you want to go straight to the hotel? I already made sure the security stopped people hanging around outside, so you don’t have to worry about that.” John’s voice sounded from beside Eddie, although he was barely listening.

The moment the plane landed he felt his heart race. Which was stupid, because as far as he knew you didn’t actually live here. You might have been here on holiday or just came for the concert.

Fuck he hopes you didn’t come just for him.

“You know tour used to be fun, we used to do shit. Get fucked up.” Eddie didn’t turn to look at John whilst he spoke, choosing instead to smoke a cigarette out of the barely open window. The torrent of rain outside still managed to slip in through the open space, leaving raindrops to settle on Eddie’s hair that fell around his shoulders.

Eddie had a habit of avoiding other people’s questions, even simple ones. John had picked up on that fact rather fast. It was best to let Eddie lead the conversation, so that’s what he did.

“I remember,” John replied, staring straight ahead from the back seat, watching the traffic they were attempting to drive through, “That was ten years ago, things change, you know that.”

Eddie did know that. It didn’t mean he had to like it.

When Eddie didn’t bother to respond John cautiously said “they all have families now, Eddie. A wife and kids. Can you blame them for not wanting to get high every night and fuck up a hotel room?”

Eddie clenched his jaw, flicking the burnt-out cigarette out of the window and onto the rain-soaked road, “You have a wife and kids, why are you here with me? Not with them, with your perfect little picket-fence family, huh?”

“Because I’m working. I don’t spend time with you out of the goodness of my heart, you know. You pay me to be here, to make sure some insane fan doesn’t stalk you or some shit.” John tried to sound lighthearted, adding some humour to his all-too-true words. But it didn’t help.

Eddie once again went quiet, whispering something under his breath about it all being “fucking bullshit” but that was it. He hadn’t apologised to John about that morning, the comment about his wife. He couldn’t bring himself to admit he was sorry. And he knew that made him the asshole everyone said he was, but he had been wearing that badge of honour for a long time, he’d be damned if he let it bother him now. Maybe he just was an asshole.

“Do I assume you do just want to go straight to the hotel?” John asked again, he knew not to push Eddie but he really needed to let the poor driver know where he was taking them. Although with the traffic at a standstill, they wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.

“No” Eddie’s blunt response would have been enough to have most people stop talking to him.

“Well, where do you wanna go then? I’m not driving around with you all fuckin’ night I’ll tell you that for nothing.” Eddie finally turned in his seat to look at John, although his gaze seemed to be focused on the window behind him instead, “It’s gone midnight, you may be a rockstar but I’m old. I need to sleep.”

“Here. I’m hungry.”

John turned, confusion evident as he furrowed his eyebrows and breathed out a barely audible “what?”. The car had stopped outside a diner, open twenty-four hours, based on the worn-out sign hanging in the window. There was no one inside, except a waitress. This was probably the only place in the city Eddie could go to without being spotted and harassed.

“Are you serious? They have room service at the hotel and-”

“I fucking said I wanna eat here, is that so hard to understand?” Eddie snapped, his hands fiddling with the bracelets and pieces of fabric he had tied around his left wrist. “I- can we just get out here, I’m fuckin’ starving”

“Well if you would have eaten on the plane instead of insulting the food-”

“That shit looked like I could have made it. Would you eat my cooking, John?”

“You couldn’t pay me enough.”

“Exactly.” Eddie took off his seatbelt and waved his hands toward the door on John’s side “let’s go.”

John reluctantly moved to open the door, stepping out into the cold rain. Eddie followed suit, taking in his surroundings as he waited for John to tell the driver something, probably asking him to come back in an hour.

The bell hanging over the door rang out into the quietness of the diner as they both walked in, glad to be out of the rain for the brief time they were in it. It was quiet, save for the soft hum of a radio playing behind the counter. A woman stood behind it, her back turned and windswept hair flowing over her shoulders, an apron tied around her waist. Eddie could see that her shirt was damp and he couldn’t help the pang of guilt that rang through him as he realised she must have gotten caught in the downpour on her way here. Eddie had never had to work a service job before, but he knew damn well if he did and his clothes were soaked through before he had even started, he would have gone home. No questions asked.

He made a mental note to try and be nice to her. He never did that, but he promised himself he would at least try.

John hesitated a minute before walking over to an empty booth and sitting himself down, his eyes trained on the girl behind the counter.

Eddie sat opposite him, stretching his legs out under the table and picking up the menu that was left on the table. He decided on the first thing he saw and threw the menu back down, sliding it over to John, but he still wasn’t looking anywhere except at the waitress behind the counter.

“What’s the matter with you?” Eddie asked quizzically. John’s whole body language had changed the minute they had walked in. Sure, it wasn’t the most high-end place they had ever eaten, but Eddie had never taken him for a snob.

“Okay, you’ve got about ten seconds to decide if you want to just get up and leave.”

“What-”

“Too late,” John said suddenly, his eyes darting back to Eddie “don’t be an asshole.”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, what the fuck was he talking about? He looked around to see that the waitress had turned, now facing both of them.

And she was looking straight at Eddie.

You were looking straight at Eddie.

There are certain feelings that you’ve never been able to explain to people. You’ve never been particularly good at expressing how you feel because you’ve rarely been able to understand or process your own emotions.

But as you stood in the diner, at 12:46 AM, and saw Eddie sitting across from you. You knew exactly how you felt.

You felt angry.

You felt heartbroken.

You felt confused.

You felt the happiest you had felt in seven months.

And then you felt the world fall out from underneath your feet.

You felt like Eddie was about to rip your heart out all over again.

You hadn’t moved. Shit. What the fuck were you meant to do? Eddie hadn’t moved either. But John had, and he was walking right towards you.

“Hey,” he was tense, you could tell. “Listen, I don’t know what thoughts are running through your head right now. But, I can imagine at least one of them is that you’d like to punch him square in his face, right?” John tilted his head to the side, trying to gauge your reaction. You still hadn’t moved. You weren’t totally sure you were breathing.

“I’m gonna trust that you won’t do that, if I’ve been able to hold off from smacking him every day for the past seven months I’m sure you can too.”

John laughed awkwardly and cleared his throat. Something told you he wasn’t joking.

“Now, there’s a bar over there.” He pointed past you, out of the window, towards the dive bar sitting directly across from the diner “And even though I can’t drink whilst I’m working. I am going to go there anyway. I’ll be gone twenty minutes. Talk to him. Ignore him. Throw him out of here, for all I care. Do whatever you’ve gotta do.”

And with that John turned and walked out of the diner. The sounds of the city filled the diner as the door swung open and shut again. And then it was just you. And him.

And those two old guys sat at a table in the corner. Ignore them.

You shifted your weight on your feet, you wanted to talk to him. Needed to talk to him.

Your feet had carried you over to his booth before you had realised what you were doing. You couldn’t read the expression on his face, and for a second you thought he wasn’t going to say anything, but then-

“John ran out of here as quick as he fucking could, didn’t he?” Eddie… laughed? Genuinely laughed as he said it, a honey-thick smile covering his face.

“Yeah, he basically floored it to the bar over there” you pointed awkwardly, even Eddie was sitting with his back to the window, and couldn’t see. He smiled again anyway, dropping his gaze from you to stare at his hands that were resting on the table.

When you didn’t smile back you saw his whole body tense up. What did he expect from you here? To take him to the back room and fuck him?

“Can you sit down, and talk for a minute, maybe?”

“I’m working if you hadn’t already noticed.” You responded, voice slightly harsher than you meant for it to sound.

