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#Performance of a lifetime AU
h4zardousch3micals · 4 months
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Stupid dumb stupid baby ruined everything (they have committed he heinous crime of not being perfect)
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lisired · 18 days
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supermodel
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pairing: photographer!haechan x (f) model!reader
genre/warnings: smut, angst, hollywood!au, photographer!haechan, model!reader, descriptions of vomiting, fluff, unsolicited comments, mentions of alcohol use (not while expectant)
summary: Five years ago, you left your hometown and ex to recreate your identity in California. Now, you're a staple of the fashion industry and on the front cover of magazines everywhere. Your hard work has paid off, but when you realize that you might be pregnant, you have to decide whether you want to be a full-time model or a full-time mother.
word count: 23k
a/n: at last, here she is! thank you for your patience, i know it was a long wait. this is a sequel to love jones. as always, feedback is appreciated!
Smiling from ear to ear, the giddy butterflies in the pit of your stomach just wouldn’t leave. Given that they’d been there for five years, it was safe to assume they never would. 
Five years of romance. To celebrate, you and your boyfriend decided on cooking your own dinner at home. Your boyfriend was not a qualified cook (a couple of incidents and he was strictly prohibited and sidelined from food preparation duties) which made the night both fun and a nightmare. 
When Haechan asked you for dinner suggestions, you were very adamant that you wanted lobster. Which surprised him, given that you’d been to a handful of seafood restaurants and you never expressed a taste for lobster, though he reckoned you wanted to be fancy for your five-year anniversary. 
“Baby,” you whined. “Is it just me, or is it really hot in here?”
“It’s hot because you’re here,” Haechan flirted in a heartbeat. Some things never changed. 
You rolled your eyes, whining, “Seriously. Aren’t you about to burn up? I feel like I’m going to die.”
“Only thing I feel like I might die of is hypothermia. If anything, it’s kinda cold to me, baby.”
You frowned, finding that questionably odd. You had already taken off his insulating leather jacket, left in nothing but a tank top, and you didn’t want to remove any other layers in fear of getting lobster juice all over yourself. Maybe it was a metabolism thing. 
Haechan pointed to your wine glass with his own. “Aren’t you going to drink that? You always want wine.”
Glancing down, you noticed your filled wine glass that you had hardly touched. Even when you were out celebrating with your agent and a couple of other staff, you declined the offer for wine. Your agent was shocked. She knew you loved to get wine drunk. “Not really in the mood.”
If your boyfriend thought that something was out of the ordinary, he didn’t say anything. 
After a while, you started to forget about your suspicious behavior. Time quickly lost its meaning as you chatted with Haechan, running your mouths like the two people who never shut up that you were. To this day you still perfectly matched each other’s energy. Five years down, a lifetime left to go. 
You were twenty-six now, Haechan twenty-eight. Though your grandmother liked to joke that you were catching up to her, sometimes you didn’t feel like you were pushing thirty. Notably when you were with Haechan. His ability to make you feel like a teenager in love needed to be studied.  
In those five years, not only had you developed your relationship with the love of your life, but you also made your name known within the industry. Of course, your success wasn’t without a couple of setbacks and near career-ending allegations, but you somehow came out on top in the end. 
Haechan also had a lucrative career. From being hired to take pictures of lowkey performers on tour to becoming a chief photographer with his own studio that worked with wealthy media moguls, he had obviously come extremely far. And he was only getting more popular amongst affluent patrons. 
All in the span of five years. You never would have guessed. Five years ago, you lived in a condo downtown. Now, you lived in a comfortable house with Haechan and you couldn’t be happier. 
Out of nowhere, you started to feel as if you were going to be sick. You stood from the table, muttering “bathroom” when your boyfriend tossed you a baffled look. 
Haechan let you be. He figured you just had to pee. You were doing that more often for whatever reason. 
Though you tried to be indifferent about the sudden involuntary motions in your stomach, you were quick to make a beeline for the bathroom in fear of vomiting all over the floor. 
You headed straight for the toilet and kneeled on the floor, bracing your hands on the seat while you retched and dry-heaved into the bowl. Your mouth felt almost painfully dry afterwards and all you could taste was the scorching feeling of bile. 
This was absolutely ridiculous and you didn’t understand what was happening to you. Though you weren’t particularly a fan of lobster, you could usually handle seafood. Maybe having Haechan help you cook wasn’t the smartest idea. 
Speak of the devil, he called from the other side of the door, “Baby, you good in there?”
“Uh, no,” you muttered just loud enough for his ears. 
Haechan’s voice sounded alarmed. “What’s wrong?”
Wincing at the sight of greenish-yellow vomit, you flushed the toilet and stood to vigorously wash your hands. “I kinda threw up.”
“What? Was it something you ate? Baby, I love your cooking, but I’ve been trying to tell you that all that butter is not good for your stomach.”
“I really don’t think that’s the problem,” you droned irritably. 
Haechan joked, “What - are you pregnant or something?”
Something about those words made you freeze right in the middle of drying your hands with paper towels. Pregnant, you realized. It was all coming back to you. Haechan fucked you raw not too long ago. And you couldn’t remember the last time you had a period. 
Silence was never a good thing for either of you and the worry was evident in Haechan’s voice. “Baby, you’re not actually pregnant. Right?”
Your eyes were wide as you exclaimed, “I don’t know!”
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah,” you said shakily. 
The door opened, Haechan revealing himself. He was quick to notice the panic on your face and grabbed your hand in his, crooning, “Baby, talk to me. What’s going on?”
You inhaled a deep breath through your nose, exhaling one large puff of air. “Okay, remember I had my IUD removed?”
Haechan’s brows furrowed. “Uh huh.”
“And then I went off the pill because they were giving me migraines,” you added frantically. 
“Yeah, so we started using condoms.”
“Right,” you said, nodding your head. “But that one time we ran out…”
Haechan continued, “And you begged me to fuck you anyway?”
“That’s not the point,” you hissed. “The point is we had sex without a condom, I don’t remember having a period, and now I’m puking everywhere.”
“Well, if two plus two equals four…,” Haechan trailed. 
You snapped, “Can you be serious for once?”
Haechan grabbed your wrist, kissing the back of your hand tenderly to console you. “I am being serious. I think we should buy a pregnancy test or ten. Just to be certain.”
You reminded, “It’s late. All the pharmacies are closed.”
“Then, we go first thing tomorrow,” was Haechan’s solution. 
His touches were enough to ease your mind for a little. You nodded in acceptance, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes. This was a frightening moment and you were glad that you weren’t alone. 
As soon as the following day, you and Haechan were on your way to a local pharmacy on his motorbike. His red motorbike, might you add. Though the sleek black one was directly involved in a number of good memories, one too many stunts had maimed her. You surprised him with another one for his birthday last year and he fell in love without a second thought. 
The pharmacy was busy at this hour. Though Haechan’s suggestion of getting ten pregnancy tests was somewhat dramatic, you did make sure to grab a couple packs of two. It was better to be safe than sorry, after all. 
You rushed to the bathroom the second you were back home, telling Haechan you would be back after a moment to tell him the results. You were clear that he waited outside the door. Your brain amassed hectic thought after hectic thought and it was driving you crazy. 
Over the next couple of minutes, you sat antsily on the toilet lid and waited. According to the instructions on the box, your fate would be decided in as little as a few minutes. If you waited too long, your results could display inaccuracies. 
You were just so scared. If you were pregnant, that could change everything. Your nerves were worked and you could feel the stress in your shoulders as much as you tried to feign a semblance of order. 
When the three minutes were up, you braced yourself with one big breath and found the courage to check the lines. 
You sucked in a breath. Not a single one was negative. 
“Oh my god,” you gasped. 
“What’s wrong?” Haechan asked frantically, leaning against the door. This was just as nerve-racking for him as it was for you. 
“They’re positive,” you exclaimed. “All four of them!”
That was Haechan’s cue to open the door, immediately grabbing a hold of you. You looked like your weight would drop to the floor any second now. “Okay, babe. Breathe,” he whispered. 
You braced your hands on the counter. “I can’t. This is too much.”
“Sit,” Haechan said, holding you steadily in his arms. Like hell he would let you go in a time like this. 
You sat on the fluffy toilet lid again, your head spinning. Nothing could describe how light your limbs felt in that moment. Or your head. 
“There’s a one percent chance they’re wrong,” Haechan told you in reminder. 
You shook your head. “Really? You think all four of them are wrong?”
Haechan took your tone in stride. “That’s not what I said. What I meant is I think you should contact your doctor. We can’t be too sure.”
Well, you couldn’t argue with that logic. It was the obvious thing to do. The second you calmed down enough to speak without shaky breath you called your health care provider and scheduled an appointment with your physician. 
In a couple of days, you met with your primary physician, Haechan insisting that he wanted to be there. You made no argument. This baby was his just as much as it was yours and he made it a point to remind you that he wanted to be a part of every second. 
For half an hour, the nurse's kind words in between constant beeps as she asked you for medical information was all you heard while your thoughts waged war. Even the faint chatter from the small TV mounted in the corner of the room didn’t register. 
Footsteps jolted you out of your thoughts for a moment and you were a little more at ease when your doctor finally entered the patient room. There was a fleeting, kind greeting and she recounted your concerns as you’d briefed them over the phone just to be sure she was correct. 
It was the most tense moment of your life. Had you not been holding Haechan’s fingers with one hand and bracing the chair with the other, you would have been chewing your nails. 
After a couple of non-invasive tests, a suspenseful few minutes, and a transvaginal prenatal ultrasound, it was concluded that you were seven weeks pregnant. The whole room was reeling. Your doctor told you that she would have to run a few scans to ensure that you weren’t exposed to a high-risk pregnancy, but you could decide within two weeks if you wanted to terminate through medication. 
Not only were you seven weeks pregnant, but seven weeks pregnant with dizygotic twins. Non-identical, your doctor explained. If you preferred, you could come back in three weeks to determine the sex. 
“Twins,” you rasped. “Two babies. Wow.”
Sitting in your car, you gripped the seatbelt with your life. Haechan insisted that you take your car instead of his bike considering that you were more than likely pregnant, and since he didn’t know the risks associated with pregnant mothers on a motorbike, he decided it was better to play it safe. 
Though your doctor revealed that minimum travel within the first few months of your pregnancy was generally not a threat unless you were going a lengthy distance. Much to your boyfriend’s happiness.  
It was quiet while you two sat in the parking lot, save for the Mark Lee song playing faintly on the radio. He was grammy-nominated now. 
There was a long pause before you could speak. Haechan was the same, looking paler than usual. You almost couldn’t breathe. Your head was still stuck in that neutral-toned hospital room and the scent of antiseptics still wafted through your nostrils. 
The whole parking lot was upside down as you fretted, “I’m pregnant. Oh my god. Wow. I’m pregnant!”
“Hey,” Haechan started, reaching over the center console and grabbing your hands in his. There was another pause before he continued speaking. “We’re pregnant.”
Your eyes flickered. Then, you burst into laughter. That was the last thing you expected him to say. 
Haechan was grinning, glad that he could make you laugh even if it was just for a moment. Your doctor was clear that stress was very harmful for the kids. “I’m serious!”
“Okay,” you replied. Though you were still giggling. “We’re pregnant.”
“You better know.”
You sighed, leaning against the door window. The ultrasound displayed not one, but two tiny embryos currently sharing your uterus. And they were only growing. 
Handing the ultrasound to Haechan, you let it all sink in, starting, “When I was twenty-one, pregnancy was the last thing on my agenda. Jae wanted to slow down, but I didn’t want to stop. I was just getting started. I mean, I still am, it’s only been five years.”
Haechan flinched at the mention of your ex. It was rare that you brought him up in conversation. For good reason. “And you’ve still accomplished so much.”
“Yeah, but I wanna accomplish more. If I have a baby, I have to take a break from the grind to be a mother. And god forbid I let somebody else raise my kids,” you grumbled. 
Haechan quickly saw what the problem was. “Okay, baby, stop. This isn’t the end. You’re pregnant, but that doesn’t mean you become my housewife and die. I wouldn’t ever try to put the brakes on you.”
“I know, but…”
“Listen,” he said. “We can always make more babies another time. Your life isn’t over.”
You huffed, “I have, like, four years before that ship sails and it’s in god’s hands.”
“Anything could happen in four years.”
You heaved another breath. “True,” you replied. Even two years from now you could decide that you wanted to settle down. 
It just felt like there was so much at stake. You were a model, for fuck’s sake. Very much a celebrity. Not only did you love your job and having two babies mean you would have less time to devote to yourself, but everyone would be watching them the same way they watched you. 
When you went out, there was guaranteed to be a camera not far behind. You couldn’t even get lunch with a friend without being borderline stalked wherever you went. Masks and disguises barely helped.
Anybody that was a friend of yours was a friend of the media. Your whole life was on the internet and there was always a magnifying glass being held close to your face. Every second of your life you were being examined and judged by people who didn’t even know you. Expectations were a constant weight on your shoulders. 
“If I have these kids, I don’t want them to grow up in the eyes of the media,” you started sternly. “I subject myself to judgment and scrutiny every day I step out of my house. Babies don’t deserve that.”
Haechan bobbed his head in agreement. “Then, I watch them. And if I’m busy, then we get a babysitter.”
You huffed, “And trust a stranger with our child?”
The look of horror on Haechan’s face immediately declined that offer. “I’ve got family here. We can pay my cousin or something. Look, baby, we’ll figure this out. Together.”
You squeezed his hand, stifling tears. There was so much weight on your heart. It was almost suffocating until you remembered that you weren’t alone.
For the next couple of weeks, you mulled the decision over. You didn’t tell anyone that you were pregnant - not even your grandmother or Haechan’s parents, who referred to themselves as your in-laws, even though you and Haechan weren’t married. 
That thought tickled something in your brain. Marriage, you hypothesized. And a family. Deep down inside, it was something you always wanted, but you never knew when. You always figured the day would come where you would just know. 
That day had come. 
It isn’t the end of the world, you consoled, having had time to be reasonable with yourself. You were far enough in your career where it wouldn’t weaken your income if you took some time to be lowkey. Haechan, the brainiac that he was, even suggested you endorse baby products. 
Everything felt so earth-shattering to you that you’d been confused into thinking weighing your options meant you only had one choice. Your mind was quick to wander, wondering if that was a symptom of carrying a developing baby. 
You breathed easier when it finally hit you that you didn’t have to choose between the career you loved and starting a family with the man you loved. Because you wanted both and you would have both. Even if it was in moderate amounts. 
At ten weeks, you were back in the doctor’s office to determine the sex of your babies. Haechan was hoping for boys while you were hoping for girls. Imagine your shock when Doctor Stakes congratulated you on carrying a boy and girl. 
By the end of the first trimester, you decided that you would be keeping the babies and your career. Haechan was both over the moon and a little anxious knowing that he would be a first-time father. Neither of you knew what you were doing and that made it as scary as it was exciting. 
Still, nobody knew. Outside of your symptoms, it wasn’t too obvious. Your baby bump wasn’t very big yet. 
“No smoking, no drinking, no hot tubs or saunas, moderate caffeine intake, no raw seafood,” you grumbled, recalling Doctor Stakes’ very detailed explanations of what was and was not healthy during your pregnancy. 
“Well,” Haechan started, plopping down on your shared mattress. “She did say we could still have lots of sex.”
You immediately rolled your eyes. “I believe her exact words were sex will not hurt our babies as long as my pregnancy is without health complications and I don’t start to experience bleeding, high blood pressure, and premature contractions.”
Haechan gently grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap, retorting, “You look fine to me. How do you feel?”
“Good,” you sighed, getting comfortable on his thighs. “Different, but not bad different. Good.”
Haechan leaned into your ear and purred, “Which translates into good for lots of sex.”
You playfully hit him, pretending to be irritated. You knew he was only kidding. Kind of. 
Doctor Stakes was straightforward but thorough in her explanations, walking you through the route of pregnancy with more than a couple of recommendations prioritizing the best potential health of you and your unborn babies. She said that sex was perfectly fine during the first five through six months. Something about your babies being cushioned by your abdomen and amniotic sac fluid.
Whatever the hell that is, you remembered thinking. She also suggested you enroll in a parenting class just so that you knew what to expect. It was not rare for first-time parents to take them and they were apparently super helpful. 
It seemed strict, but you knew it was best for your children’s development, especially in the early stages. Though you would miss the freedom of your old life. “I kind of miss alcohol just because I can’t have it.”
“I’m not giving you any,” Haechan said, voice stern. 
You snorted. “I wasn’t asking. I’m not an idiot. It’s just… this is my life now. It’s gonna be hard.”
Kissing your cheek tenderly, Haechan replied, “Well, if you can’t drink, I won’t drink either.”
That surprised you and you wanted to know if he was joking or not. “Seriously?”
“Duh,” Haechan said. “Like I said, we’re pregnant. Anything you can’t have, shit, I can’t have it either. I guess we’re both abstaining.”
“You don’t have to,” you whispered, though you liked the idea of him doing it anyway. It made your heart flutter. 
Haechan shrugged. “Yeah, but I would feel like a dickhead for enjoying things that I know you can’t have right in your face. Besides, my liver is probably screaming ‘thank god.’”
You snickered, bringing your lips to his. That turned you on. You couldn’t even explain it. There was just something so hot and attractive about the words leaving his mouth and you decided you wanted him. 
Letting your eyes flutter closed, you quickly tangled yourself in thoughts of him and him only; like a stimulant that only got more lethal with every hit. Sometimes it did feel that way. Like pleasure of this magnitude was too mind-numbing to be free. 
Innocent touches became gestures of desperation. Haechan kissed you like he couldn’t get enough, hands zipping to your tender breasts while you looped your arms around his neck. He somehow only got better at kissing. You didn’t even know how that could happen. 
Almost like you brought out the best in each other. 
“Fuck,” you groaned, eyes snapping open. 
Haechan instantly noticed and was quick to halt his actions in case he was causing you discomfort. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
You shook your head. “No, it’s just my boobs… They’re a little sore.”
Haechan chirped, “Nothing I can’t take care of.”
You giggled when he carefully lowered your weight onto the bed, lifting your shirt above your head and quickly getting rid of your bra. A moan left you when he caught a nipple in his mouth, gently kneading the other one in his hand. 
There was something so addictive about the feeling of your boyfriend’s warm mouth on your body. You couldn’t help but exhale and moan, just comforted by the fact that he was supplying you warmth. His hands wandered, too, always soft and tender. Whatever moisturizer he was using was doing god’s work. 
“Babe,” you sighed out. Both your mind and body were relaxed and that was exactly what you needed, all things considered. 
His tongue passed over your erect nipples, feeling them harden at his touch. Your boyfriend’s goal was to make you feel completely worshiped and he was doing a great job, for lack of a better word. Given that you were the one responsible for carrying and birthing two babies, he concluded that god could only be a woman. 
But you were getting way too worked up and it was driving you to the edge. “Baby,” you called. “I want more.”
There was an erotic wet sound when Haechan pulled away from your boobs. “Are you sure? I was just kidding about the whole sex thing earlier.”
“No you weren’t.”
“No I wasn’t.”
You snorted. Classic Haechan. 
Haechan quickly sobered again, whispering, “But I still wanna make sure this is what you want.”
You appreciated his concern, but the longer you waited, the quicker the heat pulsed between your legs and you couldn’t shake it anymore. “Haechan, I literally could not be more sure when I say I need your cock inside me.”
King of playing it cool that he was, Haechan pretended that those words weren’t like throwing gasoline on a field of already blazing thoughts. At least until he got inside you. Then, he had no thoughts. Brain empty. And he couldn’t help but bare his soul to you. 
Pussy made him talk. There was absolutely nothing that he could hide when he was balls deep inside you. 
Haechan shifted between your thighs, thanking god that you decided to wear a skirt today. His patience was wearing thin by the second and knowing how much you wanted him only strengthened his need. 
You could only feel your heart thumping and his body heat wafting over you. Other things seemed so much smaller and irrelevant than they were. 
Your panties came off with a yank and your glistening folds had Haechan’s undivided attention. “Shit, you’re so wet. I didn’t even do anything,” he said marvelously. 
“Shut up,” you huffed, though it wasn’t sincere. Little things about him being committed to being a father turned you on. He didn’t understand how scary it was to be alone. 
Haechan chuckled. “As you wish.”
You knew it wouldn’t be too long before he opened his mouth again and you weren’t complaining. 
Overcome with want and the need to do something, you lifted yourself up and crawled towards Haechan to help him undress his pants down his legs. Haechan let you do as much, but the second his bare cock was out, he was gently pushing you back down.
You pouted, lips tucking out. “I wanna do something.”
When you were comfortably on your back, Haechan started to rub his cock. “No,” he said, borderline teasing. “You can lay here and let me take care of you.”
His cock had your attention, your eyes fixed to how hard he was. “Okay.”
Haechan parted your legs again, gentler than typical. “On the plus side,” he started, holding his dick between your thighs. “I can’t get you pregnant if you’re already pregnant.”
You quipped, “That’s actually not impossible. Something called superfetation. I heard about it a couple of months ago after searching on Google for too long. It’s super rare, though. Don’t worry.”
“I am about to superfetate this pussy,” Haechan groaned, obnoxious.
“You’re turning me off.”
Haechan laughed. 
After a moment of coating himself in your wetness and hearing your soft moans, Haechan decided he couldn’t take it anymore and slowly penetrated you. His jaw unhitched, more than a couple of sounds escaping him. 
You weren’t any better. He just made you feel so full. You liked when he made it seem like it was only the two of you and you existed for each other. 
Haechan was painfully hard inside you and desperate to move, though not before he said without room for argument, “Tell me if you want me to stop or if it hurts.”
You simply just nodded. There was nothing you wouldn’t do if it got him to fuck your brains out. 
Then, Haechan started to move. His hands were on your hips, serving as an anchor so that he wouldn’t lose himself completely as he drowned in your wet pussy. In a similar manner, you braced your hands on his shoulders, holding onto him for dear life. 
You were gazing at Haechan with one fatal combination of love and lust. They couldn’t be separated. Not after all the things that had been done and all the words that had been said. All you knew was that you had bared your body to him in the same way you’d bared your heart. 
“Baby, don’t stop,” you sighed, eyes fluttering shut. “Don’t stop.” There was a pressure building inside the walls wedged between your legs and it only came out when he was steadily rocking his hips into you. 
The whole room suddenly seemed a thousand degrees hotter and Haechan couldn’t breathe, exhaling loudly with labored breath. He couldn’t take that your pussy was so warm and tight, grumbling, “Fuck,” in between moans, smacking his hips into yours uncontrollably. 
For a half second, you made eye contact with Haechan, just before he was sucking at the pulse on your collarbone and you couldn’t help but cry out his name, his chest creating friction against yours just enough to not be uncomfortable. 
Haechan willed himself not to tighten his grip at the arc of your hips for the sheer reason that he didn’t want to hurt you. Not only did he not want to hurt you any more than you asked for, but the reminder that his children were growing inside your belly made him treat you like you were fragile. 
He wanted to ask you to marry him, but he was terrified that it was way too soon. This pregnancy wasn’t even planned. You would probably have a heart attack if he asked for your hand in marriage. He was no stranger to being chided for moving too quickly, though it was just his nature. 
Little did he know, you loved that about him. He could come off too strong sometimes, but beneath his fast jumps to get started was a zealous boy with big hopes for the future. 
“I love you,” Haechan whispered, lips brushing against your skin. 
Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his again. “I love you. You’re my everything.”
“You’re my everything and then some,” Haechan flirted. 
“You’re my everything and everything in between.”
Haechan started, “You’re my everything and…”
All it took was a kiss to the lips to effectively shut him up, grabbing his head and steering him closer to you. Like you weren’t already skin to skin. You sucked his tongue in your mouth, moaning at how his cock hit your sweet spot. 
You were just so consumed by him - entirely. Though you knew that there was no closer the two of you could be, you’d be damned if you didn’t try. 
Haechan’s hands wandered up to grab a handful of your breasts, gently squeezing the soft skin in his palms. He couldn’t get enough of the way you panted and sighed at his touch. There was no need for oxygen when he had you and he kissed you breathlessly until he thought he was going to die. 
Haechan exhaled with his mouth hanging open, “You cheated.” His lips were perfectly swollen, the sight winning a smile out of you. 
You giggled. 
With how your walls were kneading and gushing around his cock, Haechan knew that he wouldn’t last. His mouth watered at the thought of coming inside you since it had been so long ago. That one time just short of two months ago excluded, obviously. Though he hadn’t meant for it to happen. 
But first and foremost Haechan wanted to get you off and he steered a hand between your legs, thumbing your clit. You squirmed instantly, sensitive. 
Little moans of his name kept escaping from your lips. “Haechan, I’m going to come if you keep doing that,” you warned, though rocked your hips into his to match his pace. The pleasure was different from before and the intimacy was even more intense. 
Haechan chuckled breathlessly, staving off his orgasm for as long as he could. “That’s the point, baby.” 
There was a resoundingly wet squelch as Haechan continued to bulldoze his cock into your cunt, breezing through the air. Your hands flew to your face as you covered yourself, embarrassed, but he pulled them away just as quick. “Don’t hide.”
“Don’t you hear that? I’m embarrassed,” you blurted. 
Haechan shook his head, peering down at you with misty eyes, and growled, “Sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.”
You were breathless. Haechan silenced you by capturing your lips in one incapacitating kiss and you swore your heart stopped beating for a second.
He made it too easy to forget. Forget the all-consuming worries of eventual childbirth. The threat of kissing everything you’d ever known and wanted goodbye. And the fear of raising a child that might end up making the same mistakes as you. 
No words left your mouth as you parted your lips in a silent scream, trembling with the pressure of orgasm. You were a total disaster - you couldn’t stop moving, shaking and grinding yourself onto him even as your orgasm aggressively passed. 
Your orgasm ripped the soul out of you without leaving anything behind in a merciless act of overkill and you only slacked onto the mattress when it felt completely over. You heaved for breath, almost like you would never breathe again. You had never felt anything so vigorously. Every thought vacated your brain. 
Haechan was obviously not far behind - if the frequent pitched moans you were milking out of him were any indication - and you were borderline begging him to fill you again. This was a different strain of desperation than the kind that got you pregnant. This was more lethal. 
Your walls were pulsing around him and Haechan couldn’t take it, hissing your name when he came with a sharp cry. His hips didn’t still until he rode out his high, both of you moaning in a delighted sync when his cum dripped. 
“Fuck,” Haechan sighed, finally noticing how fast his heart was pounding against his chest. 
You started, “That was…”
“Intense,” Haechan finished. 
You nodded in agreement. Though it was enjoyable nonetheless. 
The two of you just sat there and wallowed in the afterhighs of sex for a bit. You were too exhausted to move and Haechan didn’t want to leave you alone. He spooned you in his arms for a total of fifteen minutes while the two of you chatted incessantly until you decided you finally had mustered enough strength. 
Time was a blur when Haechan helped you to your feet - not that you needed it yet - and led you to the bathroom where he proceeded to run the shower for both of you. After playfully washing each other’s backs, you went back to the bedroom clad in nothing but towels. 
For once, it was comfortably silent when you slipped back into bed. Then, to your surprise, Haechan started to cry. You gasped, “You’re crying!”
Hot tears stung Haechan’s eyes. Few things brought him to literal tears. He was just so over-thrilled to be the father of your babies. “Yeah.”
You cradled his face in your hands, kissing his lips. “We’re making two babies. We’re going to be parents. For the next eighteen years, they’re going to be our most paramount priority.”
Haechan knew that. You weren’t the only one that was going to be taking a step back from the grind, at least until you both grew a little more familiar with the parenting life. His decreased hours were non-negotiable and it helped that he was one of the co-owners. 
Not only was he going to be a father, but he needed to take time to be an even more devoted partner to you. Both of you were responsible for these children and the very last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you were carrying the weight by yourself.
Wiping the tears out of his blurry eyes, Haechan said, “I can’t believe you let a guy like me get you pregnant.”
You furrowed your brows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That I’m not exactly the type of dude people look at and go ‘he’s going to make an incredible father.’”
You liked that Haechan was being vulnerable with you. He started doing it more often ever since he realized that his indifference could drive you away. His feelings were deeper than he tended to lead on. When it came to you, he was an open book. 
“You’re going to make an incredible father. There. I said it,” you whispered. 
Haechan smiled, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. That was all he needed to hear. 
At sixteen weeks, your baby bump still wasn’t protruding even though you were definitely carrying twins. Doctor Stakes reassured you that everybody’s journey was different and your pregnant belly very well might not pop up until the end of the second trimester. 
And since you hadn’t announced that you were pregnant (you were conflicted), you working was still fully expected. Nobody asked questions. You considered yourself pretty damn slick. 
That was, until your agent knocked on your trailer while the crew were breaking. She was a down-to-earth, middle-aged woman named Patricia. 
“Hey,” you greeted, letting her inside. “Something wrong?”
Shutting the trailer door with a thud (this particular company tended to have faulty trailer doors), Mrs. Patricia shook her head gently. “Not particularly. I was curious about something and I wanted to speak with you woman to woman.”
That had your undivided attention. You set down the water bottle you’d been gulping back and prompted, “Yes?”
Mrs. Patricia started, “Excuse me if I’m overstepping, but… are you expecting?”
You blinked. “Is it obvious?”
“It’s in your nose.”
Your hand went up to your nose and you exclaimed, “What’s wrong with my nose?”
She gave you a look that sternly told you to lower your voice and replied levelly, “There is nothing wrong with your nose, but it is swollen.”
You had no idea what she was talking about and it was evident on your face. 
Mrs. Patricia explained, “Fluid retention. I had a swollen nose and hands during my pregnancy with my twenty-year-old, but it went away after my postpartum period.”
“Oh,” you replied quietly. 
“Congratulations, by the way. I think you would benefit from following up on the symptoms of pregnancy, just so that you know what to expect,” she suggested. “Again, I don’t mean to overstep.”
Though your mind was at a billion different places, you forced a smile and said, “No, it’s okay - thank you!”
But the second you came home, you were a different person. 
“Babe,” you called out, setting your keys in the tray near the door. Haechan told you that he would be home by now and you saw his motorbike parked in the garage. “Babe!”
Given the distance, his voice was faint, but you heard a faraway, “I’m coming!”
You stood there and patiently removed your shoes while you waited. There were now a handful of other things weighing on your mind and you didn’t know how to handle it by yourself. 
Haechan zipped downstairs, pleased to see you at the end of a long day. His hair was a beautiful mess at the top of his head and you could only guess he had been playing video games with Jaemin and Mark. 
Not that you were concerned about any of that right now. 
“Hey, baby. How was your day?” Haechan asked, coming up to you to trap you in a bear hug. Like he did everyday. 
But you weren’t at all in the mood for any of it, ignoring his question completely. “Is my nose swollen?”
That obviously wasn’t what Haechan thought you were going to say. “Huh?”
“You heard me.”
Haechan drew back, realizing you were in one of your moods again. Doctor Stakes mentioned that you were prone to mood swings and he would just have to deal with it in the gentlest way he could. “I mean, I didn’t wanna say anything, but it’s a little...”
“Oh my fucking god,” you exclaimed, stepping around him and bolting for the kitchen. 
Haechan was hot on your heels. “Babe, wait up!”
You threw open the snack pantry door, scanning them for your favorite chips, before remembering that you finished the bag last night. “Fuck, I forgot to order from the store!”
The words were right on his tongue, though Haechan knew better than to tell you to calm down. He was no stranger to your temper. His voice was level, calm. “We can always order more.”
Fresh tears dampened your face, burning while they blurred your vision. Reality was a mean little bitch with a hard punch. “Damn the chips! I can’t believe this.”
Haechan assumed it was a model thing. They were strict about your appearance and you always had to look a certain way. It was part of the reason why he never saw your career as an option for himself, though he wasn’t going to snitch about your junk food indulgence. 
Tentatively reaching out for you, Haechan kissed your face and cooed, “Hey, baby, listen to my voice. Your body is going to change. The doc said that’s completely normal. It’s nothing to lose your shit over.”
“It’s everything to lose my shit over!” you wailed. “I’m not mad about my fucking nose - I’m mad because I know nothing about bringing a baby into this world and I’m going to be a shit mother!”
“Don’t you dare say that,” Haechan told you, stern but still tranquil. You wholeheartedly envied it. 
“It’s true,” you huffed, sinking against the refrigerator. “My nose is swollen. I literally didn’t even know that was a thing! If I don’t know minor fucking details, how am I going to know how to parent?”
While you knew your agent had no foul intentions by commenting about your nose and there wasn’t a single mean bone in her body, you wished she would have kept it to herself. You couldn’t stop thinking about how you didn’t have this under control. This baby-making shit was not your strong suit. 
Other than the sex itself, although that was the last thing on your mind right now. 
It was completely unexpected for Haechan’s voice to drop the way it did. You had never seen him so serious. “We can take classes. Doctor Stakes recommended them, you know.”
You grumbled, “Why didn’t Doctor Stakes tell me that I was going to get a new nose?”
“She did, actually. Something about…”
“Fluid retention, I know. My agent told me,” you replied snappily. You were finally calming down, though hardly. Pregnancy came with its fair share of frustrations. Though it was also accompanied by the lack of energy to express them all. 
Haechan helped you off the ground, clearing your face of any tears with his thumb. “Is she the one that commented on your nose?”
You shrugged your shoulders but answered, “Yeah.”
“I think your agent should mind her bitter, decrepit business,” Haechan spat, though his tone was completely noncommittal. 
You snorted. “She’s not bad, Haechan.”
“I don’t care. It’s bad manners.”
You couldn’t argue with that. But it was nothing worth getting a new manager over and if anything you would just talk to her about boundaries. The only reason she was even on set was because you wanted her there. 
“The point is,” Haechan started, grabbing your hands and locking your fingers in his. “Every problem has a fix. I don’t know shit about this, either. You think I’ve been a father before? Must I remind you that you’re the only girl I’ve ever came inside of?”
You folded your arms. “And the only one you ever will.”
Haechan snickered, bobbing his head. You were lightening up and he could breathe a little easier. “Yes. And the only one I ever will.”
You let out a shaky breath. Though you still felt like ripping your hair out, you no longer felt the need to scream. Your lungs had had enough for one night. “Fine.”
“We’ll take classes together. I already managed my hours, so I’ve got time. You should tell the people you work for that you’re pregnant,” Haechan suggested.
You nodded. His constant touches killed your doubts again. Ultimately, they were no match against the love of your life. “How are you so nonchalant about this?”
Haechan shrugged like he had absolutely zero clue. “Old habits die hard, I guess?” He was internally panicking, but excellent at hiding it. Always had been. 
You hummed. Maybe it wasn’t the worst thing ever. 
“And by the way, you’re beautiful. Swollen nose or not,” Haechan said. “I think it’s cute.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Cute?”
“Yeah. Fits your face.” 
“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to put up with a hysterical pregnant lady,” you droned. 
Haechan didn’t try to deny it. Instead, he decided to lighten the mood, chirping, “Well, that’s what I get for being silly and not wrapping my willy.”
You forced your lips into a line, fighting a laugh. “That’s so stupid.”
“No glove, no love,” Haechan persisted, eager to get a laugh out of you. He wanted to see your shoulders shake and your nose do that cute thing it always did when you laughed at his jokes.
You playfully exclaimed, “Quit it!”
“You can’t go wrong if you shield your dong.”
That was the last blow your self-restraint could take and you finally burst out laughing like he wanted you to. 
Haechan was sporting a triumphant smile. He was always glad to put a smile on your face. Even (especially) for the most idioticly absurd of reasons. 
Your outburst eventually fizzled out and you thought back on something he said a couple of minutes ago, musing aloud, “Speaking of telling people that I’m pregnant, we haven’t told the clique.”
Haechan nodded. “I haven’t even told my parents. They’re gonna be so mad we waited almost twenty weeks. My mom’s been nagging me about when she can expect grandkids.”
“We should have a party. Get the gang in town and host a gathering at your parents’ house or something,” you proposed. 
Haechan’s brows furrowed. “Like a gender reveal party?”
You winced. “Goodness, no. Just, like, I don’t know. A pregnancy reveal party. But they can guess if they want.”
That wasn’t the best idea. Mark and Ryujin would probably have opposite guesses and flip the table over. Grabbing your wrist to press a kiss to the back of your hand, Haechan said, “Well, you know Mark’s been in Canada for the past two months and Winter is everywhere, but I’ll see what we can do.”
You didn’t want to get your hopes up - nowadays it was rare for all of you to be in town at the same time - but that had you excited. You couldn’t wait to share the good news. “I had another idea, too,” you whispered softly. 
Haechan led you to the living room so that you could sit down and asked, “What’s that?” 
Once you were off your feet, you played coy and confessed, “We should have a photoshoot at your studio when my bump gets big. Just me, you, and the two babies in my belly. A grand reveal to the entire world that I’m officially a mother.”
“Sold,” Haechan hummed in approval.
You couldn’t stop smiling. A part of you couldn’t wait for it to happen. Doctor Stakes mentioned that it could feel like your stomach grew out of nowhere. 
Within the next couple of days, you communicated with your consultants and the management at your agency and notified them of your pregnancy. You divulged that you were sixteen weeks along and fully intended to be a mother to your children. 
And in no uncertain terms. Given the flexibility of your schedules and hectic hours, they agreed that it was only fair you took off as much as you took on. You were offered six months, which you accepted thankfully, and were told to inform them when you would be starting two weeks in advance. 
When you delivered the news to Haechan, he couldn’t contain his excitement. Everyday the ongoing reminder of your looming childbirth settled in. His kids were developing inside your womb. He was going to be a father. You were going to raise two kids together in your shared home and every time he realized, he fell more and more in love with the thought. 
Only a few weeks later you were at his parents’ house watching Haechan and his father set up from the kitchen. Though you wanted to at least help with the baking, his mother was unshakeable in her ways and rigidly told you to sit and not move. 
She wanted her grandkids delivered in the best possible health. His parents were enthusiastic to discover that you were pregnant, though not without slight scolding. But they weren’t against a celebration. 
“I knew it. You know, a mother always knows,” his mother had told you while her son and his father were in the living room. 
You heard a knock at the front door a couple of hours later and separated from Haechan who was making out with you while his parents weren’t looking to greet your friends. The first person you heard was Mark. 
“What up,” Mark exclaimed when he strolled inside like he owned the place. 
Ryujin wasn’t far behind, obviously, but behind her was her boyfriend, Sunwoo. Every now and then, you were reminded that the guy actually existed, although he had come home from Chicago years ago. 
You gave them each kind hugs. “Hi, guys. Long time, no see.”
Ryujin spat, “Mark gets a Grammy nom that he didn’t even win and acts like he’s too cool for us now.”
“God forbid a man gets busy and goes to his home country,” Mark droned in stride. “Besides, I’ll get it next year.”
You nodded in approval. That was the spirit. 
“It’s good to see you, man,” Haechan said, pulling Mark in for a brief hug after doing the same with Sunwoo and Ryujin. 
Mark patted him on the back. “Same, dude. It’s good to have all of us together again.”
Sunwoo picked up some candies that were collecting dust in a bowl on the coffee table. “Are these peanut butter?”
“Yup,” you retorted. 
He quickly sat it back down.
Ryujin explained dryly, “He’s allergic.”
Pinching Haechan’s arm, you gave him a stern look, knowing he was on the verge of a snicker. 
You remembered something and mentioned to Mark, “Oh, by the way, I’ve been hearing your new single on the radio. It’s really good.”
There was a faint blush across Mark’s cheeks. “Thanks,” he chirped. 
“I did the cover art,” Ryujin added. 
Mark whined, “Why can’t you ever let me have my moment?”
You chuckled. It was good to have them all back. Other than Sunwoo, you were pretty updated on what they all had going on and though it drove them out of the city sometimes, you were endlessly happy for them. Mark was obviously the next big thing and was busy making global hits, touring the seven seas. 
On the other hand, Ryujin worked from home more often than not, typically only leaving California to go on vacation. She did art commissions notably for wealthy patrons and pitched in with Mark’s creative team whenever needed. 
Chaewon was also frequently home, owning a hair and nail salon here and all. You and Winter definitely took pictures and credited her in your Instagrams stories. Speaking of Winter, she was everywhere, much like you. More than once, you collaborated in a photoshoot or went to Paris Fashion Week together. 
Which left Jaemin. He was much more lowkey. After giving his master's degree last year, he finally started to work as a mechanical engineer. You couldn’t believe how smart he was, having skipped a grade and all. 
The others showed up a little later. Your stomach was turning with a mixture of nerves and excitement. You couldn’t wait to get the news off of your chest. You smiled when Haechan looped an arm around your waist, almost like he could sense your whirlwind of feelings. 
Some dancing and singing at the top of your lungs later and your worries were promptly forgotten. Chaewon, Winter, and Ryujin danced with you while the boys were laughing in their own circle. The whole room was entirely too chaotic and Haechan’s parents escorted themselves out minutes ago. 
Now it was time for the kids to really party. 
Mark, under the impression that this party was just a small get-together for friends who didn’t get to see each other often, glanced at you and asked, “Okay, rum, tequila, or vodka?”
You winced. “Oh, no. I can’t.”
Mark gaped. “What? I’m on tour for a few months and now you don’t drink?”
“Yeah, um, about that,” you said, gesturing for Haechan to cut down the music. “I have something to tell you guys.”
“You’re taking care of your acne? You’re breaking out more than usual,” Mark blurted without malice. 
Haechan cocked him a glare, deadpanning, “You know, Mark, it amazes me how you can always be so close yet so far away.”
Everyone was gazing at you with baffled looks. Then, you set your hand on your stomach, and it clicked. Mark gasped, “Don’t tell me…”
“I’m pregnant,” you announced, giggling when Haechan curled his arms around your waist as he hugged you from behind. 
He was quick to correct, “We’re pregnant.”
“Yes,” you said with a chuckle. “We’re pregnant.”
The nerves were back with a vengeance. You knew they were all going to have distinct reactions and the anticipation was killing you. You thought they might have chided you for being stupid. 
As it turned out, there was a chorus of excited noises and “congratulations” that you could hardly make out. Everybody was trying to speak over each other and you had to add, “Okay, one at a time. Please.”
Chaewon wasn’t shocked, almost like she expected it to happen, but had her hands on her hips in her typical fashion. “I’m your best friend and you didn’t tell me you were pregnant?”
You winced. “Sorry.” Expected backlash, you thought. 
“It’s okay,” she said, shoving Haechan out of the way to pull you in for a hug. Much to his annoyance. “I’m so happy for you.”
You chuckled at the sound of Haechan huffing from beside you. “Thanks.”
Mark was next. There were literal twinkles in his eyes. “I’m going to be an uncle?”
“Absolutely. Your niece and nephew are going to love you,” you retorted happily. 
Winter gasped, “You’re having twins?”
You bobbed your head. “Yes. One girl, one boy. We both wanted different things so I guess that was the universe’s way of being a diplomat.”
Winter snorted in amusement. She could already guess what your preferences were. “Oh, wow. Congratulations. Jaemin and I definitely aren’t having kids, so I’m cool with being the rich auntie.”
“Mm, three rich aunties. They’re going to be so lucky,” you dragged. 
Haechan droned, “And extremely spoiled.”
You giggled.
Sunwoo and Ryujin walked up to you. Ryujin was staring at you in adoration. “Have you painted the nursery? If not, can I please help?”
That was an absolute no-brainer. “We haven’t done a lot of things. We need as much help as we can get.”
Sunwoo glanced between you and Haechan and said, “Congratulations.”
“Thanks, man,” Haechan said, holding out his hand. 
Sunwoo firmly shook your boyfriend’s hand. Then, he looked to Ryujin, parting his lips to speak, and she snapped with a shake of her head, “Nope. Never.”
Sunwoo frowned. 
You giggled. It didn’t take a genius to understand he was about to ask her about having kids someday. 
Jaemin looked like he couldn’t believe his ears. Though, he had to admit it made sense. You and Haechan just couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. “You’re pregnant?”
“Very.” 
“Wow,” he replied, shaking his head in disbelief. “And I thought we had enough Haechan walking around.”
“Dude, I’ll kick your ass,” Haechan hissed. 
Jaemin threw up his hands in a gesture of innocence. “Kick my ass after the party’s over.”
Winter wandered over again, a drink in her hand, and quipped, “You know, this whole time I thought you were going to get Haechan pregnant.”
That got a giggle out of you. “No worries. I’m gonna peg him tonight.”
Haechan was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. 
While you went to go find Chaewon and whisper something in her that made a smile crawl its way onto her lips, Haechan and Jaemin excused themselves from the room for a minute. 
The garage was hot and stuffy, a stark contrast from the ventilated and free energy of the party, but it was the perfect place to have a private conversation ideally without any unwanted listeners. 
Haechan mounted one of his dad’s old bikes (his father was still an avid bike fan no matter how long it had been since he rode one). He wasn’t going anywhere, but he needed a distraction. 
Holding a beer, Jaemin nudged his best friend and asked, “You don’t want a drink?”
“No, I can’t,” Haechan replied, voice distant.
Suit yourself, Jaemin thought. Then, thinking back to something you said, he teased, “Guess she was serious about that pegging shit, huh?”
Haechan snapped, “Do I ask you how you’re fucking Winter?”
Jaemin made a face before downing what was left of his beer. “Good point, my friend.”
Haechan was obviously in his head, which meant nothing good. As always. He wasn’t unhappy - the opposite, rather - but this was one of those days where everything felt unreal. 
If there was anything he knew, it was that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. His little voice in his head snapped, Damn eighteen fucking years. You were his until he died. 
The silence was getting off-putting, thus Jaemin started, “So, a baby.”
“Yeah,” Haechan answered blankly. It was almost like he wasn’t ever there. His surroundings be damned. 
Jaemin was officially miffed. “You wanted to come out here to talk to me about something, man. Open up, brother. What’s on your mind?”
Haechan shook his head. He was in desperate need of direction. He huffed, “I don’t know, bro. I’ve never felt shit like this before.”
That piqued Jaemin’s attention. All he could think of was how badly his brother in everything but blood needed a drink or a cigarette, though he correctly assumed he was abstaining for your sake. “Like what?”
“That’s the thing. I can’t explain it. I mean, I put a baby in her,” Haechan started, conflicted. “Two babies. You know that we wavered a long time before she decided that she wanted to keep them?”
“Well, I do now.”
Haechan’s features were tensed in his typical pensive gaze. “I support her regardless of what her decision would have been, and I made sure she knew that, but I was secretly hoping that she wanted to keep it. Because I realized what I wanted.”
Jaemin prompted, “What do you want?”
“Everything. I wanna do the whole nine. I wanna start a family with her. I wanna pick up the kids after school. Make the three of them breakfast in the morning. I wanna spend every second of my life next to her. When I die, I want to be buried next to her grave.”
Jaemin tilted his head with suspicion. “Haechan, do you wanna marry her?”
“Yeah. I wanna marry her,” Haechan answered. He was finally confirming it - aloud. “Is it too soon?”
“That’s not for me to decide,” Jaemin said kindly. 
Haechan sighed. 
Jaemin gave him a pat to the shoulder and added, “Hey, bro. The worst she can say is ‘no.’”
There was a war-waging storm inside of Haechan. He was prepared to kiss the ground that you walked on. “She’s the mother of my babies…,” he trailed. 
Though Haechan tried to blink his tears away, his emotions and love for his family was too goddamn strong. His heart beated for the three of you. This paternal responsibility added a brand new meaning to his life. A different purpose. 
Jaemin noticed his best friend’s tears and immediately opened his arms. “Dude, come here.”
Haechan marched over and let Jaemin sweep him into a borderline aggressive hug. There was thunder in his heart and he could feel it shaking everything he’d ever known. This kind of euphoria was foreign to him, but he never wanted it to stop. 
When he pulled back, Haechan wiped his face and muttered, “Don’t tell them I cried.”
Jaemin snickered, patting his friend on the back. “Don’t worry, man. I got you for life. Your secret’s safe with me.”
Haechan blew out a shaky breath. “By the way, my girlfriend and I talked, and we decided that we want you to be the godfather.”
Jaemin pointed to himself with his finger. “Me? Why not Mark? What do I know about god?”
Haechan snickered. “Think of it as being the highest ranking uncle.”