“I know- shit, I know. I didn’t mean that you weren't, I just meant,” he was stumbling over every other word, and you know it should have given you some satisfaction to see him like this. To realise that maybe you weren’t the only one who came out of this whole thing scorned. But you felt sorry for him, his eyes were heavy with something sad. His usual cocky facade was nowhere to be seen.

“I can sit for a while, it’s okay.” You hated how soft your voice went, Eddie heard it too, he bit back a smirk and sat up a bit straighter as you sat down across from him.

“Your shirt is wet,” Eddie said, making a vague gesture with his hand. It was still wet, you guessed, although it was much drier than it had been. “They really made you work in wet clothes? They had nothing for you to wear. You must be cold, that’s all.”

“My manager gave me some clothes to wear, yeah. I just kept my top because I didn’t feel like wearing hers.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side, a silent question as to why.

Well, fuck it. “She’s a big fan of yours. I didn’t want to walk around in a Corroded Coffin top all night so, here I am.”

There it was. He had been waiting for it. The moment he couldn’t avoid it any longer.

“Y/N I’m-”

You cut him off, you weren’t ready to hear whatever sorry excuse he pulled out of his ass. “Sorry? An asshole? A bastard? Take your pick, seriously.” Eddie watched you, his face blank as he took in every word you said.

You saw his jaw clench. The same way it had when he had left you alone in that hotel room.

“You want me to say sorry? For what, exactly?” You physically flinched at his words, the harshness of them. That honey-thick smile was nowhere to be seen, his eyes had gone distant.

“You want an apology because I treated you the same way I treat every other girl I fuck? Listen, sweetheart, you knew what the deal was from the start, don’t act like some fucking innocent party in all of this.” You felt the breath go from your lungs, he had leaned forward as was speaking to you, leaning on his forearms as he broke your heart again.

“You’re telling me you didn’t go around telling anyone who would listen that we had fucked?” Eddie spat at you.

“No. I didn’t.” Your voice was quiet but definite. “I didn’t tell anyone.”

Eddie paused for a moment, something flashed across his face. Relief? Confusion? Anger? You truly couldn’t tell. You weren’t sure he could either. “Maybe you should have. Gossip tabloids will pay a lot of money for shit like that” he turned his head, looking away from you. You wanted to get up and walk away. Shout at him. Tell him how much he had hurt you.

“You asked me to sit down so you could insult me, was that it?” you asked him, “well you’ve done that so can I go now?”

“What did you think I was going to do? Profess my undying love for you? Tell you I tracked you down just so I could tell you how sorry I was?” Eddie shot back, he had built that wall back up around himself the minute you had snapped at him. He couldn’t bring himself back from that ledge, no matter how much he wanted to. And he so desperately wanted to.

Because whenever his eyes landed on yours felt his heart break, he truly believed you held the whole world in your eyes, a world he longed to be a part of.

“I thought you could be a decent fucking human being, Eddie.” Hearing you say his name made him feel like he was drowning. Your voice dropped as you decided you needed to get it out of your system. “I thought you would have some respect for me. Do you know how fucked up I’ve been over this? I fucking cried over you.”

Eddie didn’t try to interrupt, he didn’t have any reaction to what you had just said. You could almost believe he wasn’t listening to a word of what you were saying.

He was.

“I get it, okay. This is what you do. Fine. Good for you, if you’re happy like this then please don’t let me, or anyone else, stop you.” You weren’t sure where your confidence had come from, but you felt like this would be the only time he would be sat in front of you again. “I didn’t want to like you. I thought you would be a complete asshole, and I was fine with that.”

Your gaze dropped from his face to his hands, where he was pulling at the jewellery he had on his left wrist. His hands gave away everything he wasn’t saying, and you didn’t think he was even aware of how much he was giving away. A couple of seconds later his hands stopped moving, and he moved them off the table, onto his lap. He hadn’t realised you were watching him so closely. He hated that.

“Eddie, listen to me, I liked you. I felt safe with you” Eddie’s eyes scanned your whole face as you spoke, almost as if he was looking for any proof you were lying. You spoke slowly, determined for him to really hear you, and understand what you were saying. “You’re a good person, Eddie. You are not what everyone says you are. Maybe you try to be that guy, but you’re not. You care about other people, but I don’t think you care about yourself.”

Eddie’s face had softened, he swallowed and shook his head, barely. But you saw him do it, nevertheless.

“I don’t know you, I know that. But I think you want to be happy, you want to be a good person. But you can’t let yourself. I’m not saying this because I want you to fall in love with me, or some shit. But I hope one day you will fall in love with someone. And I hope you’ll let yourself love them.”

All of a sudden it was too quiet. You hadn’t even noticed that the two older gentlemen who had been in the diner had left. A twenty-dollar bill was left on the table. The radio played dimly in the background, the rain clattered against the windows and roof. The muffled sounds of the city nightlife outside. Eddie hadn’t said anything to you. You nodded your head and shuffled out of the booth, prepared to leave him alone until John got back.

You walked back over to the counter, picking up the money as you went. You weren’t sure how long it had been. You had made yourself a coffee and were about to start tidying up when you heard Eddie move. His heavy footsteps echoed off the floor, his leather jacket rubbing against itself. You looked up, expecting to see him walk out. But he didn’t.

“I’m– we’re playing a show. Tomorrow. If you want to come, that would– fuck, um.” you had never heard his voice sound like it did right now. Soft, but still him. That confidence was hidden just below the surface. “Please come. If you don’t want to watch the show, then come when it finishes.”

You were the one not saying anything now. You were so angry with him, he still hadn’t apologised. He had barely said anything to you, apart from the insults he had thrown at you. So why the fuck did you want to go. Why could you not imagine this being the last time you saw him?

“Come to the door, ask security to get John. He’ll make sure you get in okay, I promise.”

You didn’t have time to even nod in agreement before Eddie was heading for the door, he opened it and you couldn’t drag your eyes away from him. Even with the promise of seeing him tomorrow, it felt like too much of a risk to not take him in as much as you could whilst he was there.

“I’m sorry.”

And then he walked out, letting the door shut behind him. Only this time he had said something to you before he left you. And you knew, no matter how much it would make you hate yourself, that you would see him tomorrow.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Genuinely, I’m genuinely asking you, this isn’t a joke anymore.” Eddie knew John would be insufferable on the drive to the hotel, but if he knew he would be like this? Eddie would have walked.

“I apologised to her. I invited her to the show, whatever she does is her decision.” Eddie bit out, John laughed at his words. The kind of laugh that said are-you-clinically-insane? Eddie couldn’t find it in him to disagree with that.

“Eddie, I have known you for almost as long as that girl has been alive-”

“Okay well that’s not what I need to hear right now, John for fuck-”

“No, listen to me. I have known you since you were barely older than her. And I have never ever seen you be so fucked up over someone else. I have never seen you care about someone else the way you do that girl– and don’t try and bullshit me here. Because you do care about her.” John sounded blunt, harsh. But Eddie knew he only sounded like that when he loved someone and wanted them to be okay. He only pulled out that voice when he needed to slap some sense into Eddie.

Eddie had never told him, but he did love John like a brother. He might tell him someday, maybe with you next to him. Maybe.

“For the past seven months, there is not a day gone by where I have looked at you and you weren’t completely zoned out. You were thinking about her, every time. I knew that. So now, here’s your chance. Not everyone gets those, you know that better than anyone.”

Eddie held back a shaky breath. John saw it, but he knew they needed to have this conversation.

“You are not your father, Eddie.” John needed him to truly understand that. “You never have been him, and you never will be. You won’t ever hurt that girl, in whatever way you’re afraid you will.”

Eddie froze, and then– “I don’t want to hurt her. I would never, I promise. But what if–”

“You are not your father,” John repeated “I know the kind of things he said to you, how he treated you. And how he treated your mother.”

Eddie nodded his head, tears welling in his eyes as he let John talk.

“The idea that you are even related to that man is astounding. And, how you got this reputation is beyond me.” John laughed, remembering something “You– you forced me to adopt a kitten you saw outside your trailer when I first met you, told me it needed to live with someone who had a ‘fancy-ass’ house. You gave her to me and threatened to tell my girlfriend if I said no.” Eddie laughed through the tears that were staining his cheeks.

“Don’t let your father win. He’s not around to control you anymore. If you ask me, you should have gotten on your knees and begged that girl to forgive you; begged her to give you a second chance.” The car stopped and John looked out of the window, the lights from the hotel flickering through the rain. John turned back to Eddie as he took off his seatbelt “Now, I don’t know if she’s going to turn up tomorrow. But if she does? Then she could be the happiest girl in the world if you just let yourself be vulnerable.”

Eddie nodded again, afraid that if he spoke his voice would break with all the emotions that were running through him.

“I assume I’m chaperoning this girl during the show tomorrow?” John said as they both climbed out of the car.

Eddie nodded, and John flung an arm around him as they walked into the hotel.

“I do not get paid enough for everything I do for you.”

After Eddie had left the rest of your shift flew by. No one else came in, which was normal for a weeknight. You spent the last couple of hours of your shift trying to distract yourself from the thoughts that were clouding your brain. Once the sun had started to rise and the orange sunlight began to flood through the windows you felt yourself heave a sigh of relief.

Your manager popped out from the back office every now and then, if she was aware of your run-in with Eddie she didn’t say anything. She never worked the night shift (being the manager had its perks), but the other waitress had called in sick earlier, and there was no one else to cover her.

She had told you she would drive you home, there was no way she was letting you get a taxi. You didn’t argue with her, thanking her and telling her you’d give her gas money, considering your apartment was in the opposite direction to yours. She was adamant you would do no such thing.

Just before 5 AM, the morning waitresses came in. You wouldn’t call them friends per se, but they were nice enough. One was in her mid-forties, with mousy brown hair that she always wore in a long ponytail, bouncing with each footstep she took during her shift. The other was around your age, and you were closer to her. You had been for drinks with her a couple of times, she was loud and extroverted so you never had to do much talking, which you were perfectly happy with.

They made polite conversation as they walked in, asking you how the night had been and if anything eventful had happened.

“Nope, it was pretty boring, to be honest.” There was no way in hell you were telling them that Eddie Munson had been sitting not even a foot away from where they were standing.

You politely dismissed yourself and went to find your manager. You ran into each other in the back hallway, she laughed telling you she was just about to come and rescue you.

The drive home was quiet, casual conversation was shared between the two of you, but nothing more. Soon enough she pulled up outside of your apartment building. You thanked her and went to get out of the car, but before you could she placed a hand on your arm.

“Y/N if there’s something bothering you, you can talk to me, you know? You’ve been quiet for a few months now. I don’t want to intrude or push any boundaries, but I care about you. And not just because you’re a good waitress.” You both laughed, and you assured her you were okay. Maybe one day you’d tell her what had been going on. But not just yet.

You went to bed as soon as you stepped foot into your apartment, only making time to pull off your clothes and throw on the oversized t-shirt you slept in. The mattress seemed to swallow you whole as you threw your body down and pulled your comforter over your head.

You only realised you hadn’t set an alarm when you woke up that evening, with a couple of hours left before you needed to leave.

To see Eddie.

Oh fuck.

You stumbled through your apartment to your bathroom and jumped in the shower. The cold water stole a breath from you and made sure you were awake. It took far too long for the water in your building to warm up, and to be honest, you figured taking a cold shower before you saw Eddie couldn’t be a bad thing.

Coming out of the bathroom, a fluffy towel wrapped around you, you turned on the lamps you had dotted around your apartment, the daylight quickly fading.

Your apartment was nice, you were incredibly lucky you had stumbled upon it when you moved here. It was only a studio, but what more did you need when it was just you? You separated your bedroom from the lounge and kitchen with a curtain that hung from the ceiling. It had been there when you moved in and you didn’t question how exactly the previous residents had got it there in the first place.

The rest of the apartment was undoubtedly old-fashioned. With 60’s and 70’s architecture but you made it your own. You brought all of your furniture from thrift stores, leaning into the 60’s look that you had been lumbered with. A variety of rugs covered the floor, lamps were placed on tables and plants were in every corner. It felt homely, certainly far from perfect but it was your own, and that was all that mattered.

You spent an hour or so doing your makeup, hair and getting dressed. You had never been the most confident person, but tonight you felt genuinely pretty. But you barely gave yourself time to let yourself feel that before the nerves took over your body. You felt lightheaded, a telltale sign that your anxiety was about to get the better of you.

So you did what you should never do in those situations. You eyed up the bottle of vodka you had out on your kitchen counter, left over from the other night when your friends had come over.

You told yourself you’d do one shot. Ease your nerves and loosen you up so you could at least talk to Eddie when you saw him.

Now, you would like to reiterate that this was the worst decision you could have made.

After the first shot, you called a taxi. And then you took two more shots before leaving your apartment.

You were a lightweight. This is important to note because you were already tipsy.

You arrived at the venue about five minutes before the concert started, meaning it was relatively quiet outside, everyone else was already inside, excitedly waiting for it to start. You remembered what Eddie had said about speaking to security and asking for John. It was cool outside, but not cold. The soft air hits your face and sobers you up slightly, you rested against a wall for a minute, asking yourself what the fuck you were doing.

Eddie had said sorry only after he had shouted at you. Accused you of telling anyone who would listen that you had fucked him. And maybe you were crazy, maybe you were being stupid. But… you looked at him and you felt like you were wrapped in a warm hug, his eyes were deafening. One look into them and time slowed down, any music stopped playing, and everyone stopped talking, all because you were looking at him.

You couldn’t ignore that feeling. It was the feeling you read about in fairy tales as a child. So here you were, wearing your heart on your sleeve. Trusting Eddie not to break it.

You made your way over to one of the entrances and spoke to the man standing there. You asked him to get John. He asked your name, and when you told him a knowing look crossed his face. He smiled and told you to wait there.

Has Eddie told everyone about you? No, no he wouldn’t do that. He probably told John to let security know you were coming, so they wouldn't turn you away.

Whilst you waited for John you felt the alcohol really take an effect. Oh no.

Before you had time to curse yourself for your decisions John rounded the corner, he smiled at you and waved you forward.

“I really hoped you would turn up. I don’t know why, but I did.” John told you, there was something in his voice you couldn’t place. He sounded happy, amused almost. A complete turnaround from his demeanour when you first met him.

“Eddie could convince anyone to do anything.” your voice was slightly shaky, trying to act sober will do that to a person. John looked at you as he led you to the balcony you would watch the show from, a knowing look crossing his face.

If he knew you were drunk, he spared you the embarrassment of pointing it out “He really could.” John pushed back a curtain and signalled for you to walk through. The balcony was big, and there were plenty of people up there. Some were sitting on the sofas that were dotted along the back wall, others were leaning over the railing watching the concert. It had just started, and the noise was deafening as you walked in, the music was almost drowned out by the screams throughout the arena.