“I like that. Uncle Jaemin. It’s got a nice ring to it,” Jaemin replied, nodding with approval. 
“What about Dad?”
Jaemin grimaced. “That’s not funny. I have nightmares about that.”
Haechan laughed. 
As soon as that was over, Haechan and Jaemin slipped back into the party so naturally it was almost as if nothing ever happened. He found you sipping on an iced tea in an attempt to quench your thirst. 
You cocked a brow at him. “Everything okay?”
Haechan bobbed his head. Then, he stole your glass out of your hands and took a sip, much to your annoyance. “Yeah. Why?”
“Just asking,” you replied, snatching your drink back. 
Tempted to giggle, Haechan held it back when a thought crossed his mind. “I’m not having second thoughts.”
“I know.” You also knew his secret, familiarized with the little gleam in his stare, though you decided against mentioning it. 
Haechan grinned, taking your available hand in his, and asked, “Wanna dance?”
“I was wondering when you would ask,” you retorted, setting down your glass and leading him to the center of the floor. 
Heat fluttered in your chest when you felt Haechan get closer to you. With his hands at your hips and yours at his shoulders the two of you started to sway around the floor, earning a number of exhilarated noises from your friends in the room. 
But it still felt like it was just you two, like it did all those years ago when you realized for the first time that there was something so different about him. For lack of a better word, he was just so mesmerizing. You remembered wanting to know everything there was about him. 
Bliss made you close your eyes and make a wish to the stars, hoping for an eternity with the man you loved and the life you made together as partners. 
From the corner of your eye, you noticed Sunwoo excuse himself from this fascinatingly beautiful moment to accept a phone call. Not that you minded. You were entranced in that moment and everything else had little consequence. Your heart was dancing inside your chest and on the floor. 
Haechan pressed a kiss to your brow, looking at you with total undeniable affection. His eyes were sparkling again though not with tears - with adoration. This man would steal the moon for you and then proceed to wish on every star for a thousand more moons to gift you. 
Only if he knew that there was an impending danger he should’ve wished away. 
Sunwoo entered the room again and walked towards the two of you, which made you both stop and curiously gaze at him before he said, “It’s for you.”
You were baffled. “Who is it?”
“Jeno.”
Haechan’s face paled. 
Without thinking, you took the phone and pressed it to your ear, then said less than amicably, “Hello?”
Jeno’s voice was quick to fill your ears, an air of surprise to his tone when he spoke your name. “Hey. Don’t hang up, please.”
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t,” you hissed. 
The room was silent while you talked. The music was cut again and everybody’s eyes were fixed to you, watching this phone call unfold with interest. Nobody dared to say a word, but the disdainful feelings were pretty much obvious. The anger in Haechan’s eyes almost matched the ire in yours. 
“Because I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” you repeated. “That’s all you have to say?”
Jeno sighed from wherever the hell he was. “Listen, I want to talk, but I don’t want to have this conversation over the phone. I was thinking maybe we could meet up somewhere.”
“Just a second,” you replied, handing Sunwoo back his phone while you dragged Haechan over to a corner. 
Judging from the mere force of your actions, you were clearly upset and it didn’t take a genius to point that out. Haechan was ready to pummel this guy to the ground for your sake. “What happened? What did he say?”
“He wants to meet up. I guess he wants to apologize,” you whispered.
Haechan exclaimed, “What?”
You put your finger to his lip. “He said that he was sorry.”
Frustration made Haechan cross his arms with a mean-looking scowl on his lips as he huffed, “And you want to entertain this fool?”
You shrugged. You were obviously angry and feigning indifference, covered head to toe in unadulterated rage, but there was something in you that wanted to give Jeno the benefit of the doubt. “Call it curiosity. But I’m not going out pregnant. I’m not ready for the world to know yet.”
“Okay, so I go.”
You had already thought of that, pondering all your options in a five-minute time span, but quickly responded, “Yeah, but I kind of wanna be there when shit goes down. How about we invite him over?”
Haechan was seething. “You want to invite him over to the house where we’re going to raise our son and daughter?”
“We need a bigger house anyways,” you answered flatly, exhaling a breath. 
“Bigger than ours?”
“Bigger than ours.”
Haechan frowned for a moment, though after a moment or two of contemplation, he relented. “Fine. But I want to do all the negotiating.”
You bobbed your head. “Fair.”
Haechan politely asked Sunwoo for his phone again, then switched on a dime when he spoke sharply, “Hello?”
Neither of you could see the way Jeno’s eyes flickered with shock. “Haechan.”
Haechan snapped, “Don’t give me that shit, man. Did you change your number?”
Jeno faltered with confusion. “No?”
“Good. I’m going to text you our address. You’re going to be at our front door step tomorrow afternoon at two o’clock sharp or else you’ll be turned away at the door. And you better tell me something I want to hear or I’m kicking your ass.”
There was a lull of silence as Jeno processed those words. 
Haechan immediately added, “Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Goodbye,” Haechan said, promptly hanging up the phone and returning it to its owner. 
Mark was not shockingly the first to speak. “That was… intense.”
You shrugged. “I thought it was hot.”
“Of course, you did,” Mark teased. 
Haechan shook his head. It felt like the more the days passed, the more there was on his mind. 
Regardless of unfortunate events, you refused to allow them to ruin the celebration. Assertively, you demanded that somebody put the music back on and encouraged your boyfriend to bust a move. Socializing and having fun was the quickest way to make him forget the unforgettable. 
Even though you were less expressive in your contempt, it obviously put you at unease as well and you were also in fine need of an effective distraction. A drink would have been nice for knocking back inhibition, but you’d resigned yourself to the fact that you had months before that was a viable solution. 
Plus something that you learned as you bordered closer onto your thirties was the significance of letting loose without the need for recreational use. There was something more special about bonding sober. 
Priorities shifted. Like how you were steadily beginning to value your personal life over your career and image. When you were in your early twenties, everything felt more life-and-death than it was. Now, the most pivotal moment of your life would be successfully giving birth. 
Later that night, those were the thoughts battling in your mind until noon that day. It seemed like every day you were making changes in your day-to-day routines to accommodate your new life. Changes that you were so certain at one point would feel like the end. 
You knew now it wasn’t anywhere close to the end. If anything, it was a new beginning and a transition to a new stage of your life. You were standing at the threshold of parenthood. 
That wasn’t to say you were going to remain indoors for the rest of your life until you wilted and succumbed to eventual fate. Or become a housewife and die, as Haechan had humorously put it. Granted, you realized how vital it was to be a little more laid-back and would undoubtedly shelter your children, but you were already fantasizing about sending the kids to the grandparents for a fun night out. 
You wondered if Jeno had changed. All things considered. He was older, too, and closer to Haechan’s age than he was yours. Though five years didn’t seem like too long ago, you had seen a quantity of things occur in that time. 
And you weren’t just talking career-wise, though that technically helped your case. You were in no way a stranger to the upward spiral of Jeno’s career. Like you, he had a successful career in the fashion industry, walking down runways and posing for big shot photographers. 
On more than one occasion, you’d been invited to events at the same time, though you had considered yourself lucky to not have any face-to-face encounters with him and simultaneously practiced your professional skills if it inevitably were to happen. 
Maybe it was for the better. A way to prepare you for the hell that was today. Still, you couldn’t deny being anxious as you lounged on your couch. 
Checking your watch and noting that it was a minute before two, you exhaled, “What if he just doesn’t show up?”
Not a moment later, the doorbell rang. Oh, you thought to yourself. He’s always been punctual. 
“You have your answer,” Haechan droned. 
You took three stabilizing breaths when you watched Haechan leave the room to answer the front door. Maybe you should have let him take care of this. No, chided the voice in your head. This is both of your history. He shouldn’t go through this alone. 
Especially not when he was evidently opposed to it and only agreed because it was what you wanted. 
There was a disturbance in your brain when you saw Haechan round the corner and return with Jeno. This guy had essentially been off of your radar for so long that it was jarring to be confronted with the fact that he wasn’t a figment of your imagination. 
Jeno spoke your name. “Hi.”
You waved. As of this second, you didn’t have anything to say to him. 
“You can sit,” Haechan said when he sat next to you on the loveseat. He sounded bored. 
Jeno perched on the chair across from you, fumbling with his hands. You didn’t know Jeno for as long as Haechan had, but you still had never seen him anxious. 
You scanned your memory for any recollection of him being anything other than cocky and confident and ultimately turned up empty. His raging ego and dilated pride was his vice and had cost him more than you’d ever known.
Impatiently, Haechan prompted, “Well, are you here to twiddle your thumbs or…”
Normally, you would pinch his thigh for rude comments, but today he had a free pass. 
Jeno lifted his head to meet both of your eyes when he finally started, “I’ve spent six months trying to practice what I would say if I ever got the chance to apologize.”
Both you and Haechan had your arms folded, stubborn. Save for the unignorable vexation, your faces were borderline inscrutable. He picked the wrong duo to fuck over. The two of you were unrelenting. 
Jeno let out a little sigh and promptly continued, “I say six months, because it took me four years and a half to understand just how badly I fucked up. At first, it didn’t bother me that I lost seven friends on the same day. I was arrogant. I thought I didn’t need friends.”
You almost laughed. Almost. That much was obvious. 
“And I had that mindset for a long, long time. There’s just something about when you’re super young and you feel like you have the whole world at your feet. Obviously, the popularity didn’t help. When I started to become famous, people wanted to hang out with me.”
“Yeah, that tends to happen,” you quipped smartly. “They see you’re the next big thing and they hold onto you because that’s what you’re there for. To be their one-way ticket to stardom. Then, when they get what they wanted, you’ve exhausted your purpose.”
“Yeah.” Jeno bobbed his head in agreement. 
Haechan was not here to have a conversation about the brutal reality of being a superstar in the industry and his jaw clenched. “What made you realize that you fucked up?”
“What she said,” Jeno replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is a shallow job. Nobody was really my friend. I was either just their ride to fame or an accessory to make them look good. I realized how much I missed not only you two, but the whole gang, because you were the only people who cared about me beyond the surface.”
Haechan sighed. 
Jeno’s voice got quieter. Not emotional, but dangerously close. “In our clique, it didn’t matter if you were on track to being a celebrity or just some guy. You know?”
“Yeah. I know.”
You frowned. 
Haechan added, “So, you get lonely and decide you need us?”
“I know how that sounds, but…,” Jeno trailed. “But I’m sorry. I’m sorry for taking you for granted. I’m sorry for competing with you instead of being your friend.”
Haechan’s lips were in a hard line. 
Jeno flitted his gaze towards you. “I’m sorry for using you. It was beyond fucked up.”
“To be fair, I was using you, too.”
Jeno bounced his leg against the ground, attempting to thwart his nerves. At the back of his mind, there were many unspoken thoughts. “Yeah, but you didn’t leave a woman in the street by herself. I still haven’t forgiven myself for that. If something happened to you, it would have been all my fault.”
Just the thought triggered something spiteful inside you. “I’m glad you realize that.”
Knowing you better than anybody, Haechan could sense the fire smoldering inside of you, slipping his fingers through yours and squeezing. “This has been… whatever, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re stressing my baby mother out.”
Jeno spluttered, “Baby?”
“Yeah. A baby.”
Jeno’s eyes flickered in shock. “Wow, um. That’s amazing. Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” you replied, tone completely noncommittal. “We’ll think about it.”
You watched Jeno bob his head and reply with a quiet “thank you” as your boyfriend stood to see him out. With how your brain was practically like a wildfire, it felt like the epitome of madness. 
Haechan came back only a couple of moments later sporting a sour glower. 
You relaxed when he sat next to you. You didn’t realize that you’d been so stiff. “Well, what do you think?”
“I don’t know,” Haechan lied without realizing, because his skepticism wouldn’t allow him to admit his true feelings. 
Well, you knew exactly what you were thinking. “He seems genuine. I don’t think he has an ulterior motive. I mean, he’s doing great, he doesn’t need us.”
Haechan prompted, “But?”
You heaved a breath. Sometimes you hated that Haechan knew you so well. Better yet, he understood you perfectly. 
“But I don’t forget as easily as I forgive,” you said quietly, drifting endlessly in your thoughts like spacetime. 
Haechan huffed, “Me, neither.”
Without many uncomfortable amounts of stressful thoughts, your life went on. The world kept spinning no matter what you were going through and it did you no good to subject yourself to strain while you were carrying twins. Your doctor was clear that the risks associated with pregnancy grew with more than one child. 
Your body was undergoing so much change that you didn’t even step outside because you didn’t want the world to know that you were pregnant until you announced it yourself. Given that it was your first pregnancy, you wanted it to be unforgettable. 
The baby bump felt like it happened overnight. You couldn’t stop gawking at yourself in the mirror, in disbelief that there was something coming to life inside of you. They were starting to move around, too. You cried when you noticed the fluttering in your belly, almost like butterflies. 
Every day you were counting down the seconds until the photoshoot until in a blink, the day had finally come. Haechan, the gentleman that you had fallen in love with, had everything set up at his studio and was rigid with the staff, though nonetheless polite. You were beaming. Not many opportunities arose for you to see him work behind the scenes and it was heartwarming to see him be so attuned to your needs. 
It was one of the most fun and rewarding shoots you’d ever done in your life. And it would be the most noteworthy. The vibe was nothing less than ethereal and it was full of kisses and laughter. Haechan’s hands and lips on your belly. Holding your hand while you looked into each other’s eyes with the utmost adoration. 
Holding the physical pictures between your own fingers, you sobbed. You were very emotional these days and half expected Haechan to poke fun at you, but he never did. He was the same way, passionate about the undying love he had for you and your unborn children. 
There were a couple of pictures that you didn’t release to the public. Those were just for you and your loved ones. They were more vulnerable, sentimental pictures where you and Haechan couldn’t but stare at each other with a tearful gaze. 
The moment of truth, came the little voice in the back of your head while your finger wavered over the share button. Half of you wanted to hand your phone over to your PR team, but it was important to you that you were the one to disclose. 
You took a shaky breath just before pressing the button and tossed your phone to the side. What was said online wasn’t any of your concern. You didn’t want to know. 
Outlets rushed to cough up the news. Your social media accounts were bursting with likes from people all over the globe. People you were friends with in the industry didn’t hesitate to call and congratulate you on the pleasant surprise. This wasn’t a secret anymore. Now that it was out there, it was everybody’s business. 
When the deed was done, you chose to focus on yourself and the life surrounding you in every capacity rather than what was out of your hands, and made peace with the fact that public opinion was inevitable. What you could control, on the other hand, was how exposed you were to stranger’s thoughts. 
The next few weeks were filled with yoga and child development textbooks. Haechan was taking pictures weekly to document your belly growth. He had already decided that he was going to start a photo album specifically for your children while they grew older. 
You told him that you couldn’t think of a more beautiful idea. 
One Friday came and brought a handful of errands along with itself. You were undoubtedly pregnant now, but not so much that you couldn’t complete tasks by yourself, though Haechan thought that that was debatable. He thought it was ridiculous that anyone expected you to do anything and upheld that you deserved princess treatment. 
But you had a medical opinion that said staying active during pregnancy was beneficial for you and the babies, and Haechan resigned himself to defeat. 
Apparently, the universe wasn’t in your favor, because your car started to have complications. First, the sunroof vehemently refused to open. Then, like a total drama queen, your car decided that she didn’t want to start. 
The most exasperated breath escaped your mouth. You didn’t know the first thing about getting a stubborn vehicle to start and you knew Haechan didn’t either. Besides, not only did you not want to disturb him while he was working, but you were equally stubborn and wanted to prove that you were capable of handling yourself. 
Out of options, you had a really, really bad idea. 
Something unfamiliar stirred in your gut when you pressed your phone to ear, hearing it ring. Anxiety. Or maybe it was something else. Something unidentifiable. 
Jeno sounded a little startled when he spoke, as if he thought you called him by accident. “Hello?”
“Hi, Jeno,” you said less than enthusiastically, rubbing your forearm. “I’ve got a serious favor to ask.”
Though you couldn’t see, Jeno perked up at those words. He was completely desperate. “Yeah, sure. Anything. What’s up?”
Providing a little humor, you replied, “Assuming that you actually know how to work on cars and that wasn’t a lie to impress me, my car kind of won’t start and trying to guilt trip her into functioning doesn’t seem to be effective.”
Jeno snorted. “Did you check the battery?”
You almost started to panic. “No. Was I supposed to?”
“Uh, how about this. If you want, I can come check it out,” Jeno suggested, then immediately regretted the decision. He didn’t want to try and insert himself into your lives too quickly. “But only if you want me to.”
That wasn’t the best idea, considering your boyfriend was intent to hate Jeno’s guts and would not approve of him standing in his garage alone with his baby mother, but your options were already few, so you replied, “That’s fine. You know where I am.”
“I’m on the way,” Jeno said. You could hear him shuffling around in the background. 
“Okay. See you soon.”
You hung up without giving him a chance to respond and released an uncertain breath. Don’t make me regret this. 
Waiting with bated breath and folded arms, your gaze upturned some thirty minutes later when you heard a blue Mercedes Benz turning into your driveway. 
And then Jeno started to walk over to you. 
“Hey, sorry I couldn’t make it sooner. Traffic is crazy today,” Jeno said when he stopped just shy of your toes.
You waved him off. “You’re good. Thirty minutes isn’t bad for California traffic. Thanks for coming over.”
“No problem,” Jeno replied. He didn’t waste much time on small talk, getting straight to what you called him over for. “Let’s see what’s wrong with this bad boy.”
“Her name is Mariposa,” you corrected, but your tone wasn’t malicious. 
Jeno threw his hands up. “Where’s my manners? I should’ve asked. Sorry if I offended you, Mariposa.”
You snickered. “Don’t apologize to her. She’s caused enough trouble today.”
Jeno chuckled. 
While you kept yourself occupied in the corner, not wanting to disturb Jeno as he tried to figure out why your car was acting like a bitch, his brain was totally divided. Half was focused on thoroughly examining your car, while the other was hooked on the fact you remembered something he told you five years ago at dinner. 
Jeno was pondering, hoping. Maybe you just had a good memory, especially when it was convenient, but he hoped that someday, there would be room for him again in your lives. 
Even if he had to spend years proving that he was worthy. 
Jeno separated himself from the lifted hood of your car, dusting his hands off. Your eyes were stuck on him with gut-eating anticipation. “Looks like your alternator is weakening. Smells like burned wires and the serpentine belt smells like smoke. Your engine’s probably leaking.”
“English, please.”
“Your alternator’s not alternating and your shit’s fucked,” Jeno replied, blunt. 
“Oh.” That certainly wasn’t what you wanted to hear.
“Don’t worry. The good news is that it’s nothing that can’t be fixed,” Jeno reassured, pushing the lid back down. “The bad news is that I don’t have the tools to work on it for you.”
You ran a hand through your hair. “Guess I should call a mechanic.”
Jeno bobbed his head. “That would be a good start.”
You were anxious to ask, but did it anyway, “If it’s not too much trouble, would you mind hanging around? One look at my neighborhood and the obvious fact that I don’t know a damn thing about cars, and anyone would try to scam me out of more money than I need to spend.”
“Yeah, of course,” Jeno replied, dipping his hands in his pockets. “But, uh… won’t Haechan mind?”
You snorted. That was an understatement. “Oh, definitely, but his vehicle knowledge starts with one wheel and rides with two. I don’t think he has a say in this.”
Jeno snickered. 
The mechanic came half an hour later and you let Jeno handle the bulk of the talking, only chiming in when the guy asked specific questions like how long you’d been experiencing complications with your car.  
Between the mechanic peeking under the hood and Jeno pointing out to him your car’s tenaciousness, you understood enough of their exchange to know that fixing her would take a solid two hours. Unfortunately, this guy was stretched thin, meaning he would have to tow it back to his shop and have you pick it up tomorrow. 
“This day cannot get any worse,” you grumbled underneath your breath. 
Jeno was frustrated for you and it wasn’t even his car acting a damn fool. After he seemed to hesitate a little, he asked, “Will Haechan be back soon?”
“Nope. He had most of his hours cut, but apparently there was a really huge crisis at his job. It’s going to be another hour or two.”
“Dammit,” Jeno groaned. “Well, if you want me to, I wouldn’t mind driving. You seem really stressed and that’s not healthy for the babies. I mean, obviously you know that, but...”
His nervousness was not lost on you and you resisted a chuckle, interjecting, “Jeno, I would really appreciate the help.”
“Okay, cool,” Jeno said, whipping his keys out of his pockets and tossing them in the air. “Where to?”
Gently helping you get into his car, Jeno made sure that you were safe and comfortable before he took the driver’s seat and braced his hands on the wheel. He was certain that your lover would have his head on a stick for driving you around without his knowledge, but he had a moral obligation not to leave pregnant ladies under tension. 
Besides, he had to prove his loyalty somehow. It didn’t matter how much Jeno insisted that he’d changed. Neither you or Haechan would be convinced until there were no doubts.
Your head was against the door, temporarily appreciating the air conditioning until you just couldn’t take the silence, asking, “So, how’s life? Last time we spoke, you were talking about people being shallow.”
Jeno nodded his head quietly. “I’ve been scared of meeting new people. I have a few friends. Other than that, I have my family and girlfriend.”
Your brows furrowed. That was new. “Girlfriend? Congratulations. I didn’t know.”
“Thank you,” Jeno replied, heat rapidly flushing his cheeks. “She’s the one that encouraged me to apologize. Even if you guys still hated me in the end, she said it would be good to get it off my chest.”
That was interesting. Nobody saw the day coming where Jeno of all people would choose commitment. “Is she in the industry?”
“No, she’s actually a banker,” Jeno replied, chuckling. 
“Really? How did your paths cross?” 
“It’s a long story,” Jeno said, but you could see his eyes sparkling with happiness. He must’ve really liked her. 
Pointing to the road in front of you, staring at the red light glaring back at you both, you shrugged your shoulders. “We’ve got a long day.” 
For the duration of the total ride, in between stops, you chatted with Jeno to pass the time. It wasn’t the easiest thing to relax around each other, each for your own reasons, but you managed. And truth be told, it wasn’t all too bad. 
Your chronic cynicism was the only thing standing in the way of your forgiveness. But Jeno had no apparent reason to drive you around and assist you with errands if it wasn’t simply out of the kindness of his heart. There was nothing that you could give him that he didn’t already have. Except maybe loyal companionship, but he’d already made it clear that he wasn’t lonely. 
Only hours later did Jeno finally pull back into your driveway. Most of your errands just required having to speak with people, but noting that you were probably out of your favorite snacks again, you opted to head to a couple of stores. You also figured you would need some chocolate when it was time to placate Haechan after he realized you’d been with his worst enemy all day. 
When you were home, Jeno refused to let you carry a single item. With your bags in his hand, he opened your front door and dropped your bags off in the kitchen. 
The sound of his front door opening was all too familiar and it was no surprise that Haechan rushed downstairs, having returned only maybe half an hour before you, and chirped, “Baby, you’re home!”
You wrapped your arms around him. Haechan gently hugged you back, careful not to harm you. His warmth was appreciated, but remembering you had a little surprise, you pulled back. “Don’t get mad.”
Haechan gave you a look. “Why would I get mad?”
Surprisingly on cue, Jeno returned from the kitchen, trailing, “I put the food in the...” 
Jeno and Haechan locked glances as it was like a deer crossing paths with a mountain lion. Though you could feel Haechan tense, rather than his hold slackening, it tightened. You could see the anger flickering onto his face within a blink. “What is he doing in our house?”
“I just said don’t get mad,” you groaned, winding a hand through your hair. You cocked your head towards Jeno and said to him, “Jeno, thank you for helping me out today. I owe you one.”
“No, you don’t. I’m endlessly indebted to you,” Jeno quipped, sticking his hands in his pockets. 
“Damn right,” Haechan murmured under his breath. 
Nudging him in the side, you ignored Haechan’s whine of pain. “Well, get home safe. Thank you again.”
“No problem. Have a good night,” Jeno said, seeing himself out. 
“Get home safe?” Haechan repeated when Jeno disappeared. 
You heaved a little breath and asked, “Do you want him to die or something?”
“Well…”
“Stop,” you hissed, breaking out of his arms and moving to a chair. “He really helped me out today. My car broke down and he came to check it out. Then, when the mechanic took my car, he volunteered to help me with my errands.”