“I’ll come back to get you at the end” you nodded your appreciation and walked over to the railing, a couple of people smiled at you. You assumed they were all family and friends, and suddenly you felt incredibly out of your comfort zone. You focused on the show instead, ignoring the eyes that you could feel staring at the back of your head. You didn’t blame them for being curious as to who you were, you just wished they would stop staring at you.

Twenty or so minutes later someone who obviously worked the bar brought over a tray of cocktails for everyone. Given your already tipsy state, you were inclined to pass on them, but then a sweet woman brought you one over. She was all wide smiles, sparkly eyes and gentle conversation. And soon enough you were downing another cocktail whilst she told you all about herself.

She was the wife of the drummer. They were high-school sweethearts and had a kid together. It was nice, she didn’t pressure you to tell her exactly why you were there which you were grateful for. You weren’t sure how to explain you were a one-time hook-up who was now here for… you still didn’t know what you were here for. But you felt yourself relax as you finished the cocktail and you ended up enjoying yourself far more than you had anticipated, a smile was plastered across your face when the concert ended and John came up behind you, a gentle tap on the shoulder to get your attention.

“Eddie asked me to take you straight out to the car, he’s already there,” John said as he held an arm out around you. You were drunker than you thought.

“Why are we going to a car? Wait–” You turned around comically fast, John held back a laugh when you held your arm out to steady yourself “did you tell Eddie I was… drunk?” you whispered the last word, for some reason.

You were so far gone it would have been funny any other time. Right now you wanted the floor to swallow you whole.

“I popped my head in halfway through and saw you down a cocktail. Considering I could smell vodka on you when you got here I made the safe assumption you wouldn’t be sober.” your face dropped at his words and he noticed, “hey don’t worry about it. Eddie is in no position to judge anyone for this, trust me, sweetheart.”

You nodded and let him lead you to the car, the cold night air a welcome feeling on your warm skin. John opened the door for you and you looked in to see Eddie with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Oh no he’s gonna laugh at me John” you sounded like a child who had been caught eating chocolate when they weren’t supposed to. John couldn’t help but find it endearing.

“Yeah he might, but it will be out of love” you tilted your head at his words. ‘Out of love’ was a saying, but the idea of Eddie loving you made your heart jump and your brain shut off.

John asked for your address, and when you questioned why exactly he needed to know that, he said Eddie was taking you home.

“Okay you’re like Bambi on ice here sweetheart, give me your hand”

You had arrived at your apartment soon enough, the flickering city lights and the motion of the car enough to make your head spin. Eddie noticed and told you to rest your head on his shoulder. You did what he said, practically burying your face in his jacket to stop the dizziness from getting worse. Now you were attempting to make it up to your apartment, which was proving to be a much more difficult task than it should be. You had sobered up compared to earlier, but you were still tipsy and your balance was questionable at the best of times. You were still tipsy enough to be far more relaxed than you were expecting to be around Eddie.

Eddie held a hand out for you and you wrapped your fingers around his wrist, balancing yourself as you walked down the corridor.

“I am much more graceful than Bambi ever was,” you told Eddie, trying to search for your keys in your pockets as you stood outside your door.

“If you say so” Eddie laughed, it was a sweet laugh, one that filled your whole body with warmth and made you feel all gooey inside. Gooey was not a word that existed in your daily vocabulary, but apparently, it was when you were drunk.

“Please tell me you have your keys–”

“I have them! These pockets are just– oh! See, I’ve got them!”

“You sure do” Eddie watched you as he kept a gentle arm around you, he wasn’t touching you, he was just ready for you to go down at any minute.

You not-so-gracefully managed to get your keys in the door and swing it open, Eddie was hesitant, waiting outside your door as you swept your apartment, turning on the lamps and closing your curtains. “You can come in, you know”

“I just wanted to make sure you got home safe, that’s all.”

“I thought you wanted to talk to me?” you asked him, had he changed his mind? You felt tears well at the back of your eyes and you silently cursed yourself.

“Tomorrow. If you want to. I’ll give you my number, and you can call me when you’re not drunk, okay sweet?”

“O-okay. '' he watched you search for something for a minute, and then you were signalling for him to come in. He did, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

“Here. Write your number down for me,” you told him as you held out the pad and paper. A smile spread across his face and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“I could just put my number into your phone, sweetheart. I thought I was meant to be the old one here.”

“Shut up, it’s cute this way,” you whispered under your breath, but he clung to every word. You were different in your own home, Eddie thought. More relaxed, although that could be the alcohol. But no, the way that you walked around, comfort seeping into you as you relaxed back into your own space. The way you had slipped your shoes off instantly, your socks padding across the floor as you turned on the lights. It suited you, he thought.

Eddie nodded his head to the table in the corner, asking if he could lean against that to write his number for you, as you had insisted. You mouthed a ‘yeah’ at his request. He seemed to take in everything around him as he walked over to the table, looking at the decor you had lying around. You suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable.

He was in your home. This man was still arguably a stranger. But that pang of vulnerability was soon replaced with a feeling of contentness. Eddie suited domesticity. He fit right into your space, his style a contrast to your apartment, but it wasn’t unwelcome.

You pulled your eyes away from Eddie long enough to try and grab yourself a drink of water. But as you leant your hands on the kitchen counter you placed your hand right on a knife you had left out earlier. In your drunken state, you attempted to pick it up and put it away, but you managed to grab the sharp edge. You pulled your hand back quickly, but there was still a cut on your palm, blood pooling around the injury.

“Oh shit,” you hissed, pain evident in your voice.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie practically jumped out of the chair he had sat in, dropping the pen he was holding and making his way over to you.

“I picked up that knife,” you told him.

“What– why– why did you do that?” Eddie asked you, with genuine confusion in his voice as he gently took your hand into his, looking at the damage you had done.

“Well I thought it would be fun to– I obviously didn’t do it on purpose!” you said defensively, but you were smiling at him despite the pain.

“Yeah, okay.” Eddie hadn’t heard any of what you had just said, you could tell by the flatness of his voice, “come on, let’s get you sorted out.”

You suddenly felt nervous, his hand on your sending heat rising throughout you. “No, it’s okay. You go, I can just stick a bandaid on it. It’s all good.”

“I won’t be able to sleep tonight knowing I left a lady in distress.” Eddie joked, you couldn’t help the blush that flooded your cheeks at his words, “besides your hand could still fall off.” Eddie said in a dead-serious tone. One that made you burst out laughing.

“I think it’ll be okay,” you said through breathy laughter.

“Let me take care of you and we’ll know for certain,” Eddie said. You nodded and he asked you where your bathroom was. You stared at him for a second and then pointed to the only door in the apartment, besides the front one. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t the smartest cookie in the jar. But that was okay.

Eddie led you to the bathroom and you sat down on the counter next to the sink, holding your hand out in front of you.

“Do you have a first-aid kit?” Eddie asked you gently.

“In the cupboard below the sink,” you told him, moving your legs to the side so he could get to it.

Eddie bent down and grabbed it off the shelf. He stood back up and placed it next to you, opening it and grabbing out what he needed. You moved your legs so Eddie could stand between them. He picked up your hand and looked at it once more before he gently cleaned it. You watched his hands the whole time, the way he was so soft with you, whispering out little apologies when you whispered out a complaint once that it hurt.

Eddie wrapped a dressing around your hand, you asked if it was too much but he said the cut was deeper than you realised. So you simply nodded and watched his hands wrap around yours. Once he had secured the dressing he looked up at you, breathing a “done” and holding your hand in his.

You meant to say thank you, but that wasn’t what came out “You’re really pretty.”

Eddie smirked and dropped his head, you could tell he was trying not to laugh at your brutal honesty. “So are you angel.”

A sickly-sweet smile crossed both of your faces. You wanted to kiss him.

You should kiss him.

You moved your head ever so slightly, but Eddie caught on to what you were doing and brought his spare hand up to rest on your cheek, a sweet movement but one that was intended to stop you from doing what you were about to.

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m tipsy,” you insisted.

“I’m not gonna kiss you. Not tonight, sweetheart.” You pouted at his words. A childish move and quite frankly it confirmed to him that you were far from sober.

“When I kiss you again, I want you to remember it.” you couldn’t pull your eyes away from his. His hand on your face, and his voice and his eyes and it was all-consuming.

“Come on, get into bed,” you smirked and he swore every time you smiled at him you took a little piece of his heart with you. “By yourself, smartass. Get into bed by yourself.”

“My makeup,” you told him. It was barely a full sentence but it was the best you could do when he was standing so close to you.

“Yeah, I like it.” He said. He rubbed his thumb under your eye and you held back a laugh.

“No– I can’t go to sleep in my makeup.” you clarified. He sighed out an ‘oh’ and then dipped back down to open the cupboard below the sink. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but then he came back up with makeup remover and a washcloth. A smile that tugged on his star-filled eyes flooded his face.

Your heart broke for him all over again but for a different reason this time.

“Close your eyes, angel. Don’t wanna blind you.”

You did as he said, slowly closing your eyes after you saw him tip some of the water onto the cloth. He was incredibly gentle with you, barely applying enough pressure to remove the makeup, but you didn’t tell him that.

After a minute or so you felt his hand leave your face and you hesitantly opened your eyes. He smiled at you and tilted his head, taking you in.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Shut up old man.” you let out an obnoxiously loud laugh. In your defence, in your current state, that was the height of comedy.

“Oh wow. You have a talent for running perfect moments don’t you doll.”

“I’m sorry. You’re not old” You told him, moving to get down off the counter and make your way into bed, “You’re middle-aged”

Eddie huffed out a laugh as he followed you, “I’ll take it.” He sighed, you couldn’t see but his eyes were full of love as he watched you get into bed. You hadn’t bothered to change into pyjamas. That felt… too much. You were drunk enough that you could easily fall asleep in your clothes.

“Do you need to lock the door after me,” Eddie asked quietly.

“The door locks automatically, as soon as you shut it. I’ve been locked out too many times to count,” you told him, your voice muffled by the pillow your head was smushed against.

“Okay.” Eddie ran a hand through your hair that fell around your face. “I’m gonna go, angel.”

You were too tired to verbally respond anymore, sleep had quickly taken over when your body hit the mattress. You heard Eddie move around, but didn’t lift your head to see what he was doing. And then you heard the door open and shut.

Your eyes shut to the sound of his walking down the corridor.

When you woke up the next morning your first thought was of Eddie.

And that was how you knew you were officially fucked.

You sat up and a glass of water on your bedside table caught your eye. You didn’t remember putting it there but you gratefully leaned over and picked it up, taking small sips as you assessed how bad your hangover was.

It wasn’t. That was your saving grace. You were still young enough to avoid bad hangovers; you had a slight headache and the sunlight seemed slightly too bright. But it was nothing a couple of painkillers wouldn’t sort out. Sitting up fully you swung your legs out of the bed, feet hitting the floor with a dull thud.

You put the now-empty glass back down and a piece of paper grabbed your attention. Picking it up you saw a number written down. And an ‘-E’ next to it.

Eddie got back to the hotel to find John waiting outside his room.

“It’s creepy to stalk people, you know?” Eddie announced as he pulled out the card to open the door.

John ignored him, “How was the girl?” heasked, tiredness seeping from him.

“You know her name, what’s with calling her ‘the girl’ all the time?” Eddie asked as he stepped inside.

“I like it. Makes it sound more mysterious.” John said as he leaned in the doorway, watching Eddie make his way down the hallway and into the bedroom.

“She’s passed out in bed,” Eddie shouted loud enough for John to hear him.

“Good. The poor girl’s gonna have a hell of a morning.”

“She’s young, she’ll be fine,” Eddie said, coming back out from the bedroom and leaning against the wall.

“Right. And you? You’ll be fine too?” John asked sincerely.

“If you let me get some damn sleep I’ll be great.” John nodded and pushed himself off the door frame, pulling the door shut behind him.

Eddie didn’t sleep much that night. He tossed and turned until the early hours of the morning, finally falling asleep when his body physically couldn’t stay awake any longer.

He was thinking about you. He couldn't stop thinking about you.

Which is why when his phone rang halfway through the morning, he jumped off the couch and practically lunged for his phone that was sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

“Hello?” Eddie’s voice was loud against the quietness on the other end of the phone, for a minute he worried it wasn’t you calling. His chest suddenly felt heavy, but then–

“Hi. It’s me.” You.

Your voice rang through his head and he would never admit to anyone that a smile graced his face at the sound.

“How are you?” Eddie asked, he swore you could hear his smile in his voice.

“I’m alive.” you said, laughter bubbling up, “No, I’m okay actually.”

“Enjoy it, you won’t be young forever, doll,” Eddie told you as he fidgeted in his seat.

“Yeah– yeah I know.” something deeper seeped into your voice, a seriousness coming through your words. “Can we talk? I know you wanted to last night, and I’m so so sorry, I’m so embarrassed that I–”

“You’re all good, sweetheart,” Eddie responded and he heard you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Do you want to come over? I can send a car for you, come and pick you up?” Eddie asked, holding his breath as he waited for an answer.

“No I can just get a taxi, it’s okay.” Eddie already knew better than to argue with you, so he didn’t. “Where are you? Some fancy hotel for rich people I’m guessing?”

Eddie chuckled, he liked it when you made fun of him, because he could always hear the adoration in your voice as you did, “yeah I’m at uh– the same hotel I was last time.”

“Ah, yeah okay. So it’s okay for me to come over, you’re not busy?” You asked sweetly, nerves peeking their head.

“No. Never.” Eddie told you.

Eddie told you the floor and room number before you hung up.

Shit. Okay.

He made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t fuck this up again.

The drive to the hotel was the longest you had ever experienced. Every emotion was running through your body as you rode the elevator to Eddie’s floor. Your leg bounced underneath you repeatedly as you fiddled with the ring on your middle finger. Eventually, the doors opened and you stepped out, smiling at a couple as they walked past you.

You checked the number on each door until you reached the one Eddie had told you was his.

You could still turn around.

No.

You were already knocking on the door. And you heard someone move around through the door. You realised you were scratching your hands and quickly dropped them to your sides before the door opened, and you saw Eddie standing there.

He looked like he always did. Messy hair framed his face. Freckles dotted his nose and under his eyes.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Eddie’s voice alone could convince you to do anything he asked of you, it was one of those voices that managed to seep into your veins and completely engulf you.

“Hey,” you responded, feeling that calm overtake you. The same calm and safety you felt whenever he looked at you, “Can I come in?” you asked when he didn’t say anything.

He was taking you in. He was also going over everything he wanted to say to you. He was terrified. Truly.

“Yeah– shit, yeah of course,” Eddie uttered, moving to the side to allow you to walk in.

It wasn’t the same suite as last time. This floor was higher up, but it was almost identical. The same layout, the same rooms, the same corridor he had left you standing in.

You walked in and made your way to where you knew the living room was, the same decadence overwhelmed you, and you had to take a minute to get used to it again. Eddie followed a couple of steps behind you - the air was thick with tension, neither of you entirely sure of what the other was about to say or do.