Haechan followed behind you, confused. “What? Why is this my first time hearing about this?”
“Because you had a work emergency and it wasn’t worth interrupting you over. I can handle stuff by myself, you know.”
“I know you can, but…,”
“But you’d rather me call you than the guy that fucked you over, yeah, I know,” you huffed. 
“You just finished my sentence.”
Your brows furrowed, wondering how that was in any way significant. “So?”
“So, this is going in the completely wrong direction,” Haechan said, cooling off for your sake. The last thing you needed was stress or a petulant baby daddy. “Let’s calm down and go upstairs.”
You opened your mouth to say something, anything to oppose him, but closed them when you realized you’d fallen short of things to say. “Fine.”
Haechan helped you to the bedroom. The stairs were definitely a problem lately, courtesy of the additional pressure on your uterus. You had to be extra careful coming up them now. 
When you were sitting on your bed, Haechan quietly came beside you. You released a tiny breath, not pleased or disgruntled, but of the will to leave whatever just happened downstairs. It was to be expected. 
After a minute of silence, Haechan finally said, “I’m sorry.”
You shook your head. “Don’t be.”
“No, I should be. You know I never want to make you feel like I think that you can’t do anything yourself. But I need you to know that I’m still there for you to lean on when you need me.”
Thankful that he was lying down, you lowered yourself to rest your head on his chest. Your lips were tugged into a faint smile. “Do you remember our first date?”
Haechan cocked brow. “The real one, or the unofficial first date?”
I still think the unofficial date was the real one, but whatever. Obviously, you would never say that aloud, because then it would spark the debate over what your actual first date was. You ignored his question and continued, “You said that you would never try to control me, because you’re a grown man and I’m a grown woman.”
“Have I?”
You answered bluntly, “No, you haven’t. That was five years ago, you know. I’m pregnant with our baby and even if I hate this next part, I have to depend on you a little more now.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I should make a sign-in sheet for everybody that enters your life,” Haechan said.
“Two things can be true at once.” 
Haechan said nothing, because there was nothing that needed to be said. You were so similar. That was why your relationship worked. Both of you needed time to yourselves, but the fact you were having a baby together forced you to readjust. 
It wasn’t just about what you or Haechan needed anymore. Your two babies would be entering the world any day now and they took precedence in your lives now. There would be difficult choices and there would be compromises. For both of you. 
You found his fingers, blindly lacing your fingers through them. “I don’t forgive him, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Oh.”
You continued, “I think I probably will, eventually, but not yet. Not right now.”
“You said that I would rather you call me than the guy that fucked me over,” Haechan rewinded, squeezing your hand. 
You made a face. “Yeah, I did, but I was irritated and I cut you off. It’s a bad habit that I still haven’t let go of. And it will probably happen again.”
Haechan snorted. “You weren’t wrong, but at the same time, I think I might forgive him too. Not right now, obviously, but eventually. Like you said.”
“Why?” You were confused. You saw how Haechan’s demeanor switched on a dime when he noticed Jeno was in his house. 
“Because he helped you. And anyone that treats you respectfully without an ulterior motive is alright in my book.”
There was movement in your belly and it wasn’t the babies for once. It was the butterflies. 
Haechan draped his other arm over you, smiling gently as his hand touched your belly. “By the way, is this a good time to mention that I have something to tell you?”
Your face tensed with curiosity. “You’ve already put it out there. Might as well cough it up.”
“Okay, well…,” Haechan started. His confidence seemed to be dissipating. “I was thinking that we should go on a babymoon before the kids get here.”
A single brow lifted from your face. “What?”
“Like a honeymoon, but it’s not a honeymoon. It’s a babymoon,” Haechan explained vaguely, sitting up in a way that meant he was serious. 
“Okay, but wouldn’t we go on a babymoon after we had the baby?”
Haechan gave you a look. “Baby, do you really think that we're going to have that kind of time after the babies are born?”
When he put it like that, the concept made a little more sense. “Fair point. Where would we go though?”
Haechan shrugged. “I was thinking Florida, but of course I’m open to suggestions. This is an us thing.”
“Florida’s good with me,” you said without complaint. 
“Then, Florida it is.”
Only two days later, you were on a plane to Florida with ample snacks and water. Haechan didn’t like to waste any time and you didn’t understand the point in waiting either. The clock was ticking and you were already in the third trimester. 
Sure, it was a last-minute vacation, but you checked in with your doctors and after a few evaluations, they had little problem with you traveling through air for a couple of weeks. 
Florida, specifically Miami, was ripe with obnoxiously hot weather in spite of the faded summer. December was similar in California, cheerful and sunny with occasional rain showers. Given that you were raised in the north, it was an exciting change of pace. 
Which was why you were glaring at Haechan in disappointment when you watched him pull three sets of familiar black leather from his suitcase. Your arms were crossed. “Did you really need to pack three different leather jackets?”
“Yes, absolutely,” he said without hesitating. “Come on, babe, you love seeing me in black leather. It’s what made you fall for me.”
You mercilessly quipped, “Actually, I’m pretty sure that’s what made me turn you away.”
“Whatever,” Haechan retorted, pulling another leather jacket from his suitcase. 
All you could do was shake your head. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear the same leather jacket twice.”
Haechan chuckled. “Now that’s an exaggeration. Besides, I need to have plenty to pass down to our kids. They’re gonna have to look extra cool when we go biking together. I can’t be seen with anything less.”
Your heart draped over your racing heart. “Haechan, you cannot take our kids on a motorcycle.”
“Of course not. Not with you knowing about it.”
Your heart was skipping. You were absolutely going to need to have a conversation with his mother. He’s definitely his father’s son. 
“I was kidding. It was a joke,” Haechan said playfully, but the mischievousness in his countenance was obvious. 
You rolled your eyes. “Sure it was.”
Whether it was or wasn’t, Haechan would never tell you. You would just have to cling to hope that he wouldn’t do something like that without your knowledge. Though you trusted him endlessly, the little snicker coming from his parted lips made you a little unsure. 
Then, the vacation started, and you tried to keep your mind from drifting towards the aftermath of pregnancy. Well, as much as you could with the added pressure weighing down your every footstep. Haechan didn’t want to leave you out of his sight for the next two weeks lest something happened to you.
Though you weren’t due for another five weeks, he wasn’t taking any chances. He waited close by when he surprised you with a prenatal massage and always kept your phones charged in case of emergencies. 
He’s going to be a wonderful father, spoke the smitten voice in your head in rhythm with your soaring heartbeat. He was vigilant, careful. You knew with total confidence that your children would be in the greatest of hands. 
Still, in spite of your mutual worries, neither of you would allow them to stand in the way of your fun. He wandered around the beach with you, sticking your toes in hot sand and taking a dip in the water.
Sporting a two piece swimsuit, you felt somewhat self-conscious meandering just shy of the shore in front of so many people. Though you’d convinced yourself that you were doing a good job at hiding the truth, Haechan grabbed your hand and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” It was an obvious lie, because you replied way too quickly. 
Haechan’s steps slowed, cocking his head to look at you. “That’s a lie. You answered too fast. And you didn’t ask me why I asked.”
Your shoulders slumped in defeat. “It’s just… that I feel a little exposed.”
Even though that was vague as hell, Haechan knew exactly what you meant and he wouldn’t stand for it for even just a second. “Babe, you’re beautiful. That’ll never change, even if your body wil,” he said, stopping dead in his tracks. 
Your eyes stung with tears. You’d been outside lately, but never this exposed. Never this far into your pregnancy. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t feel like this.”
Haechan shook his head. “Don’t you dare apologize to me. You can feel however the fuck you want. Just remember that I love you regardless of what you look like. And your body’s only changing to cater to the life we’re about to bring into the world.”
That reminder was all you needed. As long as you had Haechan’s love and enough of your own to supply your children, everything else ceased to matter. 
For half a second, you thought about how tired he must’ve been of having to provide you reassurance, but you shooed the thought away. Everything Haechan did for you was because he cared. There were more than a handful of times where Haechan would randomly confess how gorgeous he thought you were and how much he loved you. 
“Thank you,” you whispered. 
Haechan set his arm at your backside. “You have nothing to thank me for. It’s the truth.”
“I know, but I don’t know how I would do any of this without you. You make everything easier. I feel like I can breathe as long as you’re with me.”
Haechan’s heart was unstill. He couldn’t imagine his life any other way. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he confessed, the sound of his voice featherlight. 
You wanted to test that theory. Mischievous, you squeezed his hand and leaned onto his shoulder, asking, “Would you rather go back to the room?”
What that meant was obvious to Haechan, but it still surprised him. Your sex drive wasn’t as active lately. And not only that, but he was too busy becoming a father to focus on his libido. “Would you be there?”
“I would do a lot more than that,” you retorted. 
Haechan pressed, “But would you want to?”
“Babe, if I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have asked.”
Haechan nodded. It’s not like you were ever afraid to tell him what you wanted. Or what you didn’t want, for that matter. Plus it had been a lifetime since the two of you had sex, and he couldn’t blame you for wanting to get it in before exhaustion became the only thing that drew you to bed. “Say less.”
The walk back to those canopy chairs was eager. Haechan wanted to return to the room as quickly as he could, but patiently remained at your side. 
After collecting your beach towels and rinsing off loose sand (as much as you could in public), you and Haechan walked side-to-side back to the hotel. The sight of your suite coming into view five minutes later made you release a shaky breath of relief.
You and Haechan locked lips almost the second you stood behind the door. Haechan couldn’t wait any longer; he was bursting. Ever since you introduced the idea some twenty minutes ago, all he could think about was putting his hands on you. 
His hands were quick, loosening the string behind your back. Some weeks had passed since he touched you like this. Maybe a month. Now he was remembering what it was like to be caught in your path. 
You separated yourself from him, exhaling, “Bed.”
Haechan grabbed you by the waist and guided you to the bed. When you were there, you climbed your own way up the mattress, with him following closely after. A hand crept into your bare chest and the other behind you, gently craning you onto your back.
Your lips connected again. Fire ascended over you, starting in your heart and stretching elsewhere. His lips were so pretty and kissable. Throwing your mouth against his and sucking on his tongue was something you simply never got bored of. You just couldn’t explain it. 
Haechan pulled back again a couple of moments later, staring at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “Better?” he asked, eyes sparkling with wonder.  
“Mm-hm,” you sighed contentedly, lacing your fingers through his beautiful head of hair.  
Haechan extended an arm down your calf, teasing the skin before cycling your legs into the air and ripping your panties almost right from underneath you. He so badly wanted to touch you everywhere, gnawing at his lip with an insatiable hunger. “I’ll never get tired of this,” Haechan said wantonly. “Tired of you.”
That was without question. You could feel his half-hard cock growing at the edge of your swollen thigh. Arousal shot through him like a firework and it would take little to nothing to get him excited.
Your heart throbbed in sync with your pussy and your leg, still in Haechan’s itching palms, tensed insatiably. There was nothing that turned you on like being wanted. 
Wishing he would take off those stupid swim trunks, a dangerous thought wrecked through your brain and you asked, “Can I do something this time?”
“Not a chance.”
You snapped, “And why not?”
“Because it’s my responsibility to take care of you. And right now, I just wanna make sure you get wet enough to take my dick,” Haechan replied. 
Your next best option was begging. “Please? I’ll get wet just from seeing your pretty face scrunch. Killing two birds with one stone.”
Haechan’s lips parted to turn you down, but he started to mull over your suggestion. Hope nipped at your heart, twinkling in your eyes. Blowjobs shouldn't've hurt the babies. And he knew you wouldn’t be able to lie on your back for very long anyway. “Fine. How do you wanna do this?”
You were beaming. With Haechan’s help, you kneeled on the mattress before crawling over to the edge of the bed. “I read something online. Let’s try you standing here while I lay on my side.”
Per your request, Haechan shifted to the edge of the bed, stepping out of his swim trunks where his dick was desperately poking around for attention. 
You leaned onto your left side, excitement making your heart beat quicker. And your pussy throb, but you were happily focused on someone else right now. “Feel free to use my mouth.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Haechan said, though he would try not to. 
Pressing your lips against his inner thighs, you brushed them over his skin, feeling his legs tense at your touch. So, so sensitive. You could only imagine what would happen when you sucked his cock into your mouth. 
You reached out to grab a fistful of his cock, just after spitting into the palm of your hand, and started to pump him slowly. More often than not, you started off tentatively; you liked to tease him. There was no point in getting him off if you couldn’t see the irritability and desperation on his handsome face. 
Haechan’s breath hitched. His cock was twitching. You seemed to always know what to do with your hands, in spite of the fact that you never let his cum too quickly. But you knew exactly how to wreck him. 
“You don’t have to tease, you know,” he said, voice a little distant like he wasn’t even there.
“I know,” you replied offhandedly. “But I want to.” And I know you pretend not to like it. 
Haechan huffed, but he was only half upset. Part of him liked when you had total, unmitigated control of his pleasure. 
You didn’t release your grip on his stiffened cock when you’d had your fill of teasing him until you sucked the tip into your warm mouth. There was a breath on Haechan’s end, light and shaky, and you couldn’t wait to replicate it. 
Your cheeks were hollowed. You were eager to take most of him down your throat, but were cautious about your pacing, given that it had been a minute since you sucked the soul out of Haechan. Even you were reluctant to give him head during the first trimester because of the morning sickness. 
“Fuck,” Haechan whined shakily. He was remembering what you said about using your mouth even though he hated that the idea appealed to him.
Haechan’s fingers gripped the sheets, opting not to touch you in case he went too far. His face was tense with pleasure and those featherlight moans were like music to your ears. You took more of him, hopeful to throat every inch, and looked into his hazy eyes to watch as it broke him just the way you knew it would. 
The heat was getting to be too much. His thoughts were racing by quicker than he could articulate them, all coming from his mouth being gentle sounds. But his head was saying, She’s going to be the death of me. And I’m okay with that. 
Then, he couldn’t hold back any longer, and started to thrust into your mouth. Though there wasn’t any warning and you only half expected it, you somehow willed yourself to relax. It was so goddamn hot. Pretending that it was your cunt his stiff cock was fucking got you even wetter. 
Even you were moaning and the vibrations shooting through his cock made the room whirl a little. And as if it couldn’t get any better, you pinched the skin of his thigh between your nails, plucking a lethal whine out of him. “That’s making me crazy, baby,” he exhaled, another groan escaping him when he met your stare.
You pressed your tongue flat against his shaft and Haechan swore he saw Michael Jackson looking down at him for a second. Please, was at the back of his throat, but he didn’t want to cum. Not right now. He wanted to cum when he was deep inside of you. 
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Stop,” he panted, blinking as if to clear the haze from his eyes. 
You grinded to a halt when you heard those words and noticed him no longer fucking your mouth, wiping saliva from your lips with the back of your hand. Your cheeks hurt, but it was worth it. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t wanna cum,” Haechan said, gravel. “Not unless I’m inside you. And even then, I might nut too quick.”
You waved off his concern and replied, “It’s okay if you do. I might tap out soon.”
“Duly noted. What’s the plan?”
You beckoned Haechan forward with your hand, watching him creep closer. When he bent down to your level, you whispered something in his ear. 
A few moments later, Haechan was behind you in the bed, your naked back flush against his bare chest. Your breaths were thick and rough while you became entrapped in his body’s warmth. Bending your knees, you counted down the seconds until he would be inside, holding your breath when he entered from behind you. 
And you released it when Haechan grunted at the squeeze of your vice-like cunt upon the first couple of thrusts. You were soaked, just like you said. Getting him off must’ve really done a number.  
His voice was so close to your ear, closer than you thought. “You know the drill, baby. Tell me if you can’t take it.”
You nodded. It was all you could do not to splinter then and there. 
Haechan was tentatively prodding, slow. He was careful not to do you any harm, because if he did, he’d never forgive himself. Luckily enough, what you were feeling was far from painful. With every inch he reluctantly pushed into you, your head was deeper into the clouds. 
There was nothing like being skin to skin with your lover, heart to heart. That was the better half of the appeal when it came to sex nowadays. Pleasure was seeked by the togetherness of intimacy, less than the emphasis of orgasm. 
But he certainly still knew how to get you there. 
“You always feel so good,” you moaned, stretching your hand to reach his forearm. This whole trip had been nothing short of romantic thus far. 
Something about your praise made all of the blood flow to Haechan’s dick, heavy and quick. “You ready for me?”
“Mm-hm. Move, baby,” you whispered, knowing he was testing the waters. “Just relax. You’re not going to break me, I promise.”
Haechan acknowledged your consent with the quietest of sounds, starting to pace himself in and out. His rhythm was steady, but none too rough. It was loving. 
It tickled when his lips grazed the back of your throat in a litter of kisses, breathless giggles escaping you. Wheeling your head, you turned to give him a peck on the mouth, watching the smile coax its way onto Haechan’s face. He has the prettiest smile ever. And I’ll do anything to protect it. 
Anything and everything. It was no secret that Haechan doubted himself sometimes. He rarely spoke to you about it, not wanting to lump his feelings on top of yours because he thought yours were more significant, given that you were the one bringing these children to life. But you wish he knew how incredible he was to you. 
Though you never failed to remind him. Even now, just looking into his eyes with total adoration, Haechan couldn’t understand. He wanted to see himself the way that you saw him. Thanks to your relentlessness, he was getting a little closer. 
Reaching out to touch his cheek, you whispered, “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone as much as I want you.”
“Fuck,” Haechan groaned, like those words alone would be the death of him. Which wasn’t too far from the truth. 
You playfully teased, “You always say the most romantic things.”
Haechan’s face flushed, but those explicatives were at the tip of his tongue. When he was deep inside you like this, his hands cupping your hips, it couldn’t be helped. “That’s funny. I was about to say the same thing,” he lied, losing himself with every sweet thrust.
Your lips parted in a laugh, but it was cut off by a moan. Between the sight and sound, Haechan couldn’t tell which was better. Watching you burst with rapture turned him on. Listening to you burst with rapture turned him on. You turned him on.
All you could feel was ecstasy. It had been said, but the whole world stopped when you were alone with Haechan and it didn’t affect you. When he was fucking all the stress out of your body, in spite of the heat scorching down your skin, you could somehow breathe. 
You faced away from him again, eyes fluttered closed. You were imagining him, even though he was right behind you. There was no space between your bodies and sometimes it was as if you were one person. Like you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. 
Which was ironic. Your first encounter wasn’t so long ago, even if it felt like a lifetime had passed since then. You still vividly recalled wanting nothing to do with him. 
Yet here you were. Carrying his baby, his offspring. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Haechan extended his hand over your lower stomach, reaching out to touch your clit. Your reaction was instant. You gasped, elevating to highs you never knew were in reach. Sex hit different knowing the extremes you were capable of when Haechan was giving himself to you completely. 
“I’m so close, baby,” Haechan warned. He could feel it approaching, but it didn’t matter to him if he didn’t cum either. 
That excited you. Your core throbbed and you purred, “Give it to me, baby boy. Cum inside of me.”
“Don’t say it like that,” Haechan told you, coming up on the edge. He rocked into you harder, wincing his eyes closed. 
You didn’t skip a beat. “Why? Too afraid you’re gonna bust a nut?”
When Haechan said nothing, you grinned to yourself. Then, his other hand came to your boobs, gently touching your nipples. You sighed out, breathless.
Now it was you unraveling. Like clockwork, your back started to arch away from him, your body too stimulated from his hands on your nipple and clit. It just felt so good - the whole room started to spin. 
Moving your hair out of the way, Haechan leaned even closer to you. If possible. You were obsessed with his mouth nipping at the shell of your ear. Voice at the back of your neck. “You’re gonna be a great mother. I can feel that you are,” he said, breath tickling your neck. 
You whimpered, listening to his gentle tone factored with the hot sound of sex thumping throughout the room. 
“Our kids are going to love you from the moment that they lie on your chest and get to see you. They’ll grow up lucky that they get to call you their mother, because even before they were born, you’ve done nothing but your best to care for and nurture them.”
“Haechan…,” you trailed. Your eyes watered. 
Haechan added, “And I’ll be there, proud as ever. Because if there’s any woman that’s fit to raise a baby, it’s you.”
Only seconds ago you didn’t think you would be able to go any longer, sensing yourself on the brink of tapping out, but that spiral ripped it out of you. You shuddered with climax, shifting away from his touch. The sweetest cry escaped you and you found his hand to anchor yourself through your orgasm.
That did it for Haechan in the end. He came just at a glimpse of you finishing on his cock, moaning your name darkly. Stifling his sounds into your shoulder. You milked his load out of him and Haechan swore it was mind-numbing to its core.
A moment passed before you each stilled. Sticky sweat connected your gleaming skin as you released open-mouthed exhales in an attempt to stabilize your breath. For a second, eyes fluttering, your brain was peacefully empty. 
Minutes later, you cocked your head and squeaked, “I’m going to the bathroom. Just rest. You don’t need to follow me.”
Haechan nodded, finally pulling out of you. Something about times like this made his heart swell and his skin swelter. Those moments of silence after. 
Wobbling inside the bathroom attached to your suite, you shut the door behind yourself, in spite of knowing Haechan would probably come in a minute or two. There was a gigantic smile on your face. Finding somebody that cared about you so much was a blessing. 
You meandered over to the toilet so that you could pee. Then, when you finished, you came to the sink to wash your hands of germs. The mirror in front of you was wide and tall. You stared at your reflection, letting out a contented little breath, and set your palms on your tummy. 
As to be expected, Haechan’s voice sounded from behind the door when you didn’t return a couple of moments after he heard you flush. “Baby, are you good? Can I come in?”
You quipped, “Haven’t you come inside of enough things?”
Haechan snickered, twisting the knob. Very funny. He was pleasantly surprised to see you slowly rubbing a hand over your pregnant belly, softly smiling even if you didn’t realize that you were.
Haechan came up to you. Your heart quickened when you sensed his warmth behind you, kissing your shoulder. “Was I too much?”
You shook your head. “It was amazing. I didn’t think I would make it that far.”
“What can I say? I’ve never not blown a woman’s mind,” Haechan joked, lips brushing the back of your neck. A litter of love bruises were there. 
You rolled your eyes. Then, you giggled. 
It was silent for a little while. Both of you were too in awe to speak. With your focus drawn entirely to your children, it was all too easy to become paralyzed with adoration. And they weren’t even born yet.
Haechan’s hand came around your hip, dropping below your ribs. You could feel him hesitating - his body tensed against your skin - but he ultimately said, “Not to be that guy, but I’m kind of glad you’re taking a step back.”
“Really?” You knew that. His happiness was never not clear to you. 
“Yeah, baby, I mean…,” he trailed, thinking. Longing. “Spending more time with you, bonding as a family has really changed me for the better, I think.”
I know what you mean, came your thoughts, but you just hummed. Haechan knew that you were listening. And you knew that he wanted to talk. Your fingers crept up his arm, reassuring. 
Haechan’s mind was racing. Blaring. “Becoming a father hasn’t just changed my life. It’s changed the way I look at life. Life is short, baby. The most beautiful moments of life are short, but they’re meaningful, because I have you. And I’ve got to make that count.”
You shook your head. “We’ve got to make that count.”
Haechan nodded, chuckling. “Yes, you’re exactly right. This is a group effort.”
Your eyes lifted to look at him in the mirror, and you finally realized your lips were curled. “You’re gonna be a good father, you know,” you said levelly. 
Haechan let his hands wander over your belly, running them gently over the flesh. There was a twinkle in his gaze and a beaming smile at his lips. “I can believe that now. And I owe all of the credit to you. I know what I want and who I am. You’ve made me see things from a different point of view.”
“Ironically, I feel the same way,” you said, finding some amusement in this moment of clarity. “It seems like only yesterday I was terrified of having a baby. I didn’t want things to change. The future was so scary.”
“And it’s not anymore?” Haechan asked.
“A little,” you confessed. “But knowing that I have you makes it easier. And knowing that our kids have someone like you, I can relax.”
“You know what they say. The best matches are people who bring out the best in each other.”
You bobbed your head. “Sometimes, I can’t tell if I grew because of you, or if I grew with you. But I think it’s both now. And now we get to do that for a lifetime.”