You turned to look at Eddie and inclined your head towards the couch, asking if it was okay for you to sit down. He nodded and you both sat yourselves down on either ends of the couch, enough space between the two of you for another person to fit there.

The TV played silently, a movie playing that you didn’t recognise. The floor-to-ceieling windows that covered the wall to the side of you let sunlight drown the room in a warm golden glow.

“I–”

“Do you-”

You both cut yourselves off as you spoke over one another. It could have been an awkward moment, but the feeling faded into something sweeter. A tender moment that showed each other just how nervous you both were. For some reason, knowing Eddie was just as nervous as you were made you feel better.

“Sorry, I just– I had some… stuff I wanted to to tell you, say to you.” Eddie told you, watching your face ccarefully. “If that’s okay.”

“Yeah, yeah that’s fine. I’m sorry, go ahead.” You settled back into the couch, lifting your legs and crossing them as you turned to face Eddie.

“Okay I’m not promising I’m very good at articulating myself, or fuckin’ whatever, so you’re gonna have to give me a minute.” Eddie said, his voice shaky.

“That’s okay.” you told him, your voice soft and bareilly above a whisper. His eyes had glazed over with something like fear, you wanted to lean across and rest a comforting hand on his, but you didn’t. Not yet.

“That morning, when I left you–” you tensed up as the memory flooded back, Eddie noticed it too but carried on, “I have regretted that every day since then. I’ve done some really fucking stupid things, maybe one day I can tell you all of them, but that? Leaving you? That is the worst thing I have ever done.”

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat and he coughed before carrying on talking, giving himself a minute to gather himself.

“I thought I would move on. Forget about you– and I know, that makes me sound like a complete asshole, but I’m tryna be honest here. I wanted to forget about you. I needed to. Because the way I felt when I looked at you, scared me so much I didn’t know what to do.”

The emotions you were both feeling were palpable in the comforting silence of the room. You didn’t try and interject, letting Eddie talk. You had never heard his voice sound so genuine. Almost like every other time he had spoken he had been putting on a mask, pretending to be someone else- pretending to be the rockstar everyone so desperately wanted him to be. You liked this version of him a lot more.

“When I was a kid my–” he paused for a minute, unintentional, as if he wanted to speak but he couldn’t form the words for a second, “my mom used to tell me that when you meet someone who makes you feel so happy it terrifies you, you should hold onto them.”

“Because that’s when you know its real. She told me you couldn’t love someone without being scared to death at the same time. Because loving somsone? Fuck, it’s a big feeling, you know?” You laughed gently at that, for someone who famously wrote his own music he really did have an interesting choice of words, but you found it endearing.

“It takes over every part of you and when she would tell me that, I thought she was lying, or something. Because if falling in love was so terrifying I didn’t understand why people would do it.” Eddie was moving his hands as he spoke, punctuating every word with a gentle movement. “And then I never felt that way, towards anyone. In forty years I never looked at someone and felt the world fall out from beneath my feet. And I was glad I didn’t, because I didn’t want to hurt that person.”

Your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, your moth dropping open slightly to ask him what he meant. But then he was talking again, and you settled back into listening.

“Sweetheart I am not here to try and emotionally blackmail you into staying, or being with me, or anything, okay?” Eddie’s voice went more serious, his eyes staring into yours in a way that made you think he could see right through you and read every thought that was running through your mind.

“And I’m not going to sit here and tell you some cliche sob story about how I had a shitty childhood and it fucked me up or anything.” You hadn’t realised it but you had moved closer to Eddie, your knees grazing each others as you listened to him talk.

“I did have a crappy childhood- I mean it wasn’t the worst, by any means but it wasn’t an all-American family with a white picket fence, you know? My dad was- my dad was the worst man I’ve ever met in my life, he treated my mom like a fucking piece of shit and I hated him for it. I listened to them fight, argue, I would leave my bedroom door open so I could hear if I needed to go and help my mom.”

You felt tears well in your eyes as he spoke. He was being completely honest with you. You could tell. This wasn’t easy for him to talk about.

He had never spoken about this.

“He’d hit her, do other things too but I remember when he would hit her. I remember the noise it would make. I would try and grab his arm but he would just swing back at me and throw me against the nearest wall– and I was a skinny kid you know? Fuck there was nothing of me, so I had no chance against him.”

Eddie seemed to quickly realise how much he had just said, what he had admitted to you and his face dropped. “Fuck I– I only told you that because one day, after my mom had left, and we were fighting he told me that– he told me that I was just like him.”

“He said when he looked at me, he saw himself. Which I didn’t understand at first, because I was the spitting image of my mom. Hair, the eyes, everything. But then he laughed and told me that one day I’d realise it too, that I was gonna be exactly like him, whether I wanted to or not.” Eddie shifted his body weight on the couch, moving his hand to rest over the back of it.

“So that day I promised myself I would never fall in love with someone, because I would never put someone through what he put me and my mom through.” Eddie wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, he wasn’t crying but he obviously worried he was about to.

When he didn’t carry on talking you said, “Eddie can I say something?” he nodded and you moved your hand to rest it on his knee that was next to yours, his eyes followed your hand movement and then flicked back up to yours when he realised what you were doing.

“You just sat and told me that you’re biggest fear is turning into your dad, right?” Eddie nodded slowly, waiting to see what you were going to say. “But the fact that you just told me that? That means you are nothing like him.”

Eddie swallowed a lum in his throat, “I don’t want to hurt you, in any way. But what if there’s something inside me that is just bad.”

“What if there’s something inside of you that is just desperate to love and be loved?”

Eddie moved his hand to rest over yours, and you interlaced your fingers together.

“There’s more I want to tell you, but I can’t right now, I’m just not ready but I will, soon. And I will spend every minute of every day aplogizing for leaving you, for being an asshole to you at the diner, for everything. I promise you I–”

‘Eddie, I know you will.” you truly did know that.

“Okay.” his voice come out soft, gratefulness tinging his voice as he realised you genuinely meant it. And then an understanding flicked between the two of you.

You two were far from perfect. This situation was far from a fairytale. And maybe to everyone else you would seem crazy for what you were about to do. But you didn’t care. Because when you looked at Eddie you felt the most terrified you have ever felt in your life, because you knew you wanted to see his face every day for the rest of your life.

Eddie knew that too. He knew there was no other option anymore. He had to wake up next to you every morning, he had to fall asleep next to you every night, and there was no other choice expect that.

“Can you kiss me now?” you asked, a smile tugging on your lips and lighting your eyes up in a way that had Eddie falling head over heels all over again.

“Yeah– yeah, sweetheart. Come here,” Eddie leaned forward at the same time you did and cupped your face in both of his hands, you titled your head to the side and then all of the planets aligned and nothing else mattered except the press of his lips against yours.

The kiss started off slow, sweet and deep like you were both trying to saviour this moment for as long as possible. Eddie’s lips moved gently against your own and you reached up to take one of his hands that was cupping your face, and interlace your fingers together.

His lips were soft and you felt like you were floating on a sun-kissed cloud everytime he guided your head to the side, allowing him to kiss you harder, deeper. Soon enough that feeling built up inside you again and you took a leap of faith; opening your mouth and letting your tongue run softly over Eddie’s bottom lip, a desperate plead for more.

Eddie pulled back, you leaned forward trying to chase his lips, and he couldn’t help the love that consumed him at the look of serenity that painted your face. You didn’t want to be away from him for even a second. And neither did he, but he didn’t want to ruin this, or seem like he only wanted one thing.

“Sweetheart– we don’t have to.” Eddie told you gently, his hand caressing your face and his thumb rubbing small circles into your skin.