Yeah, I get that, Haechan thought. You don’t have a single clue, do you? Just how badly I wanna seal the deal, tie the knot. But I’ll take it one step at a time, because I know how you are. You’re slow and steady, baby. And I’m reckless and quick, but we make it work, because you know what you want. And so do I. 
“Yes,” Haechan sighed happily. “Yes, we do.”
A quick tear escaped your eye, but you wiped it away. You were overwhelmed in the best way. 
Haechan kissed your cheek, knowing all of your pleasures and your pains. And he kept them inside his heart in a vault. “I hope they have your eyes.”
Your brows furrowed in wonder. “I think our genes might be evenly distributed.”
“That is not how it works, baby.”
I know, but I want to have hope. It’s wishful thinking,” you replied, sighing. 
Haechan chuckled. “Either way, they’ll be beautiful. And they have a handsome father and breathtaking mother to thank.”
“That’s so vain,” you retorted. But you didn’t disagree. 
Haechan kneeled to the floor, sitting just shy of your stomach. His hands were still lovingly touching you. “Hi, son and daughter. It’s Daddy. I’m sure you’re sick of my voice by now, but that’s too bad. You have to deal with it for eighteen years.”
You shook your head, a stupid smile on your face. Your cheeks hurt. Somehow, you just couldn’t get enough of this boy. 
“Mommy says that Daddy is vain. Can you believe that? Me, of all people, vain. I mean, if you look as good as me one day, you will be, too,” Haechan said exaggeratedly.
“Babe, be careful what you tell our kids,” you chastised. 
“She’s scolding me now. Mommy can get scary when she’s angry, you know. You better not wind up on the receiving end of her wrath.”
You snorted. 
“Anyways, all I really wanted to say is that Mommy and Daddy love you very much. We can’t wait to see you,” Haechan whispered. Your heart burst when he pressed his lips to your belly.
You just knew that he was the one for you. 
The rest of the vacation - or babymoon as your babies’ daddy enthusiastically dubbed it - was a breeze. Before you knew it, you were on a flight back home. Beach air and rushing water was over. And California had never been more foreign. 
Back in your own home, you spent your hours reminiscing in between yoga sessions. You were grateful that Jaehyun suggested the babymoon. It was a much needed period of relaxation to distract you from the looming disaster of childbirth. 
And you were sitting just at its door. Because your pregnancy was considered high-risk and you were not inclined to have a c-section delivery, your doctor recommended labor induction. When you didn’t go into labor after twenty four hours, you started to feel unnerved. 
You had nightmares about what would happen if things went wrong sometimes. Your doctor and childbirth educator made sure that the risks were outlined and clear. One wrong move and you could lose your kids, not to mention that anything could happen to you. 
That was why Doctor Stakes wasn’t willing to risk natural birth. Having twins alone constituted a high-risk pregnancy and they were actively monitoring your babies positions to make sure they weren’t breech.
Haechan was restless, but he tried to keep it together for your sake. He called your name, hand in yours. “Baby, I can feel you tensing. Breathe,” he told you calmly. 
Your voice trembled, “I’m scared.”
“I know. I am, too, but I’m right here with you. We can overcome anything as long as we’re together.”
You bobbed your head and sucked in a breath. Had he not been there with you, it would’ve been a hell of a lot scarier. 
An eternity and a half seemed to pass before you finally went into labor. The contractions started at a distance and you likened them to the preparation trials you endured during the second trimester. Then, they were shorter apart, and the pain intensified so much it felt as if there was no air. 
At the first nick of pain, you immediately pressed for an epidural. Your childbirth already wasn’t natural. And if they thought you would be able to do this without medication, they completely overestimated you.
It took fifteen minutes for a nurse to administer the epidural and another fifteen for the effects to settle in. Haechan never let go of your hand unless he absolutely needed to and he was staring at you with a newfound respect. And his respect for you was already in the heavens. 
“This is crazy,” you wheezed, pulse quickened. 
“It is,” Haechan agreed. “But you can do this. You’re stronger than I ever have been.”
You tugged your lips into a smile. “I’ve been thinking about us. Instead of the risks and stuff.”
That was a pretty good idea. Haechan said, “Talk to me. Tell me about it.”
“We got a new house, like I said. The kids are roughly five years old. They’re helping you make omelets because you know that I like them. There’s a cat. We let them name it. And I’m completely oblivious to what’s going on.”
Haechan snickered. That sounded like his offspring and he hadn’t even met them yet. 
You added, “I thought about something else. There’s a private photoshoot. You’re the photographer, of course. The kids are in your leather jackets, but they’re oversized on them. The whole thing is so cute.”
Haechan kissed your cheek. His heart was thumping in his chest like a hammer and there was a sudden gush of warmth shooting through him. “I bet it is. I can see it playing out in my head right now. We should have a shoot like that one day. With all of us in black leather.”
You chuckled. It was tempting. 
There was so much action in the room. People were moving from place to place to ensure that your babies were delivered safely. Your midwife assured you that the process was moving smoothly. 
With that out in the open, you could breathe a little easier. Though you and Haechan still had no intention of separating from each other. The nurses would have to forcibly pry him away from you.
“It’s time to push,” came your midwife’s level voice. 
The nurses were helping you realize when you needed to push. The movements felt like a distant pressure in your lower back, courtesy of the epidural. None of what was happening to you seemed real and all left to ground you in reality was the knowledge that it was really happening. 
“This is happening,” you said shakily. “Oh my god. This is actually happening.”
Haechan uttered the dreaded words, “Babe, relax.”
“No! I’m never doing this again!” you snapped dramatically, overwhelmed with all the motion. “You need to get a vasectomy!”
Haechan took your outburst in stride. “I’ll do anything you want.”
“Fuck,” you exhaled, an invisible cool shiver running down your spine. 
The first push alone was exhausting. You started to feel lightheaded and as if you would faint from the pressure. There was a lull of relief when the nurse permitted you to take a break to regain strength. 
Tears stung your eyes. “I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can,” Haechan told you in a heartbeat. 
Your confidence in yourself started to dissipate, but with your faithful partner and a dedicated team of medical staff reassuring you through the process, you forced the negativity out of your head and focused on your children. 
“Another push,” your midwife urged. 
You took one big, stabilizing breath before it was ripped out of your lungs again. Your legs had gone completely numb. There was still a slight degree of discomfort in your back that heightened a little with every push, but you winced your eyes closed and rid the thoughts. 
“Breathe with me, baby,” Haechan said during the next break. 
With what little strength you had, you nodded your head and followed his breathing patterns. Your heart seemed more tired than the rest of you as you physically shook. The blood was rushing through you to a painful degree.  
You squeezed Haechan’s hand, which was what you had already been doing. His metacarpals were brave soldiers. “Tell me something.”
In typical Haechan fashion, he was cool as a cucumber. You would never guess that he was terrified for your life, but he pulled himself together. “Anything?”
“Yes. Anything.”
“When I was eleven, I wanted a leather jacket exactly like the black and red one Michael Jackson wore in Thriller,” he confessed. “Then, my mom got me one. And I hated it.”
Your brows furrowed. “Why?” 
“It was black and orange.”
You snickered. Now you were thinking about an angry little Haechan being a sulky and petulant mess. 
When it was time for the final shoves, you had just enough energy to will yourself to keep pushing. Your body was being put through the most gruesome test ever. But you kept the negativity to a minimum and thought only of your family for your own sanity. 
And then it was done. There were loud whimpers. Your baby girl was given to you first, followed by your son. You couldn’t remember a time when you were more occupied with emotion. 
Haechan gawked in awe. For a moment he couldn’t even believe that this wasn’t just a dream and fought off tears the best he could. You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop the tears blurring your vision. Your kids were here at last and they were the light of your life. 
The first hour was spent making plenty of skin-to-skin contact and bonding with your babies. Haechan was smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt. He was already obsessed with the tiny little humans he’d helped make and all of your mutual sacrifice seemed so worth it. 
There were many things that had to happen before you could leave the hospital, but two days later, you were at home resting. Sleep was all you wanted (even though your vocal children had other plans). Which, after the exhausting process you endured only days before, was well-deserved. 
One week passed since you were discarded from the hospital. After a period spent catching up on rest to the best of your ability, you started to accept visitors. Chaewon and Jaemin, the wonderful godparents that they were, assisted with fielding phone calls and text messages from curious loved ones. 
The mood in your home was different the day you and Haechan allowed visitors. Your bedroom was like a club and Haechan was serving as a bouncer, letting them in one-by-one in case you got overwhelmed. 
Chaewon had seen the babies a little earlier than the others. She was your best friend, after all. “They’re so cute,” she’d gushed. 
The babies in question were nested comfortably on your chest. They were also resting. There was a smile tugging at your lips, irresistible. Your heart was at peace. 
Ironically, Mark was the first to show up. Again. “Yo, yo, yo. Where’s my niece and nephew?”
“Shh. They’re sleeping,” Haechan scolded from the door. 
Mark’s eyes were wide, lips parted. “They must be sleepy, huh?”
You quipped, “Yeah. Apparently, wailing all night long is exhausting.”
“I was thinking they’d be tired of Haechan’s shit, but yeah, that checks out too,” Mark retorted. 
Haechan cursed under his breath. Then, he said aloud, “If I wasn’t a better man, I would pummel you to the ground.”
“A better man, my ass,” Mark taunted. His words were promptly followed by a gasp and he put his hands over his mouth. “I meant… my butt.”
You giggled. 
Mark switched on a dime. Concern washed over his face, tenderness in his eyes. “Dude, are you okay, though? Like, pregnancy is huge. It had to be eventful.”
“It was a lot of things,” you murmured, briefly bringing yourself back to that moment. You weren’t going to miss it too much, but it was beautiful. “I went through so many emotions. But I’m happy we’re all here.”
Mark bobbed his head. “Yeah, I am, too.”
When he exited the room, Winter promptly entered. And she gasped at the first sight of your babies, eyes dampening. “Oh my god!”
Her reaction made you snicker. “Yes, I know. They’re adorable.”
“Understatement of the year,” she drawled. “These are by far the cutest kids I’ve ever seen in my life.”
You grinned. “Thanks.”
Jaemin poked around the corner. Much like Chaewon, he had already seen your babies and spoken to them, cooing and babbling. “Somebody’s sleepy,” he retorted. 
You bobbed your head. “They should be.”
Jaemin didn’t miss a beat, “Guess they got sick of putting up with this guy.”
Haechan’s eyes narrowed and he hissed, “You’re late. Mark already made that joke.”
Winter giggled. You stifled one on your boyfriend’s behalf. 
There was a gap in between the next visits large enough for you to take a nap and you didn’t rouse until shortly before your fifth visitor. 
f
As if it wasn’t obvious, you ignored Jeno’s nervousness. He looked a little surprised, lips parted when he caught a glimpse of your kids from the door. After he made small talk with Haechan, he entered and said, “Wow.”
Your babies were awake now. And surprisingly calm. For now. “I know.”
Jeno cleared his throat. “They’re beautiful. Congratulations, both of you.”
“Thank you,” you whispered, staring adoringly at your kids. 
Jeno searched tirelessly for things to say. He didn’t want the wrong words to come out of his mouth, but you personally inviting him over shocked him. He asked, “How was labor?”
“Laborious,” you replied dryly. 
Jeno snorted. 
Haechan wasn’t shy to brag, “She was a champ. I’ve never been more proud.”
Your face was warm. And so was your heart. 
“I’m sure she was,” Jeno said, gleaming. 
You tilted your head. “Would you like to hold one of them?”
Jeno gawked. “Can I?”
You nodded. 
“Okay. Yeah, sure,” Jeno stammered out. 
Glancing down at your son, you cooed, “You wanna go to Uncle Jeno? Yeah?”
Shock flickered over Jeno’s face, as if he couldn’t believe the words leaving your mouth. With maternal cautiousness, you handed him your closest child, which happened to be your son. Jeno watched for his head without having to be instructed, holding your baby as if he would shatter. 
These babies were a part of you and Haechan, and Jeno swore that if there was anything you ever needed him to do for them, he wouldn’t hesitate to come running. 
“Hi,” Jeno greeted, smiling at your son. “You’re really lucky, you know. You have the best mom and dad on the whole planet.”
You smiled softly.
“Am I…,” Ryujin trailed, strolling down the hallway. Imagine her shock when she noticed Jeno standing there. “Late?”
Jeno cleared his throat. “Ryujin.”
Ryujin’s arms folded. “Jeno.”
“You look good,” Jeno said, mouth suddenly dry. 
Ryujin was eyeing him, skeptical, as if she still didn’t trust him. But you could see the sadness in her stare. “You, too,” she replied quietly. 
Jeno gently placed your son back in your arms, making sure he was secure before he released his grip. 
“We forgive him, Ryujin,” Haechan said, even if it took months. 
Ryujin’s eyes flickered. Jeno stepped in front of her and glanced at the floor. If there was something he wanted to tell her, he lacked the courage. 
“Look me in the eyes.”
Jeno did it. He would do anything to make his mistakes up to the people he owed to. 
Ryujin wrapped her arms around him. Jeno stiffened for a second, not expecting that of all reactions, but gently hugged her back. While they were reconciling, you and Haechan glanced at each other. There was a telepathic exchange of thought between the two of you. 
Then, Ryujin pulled back, and whined, “Ugh, I just realized something. We’re uneven again.”
Haechan snorted in disbelief. Of course that was what she was worried about. 
“Not if you include the kids plus Haechan and I’s future cat,” you quipped smartly. 
Ryujin beamed in amusement. “I think I can work with that.”
Glancing down at your two lovely kids, the cutest of hats on their tiny little heads, you grinned and said, “Yeah, so do I.”
550 notes · View notes
love-belle · 9 months
Text
always, evermore, even after and still !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which they get married and it's the happiest day for everyone.
or
for when you finally find your happily ever after. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings - language
author's note - hope u like this!!! i love you so much, thank you for reading <3
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 2,826,998 others
vogue charles leclerc and y/n y/l/n tie the knot in a grand yet intimate ceremony held at their villa in monte carlo.
the bride wore a valentino couture gown complete with a sprawling train and platform heels while the groom sported a classic black tuxedo. y/n’s childhood best friend, lily muni he, served as the maid of honour, whereas her close friends, carmen mundt, kika gomes and heidi berger were bridesmaids. on the groom's side, lorenzo leclerc, his brother was the best man along while his younger brother, arthur and his friend circle, which included lando norris, pierre gasly, carlos sainz and alex albon were the groomsmen. the guest list included many notable presences such as sebastian vettel, toto wolff, taylor swift, zendaya, timothée chalamet, harry styles and many more.
the couple’s first dance was to the song "love letter from the sea to the shore" performed by delaney bailey followed by "it's nice to have a friend" by taylor swift and "sweet creature" by harry styles.
tap the link in our bio to get a look inside their wedding held at their stunning villa in monaco.
tagged yourusername charles_leclerc
comments are disabled for this post
≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱
yourusername added to their instagram stories
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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 796,528 others
landonorris my two best friends got married and i'm about to make it everybody's problem. congratulations, you horny motherfuckers. don't remember much of last night but as i'm sitting in a cafe in berlin, i know it ruled. here's to a lifetime of happiness, love and blessings and may this marriage not end in a divorce (y/n, lily still has that taxi driver on speed dial, say the word and we'll help you run away)
tagged yourusername charles_leclerc
8,638 comments
username stfu im gonna cry
username i feel like a proud parent omg
username we've come so far 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username not lando violating charles on his own wedding post 💀💀💀
username they're so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😭😭😭😭😭😭
username i love them so much my lord
lilymhe you can still escape just sayin yourusername
-> yourusername i'll keep that in mind, thank you 💋
-> charles_leclerc is it too late to get a divorce
-> yourusername shut up you literally (and legally) signed up for this
username are we gonna ignore that fact that the wedding was in monte carlo and lando's in berlin
-> username how the FUCK did that happen
-> username i just know that the party was WILD
username "may this marriage not end in a divorce" PLS 💀💀💀
username the photos ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username im living for the wedding content we're getting from like half the grid
maxverstappen1 berlin is nice
-> landonorris i know right?
-> username NOT MAX BEING IN BERLIN TOO WTF HAPPENED LAST NIGHT
username the event of the century 🔥🔥🔥
username THEY LOOK SO AMAZING WHATCTHRBUCJ
username in love with these
username god i need a life like this ://
charles_leclerc at least i had a gf and now i have a wife (thanks for the photos but i'm not paying you)
-> landonorris that's a fucked up thing to say to me (i literally hate you so much)
username fuck all the love stories except theirs
username my heart ://
username they SCREAM old money
-> username OMG THAT'S SO REAL
yourusername thank you for these pictures. we love you. take the train back to monte carlo rn or i am giving your gift to george. and thanks for the driver information, will keep that in mind definitely.
-> landonorris anytime. i love you both i guess. DON'T YOU DARE and of course, happy to help.
-> charles_leclerc DELETE THAT NUMBER RIGHT NOW
username charles has been married for one (singular) day and he's already fighting for his life 💀💀💀💀💀
username i love this friend group so much ❤️
username THEY BOTH ATE OMG
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by yourusername, landonorris, carmenmmundt and 892,728 others
lilymhe in my head, we're still those teen girls who planned out their wedding days with so much enthusiasm and with so much detail that it would've put these planners and binders to shame. it's kinda hard to believe that my best friend is now married but honestly, y/n/n, i couldn't be more happy for you. you're my best friend and i love you so much. thank you for being just a call away, always. here's to charles (barf) and y/n (❤️)
tagged yourusername charles_leclerc
7,926 comments
username SHUT UP IM CRYING
username platonic soulmates ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username AHHHSHDHDJDHBXSJ
username she's so pretty what the fuck
username Y/N ATE
carmenmmundt the prettiest bride 💕
*liked by lilymhe*
username two pretty best friends 🔥🔥🔥
username y/n looks so pretty what thebfuck omg im gonna scream
username my favs ://
username nah cus lily and y/n literally have my heart like they're my fav pair of best friends
charles_leclerc i remember when you threatened me
-> lilymhe good. remember it for the rest of your life.
-> charles_leclerc y/n she's doing that thing again yourusername
-> yourusername lily
-> lilymhe sorry
-> username NAH NOT CHARLES SNITCHING ON LILY
username she slayed so hard
username the barf and the ❤️ spoke VOLUMES
username im gonna cry they're so 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username i wish i had a best friend like lily ://
alex_albon i never get captions like this
-> lilymhe this isn't about you
-> yourusername yeah alex this isn't about you
username y/n's childhood best friend being her maid of honour 😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username in love with these two
username AHHHSHDHDJDHBXSJ
yourusername i love you SO fucking much
-> lilymhe i love you so much more
yourusername i'll love you always thank you for everything ❤️‍🩹
-> lilymhe you're my best friend, always here for you and your loser ass boyfriend
-> charles_leclerc I'M HER HUSBAND
-> lilymhe okay and??? she can get another one
-> username PLEASE OH MY GOD
username i adore their friendship tf
username don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc
danielricciardo i had one (1) job and as you can see, i took it very seriously. mr and mrs. leclerc-y/l/n, everybody 💒🍧💐
tagged yourusername charles_leclerc
7,682 comments
username LECLERC-Y/L/NS
username THEY'RE SO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username i love them sm what the fuck
username my parents ❤️🫶🏼
username LOVING THE WEDDING CONTENT WE'RE BRING FED RN
username she looks so pretty omg ☹️☹️☹️
maxverstappen1 why are you acting like your ass isn't in berlin with us?
-> danielricciardo THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SECRET YOU SNITCH
username WHAT THEBFUCJ HAPPENED LAST NIGJT 💀💀💀💀💀 why are they in berlin
-> username oh the night was wildin 🔥🔥🔥
username daniel.jpg but on main
username love them sm
username SO HAPPY FOR THEM AHSHDHSJDJBS
username living for this content
landonorris berlin kinda cool
*liked by danielricciardo*
username WHY are they in berlin
-> username no it's HOW are they in berlin
username no bc i feel like such a proud mom like i watched go from "hiii/hiiiiiii" to "hehehehe i do/shut up charles, i do"
-> username that's what i call GROWTH
username her dresses ate omg
username i know daniel's not getting paid for shit
username im so ://
charles_leclerc lovely photos mate
-> danielricciardo so will you pay me?
-> charles_leclerc no
username AHHHSHDHDHDHXHXJDJDF
username gonna sob some more
username honestly crying tears rn
yourusername we love you daniel 🫶🏼 (get your ass back to monaco i am NOT kidding)
-> danielricciardo love you guys (omg we're on our way stop you scare me sometimes)
username IM NOT NORMAL ABT THIS
username fav couple
username thank u to daniel for these
-> username doing god's word fr
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, charles_leclerc and 2,826,418 others
yourusername words cannot express how much i love you. every single time i think that this is it, i cannot possibly love you more than i do, i'm surprised by myself because i do. i really do. i fall in love with you more and more every single day and i'm gonna spend the rest of my life showing you that. i loved you when you first told me that you really liked my smile and i loved you when you told me you hoped i lived nearer to you and then asked me to move in. i loved you when you took the time to get to know me and i loved you when you said that i was it for you and i will love you when our hair is turning gray and we're gonna look back and smile and fall in love even more. they're gonna have to kick us out of those nursing homes i swear. i truly cannot wait to look back on our life together, cardboard boxes full of our love, but until then, let's live it. here's to my forever love, my everything, my world. i love you ❤️
tagged charles_leclerc
17,527 comments
username GOODNIGHT
username WHAT THR FUCK
username im gonna sob this is so
username they're married 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username people say soulmates we say y/n and charles
username sliding down the door fr this is INSANE
charlotte2304 all my love to you both 💓
*liked by yourusername*
username HE'S SO HUSBAND MATERIAL LIKE
username they're MY parents
username the caption took my heart out and squeezed it
username hahahahaha!!!!! i am NOT okay!!!!!!! what the fuck is up with that caption
sebastianvettel 💐💕
*liked by yourusername*
username he's so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username "i truly cannot wait to look back on our life together, cardboard boxes full of our love, but until then, let's live it" WHEN WILL IT BE ME
username "they're gonna have to kick us out of those nursing homes" me and who lol (i am screaming crying shaking)
username no bc i too deserve someone like this ://
username it's giving timeless by taylor swift
*liked by yourusername*
username they're so taylor swift coded
username GOD ME WHEN
username gonna take a toaster bath brb 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
username don't test me istg
carla.brocker my heart 😭🩷
*liked by yourusername*
arthur_leclerc sister-in-law 💒🩷
*liked by yourusername*
username IM GONNA SCREAM WHAT THE FUXK
username MY parents 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username he's so husband coded ❤️‍🩹
username microwaving a spoon brb
charles_leclerc i love you so much it's unbelievable just how much
-> yourusername i adore you and every part of you
charles_leclerc my forever love ❤️ cannot wait to grow old with you
-> yourusername forever has never sounded so good ❤️
username gonna be thinking abt this for the rest of my life just so u know
username they're setting the standards so high i can't do it anymore what the fuck
username im so 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by yourusername, pierregasly, landonorris and 2,826,318 others
charles_leclerc i honestly don't know what to say. you're my biggest dream, my wife and now that i'm saying it, it sounds so surreal. i have waiting been an entire lifetime to say these words and the fact that it's you in this lifetime (and all the others), is just amazing. i wish i had known you sooner, so that i wouldn't have to spend all those years looking for love in places where it couldn't possibly be. my love for you reached my past and before you came into my life, i missed you so bad. i hope that one day, when we're old and aged and have seen a thousand sunsets, you ask me if i love you and my answer will forevermore will be always, evermore, even after and still.
tagged yourusername
16,628 comments
username I CANNOT DO THIS RN
username everyone stfu im gonna cry
username english lang is so weird bc u say true love and it translates to y/n and charles
username nah the bar is too high atp im giving up
username SHE'S SO PRETTY MA GAWD
username the fact that they're now the leclerc-y/l/ns 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
lewishamilton so happy for you both 💐💒
*liked by charles_leclerc*
username "my love for you reached my past and before you came into my life, i missed you so bad" why am i crying.
username they're the blueprint for all love stories from now on btw
username I LOBE THEM SO MUVH WHAT GHE FUCK THEY'RE MU PARENTS 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 😭 😭 ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
usernames no bc the way all the photos are of random moments and this leads me to believe that charles just whips out his camera whenever y/n is just There and now im crying again
-> username he's just like us fr
-> username i too would play paparazzi for y/n is given the chance he's not the only one ://
carla.brocker coolest sister in law (best friend) 🫶🏼
-> yourusername carla i love you 😭
username still in disbelief they r married tbh
username i feel like we watched them grow up im so emotional 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
username she's so pretty i could sob
username why did u think that it was okay for u to post this.
username i am not okay
lorenzotl 🤍💐
*liked by charles_leclerc*
username SHE'S SO PRETTY
username charles won at life fr
*liked by charles_leclerc*
username caption called me single and lonely in 26836282727 languages 💔💔💔💔💔
username bro woke up and chose to destroy shakespeare with that caption 💀💀💀
landonorris loved the wedding 👍 i woke up in berlin
-> charles_leclerc the wedding was in monaco???