“You don’t want to?” You asked, if he didn’t want to you would stop, of course you would.

“No! I mean no, yes– I do want to, fuck of course I do. I just don’t want you to think-”

“I don’t think that Eddie, I promise.” you cut him off before he could finish speaking, already knowing what he was about to say, the worry that flashed across his face told you everything you needed to know. A sickly-sweet smile spread across his face before he leaned back in to kiss you. Your lips moving against each others in perfect harmony, like this was what you were meant to do all your life.

Eddie let his tongue run over your bottom lip, you let him deepen the kiss and your tongues met in a cataclysmic way, both of you desperate to taste each other. The kiss was fast and slow, deep and soft, it was everything you had been craving for the past seven months- even when you hated him, you couldn’t forget the way his lips had felt on yours.

You could have been making out for five minutes or five hours, time had no meaning when you were with Eddie, it was all him and nothing else. But then you felt him push you back slightly, he relucatlanly pulled away from you, his lips still grazing yours as he told you to lie down.

You did as he asked you to, clumsily manouvering your body until you were lay flat against the soft couch cushions, Eddie moving to lie on top of you. One of his hands rested on your waist, his fingers grazing the tiny slip of skin that was showing where your jumper had raised up. He rested his weight on his forearm next to your head, carefully moving your hair out of the way before he did so.

You breathed him in as he lowered his mouth to your jaw, planting gentle kisses over your face. His hair fell around both of you, and if kissing Eddie felt like heaven then you didn’t have the vocolabury to describe what it felt like to be underneath him, completely consumed by everything that was so undeniably Eddie.

His curly hair, his soft lips, the little sighs he let out when he kissed a new spot on your body, the way his ring-clad fingers graze your skin. It was as close to a religious experience that you would ever get.

Eddie trailed kisses down your across your jaw and down your neck, you lent your head back further, giving him more room and you felt his lips turn up into a smile against your skin.

Your hand raised to rest in Eddie’s hair as he kissed your neck, instantly finding your sweet spot again, as if no time had passed and every sound you had made and reacted to his every touch came flooding back to him as he tasted your skin.

He was determined be soft with you. Take things slow and savour every moment. You were too, but then Eddie gently grazed your sweet spot with his teeth and you found yourself pushing his head further into his neck, desperate for his touch.

Eddie listened to you, the hand on the back of his head told him everything he needed to know. He gently sucked a lovebite over your pulse point; the breathy moans that fell from your mouth were music to him, he would do whatever it took to hear those noises for the rest of his life.

Eddie continued to mouth at your neck until he needed to kiss you again. He lifted his head from your neck only to be met your heavy eyelids, mouth slightly parted and a look of complete comfort on your face. He held your chin between his thumb and forefinger, moving your head back up to him. Your noses touching before he connected your lips, and you kissed like the world was ending tomorrow.

This was perfect, but you needed more. You felt that familiar aching start to grow within you and you languidly moved one of your legs to wrap around Eddie’s waist, pulling him flush against you.

Your movement caused Eddie to falter in his kissing you, for just a second. And then he had his hand on your jean-clad thigh and he was carefully grinding his hips down into yours. Determined to keep the soft atmosphere you were both bathing in. You panted into each other’s mouths, neither of you kissing anymore, your lips only moving against each other because of the gentle movement of Eddie rocking against you.

Neither of you said anything, you didn’t need to. Your soft pants and whimpers filling the soothing silence in the room. Both of you perfectly content to just take each other in, feel each other’s bodies move against each other, without any rush for more.

You lasted like that for a while. Sweet kisses shared between the two of you. And then Eddie made one move with his hips that had you moaning louder than you had before, and suddenly it wasn’t enough.

“Eddie,” you managed to breathe out.

“Yeah, angel?” Eddie asked you, his own voice sounding fucked out already.

“Need more,” Eddie pressed a kiss to your lips in response, he would give you whatever you needed.

“Yeah? tell me sweetheart, I’ll give you whatever you need, you just need to tell me.” Eddie’s soft voice settled over you and tightened your grip on him, grounding yourself. Trying to remind you that was real. This was really happening. Eddie made you feel so safe that you didn’t feel any embarrassment in telling him what you needed.

“I need- fuck, need your fingers, please.” Eddie whispered an okay and managed to slip his hands between your bodies, sitting up to undo the buttons on your jeans, his hands were shaking slightly. Yours were too.

“Can you just lift your–” you did what he asked before he got the question out. Somehow, despite him lying over you, he managed to take your jeans and underwear off. You both laughed quietly when it became slightly awkward, both of you moving around as you needed to. Soon enough he had your jeans placed on the floor next to you.

Eddie placed kisses along the top of your thigh, moving up to kiss over your waist and stomach, gently pushing up your jumper once you signalled it was okay for him to do that. He already had your pants off, and yet he wouldn’t even lift your top up without getting your permission again.

Eddie was kissing every square inch of your body, his plump lips leaving sparks everywhere he touched you. As content as you were to bask in the affection, you really needed him to touch you.

You tapped his shoulder and pulled him up to you, moving him where you wanted him, exposing his neck so you could kiss it. He let you, tilting his head to side and letting small breathless whines fall from his lips as yours caressed his neck.

You felt his hand slip between your bodies again and then his fingers fell to between your legs and he ran them through your slit, gathering the wetness he found there and moving them up to your clit.

“Fuck doll, you’re so wet, so fuckin’ perfect for me.” Eddie was breathless just from feeling how needy you were for him. He already knew he would never get over the affect he had on you.

You moaned out in response and Eddie circled your clit. His fingers sedning sparks through your body, “Oh god– Eddie”.

“I know, I know. It’s okay, let it out. Let me hear you.” Eddie cooed at you, applying slightly more pressure and just barely speeding up, and when your back arched off the sofa he smiled, knowing he’d found the perfect way to touch you.

Eddie dipped down to kiss you, and you pulled him closer to you. You werne’t sure you would ever be close enough to him. He kissed you as his hand worked you to your breaking point, he swallowed your soft whimpers and moans, letting out little shh shh shh’s and comforting praise when you got too worked up.

“Fuck oh my god– inside me, please Eds,” The nickname broke his heart and he kissed your forehead before dipping his two fingers down to press them gently inside you.

The stretch of his two fingers was definitely there, but it was clouded by the pleasure that spread through your body, and the relief of him touching you the way you needed.

“You’re okay, sweets?” Eddie asked when he saw your eyebrows scrunched together, eyes closed. But then you moaned and nodded your head with such certainty it would have been comedic if he wasn’t so completely enamoured by the way you were falling apart underneath him.

He slowly started moving his fingers in you, your wetness making it feel even better. Eddie was barely even pulling them out of you, instead he rocked them gently inside you, and when he curled his fingers upwards you swear you died for a second. Your eyes screwed shut and your mouth dropping open in a soundless moan.

You were so despeate you knew from the start you wouldn’t last long, but he had barely been going for two minutes and you felt that knot get tighter in your stomach and you knew you were so close to being thrown over the edge.

Eddie felt you get tighter around his fingers and he was grinding his hips down into your thigh without even realising he was doing it. Feeling his hips move against you was all you needed to send you to your breaking point, Eddie noticed instantly in the way your breath hitched.

“Are you gonna come for me, sweetheart?” you nodded as he kissed your cheek, your nose, the side of your mouth; anywhere he could reach. “You can come angel, come on. Just let go for me, I’ve got you. Need to feel you come all over my fingers for me”

His words sent you over the edge and you barely even recognised the sounds you let out, your ears were ringing and you were sure your vision blacked out for a second. Eddie never let up, working you through your orgasm, drawing it out for as long as possible, letting you ride it until it got to be too much.