-> maxverstappen1 i know
-> danielricciardo we obviously had some ideas and now i have an ugly tattoo and there's a ring pop on my finger
-> landonorris max has one too
-> charles_leclerc YOU MARRIED MAX
-> danielricciardo NO
-> maxverstappen1 NO
-> yourusername this is hilarious
username i need to see more pictures from the wedding I NEED TO
username i love my wife (i am delusional)
yourusername i have already loved you for a thousand years ❤️
-> charles_leclerc here's to a thousand more ❤️
yourusername i love you so much like you're my person and i just love you so fucking much :/
-> charles_leclerc i love you so much more mon chéri
username they're so 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username IM SO AHJHSJSHDHDJSKDJD
username im gonna cry brb
2K notes · View notes
pucksandpower · 1 year
Text
Lewis Hamilton x rocket scientist!Reader - Social Media AU
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yourusername
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Liked by nasa_langley, mercedesamgf1, and 8,132 others
yourusername for nearly five years, i have had the opportunity to help mankind explore the cosmos and to combine the science of engineering with the mysteries of space. but now it is time for me to embark on my next adventure. i want to thank NASA and all of the amazing friends i made through work for the once-in-a-lifetime experience. keep an eye out for what’s next, the race is on
View all 79 comments
nasa_langley it won’t be the same without you! all the best in your next chapter
yourbestfriend pretty offended that i’m learning about this through an instagram post
yourusername i’ve been sworn to secrecy until the official announcement but i promise that all will be revealed soon 🤐
mercedesamgf1
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Liked by yourusername, lewishamilton, and 637,945 others
mercedesamgf1 Welcome to our new Technical Director!
We are delighted to announce that Y/N Y/L/N is coming onboard to take the lead on designing next season’s Mercedes-AMG F1 W15 E Performance. She joins the team from NASA, where she was the Director of Aerodynamics Research.
View all 2,813 comments
silverarrowfan i don’t know how i feel about choosing someone with no experience working in f1 not to mention no motorsport experience whatsoever
mercdefender she literally designed rockets
silverarrowfan rockets aren’t formula 1 cars
mercdefender rockets are rockets and she’s one of the most renowned aerodynamicists in the world. the team desperately needed a designing shake up so that’s exactly what they’re getting
skysportsf1
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Liked by womenofmotorsport, mercfansglobal, and 137,258 others
skysportsf1 Toto Wolff explains why he ventured outside the bounds of motorsport to find Mercedes’ new Technical Director
View all 946 comments
yourusername adding “launcher of humans into space” to my resume as we speak
womenofmotorsport it’s only been five minutes since the announcement and i already love her
racinggrace i don’t get why some fans are upset. it’s not like toto picked a random stranger off the street, he poached one of NASA’s top engineers
formulazero exactly! she is the best of the best in her field and i’m confident that all the knowledge she applied to building rockets can be adapted to building a dominant f1 car
kymillman
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Liked by paddockgirlie, formulafashion, and 81,429 others
kymillman GAME FACE ON
Mercedes’ newly appointed Technical Director Y/N Y/L/N looks stylish but stern as she joins the team for the first time at the Monaco Grand Prix. The aerodynamics engineer is on scene to meet with Mercedes drivers and staff and gather what data she can about the W14 to improve upon when designing the next generation. One thing is for certain, all eyes will be on the W15 to start the 2024 season.
View all 157 comments
yourusername my RBF strikes again. i promise i don’t bite (most of the time)
formulafashion it’s honestly a serve. you have the whole untouchable woman in stem look perfected
paddockgirlie i have a feeling she’s going to be a fan favorite
formulafashion her and lewis alone will give mercedes more style than the rest of the teams combined
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f1
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Liked by lh44updates, mercedesamgf1, and 275,836 others
f1 What a difference a year can make!
Lewis Hamilton’s comments about his car before the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix in 2023 versus 2024 are night and day. With a win in Bahrain to start the season already under his belt and a car that has been able to outmatch the competition, will the stars continue to align for the seven-time World Champion?
View all 877 comments
kartwheels it’s a miracle! what changed from last season?
mercedesf1updates y/n y/l/n
lightsoutmerc a new technical director behind the car design
yourusername mercedes hospitality added vegan brownies so now lewis is less grumpy. and yeah, i guess the car might have helped a little too
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mercedesamgf1
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Liked by yourusername, lewishamilton, and 692,351 others
mercedesamgf1 Dream team 👊
View all 2,748 comments
mercedes4life george reading this like 👁️👄👁️
hamilfan lewis is straight up hogging her which is understandable since she gave him a proper car again after two seasons we would all rather forget
yourusername i wouldn’t say “hogging”
georgerussell63 i would. i’m 99% sure lewis trained roscoe to growl at me any time i get close to you
yourusername we invited you to join us for dinner
georgerussell63 and then forgot i existed so you drove away without me while i was in the restroom
yourusername we’re really sorry about that
georgerussell63 i had to call toto to pick me up because there were no cabs and the restaurant was an hour away from the hotel!
mercedesamgf1 please continue. it’s been a quiet day at work and admin is bored 🍿
greeneggsandhamilton we are not worthy 🛐
mercedesamgf1
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Liked by lewishamilton, yourusername, and 701,849 others
mercedesamgf1 The hot lap everyone has been waiting for
View all 3,002 comments
lewishamilton there’s a reason y/n is the engineer and i’m the driver
yourusername never again
lewishamilton i thought it was fun
yourusername of course you did. i’m just happy i managed a lap without crashing
sirlewis44 y/n looks terrified
yourusername i learned that i prefer to optimize g-force, not experience it
f1wagupdates
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Liked by gridgossip, lewislover, and 54,238 others
f1wagupdates Y/N Y/L/N spent nearly the entire summer shutdown with Lewis Hamilton. The two attended numerous fashion shows and even enjoyed a week cruising around the French Riviera on a yacht together with a group of friends. They certainly seem a lot closer than coworkers. Are they just friends or something more?
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lewislover mercedes 🤝 iconic motorsport couples
gridgossip first toto and susie, now lewis and y/n? they’re simply too powerful
awaywego do you see that last photo? no way they’re not together when they’re practically drowning in each other’s eyes
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yourusername
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Liked by lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1, and 265,913 others
yourusername i could go on and on for days about lewis hamilton, the driver. how talented and determined and passionate he is. but anyone who has watched him race already knows that. so instead i want to talk about lewis hamilton, the man. lew, you are the strongest and most compassionate person i know and i know that you want to be remembered for that just as much as you want to be remembered for your accolades on the track. my heart is so full for you and the memories that we built together around the world. i love you more than i can put into words
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lewishamilton you push me to be a better driver and, more importantly, a better person. every struggle and obstacle was worth it because they led us to each other
timetogoporpoising i’m so happy for you guys
timetogoporpoising on a totally unrelated note, i’m going to go cry and eat an entire tub of ice cream
mercedesamgf1 admin can relate. seeing them completely in love tends to have that effect on anyone around them
lewishamilton
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Liked by yourusername, mercedesamgf1, and 1,947,628 others
lewishamilton another world drivers’ championship on my shelf and another world constructors’ championship for the team, and it’s all thanks to this incredible woman right here. she has a tendency to praise everyone except herself but despite how humble she is, this was only possible because of her. there were times just last season when i feared this day would never come but one announcement about her hire during a team meeting changed that all and y/n stormed into our lives like an avenging angel ready to drag us back to glory. i love you so much, baby. let’s run it back next season
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yourusername you + me + the W16 = #9 🏆
georgerussell63 + george
yourusername our favorite third wheel
mercedesamgf1 still hungry for more 🙌
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cartierre · 10 months
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28 REASONS | mv1
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SOCIAL MEDIA!AU max verstappen x fem!kpop idol!reader (fc: kang seulgi)
side note: seulgi is so mother. side note pt2: this is so all over the place i'm sorry.
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♡ liked by rkive, real_pcy, tiny.pretty.j and 3,383,498 others
yourusername coachella, are you ready for this?
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user1 OMG I'M GONNA SEE MY MOTHER
user2 everyone is talking about frank, WHY IS NO ONE SCREAMING ABOUT Y/N ⤷ user3 I AM SCREAMING, CRYING, THROWING UP
user4 kpop is taking over the world, we love to see it!
user5 only three more months and we'll see the performance of a lifetime ⤷ user6 i'm gonna do whatever it takes to see her perform 28 reasons live ⤷ user7 i'm calling the devil to make a deal rn
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♡ liked by coachella, maxverstappen1, oohsehun and 4,984,736 others
yourusername coachella weekend 1 was an absolute blast!
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user8 MAX?? ⤷ user9 ariana what are you doing here?
user10 changed the trajectory of my life
user11 THIS IS HOW A HEADLINER IS SUPPOSED TO PERFORM ⤷ user12 kpop idols never disappoint when performing ⤷ user13 my girl said THE MIC IS ON
user14 does that mean lewis and max saw my girlfriend life at coachella?
user15 max is really sliding into my mother's dms after he broke up with kelly ⤷ user16 he's about to fight for his life with y/n's fans
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♡ liked by lewishamilton, maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 3,647,938 others
yourusername thank you redbullracing for this incredible weekend here in miami! congratulations maxverstappen1 and schecoperez for the 1-2 finish!!
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user17 NOT MAX BEING SO ENCHANTED BY Y/N THAT HE BEGGED RED BULL TO INVITE HER TO THE GP ⤷ user18 nah they probably used her for fame i mean they always invite big celebrities but y/n's on another level of famous
user19 max really said "i've watched y/n perform live so now i need to her to see me"
user20 if max can bag a girl like y/n i'm gonna become a playboy THIS MAN HAS ZERO RIZZ?? ⤷ user21 yeah but it's max, he doesn't need rizz to get the girls coming
redbullracing a pleasure to have had you here! comment liked by yourusername
maxverstappen1 see you in monaco? ⤷ yourusername i think i can manage that ;) ⤷ user22 hUH?
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♡ liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, rkive and 3,627,123 others
yourusername monaco pre-race
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user23 okay so we had lewis, max and now charles liking/following her... smth is brewing in the f1 gossip club
user24 are the f1 drivers turning into kpop stans? ⤷ user25 y/n is powerful like that
user26 28 reasons to love y/n: nr. 1: she likes f1
maxverstappen1 already a strong start to the weekend ⤷ user27 ARE YOU AND Y/N DATING BE HONEST
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♡ liked by lilymhe, maxverstappen1, tiny.pretty.j and 4,029,645 others
yourusername monaco post-race
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user28 girl doesn't even hide it anymore
user29 my new favourite wag &lt;3 ⤷ user30 they haven't even confirmed anything yet? ⤷ user31 they don't need to look at all the evidence laid out just like that
charles_leclerc next time you and max can come have dinner with me? ⤷ yourusername do you have a private chef because i've heard your cooking skills aren't the best ⤷ charles_leclerc wHAT i'm an excellent cook thank you very much ⤷ maxverstappen1 let's just eat out? ⤷ user32 i am deceased
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beomgyucoded · 6 months
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Lyrically Bound
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Pairing: Rockstar!Beomgyu x Lyricist!Reader
Word Count: 17.3k
Genre: sort of strangers to lovers, soulmate au
Warnings: reality Beomgyu, cursing, underaged drinking, mentions and descriptions of kissing, allusions to sex (no actual smut), use of pet names (Beomgyu calls reader princess), reader is a little judgmental of Beomgyu at first
Summary: in this world, soulmates are a rarity. There’s only a handful of people that have a connection so strong, that they share a fate. Your parents were one of the few, and you could only hope you were too. By high school you gave up most of your hope, however the second you get to Seoul for college you’re met with an ache in your chest and movie like dreams that leave you feeling warm.
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Soulmates were so rare in this world that most people didn’t believe they existed. No one tried to discover if they shared a connection meant to last a lifetime because of the infinitesimal chance. Instead, they would listen to stories that felt more like fairy tales- so out of reach- and then express their desire for such a tie to another soul. You were no stranger to these stories. You were often the storyteller, as your parents were one of the few.
Your parents met in high school. Your dad from Seoul and your mom from Jeju. Your mom had begged to go to a performing arts high school in Seoul, which happened to be the one your dad went to. Your mom said she’d never forget how she felt on her first day. There was this indescribable feeling the second she stepped foot into the school. She blamed it on first-day nervousness, but when the feeling continued to grow and a small mark in the shape of a guitar appeared right under her collarbone, she almost passed out. It was a big school, and it wasn't until the school’s winter festival that they encountered each other. When their eyes met, everything fell into place. While your mom knew that it was because they were soulmates, your dad believed it was love at first sight. Your mom, being as bold as she was, walked right up to him and asked “Do you believe in soulmates?” and showed him her guitar mark. 
            It is also believed that the child of soul mates is more likely to have a soulmate of their own. At least you hoped. Despite how long it’s been, you’ve watched as your parents fall more in love with each other every day. And you only wish to have that kind of connection with another person, too. Since soul links weren’t as obvious and were different for everyone, it was even more difficult to determine whether you had a soulmate or not. Throughout school, whenever you felt the tiniest bit for someone, you’d hold on to it thinking it could be something. It never was. 
“It’ll feel stronger than that.” Your mom always told you. 
She described it as “all your feelings hitting you at once,” and “there will be this feeling of familiarity when you’re near each other.” 
Hearing that made your longing for a soulmate even stronger. When you got to high school, you were sure signs of a soul link would show up like how it did for your parents. But when that didn’t happen, you decided to let go of the idea altogether.
            Aside from being known as the “child of soulmates”, you were also a musical genius (as your dad liked to put it). You possessed a lot of natural talent, especially in songwriting, since you were a child. This wasn’t surprising, considering both your parents were musicians in school. 
“You have such a way with words,” something you’ve been told since grade school.
  And because of this, music and writing revolve around you like the moon revolves around the earth. You had quite the voice too, your mom giving you voice lessons since you were three. Something strange, however, was the moment you picked up a guitar in your middle school band class, you could play it almost perfectly. The strange part being that you were never taught how to play the guitar before. The only explanation you could think of at the time was that your dad played guitar, and the soulmate bond between your parents was stronger than you believed. So strong that even their child could inherit what brought them together. You didn’t think too much of it, instead using the skill to help in your songwriting. 
That is how you ended up where you are currently, a resident singer/songwriter who everyone thinks is special, mostly because of her parents being soulmates. It seemed college admission officers thought so too, because at the moment you were packing up your things to go off to college. You were admitted to a college with one of the best music departments in the world, and on a full scholarship. Your parents encouraged you tremendously when making the decision. They said your talent shouldn’t go to waste and that they never had the courage to pursue music like you do. 
“Are you completely sure I should go to Seoul?” 
You asked one more time, watching as your parents happily helped you pack your things. 
“Why wouldn’t we be sure, dear? Music is what you want to do, right? I hope it doesn’t seem like we’re forcing you or that we just want you out of the house.” Your mom said and hurriedly added that last part. 
You giggled softly at her rushed sentences and continued to watch them. 
“I know you aren't, and I promise this is what I want to do. I’m just making sure you aren’t having second thoughts about sending your only child off.” You joked lightly, reassuring her.
 Truthfully, you were the one having second thoughts. You've always been rather independent, but both your parents always gave you unconditional support in any of your endeavors. You never felt alone or had to actually be all alone. Until now. Now, you were moving to the city all by yourself and would be in a new environment where no one knew you or of you. That was terrifying. 
“Maybe you’ll meet your soulmate in college.” Your dad’s voice brings you out of your thoughts before they can turn dark. 
“I don’t have a soulmate, Dad.” You mumbled softly. 
“You don’t know that for sure. Some people go their whole life without meeting theirs because they refuse to look.” 
“They refuse because there’s a less than 3 percent chance that they would even have one. And I did look.” 
Your dad only shook his head and chuckled at you. 
“I didn’t think you were one to lose hope. What happened to the little princess who only wanted to meet her prince and get married?” 
“She faced reality,” you said bluntly. 
“I’m sorry, that didn’t come out the way I wanted. But seriously, I’m not getting married.”
“You say that now, but when you meet him, I'm sure the first thing you’ll want to do is put a ring on it.”
Shaking your head amused, you returned to your thoughts. To be honest, you never gave up hope. To most people, you had everything a child could want, yet you always felt like something was missing. From your life and you as a person. Your parents met in high school, and it was silly of you to believe that you would meet your soulmate in high school, too. No story is the same. You, of all people, should know that. 
“You’re right, I’m not one to give up. I haven’t. Even if I don’t have a soulmate, maybe I’ll meet someone there anyway.” You said, trying your hardest to be optimistic. Soulmates aren’t everything. You seemed to have forgotten that.
“You’ve dated other people before, so maybe you will. Keep your head up, sweetheart. Let’s finish packing your things.” Your mom said warmly.
The next day, you woke up early. You couldn’t sleep, mostly because you were leaving for Seoul today and because of your conversation about potentially meeting someone at college. Your dad’s words echoed in your head as you were trying to sleep, his words slowly morphed into fantasies that you played out in your head all night. Sitting up in your bed, you looked around your mostly empty room and sighed. You picked up your phone and saw that it was just past 4 a.m. Groaning, you pushed the covers off and got up, knowing you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep.
After getting ready for the day, you decided to just walk around your house. Looking into every room, all the picture frames and decor, capturing mental images and saving them in your head as you wouldn’t be back here for a long time. Your things were already packed away in your car, just waiting for you to drive away. Your parents will be accompanying you, only because they want to be the ones to show you all around the apartment they got for you. They thought you’d have a better experience in Seoul if you lived in an apartment rather than on campus. You didn’t realize how long you've been standing and staring at the pictures on the wall until the creak of the stairs brought you back to the present. 
“You're awake early.” Your dad stated amused.
“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep.” You said sleepily, a small yawn escaping after. 
Your mom laughed softly, and went to the kitchen, bringing back a tall glass of orange juice. 
“Here, sweetie,” she said and handed it to you. 
You downed it quickly (quicker than you should have), then turned to find your parents interacting cutely. Your dad was on one knee, tying the laces of your mom’s shoes for her while she looked at him lovingly. You smiled at the interaction, just admiring them. They were endearingly perfect for each other, and you were glad to witness their expressions of affection. 
“Ready?” Your dad asked animatedly. 
“How are you so awake every day?” You asked, failing to understand how they were able to sleep and actually have energy after waking up. 
To this your mom answered, 'It's a soulmate thing,” and that was all the explanation you needed. You put on your shoes and let out a huff. 
“Okay, let’s do this.” 
You took one more glance around the inside of your childhood home and then left, locking the front door behind you and meeting your parents in the driveway. You got into the backseat of your car, your dad insisting on driving, and your mom in the passenger seat. The drive was four hours long but felt like an eternity due to the anticipation. The closer you got to Seoul, the more you felt the nervousness bubble in the pit of your stomach. You rotated between looking out the window, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, twirling strands of your hair around your finger, and replying to texts from your friends asking how excited you must be. You tried replying wholeheartedly, but you were a mixture of excited, nervous, and scared– excited making up the smallest part of the ratio. After what felt like an endless journey, your dad stopped the car in front of a very luxurious-looking apartment building. Your eyes widened, mouth hanging open unintentionally as you looked out the window.
“Are you sure this is the right building?” You asked in both awe and shock as you stepped out of the car and craned your head upwards. 
They could only laugh at your response and actions. 
“It sure is.” Your mom replied, looking over at your dad and shooting him a proud look. 
“Come on, we’ll bring your stuff up a little later.” Your dad said and ushered you forward, taking your mom’s hand as the three of you walked into the building. 
Your eyes darted everywhere around the lobby, staying silent as you were at a loss for words. Your parents motioned for you to press the button for the elevator, and you did just that. 
“Press 12.” Your mom said excitedly.
Your eyes widened for the umpteenth time since arriving in Seoul, and you shakily pressed the button for the twelfth and highest floor. The elevator ride, unlike the car ride, was both smooth and faster than you were ready for. You followed them out of the elevator and they led you to the last door at the end of the hallway. 
“Would you like to do the honors?” Your dad asked you and held up a set of keys. 
You nodded and took the set of keys, fumbling them in your hands before finally unlocking the door to your new home for the next four years. You took small steps inside and gasped.
“This... is mine?” You asked, eyes still wide and full of doubt as you turned around to ask. 
“All yours sweetie.” Your mom confirmed and smiled lovingly. 
You took a look around the one-bedroom apartment, that was definitely too large for an 18-year-old. It had everything you could need, topped with a beautiful view of the city, and was within walking distance from your college campus. It all seemed too good to be true, too good to be all yours. You looked around cautiously, not daring to touch anything, barely even grasping the door knobs to see into each room. You came back to the lounge area and disbelief was written all over your face. 
“This is really for me?” You asked in a soft voice. 
They smiled at each other and your dad nodded at you. 
“It’s the very least you deserve since you earned a full scholarship. We wanted to get you a beautiful place with the money we put away for your college fund. Maybe you’ll continue to stay here after you graduate.” He said proudly.
Proud of you and all your accomplishments and proud of himself and your mom for finding such a perfect place for you. 
“I love it so much, how can I ever thank you?” You said, eyes now glossed over as you hugged both of your parents. 
“You don’t have to sweetie, just continue to do what you do and be happy. That’s all we could ask of you, for you to be happy.” Your mom said, and that almost made your pool of emotions overflow, but you held it in. 
They helped you bring your things from your car and they left soon after that, wanting to reminisce around the city they met in. It was Monday, and classes didn’t start until two weeks from now. The plan was to take the rest of this week to settle into your apartment, take next week to familiarize yourself with the city and take the week before classes started to explore your campus. 
However, things never go according to plan. By your third day here, you found yourself both bored and somewhat uneasy. The uneasiness had been present since you arrived, and you hoped it would settle by now. It did settle, by making home in the pit of your stomach with no intentions of easing up. It made you so restless that you were able to unpack most, if not all, of your things and even got your music room set up. That only took you two days, and now on the third day, you were sitting in the music room with your guitar just staring out the window. 
“Maybe I should go out today…” You thought to yourself, putting your guitar down and getting up.
You’d been living off whatever you and your mom brought from home and put in the fridge and the pantry. You decided to go out and look for the nearest convenience store or grocery store, and maybe take some time to wander around the area too. Stepping outside of your apartment building for the first time in three days, you typed “convenience store near me” into your phone and set off in whichever direction felt right.
After walking for a few minutes, you finally looked up and realized you had absolutely no idea where you wandered off to. Your phone is not being any help either, so you typed in the address of your apartment building and decided to start again. Luckily you didn’t wander off as far as you thought and when you got back to the only familiar building, you chose your steps carefully this time. That didn’t make a difference, because after a few minutes, you still found yourself lost. 
“Are you lost?” a voice asked from next to you. 
“Is it that obvious?” you asked and giggled softly, looking up from your phone to meet the eyes of a boy who looked around your age.
He was much taller than you, bleach blonde hair that had grown out a little and he had a very sweet look to him. 
“A little bit, yeah,” he replied with a slight laugh, “did you just move here?” he asked. 
“Yeah, I did, like three days ago. I’m originally from a little town in Ulsan.”
“Oh wow, that’s far. What made you move to Seoul?” 
“I’m here for college.”
“Wait, are you going to Seoul National University?” 
“Yes I am, do you go there?”
“I will be. Some friends of mine and I are all starting there in two weeks.”
“Guess I’ll see you around there too”
“I’m Kai”
“(Y/N)”
“Well (y/n), where were you trying to go? I’d love to help.”
“I’m trying to look for the closest convenience store.”
“Oh! There’s one super close to campus if you don’t mind walking there.”
“I don't mind at all, I was going to check out the campus  eventually anyways.”
“Alright then, follow me.”
You followed Kai as he walked to the convenience store he was talking about and you were grateful to find someone nice enough to help you. 
“So, what are you planning on majoring in?”
“Music composition.”
“My friends and I will also be in the music department. We’re in a band together.”
“Really? That’s so cool.”
“Yeah, we’ve been a band since high school and got enough recognition to get signed under a label.”
“Wow, that’s amazing. I’m a songwriter or lyricist if you will.”
“Oh, that’s really cool too. Do you play any instruments or do you just write?”
“I play the guitar.”
“I play the drums, our lead singer plays the guitar. Maybe you guys will get along well. And here we are, one convenience store.” He said and made a grand gesture causing you to laugh. 
“Thank you so much, I hope this wasn’t out of your way or anything.”
“Oh no worries, I was on my way back to campus. I should get back and help them move our stuff into the dorms. It was nice meeting you (y/n), see you around.”
“It was nice meeting you too Kai, thank you again.”
He waved at you and walked off in the direction the campus was in and you let out a sigh. The uneasiness in your stomach moved up to your chest while walking over here. Was Kai your soulmate? You thought to yourself and then remembered your mom’s words. There was no feeling of familiarity when you met Kai, and nothing… clicked. Letting out a huff, you shook the thoughts out of your head and went into the convenience store. 
Meanwhile, Kai was greeted with the sounds of frustrating groans and then the sound of something heavy being dropped.
“What took you so long?” Beomgyu asked, panting slightly. 
“Sorry, I ran into this girl and she was lost so I helped her.”
“Was she hot?”
“Is that seriously all that matters to you, Beomgyu?” Taehyun chimed in from his place on the floor. 
“Well if she was, I’ll let his lateness go.”
“Fine, yes, she was pretty,” Kai replied truthfully. 
“Okay, now please help Tae and me before one of us ends up killing the other,” Beomgyu said and pushed the hair out his face, bringing a hand to his chest. 
He wasn’t sure if it was because he’s been lugging boxes for the past thirty minutes or what, but his chest was hurting. Shaking it off, he clapped his hands together and picked up a lighter box, watching as Kai and Taehyun struggled to carry the big heavy box in front of him. 
You scanned the aisles of the convenience store, pleased with what you were seeing and picking up a few things. As you were checking out, a bright, colorful flyer caught your eye. It was from Big Dreams Music and it was a contest. Specifically, a songwriting contest, your forte. Taking a picture of the flyer, you put your phone back into your pocket and took the bag full of snacks, making your way back to your apartment. 
After putting your goodies away, you sat on the couch, pulling out your phone to read over the flyer you took a picture of. It was a songwriting competition for a band called Lethal Division. Their label wanted to change up their sound and was accepting entries. The band's name caused your heart to race out of nowhere. It was familiar to you, you’ve heard girls talk about them in high school, especially the lead singer. But that’s all you can recall when it comes to their image, you didn’t even know their names or anything. You’ve heard their music before, and you remember them being great in the beginning before they gained popularity. Now their music just sounded like noise and you’ve lost interest. You thought it was sad when music didn’t speak. You were always praised for your songs and how they moved people, so maybe you’d be able to help them move people too. You locked your phone, a slight frown on your face as you thought about what you should write. 
“I’ll sleep on it. And I should probably look them up tomorrow to get a better idea of what would suit them.” You said to yourself and decided to turn in for the night, hoping this ache in your chest would let you sleep for once. 
Waking up the next morning, you felt different, to say the least.  You felt warm from the inside. It was a comforting warmth. Better than the ache you’ve been feeling. The more you regained consciousness, the more you remembered the dream you had last night and you gasped. Sprinting out of bed, you hurriedly found an empty page in your songbook and started to write. 
Beomgyu woke up the next morning, his mind fuzzy. It felt as if he wasn’t here last night, but he knew that he was. The ache was gone from his chest, instead replaced by a comforting warmth, and he felt a small burning sensation on his arm. Looking, he saw a mark in the shape of a pen. The mark was small, barely noticeable and he wondered if one of the guys drew on him or he got a tattoo he just couldn’t remember. 
“Am I still dreaming? Why does this burn?” He thought to himself, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. 
Getting up, he tried not to trip over the many boxes littered around the room. They managed to bring all their stuff into their dorm but didn’t unpack any of it. All that was set up was his guitar stand for his precious guitar. He learned to play the guitar when he was in middle school, his dad taught him and it became his favorite pastime since he learned. So much so that he played guitar in his high school band. The other members of the band convinced him to perform at the end-of-year festival solo, and that was when he and the rest of the school discovered he had a voice. He never had singing lessons before, only really humming to himself from time to time. But his voice was beautiful, it was smooth and deep– and soothing, and people wanted to hear more. It was from there that his friends and him decided to start a band of their own, him being the lead singer and lead guitarist. They became fairly popular in school and their song covers are what led to Big Dreams Music discovering them and eventually signing them. It all felt like a whirlwind, but he didn’t mind it. This was his dream, after all, to be able to play guitar on stage. By their third year of high school, they had an ep out, songs fully written by them, and their popularity skyrocketed all around Seoul, even to other parts of the country.
 His ego also skyrocketed. They became known as the rockstars of their school, and he took advantage of his status sometimes. Their newfound fame eventually became more important than their music, their songs going from their heartfelt words to whatever the label thought would sell for them. None of them seemed to mind, knowing their newer fans were more there for their looks and just one chance for a night with a rockstar. Some fans got that chance, the old “band members taking a lucky fan backstage”  idea intrigued them, so after a show, that’s what they did and it became an infamous tradition. 
“We’re teenage boys.” Taehyun would always say and shrug it off. He was right, they were teenage boys– good-looking, talented teenage boys who had needs.
 Their last show was their high school graduation party, and they couldn’t carry out their little tradition then. Instead, they had to pack up for college. Seoul National University offered him and his friends admission to their music department, and although he thought college wasn’t too necessary, he couldn’t refuse the offer. Their music department was the best in the world, and getting to meet college girls wasn’t too bad of a perk either. 
Since classes haven’t started yet, he has yet to meet any college girls. Instead, the guys and him would go out and enjoy Seoul’s nightlife. He knew he was attractive, it was undeniable, and being a rockstar only made it that much easier to get anyone he wanted. However, it was nothing more than that, he never thought he wanted anything more. At least that's how it appeared to everyone on the outside, on the inside– he felt incomplete, and despite living his dream, there was still something missing. He heard the stories about soulmates here and there, not believing in them though. He thought it was too good to be true, the notion that there was someone out there just for him.
 When he was younger, he looked it up out of curiosity. And after seeing that there was practically no chance of him having one because of the rarity, he tossed any hope he had out the window. Though part of him thinks there’s still a chance, cause he still hasn’t had a steady relationship. His “love life” consists of many baseless hookups, both him and whoever he was with for the night wanting only one thing from each other. This had been working for him, he was overall satisfied and his needs were being met, until recently. A few days ago there had been this uneasy feeling building in his chest, and it had been prominent until now. Now, it was gone and replaced by an internal warm and fuzzy feeling. He didn’t know how to explain it to Kai and Taehyun without sounding insane, now he didn’t have to. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on the door. 
“Gyu, are you up?” Taehyun called from the other side. 
He opened the door to reveal a slightly disheveled Taehyun, bright eyes wider than usual. 
“Yeah, I was just about to get ready for the day, what’s up? Why do you look like you've seen a ghost?”
“The label called.” 
His eyes now widened to match Taehyun’s and he felt his hands start to clam up. 
“What did they say…?” He hesitantly asked. 
“They need all three of us to come in right now.”
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair multiple times. 
“Is Hyuka awake?”
“Yeah, he was the one who got the call.”
“Alright, let’s see what they want.”
They got ready quickly and waited for the car to take them to their label’s building. Beomgyu was anxious– no he was scared. Every time they got a call from the label out of nowhere, he was always scared of suddenly being dropped. They all shared this fear, they worked hard for their fame and although their band isn't what it used to be, it was still their dream. A dream they didn't want to wake up from yet. The company car dropped them off in front of the building and they went to their usual meeting room. Everyone was already there waiting for them. 
“We’re holding a contest.” Their manager announced. 
The three of them let go of the breath they've been holding in, it coming out as a collective sigh of relief. The looks of nervousness were quickly replaced by confusion. 
“A contest for what?” Kai was the one to speak up.
“A contest to find your new sound. According to data we've been compiling, your music is no longer selling well and we think a completely new songwriter will help.”
Beomgyu sat up fully now, intrigued by their producer’s words and he crossed his arms. 
“And why can’t we go back to writing our own songs?”
“Because I'm not sure you guys know how to do that anymore.”
Their producer’s words felt like a slap to the face. Beomgyu knew he was right, what could he possibly write about now that had any substance? Fame? Money? Sex? That was all people wrote about now and he didn’t show it anymore, but he wanted their band to be different. After that little meeting, the flyers that were put up about the contest became more evident to him. They were there for god knows how long, but he’s only seeing them now.
 “How caught up in myself am I?” He thought to himself, resting his head on the window of the car as it drove them back to their dorm. 
You had been writing for hours, eventually moving to your music room, guitar on standby to play any melody that came to mind. The dream last night was unlike anything you've ever experienced. It felt like you were watching a movie, except you were able to feel and experience everything the main character was. It wasn’t entirely clear, but whoever the dream was about had such complex thoughts and a beautiful outlook on life, yet it was clear (at least to you) that they were holding something back. Before moving to your music room, you called your parents to tell them what you've been experiencing and about the dream. Your mom confirmed that what you had last night was a soulmate dream, and from now on until you meet him, this is how you will be learning about him. This was more than exciting news, you had a soulmate, he was close by, and just from the first dream, you already knew he was everything you've been missing. 
A little more than a week had passed, a new dream every night and you were certain that your soulmate was perfect in every way. Every morning when you woke up, you woke up with that warm, comforting feeling. It went away after some time during the day, replaced by the same ache from before, but always came back when you woke up from a dream. 
You finished writing the song and even wrote a few more, all either about him or inspired by him. The deadline for the contest was today, so right now you’re filling out the submission form. Chewing on your bottom lip, you flipped through the pages of your songbook, trying to decide which one to send in. You decided to go with the one you started writing after having the first dream. It had a theme of meeting for the first time, the song sending a message saying “I’ve been waiting for you” or "Where have you been?” Your hands were shaking while uploading the lyrics and the melody you wrote, the last thing left to be filled out was the name the submission would be under.
You had a distinct writing style, and you were always proud of your work, but that was in your small town in Ulsan. This was for a big record label in Seoul. Your thoughts started to eat away at you, fingers hovering over the delete key more than any other one on the keyboard. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes tightly. You didn’t want to have any regrets so, without a second thought, you quickly opened your eyes, typed “Lyric” into the name box, and hit send. 
Classes started soon after that, the contest now fading to the back of your mind. You continued to have soulmate dreams, and whoever he was continued to inspire you. You were certain he was beautiful, both inside and out, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. You tried to keep your thoughts chained to what you knew. Which was that he was nearby and he shared your love for music. You shared many other things too, from what you’ve learned in the dreams, and it only made you want to meet him as soon as you could. However you couldn’t actively pursue him, it needed to happen naturally. Of all the stories you heard, when the soul link became evident, both parties would feel a pull to the other. Not a physical pull of course, but something in your mind and your heart that says that you need to go and talk to that person. With the start of classes, you didn’t know if you’ve felt that pull to anyone. Mostly because all of your attention has been thrown into your studies. 
 You hadn’t seen Kai since you first met him, even though he said his friends and him were also attending this college and were also in the music department. Being in the music department didn’t mean he was also in the same major or that you’d share any classes though. Aside from that, much to your surprise, some of your professors have heard of you. They knew all about the music prodigy from Ulsan, who was raised by a rare couple of soulmates. And because of this, they decided to try and make your life here a living hell. They weren’t convinced that it all came naturally to you and that you would crumble under pressure. You were determined to prove them wrong though, and you have been, even catching some of them off guard by how quickly and skillfully you were able to submit their assignments. You felt like you’ve been swept up in a storm, and it didn’t seem like it would be easing up any time soon. Any free time you had, you spent writing. Either lyrics that come to mind or anything you can remember from your dreams. 
The semester carried on like this and it felt like you were the only one being swamped with work. You were beyond stressed out, not expecting college to be like this. Everyone else around you seemed to have free time for dating or parties or anything else, as you’d hear them talk about plans all the time. You’d hear mentions of that band too, mostly about the release of their next single. 
“It’s been so long since we’ve gotten new music from them” you heard one girl say. 
“I know right, and I heard it’s supposed to be better this time.” 
“Yeah! They got a new songwriter or something.” 
“Even if it isn’t good, they’re all still hot.” 
“Yeah, and new music means concerts. And you know what concerts mean” 
“And since they go here, we’ve got an even better chance” 
You started to tune out at this point in their conversation, realization taking over your features. 
“Kai said he was in a band and that they go here.” You recalled. 
“Apparently Lethal Division goes here and they have a new songwriter..” You started to connect the dots. 
“The contest.” You froze and finally concluded that Kai’s band is that band and the contest was to change up their new sound. 
Quickly, you pull out your laptop to check your email, you scrolled through hundreds of emails to see if the record label got back to you. Finally, you came across it. You won. Or well, Lyric did. And the new single they were coming back with, was going to be one written by you. You read through the email as thoroughly as you could and you still couldn’t believe what you were reading. You received the email almost a month ago, and they probably thought you ignored them. Sighing, you packed up your stuff and left the lecture hall, going to the practice room you reserved. Your stress suddenly increased, an even heavier weight crushing your shoulders as you walked. You weren’t one to be forgetful, not like this, but judging from the fact that they were still using your song, you guess the email was just to inform you. 
You got to the building the practice rooms were in and trudged to room 0121, the one you reserved. However, instead of being met with an empty practice room, you were met with the door locked shut, the sound of instruments and loud laughter on the other side. Dropping your head, you closed your eyes and tried to center yourself. The ache in your chest intensified all of a sudden and you took that as a sign to go home. You also didn’t have the energy to argue with whoever was in there. Opening your eyes, you took one last look at the locked door and left.
Beomgyu didn't think college would go by this smoothly. He thought a school with such a renowned music program would be more difficult, but it’s been the opposite. Maybe it was the fact that he was rockstar Choi Beomgyu, but he found his classes to be a breeze. All the free time his bandmates and he had, was spent either partying or rehearsing for their comeback. The contest was a better idea than he realized. He wasn't going to give their label too much credit though. Their producer and them went through all the entries together on the days they didn't have class and the winning entry was nothing short of incredible. It was by someone who, fittingly, went by "Lyric”. It felt like the song was written just for him, the lyrics struck a feeling in everyone's heart as they listened to the demo. The sound was just what they needed, and he couldn't wait to perform it on stage. 
Beomgyu spent the next few days practicing the lyrics to Lyric's song, trying to perfect every cadence and melody. He found himself humming it in the shower and even while he was trying to sleep. The more he practiced, the more he fell in love with it. It spoke to him in a way no other song had before. One thing that never changed about Beomgyu, was that he loved being on stage more than anyone else. He felt like how he did when they first formed the band and he hasn’t felt this eager about their music in a long time. His band members could tell how much the song meant to him and they loved seeing him like this, it made them excited to perform as well.  
Beomgyu’s only class for the day went by slowly, he didn’t want to be there, and staring at the clock only seemed to make time pass slower. When the professor dismissed them, he was the first out of the room, immediately making his way to the building where the practice rooms were. He got stopped along the way by a few girls, which he of course had to entertain for a bit.  The school gave Beomgyu and his bandmates the privilege of rehearsing whenever they wanted without having to reserve a room, so when he got there, he went to the first empty room he could find. Taehyun didn’t have classes today, so he would be bringing Beomgyu’s guitar and there was already a keyboard and drums in the room. Kai’s class would end soon and then they would practice the setlist for their upcoming show. 
Beomgyu sat down on the floor in front of the keyboard, waiting impatiently for Taehyun to arrive with his guitar. He couldn't wait to start rehearsing. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, envisioning himself on stage, the crowd cheering loudly as he performed their new hit single. Suddenly, the door creaked open and he opened his eyes to see Taehyun walking in with his guitar case.
"Finally, you're here," Beomgyu said, grinning.
"Sorry, I got held up," Taehyun replied, setting down Beomgyu's guitar and taking his place in front of the keyboard. 
"But now that I'm here, let's get started."
Kai walked in a few minutes later, panting slightly from having to rush to get here.
"I made it," he said with a smile as he sat down at the drumset.
They started with their new single, and Beomgyu's voice filled the room as he sang the first verse. They played through their setlist multiple times, perfecting each song until it was flawless. As they played, Beomgyu couldn't help but get lost in the music, feeling every emotion conveyed by his guitar. It was cathartic, playing music with his best friends by his side.
After a few hours of practice, they decided to take a break and grab some food from the vending machines down the hall. They sat on the floor of the practice room, munching on chips and drinking soda as they talked about their upcoming show.
"I can't wait to see the look on our fans' faces when we start playing," Taehyun said excitedly.
Kai nodded in agreement. "It's gonna be fucking amazing." 
Beomgyu felt a sudden surge of adrenaline at the thought of performing for their fans. He knew that they had been waiting eagerly for this concert, and he wanted to make sure that it was the best show they had ever put on. He glanced around at Taehyun and Kai and knew that they felt the same way. As they finished their snacks, Beomgyu stood up and stretched his arms above his head. 
"Let's get back to it," he said, his voice filled with determination.
They made their way back to their instruments and started playing once again. This time, they focused on fine-tuning their performance, working on every little detail until it was perfect. Beomgyu felt like he was in a trance, lost in the music. Rehearsing soon turned into them fooling around, playing random chords, and laughing. As they played, he couldn't help but feel a sense of heat building up inside him. That ache from before suddenly intensified in his chest and he had to stop. 
“You okay man?” Kai asked concerned, standing up from his place at the drums and looking at Taehyun. 
“We should call it for today,” Taehyun spoke up hesitantly. 
Beomgyu didn’t want to, but the ache was taking a lot out of him. He put a hand over his chest and sighed. 
"Yeah, I think that's a good idea," Beomgyu said, his voice small.
 He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. 
"Was I getting sick?" He thought to himself. 
The sound of the door trying to be opened caught his attention and all three of them turned to the door. A few seconds later, the ache settled down, back to how it was before. He got used to the feeling in the pit of his stomach, except for now, when it spiked like this. He put his guitar back in its case and slung it over his shoulder, the three of them going back to their dorm. 
The moment you got back to your apartment, you sat on your bed and just stared out the window. A lot happened just now, and you were overwhelmed, to say the least. You found out that you won the contest, and the label was practically relying on your song to bring the band back to where they used to be music-wise. You also realized that Kai was in that band and they went to school with you. And lastly, whoever was in that room had to be your soulmate. The closer you got to the practice room, the more your chest ached, and when you were in front of the door, it pained you more than it ever had before. All you wanted was to relieve your stress by writing, however, that wasn’t going to happen now. Yes, you had your music room in your apartment, but you always wrote there. You wanted a change of scenery, and whoever was behind the locked door clearly didn’t know what reserved meant. 
When Beomgyu got back to his dorm, he immediately went to his room. He didn’t understand what was going on with him. Every morning he woke up feeling warm, and as if he just got back from somewhere. Then, the mark on his arm. He asked Taehyun and Kai if any of them drew it on him, and they couldn’t even see it. Instead, they asked if he had some kind of sixth sense where he could see things they couldn’t, while laughing at him. It was there though. He saw it clearly. The small mark in the shape of a pen. Lastly, the ache. He’s been feeling it since they moved into the dorm on campus. It’s been bearable, settling in his stomach and it never bothered him much. Not until today. Today it felt like someone was squeezing his heart and it hurt. He couldn’t be getting sick, it would ruin everything right now. And if he wasn’t getting sick, he didn’t know how else to explain what was happening to him. 
You thought the dreams would stop since you were so close to your soulmate yesterday. They haven’t, you continued to have them but they were a little different now. They seemed more current, you were learning about how he was feeling and things he was thinking about now. Before, you learned about what he was like, things he experienced that made him who he is, like an introduction. All of it was fuzzy, but you remembered what you needed to. Last night’s dream made you wake up feeling worried, even with the warm feeling present. The dream allowed you to learn that your soulmate was distressed, almost upset about something. It was strange to you, how you don’t know this person but you do. How you care about someone you haven’t even properly met, and how you were able to understand him completely. Whoever he was.
You sighed and got up. It was Saturday today, and it was your first completely free day in a while. The band’s concert is next week, where they will debut your song as their new single. You were avoiding anything about it like the plague, you weren’t going to go to the concert either. No one else has ever performed your songs before, and the thought of that made embarrassment wash over you. Despite it being your free day, you couldn’t shake what you learned in your dream. Pulling out your songbook, you started to write. 
It was Saturday today, and even though Beomgyu was out late last night, he woke up bright and early. He thought partying would distract him from thinking about everything, and it did, but only for a short while. The girl he was with last night didn’t help much either. For once he felt unsatisfied, he needed more. More of what? That, he didn’t know. Maybe it was his nerves because the concert was coming up and they were trying a new sound. He woke up feeling warm again, the feeling now something he’s gotten used to. He thought it was nice, to wake up feeling warm and comfortable. He wished it would last longer than it did, fading not too long after he woke up. 
Beomgyu got out of bed and stretched, feeling a sudden pang of self-doubt. He knew it was the concert looming over him, it had to be, and the fear of not being able to deliver something new and exciting to his fans. The pressure was weighing heavily on him, but he couldn't let it show. He had to keep up the facade that he was confident and in control.
He made his way to the kitchen to make himself some breakfast, but his mind was elsewhere. He couldn't shake off the feeling of dissatisfaction and longing. He needed something to distract himself, something to take his mind off the concert and all these other things happening to him. 
You wrote for most of the day, composing a song meant to make him feel better. Aside from that, you used your free time to talk to your friends, catch up on your shows, and go grocery shopping. Some of your friends were also attending college in Seoul and they planned to go out tonight. You weren’t against going out, it just wasn’t your favorite thing. Yet here you were, putting on a dress, too short to be considered one, and getting ready to go out with them. You felt you looked good, hot even. You haven’t gotten dressed up like this in a while, let alone been to a party or club. Your friends claimed that you needed something to relieve your stress, their exact words being “someone” not “something”.
No one but your parents knew about your soulmate, and you didn’t want to tell anyone else yet. Having a soulmate was a big deal, and you didn’t want the night to turn into them trying to find him for you. But you also didn’t want them to push you onto another guy. It felt like you were cheating. But how could you cheat on someone who was yours, but didn’t know you existed yet? It was complicated. Looking at your phone you saw it was nearing 9 pm, you all agreed to meet up at the house the party was being thrown at 9. It wasn’t a far drive from your apartment, so you took your time getting ready and ordering your Uber.
The guys could tell Beomgyu wasn’t okay. He was normally good at hiding his emotions, but his distress was written plainly on his face. There was another party tonight, and it surprisingly took convincing from his friends for him to go. He gave himself one last look in the mirror, satisfied with how he looked. Kai said he needed a distraction or two, and he knew what he meant. It was around 9:30 p.m. when they met up in the general lounge area after getting ready. Taehyun slung an arm over his shoulders. 
“This is just nerves because of the concert. But don’t worry, after our concert, we’ll start up our tradition again and things will be back to normal.” Taehyun said and smirked, giving him a nudge. 
He was right. This was all just nerves. Beomgyu was fine, he just needed to let go at this party. 
You’ve only been here for an hour and you remember why you didn’t go to parties often. You felt awkward, people you recognized from school were here yet you still felt like an outsider. This was technically your first college party. You stood in a corner of the crowded living room, clutching a red plastic cup filled with cheap beer. Your eyes scanned the room, taking in the throngs of people laughing, shouting, and dancing to a throbbing bass beat. You felt a pang of regret for coming here, or maybe it was just the ache in your chest that all of a sudden spiked again. Your soulmate was here. Despite that, you thought it was a mistake to follow your friends and attend this party.