When it did, your hand flew down to his hand, grabbing his wrist to stop his movements. Eddie carefully pulled his fingers out of you and your eyes went wide with need when he raised them to his mouth, cleaning your arousal off of them and dipping down to kiss you.

The taste of yourself on his tongue was all-consuming. Eddie moaned against you and you pushed your hand between you to feel his cock through his pants. His hips stuttered and he swore under his breath.

“Fuck sweetheart, keep doing that.” Eddie practically begged you, and who were you to say no to such a pretty man begging you to touch him?

You kept plaming him over his pants, he was moaning into his neck and when you undid his zipper to slip your hand underneath he almost bit down on the skin he was sucking on to stop himself from distrubing the rest of the hotel with the sounds that were falling from his mouth.

“Shit, okay– I need to be inside you, angel. Is that okay?” Eddie asked, his eyes clouded with arousal and his skin flushed.

You nodded and shorty after Eddie was pulling you up from your position on the couch. Eddie stood up and held his hand out for you. You took it and he led you to the bedroom across the hallway. Time slowed down as he delicately placed his hands on you hips and pulled you against him, kissing you as he placed his hand behind your head and lay you down onto the bed, climbing to rest on top of you.

You kissed him until you felt him tense against you. You bit back a laugh at how desperate he was, he didn’t want to rush you, of course. But he was certain if he didn’t get inside you in the next two minutes he was going to go insane. He needed to feel you around him.

You pushed Eddie’s shoulder and he pulled away from you to see what you were doing.

“Fuck me, Eddie.” you said breathlessly.

Eddie didn’t need to be asked twice.

He backed off you to throw off his trousers and top and grab a condom. You watched him intensely and felt the wetness cover your thighs at the sight of him.

You had almost forgotten how perfect he was. Almost.

He moved back over you, kissing you as he wrapped your legs around his waist loosely. He guided himself into you, rubbing himself over your clit a couple of times until you were whimpering for him to please fuck you.

He remembered the last time. How it took you a second to adjust to him. He was gentle as he pushed unto you a few inches. He stold your breath from you for a second, the stretch not feeling as painful as last time, instead you were already begging for more. Moving your hips to get him deeper.

Eddie smiled and carried on pushing into you. Watching your face for any sign that you were uncomfortable, but it never came. Soft whimpers and moans fell from your lips and your legs tightened around him as he bottomed out inside you.

It felt so right. Nothing felt as right as Eddie being inside you.

“Fuck, good girl– taking me so fucking well.” Eddie praised you as he began to move inside you, pulling out almost all the way and then back into you.

He found the perfect rhythm. One that had you both whispering soft praises into each others mouths and had your nails digging into his back. His forearms were back on either side of his head as held his body weigh off of you.

But when you whimpered out in protest at the small piece of space left between you he lowered himself, his chest flush against yours and his head buried in your neck.

His ring-clad fingers held onto your thigh around his waist- despite the gentleness, you were sure you would have marks there afterwards.

Eddie normally lasted a while, but being inside of you sent him flying towards his release ridiculously fast. He mouthed at your neck and when he hit that sweet-spot inside you, you let out a moan that could have made Eddie come there and then.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good– oh god,” his voice was muffled against your neck, never stopping pressing kisses into your skin.

“You feel so good too, fuck Eddie.”

Eddie wanted you to come again before him, he pushed one of your legs up, holding it against you and the change in position had you clawing at his back and pulling his head up so you could kiss him.

You could tell Eddie was close by the whimpers he was letting out, his head dropping to rest against yours and you could hear him right in your ear, sending your eyes rolling back into your head.

“Fuck I want you to come for me, Eddie,” you whispered against his hair.

He pulled up to look at you, he looked completely fucked out and you wondered how he hadn’t come already.

“Want you to come first, angel, okay?” Eddie asked you, desperation seeping through his words.

“No, no it’s okay. Please I want you to come. I need you to come for me, please baby–”

Eddie mewled and you pulled him down into a fiery kiss, the gentleness that had permeated everything you had done before suddenly disappearing.

“Jesus sweethear, you;re gonna kill me, oh fuck–”

Eddie groaned and you felt his hips stutter against yours as he came. You ran your fingers through his hair as he came. His grip on your thigh loosening and your leg dropping back against the mattress when his whole body went limp.

If he wasn’t already flush against you he would have collapsed.

You both breathed heavily as he came down from his high. You don’t know how long you lay there for, but Eddie slid his arm underneath your back and pulled you impossibly tighter against you as his head found its place back in your neck.

You were glad he was so fucked out, because you didn’t want him to pull out yet. You loved the feeling of him inside you.

“Sweetheart?” Eddie said into your neck.

You ran your nails along his scalp, humming in answer to his question, telling him you were listening.

“Thank you, fuck you’re. I–” Eddie stopped himself when he looked at you.

But you knew what he wanted to say. He just couldn’t yet. You understood.

“I know. I know, Eddie.” You comforted him and he kissed you, his tongue running over your lips and you stayed like that for a while. Soft, deep kisses shared as you both came to terms with what had just happened. What it meant.

Soon Eddie moved off of you, pulling out gently and tidying himself up. You expected him to come back with a warm washcloth to clean you up to. But when he walked back into the room he pulled you to the end of the bed and knelt down in front of you, pulling your legs over his shoulders.

“Eddie, what–”

“You didn’t come, sweetheart. That just won’t work.” Eddie said before he ran his tongue over your sensitive cunt and your hands dived into his hair and your back arched off the bed and the whole world seemed to go quiet again.

His tongue ran through your slit, alternating between sucking on your clit and dipping his tonuge inside you. You mewled and whimpered and he held his arm over your waist to keep your body pressed to the mattress. But leaving you enough space to grind your hips into his face, he mewled and pulled back to tell you how good you were being for him, that he wanted you to use him until you were seeing stars.

You didn’t last long after that. Your hand covered his that held your waist down and you threw your hea back, letting your hips mvoe against him and not hiding the moans that fell from your half-open mouth.

“Oh fuck me, Eddie– I’m gonna–”

“I know, come on angel, come for me.”

That was all it took for you to go over the edge for the second time. Eddie worked you through your orgasm again, only moving his mouth away from you when you were physically pulling back from the overstimualtion.

When you opened your eyes, as you felt the mattress dip around you, you saw Eddie. His star-flecked eyes looking at yours and you held him against you.

No one else could ever make you feel the way he could.

And no one else could make him feel the way you did.

You and Eddie spent the rest of the day in bed together. Limbs tangled and your head resting on his chest. His arms wrapped around you as he softly scratched your back whilst you talked about anything and everything.

It didn’t matter what you were talking about, it just mattered that you two were together.

You had sex a few more times that day, each time taking your breath away just like the first time. It was all slow and intended to show the other just how much you meaned to each other.

You fell asleep that night completely exhausted. You wrapped yourself around Eddie and he felt sure this was how he would fall asleep for the rest of his life.

You weren’t perfect. Neither of you were. But you didn’t want each other to be perfect- you just wanted you to be yourselves. And you were.

There was a lot to figure out, Too many things you had to discuss and learn about each other. But for now, this was enough.

And when you woke up the next morning, the sunlight hitting your faces from forgetting to shut the curtains, you only pulled the comforter over both do your heads.

Eddie stirred awake and pulled you tighter against him, his arms wrapped around you and you settled back against him, your face in his neck as he rubbed his hands up and down your back, lulling you back to sleep.

thank you so much for reading! <3

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