It didn’t take long for Beomgyu to get comfortable, the party scene being a familiar environment for him and his friends. As soon as he set foot into the house, the ache in his chest spiked again but he wasn’t going to let it bother him this time. After a few drinks, he found himself in the middle of a group of girls. He was sitting in the middle of the couch, girls surrounding him trying to get a word in or touch him in some way. Beomgyu smirked, enjoying the attention but his mind was elsewhere. He scanned the room, his eyes landing on you. You were standing in the corner, looking uncomfortable and out of place. Beomgyu’s heart ached at the sight of you, you were beautiful, too beautiful to be alone like that. 
You couldn't stay here. You had no idea where your friends disappeared and your soulmate was here. It was overwhelming to think that someone in this plethora of mostly tipsy people, was your person. Your eyes did another scan of the room, looking for any signs of your friends. Instead of your friends though, your eyes found a boy. He was on the couch, surrounded by a group of beautiful girls vying for his attention. It made sense because he was gorgeous, prettier than anyone you’ve ever seen probably. His gaze shifted to you and you felt weak in the knees. Shaking your head and looking away, you took a deep breath and made your way to the door. 
Beomgyu excused himself from the girls and made his way towards where you were. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, he was nervous but he knew he had to make a move. When he got up though, he saw that you were gone. He panicked for a moment, realizing that he might have missed his opportunity. However, he quickly regained his composure, telling himself that he wouldn't let you slip away that easily. Beomgyu maneuvered his way through the crowd, looking around the room frantically for any sign of you, but you were nowhere to be found. The ache in his chest settled, but now it was replaced by his heart pounding, full of disappointment. 
You got back to your apartment not too long after you left the party, quickly texting your friends and telling them that you went home. The ache dissipated as soon as you stepped out of the house. Your soulmate was at that party, but all you could think about was the boy you locked eyes with.
Days passed and you still couldn't get the boy from the party out of your head. His image kept flashing before your eyes, making it hard to focus. You weren't sure what it was about him that had you so captivated. Maybe it was the way his eyes seemed to light up when they met yours or the way he carried himself with an air of confidence that made you weak in the knees. Whatever it was, you wanted to see him again. The concert is tomorrow and the label called you earlier today, inviting you to come. You already made up your mind though, way before they called. 
Beomgyu couldn’t get you out of his mind. Even after he went back to his group of girls at the party, you were all he could think about. Days had passed since the party and he tried looking for you on campus. He was completely distracted, even messing up during rehearsal for their concert tomorrow. As he walked back to his dorm room, Beomgyu couldn't shake off the feeling of disappointment. He was sure he missed his chance with you, and he knew he couldn't let that happen again. He needed to see you again. Maybe you’ll be there tomorrow. It was a long shot, but it was worth a try. This was unfamiliar to him, usually he was the one being sought after and he let girls come to him. Not the other way around. But you, something was pulling him to you, something inside him was saying  "Go talk to her."
The next night came and Beomgyu was determined to perform his heart out. He knew it was a long shot that you would be there, so he tried to focus solely on the performance. As soon as the band started playing, Beomgyu felt a wave of emotion come over him. It was like his heart was speaking through the music, telling a story of longing and desire. He sang with all his heart, every note ringing true. The song Lyric wrote couldn't be more perfect, and Taehyun and Kai were feeding off of Beomgyu's and the crowd's energy. The crowd went wild, cheering loudly, and were full of awe at the lyrics of their new single. But amidst all the noise and excitement, Beomgyu's eyes were searching the crowd for you. You were nowhere to be found and his heart sank, but only for a split second. The lights were flashing, the crowd was still screaming and he felt alive. The audience yelled their approval and the show was over before they knew it. 
Beomgyu walked off stage after Kai and Taehyun, feeling a complete rush of adrenaline. As he walked backstage, he couldn't help but scan the crowd again, hoping for a glimpse of you. However, you were still nowhere to be found. Beomgyu's heart sank once more, but he knew he had to keep it together. He couldn't let his disappointment show, especially in front of his fans. After the concert, they were all signing autographs and taking pictures, flirting around to see who they'd take back to their dressing rooms. Beomgyu tried his best to keep his cool, sexy rockstar image up, but he didn't feel like taking some random girl back this time. His heart just wasn't in it. He sent a quick look to Taehyun and Kai, who looked at him surprised but still nodded back, and he left without another word, leaving the girls who were killing for their chance with him confused. 
The song you wrote for them became a huge hit and the label called you again, wanting you to write another one for them. You couldn’t deny how much your heart skipped a beat when they said the members were requesting it personally. You told the label that you would love to, however after you agreed to one more song, their request quickly changed from one to enough songs for a full-length album. They didn’t let you respond before they hung up on you, your mouth still hanging open in shock. Sighing you closed your eyes, trying not to panic because you knew you had more than enough lyrics written, but they were just that- lyrics.
Opening your eyes, you went to your room, retrieved your laptop, and looked up the band. You thought you should at least know their names and what they looked like if you were going to be writing their next album. You also wanted to hear what the final, produced version of your song sounded like. You looked up their band name and the title of your song first, playing the audio version. Your eyes widened at the sound of a deep, smooth voice starting the song, goosebumps forming along your arm. You assumed this was the lead singer, his voice sending shivers down your spine as the song continued. When it came to an end, you were left in awe, they did your words justice and you felt proud. Shaking yourself out of it, you looked up the band name next and their group picture made your heart stop. There he was, right in the middle of the trio, the boy from the party. Pictures didn’t do him justice, you concluded. The more pictures of them you went through, you found yourself looking at him more than the other two. Not on purpose, your eyes just naturally gravitating to him. Your heart was racing again like the night you saw him for the first time.
However, the ache in your chest suddenly reminded you of your soulmate and you went from feeling awestruck to guilty in mere seconds. Was it possible to feel attraction to someone that wasn’t your soulmate? Or maybe he was your soulmate… You didn’t know and you were confusing yourself. 
Shaking your head to snap out of it, you clicked through a few links. The members' names were Kai (whom you already met by chance), Taheyun, and Beomgyu. Kai played drums and sometimes sang, Taehyun played the keyboard and sang, and Beomgyu played guitar and was the lead singer. You couldn't help but feel drawn to Beomgyu. You chastised yourself for even thinking about him this much. You had a soulmate, for crying out loud. You closed your laptop and lay back on your bed, trying to clear your head. But every time you closed your eyes, you saw Beomgyu's face and heard his voice singing your words.
Beomgyu was still feeling the adrenaline from the show last night even though it's morning now. It felt like an eternity since he stepped off stage yet he could still remember every moment in perfect detail - every reaction from the crowd, every part of himself he gave in each song. The label was pleased with the reaction to the new single and said they were thinking about making Lyric the official new songwriter. Beomgyu couldn't believe it. He knew that they had something special with the song Lyric wrote, but for the label to consider bringing her on as their official new songwriter was a dream come true. He knew he had to meet her, to thank her personally for the magic she brought back to their music. His mind then shifted from Lyric to you. He wished you showed up last night. He was all over the place, he felt drawn to both you and Lyric, and for the first time, he didn’t know what to do. 
The semester ended not long after, and you and Beomgyu welcomed the reprieve. During the break, you composed songs for the band's next album, communicating with the label only through your alias "Lyric" and over the phone. The label was awestruck with your gift and offered you a job to be the band's official songwriter in exchange. You accepted without hesitation since this was practically your wish come true. And so that's how you secured a permanent job, all the while hoping your second semester wouldn't be as hectic as the first. 
Beomgyu spent his break trying to clear his head. He couldn't stop thinking about you and Lyric. It was like he was being pulled in two different directions, each one equally tempting. He couldn't decide who he was more drawn to, and he was starting to feel guilty about it. He had never felt this way before. He was a rockstar, he was confident and in control. But now, he felt lost and confused. They had two shows over the break and he found solace in the usual flashing lights and screaming fans. But it didn't last too long.
He and his friends also started recording the songs for their new album, most of them being written and composed by Lyric. Beomgyu couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement every time Lyric's words were sung. They were all so raw and emotional, and they fit the band's style perfectly. They fit him perfectly, and it never failed to surprise him, how understood he felt. He found himself constantly thinking about her, wondering who she was and what she looked like. He wanted to tell her how much the songs meant to him, how they made him feel alive and understood. But he couldn't. He didn't even know who she was.
When you arrived on campus the following Monday, it marked the beginning of the second semester.  You didn’t expect to see Beomgyu sitting under a tree by the lake with his guitar. You went the entire first semester without seeing him once. 
“What was he doing here so early?” you thought to yourself, watching the way his fingers gently strummed at the guitar. You couldn't help but smile at the way his fingers moved effortlessly over the strings. He was so focused, and so passionate, and it was beautiful to watch. You couldn't bring yourself to go over there like you originally planned, so instead, you decided to leave him be and simply admire him from afar for a little before leaving. While walking back to the main area of the campus, the warm feeling was still present from your dream, so you brought your mind back to your soulmate. The dreams still occur every night and from what you can remember from last night, your soulmate has been feeling a mixture of things. Most of all though, he was confused, just like you.
As the week went by, you couldn't help but think about Beomgyu. You've been seeing him more on campus lately, in the library, in the cafeteria, in between classes. He was either with his bandmates or surrounded by girls, and an obnoxious smirk took over his pretty face most of the time. You tried to push him out of your mind, but it was like he was always there, lurking in the back of your thoughts.``It's just because he's so pretty." You kept trying to remind yourself, also recalling the one time you heard him open his mouth, his words making your eyes roll. You had a soulmate, and that was all that mattered. Your soulmate was perfect to you, perfect for you, and he wasn't an obnoxious rockstar who thought he was better than everyone. 
You tried to avoid him as much as possible, but fate seemed to have other plans. One day, while walking to your next class, you accidentally bumped into him, your lyrics and sheet music flying out of your hands and scattering across the hallway. 
"I'm so sorry," you said, bending down to pick up your things.
"It's fine," Beomgyu said softly, crouching down to help you. As your hands brushed briefly while reaching for the same paper, a spark went off and that warmth spread throughout your entire body, you looked up at him, surprised. He didn't give you a single look though, but even that didn't diminish your surprise.
At that moment, you knew. You found him. Beomgyu was your soulmate. 
You tried to shake off the feeling to remain calm and gather your papers, but Beomgyu’s touch lingered on your hand, sending shivers down your spine. You looked up at him again, and he met your gaze this time. You could see the surprise and confusion in his eyes as well. 
“Do you feel that?” he whispered, his voice barely audible above the noise in the hallway. 
You nodded, unable to speak. You knew exactly what he was talking about. The warmth, the spark, the connection. It was unmistakable.
"I've been looking for you," he admitted, his eyes not leaving yours.
When he finally acknowledged you, his eyes were full of surprise. It was you, the beautiful girl from the party, the one he couldn’t get out of his head. His world felt like it finally aligned again, the warmth he would feel every morning, was present now while he was in front of you. The mark on his arm tingled, as if reminding him that it was there. He looked at the papers he picked up for you, “(y/n)” he read to himself, “so that was your name.” He then remembered that the mark on his arm was of a pen. 
"Wait, are you a composer?" He asked, eyes widening in realization. 
You couldn't believe what was happening. Beomgyu was your soulmate? The obnoxious rockstar who you'd been trying to avoid since the semester started, was the one you were meant to be with? It didn't make any sense. But as you looked into his eyes, you knew it was true. The way he looked at you, the way he touched your hand, it was all too real. And it felt right. The connection between you was too strong to ignore. But you can’t do this right now. Instead of answering him, you hurriedly took your papers from him and walked off in the opposite direction, not giving him a chance to say anything else.
 You found yourself in a space between two buildings outside. Your heart was racing, and you couldn’t breathe. After you calmed down, you closed your eyes, your head leaning back and gently hitting the wall. You were mad at yourself first of all. Mad for judging him without even talking to him. You knew your soulmate, but you didn’t know Beomgyu. You thought you didn't want to know Beomgyu. But now you did. And it scared you. You didn't know how to handle it. It was like everything you thought you knew was turned upside down. You took a deep breath and opened your eyes, knowing that you had to face him eventually. You couldn't ignore your soulmate. You couldn’t stay on campus right now either, so you blew off your classes and went back to your apartment. 
Beomgyu stood there, shocked. You ran away from him. His shock was replaced by confusion and then by longing — a need to figure out what everything meant. You clearly knew something based on your reaction, but he didn’t know much. What he did know was that he liked how he felt with you, like it was comfortable and exciting all at once. He liked the way his heart raced when he looked into your eyes, the way his skin tingled when he touched your hand, the way everything just clicked into place. Instead of classes, he went back to his dorm, he wasn’t going to get anything out of you right now so he had to do some research of his own.
As you walked into your apartment, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. You needed to clear your head and figure out what to do next. It also wasn't fair to leave Beomgyu hanging like that, he probably had a lot of questions. You sat down on your bed and closed your eyes, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. It was all too much to process, and you needed to sort everything out. You remembered the different types of soul links your mom told you about, trying to piece together everything that linked you and Beomgyu. You couldn’t do this by yourself, you needed him. You always needed someone like him, but right now, you needed him because you both had to put this together. 
When Beomgyu got to his dorm, he went to his room and took out his laptop. He started to research all the things he’s been feeling and the mark on his arm. He came to the conclusion that he had a soulmate. You. You were his soulmate and you had to have known that. He was one of the very few to have a soulmate and he found you. He couldn't believe it. He felt like the luckiest man in the world. But then he realized that you ran away from him earlier. He didn't know why, but he knew he had to find you. He needed you, he felt as if he always needed you, but right now, you two needed to talk. 
That night you couldn’t sleep, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. You tossed and turned in bed, trying to quell the butterflies that seemed to be dancing in your stomach. You knew all about him, and he probably didn’t know a thing about you, not even your name. Did he get the same ache in his chest you did? Did it turn into that warm feeling when he woke up too? Did he have dreams like you?  If he’s your soulmate, what was he so distressed about that one time? All these questions and more swirled around in your head. One thing you knew for sure though, you wanted to be there for him, always.
He couldn't stop thinking about you either. He wanted to know everything about you, your hopes, your dreams. He wanted to be the one to make you laugh when you were feeling down, the one to hold you close when you were feeling alone. He wanted to be there for you, always. That was the one thing he was sure about amidst all the confusion. 
You woke up early the next morning, not having slept much to begin with. You stretched out your arms, feeling a satisfying ache course through your body. You didn't have a dream last night, which you expected, but it didn't stop you from waking up feeling warm and fuzzy inside. The first coherent thing on your mind was Beomgyu. You needed to see him today, no matter what. Even though you had no classes today, you were still going to campus to look for him. You knew exactly where to go. You just hoped he had the same idea. 
Beomgyu woke up early the next morning. He stretched his arms wide, letting out a yawn that reverberated through his chest. Placing a hand on his heart, he recalled yesterday's events, a smile blooming across his face at the thought of you. You were all he could think about now and he needed to see you again. Despite having just one class today, something pulled him towards the lake this morning. The scent of fresh dew coated the grass beneath his feet as he walked down the dirt path, still quiet in these early morning hours. Birds chirped overhead as he approached the sparkling waters of the lake. The surface rippled gently in tune with the slight breeze. A sense of calm washed over him as he took in the beauty before him, he took his place under the big tree he always sat under and started to strum at his guitar. 
As you walked towards the lake, you could hear the sound of a guitar in the distance. You smiled to yourself, knowing that it was Beomgyu. You could see him sitting under the big tree by the lake, strumming. Beomgyu noticed you and paused his playing, looking up at you with a small smile. You felt your heart skip a beat as his eyes met yours, the same way they did at the party. You quickly looked down, feeling a blush creeping up on your cheeks. Beomgyu cleared his throat, breaking the silence.
 "Good morning," he said, his voice smooth and deep, sending shivers down your spine. 
You looked up at him and smiled.
 "Good morning," you replied softly. 
"What are you doing here so early?" 
Beomgyu chuckled, closing his guitar case. 
"I come here sometimes to practice," he said, standing up.
 "It's peaceful here, isn't it?"
 You nodded. You felt comfortable around Beomgyu.
"I agree," you said softly.
 "It's my favorite place on campus."
“Mine too.” 
"Beomgyu," you said softly, your heart racing and you squeezed your eyes shut. "Can we talk?" 
As you stood there, waiting for his response, you heard footsteps approaching. You opened your eyes and saw Beomgyu standing in front of you. 
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice soft. "I didn't mean to scare you off."
You looked up at him, feeling a mix of emotions. 
"No, I'm sorry for running away earlier. I just needed some time to process everything."
"It's okay," he said quickly. 
"I understand. I've been doing some research myself, and I think I know what's going on."
You felt a wave of relief wash over you. You weren't alone in this.
"What do you mean?" you asked, your curiosity piqued.
"I think we're soulmates," he said simply, and you could hear the smile in his voice.
You couldn’t help but smile too. You were glad he figured it out. You reached out to gently grasp his hand and intertwine your fingers, sparks shooting up your arm more intense than yesterday. 
“We are.” You confirmed, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
Beomgyu's eyes widened in surprise at the sudden sparks that shot up his arm. He felt a jolt of electricity run through his body as he looked into your eyes. He had never felt such a strong connection with anyone before. It was like you were meant to be together.
"I can't believe it," he whispered, pulling you closer to him. "We're soulmates."
You felt a rush of electricity through your body at his touch. You had never felt so safe and secure with anyone before. It was like everything in your life finally made sense. You leaned into him, feeling his arms wrap around you in a tight embrace.
"I've been dreaming about you," you admitted, feeling a sense of embarrassment wash over you.
Beomgyu pulled back slightly, looking at you with a gentle smile. He held out his arm to you, and a small gasp left your lips. On his arm was a small mark, it was shaped like a pen. 
“Can you see it?” He asked, “When I showed my friends my arm, they couldn’t see anything.” He continued and chuckled softly. 
“They thought I was crazy and had some sort of sixth sense or something.”
“I can see it.” You reached out to touch the pen mark on his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingertips. 
Beomgyu shuddered at your touch, feeling the sparks fly between you. You felt them too, and you knew that this was real, that he was the one for you. 
“You probably have a lot of questions,” you said and looked up at him, letting your fingers trail down his arm to take his hand in yours again. 
Beomgyu nodded, his eyes fixed on you. He had so many questions he wanted to ask you, but at that moment, all he wanted was to be close to you, to hold you in his arms, and never let go. 
"I do," he said softly, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand. "But right now, all I want is to be with you. Is that okay?"
You smiled up at him, feeling your heart swell with affection. 
"It's more than okay," you said, leaning into him. "I want to be with you too."
Beomgyu's eyes sparkled with happiness at your words. He felt like he was on top of the world, with you by his side.
"Let's go for a walk," he said, taking your hand and leading you down the dirt path that ran alongside the lake.
You walked hand in hand, enjoying the quietness of the morning. Birds chirped overhead, and the sun began to rise, casting a golden glow over everything in sight. You felt the warmth of Beomgyu's hand in yours, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment.
As you walked, Beomgyu told you all about the research he had done on soulmates the night before. He had read countless books and articles, trying to understand the strange things he was experiencing. You listened intently, fascinated by the depth of his knowledge on the subject and by him in general. You answered any questions he had and told him all about your parents. You two realized the depth of your bond. You shared talents, he was the reason you could play guitar and you were the reason he could sing. The dreams, after you met Kai and he mentioned the two of you to each other vaguely, it was like a bridge. Every night since then, Beomgyu visited you in your dreams, where you got to learn about him. Now he knows why he would wake up feeling like he just came back from somewhere. The mark appeared on his arm the same day you woke up from having your first dream. The pen was because you were a songwriter and only him and his soulmate, you, could see it.
"So what do we do now?" you asked, stopping to take in the view of the lake. 
The water shimmered in the sunlight, reflecting the beauty of the world around you.
"I think we should just take it one day at a time," Beomgyu said, standing beside you.
"We don't need to rush anything. We have all the time in the world."
You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. You didn't want to rush anything either. You just wanted to enjoy this moment, to be with Beomgyu and feel the sparks between you.
As you walked along the lake, hand in hand, you knew that this was just the beginning of something special. You had found your soulmate, and you were going to do everything in your power to keep him close.
"Thank you for being here with me," you said softly, looking up at him. "I'm happy I found you."
Beomgyu's eyes softened, and he leaned down to place a soft kiss on your forehead. You felt the warmth of his lips, and your heart swelled with adoration.
"I'll always be here," he said, pulling you close. "No matter what. You're kind of stuck with me now," he added and both of you giggled softly. 
Your hand was still in his, and you didn't want to let go. You never wanted to let go. 
“You have a class you said?” you asked him.
He nodded. “ It’s the last thing on my mind though,” he said and gently nudged your shoulder. 
You blushed and giggled at him again, "Can I walk you to your class?" 
"Of course, you can," Beomgyu replied, smiling down at you. "I'd love that."
Together, you made your way to the music department, taking your time as you walked hand in hand. You couldn't help but feel happy and content, knowing that you had Beomgyu by your side.
 As you walked him to his class, he couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment. He knew that he was going to cherish every moment he had with you.
You reached Beomgyu's classroom after some time, and you stopped outside the door and turned to face him. 
"I'll see you soon," he said, before turning and entering the classroom.
You stood outside the door, watching as he disappeared inside. You couldn't help but feel excited about what the future held for the two of you. You knew that you were meant to be together, and you couldn't wait to see what adventures lay ahead. As you turned to leave, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned back to see Beomgyu standing in front of you, a small smile on his lips.
"I almost forgot something," he said,
You felt his hand on your back, bringing you closer to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he pulled you into a hug. It was innocent, just a hug, but you felt like you were floating on air. When you pulled back, Beomgyu placed a hand on your cheek, looking into your eyes.
"I'll see you soon," he said again, before turning to enter the classroom. You watched him go, feeling your heart flutter. You stood there for a few moments more, just taking in the moment before you finally turned and started walking home.
It had been a few months since that day, but the memory still stayed with you in your mind often. You and Beomgyu had grown so much closer over those months, learning more about each other every day. You both spent more time together - going for walks in the park, exploring new places, or just cuddling up under a blanket watching movies at his dorm. He was your best friend now, your other half, the love of your life and he made every day brighter. Every time you were together, it felt like magic – like all of your dreams were coming true. You both shared something special that could never be broken: your souls connected by music and love.
One day, as you sat in Beomgyu's dorm room, strumming his guitar while he sang along softly, you looked up at him and thought about how lucky you were to have found him. He was everything you had ever wanted in a person and more. You couldn't imagine your life without him. There was something you still haven't told him though. You were struggling to tell Beomgyu that you were Lyric, the songwriter his band was always praising. Every time he and the others talked about her, you could feel your heart flutter. You wanted to tell him but something held you back; all the songs you wrote for them had been about him or inspired by him and you wanted to tell him that was why he felt so understood. 
You took a deep breath, setting the guitar aside as you turned to face him. Beomgyu looked at you curiously, his eyes shining.
"What's going on?" he asked, sitting up slightly.
You took another deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. This was something you had been meaning to tell him for a while, but you had always chickened out at the last minute. But now, with him looking at you with so much love and trust, you knew that it was finally time to tell him the truth.
"Beomgyu," you started, your voice barely above a whisper. "There's something I need to tell you."
Beomgyu's gaze intensified, and he reached out to take your hand in his. You felt his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin, and you took that as a sign to continue.
“I’m Lyric,” you mumbled almost inaudibly. 
Beomgyu's eyes widened in surprise, and he sat up straighter, looking at you in awe.
"Lyric?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nodded, unable to meet his gaze. You could feel butterflies swirling in your stomach, and you wondered what Beomgyu was thinking. Would he be mad that you hadn't told him earlier? Would he be disappointed that it was you?
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked softly, his voice gentle.
You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. 
"I didn't know how to," you admitted. "I was afraid you'd be disappointed that it was me and not some princess with magic songwriting powers or something."
Beomgyu's expression softened, and he squeezed your hand.
"I think it's incredible. I think you're incredible. You have such a gift, and I can't believe you've been writing songs for me this whole time."
You blushed. "I entered the contest and had no idea what to write. Not until I had that first dream. All my songs were written and inspired by my soulmate, which I now know is you.." you trailed off, hiding your face behind your hands. 
Beomgyu chuckled, pulling your hands away from your face gently. "Why are you hiding? You have nothing to be ashamed of. I think it's amazing that you found inspiration in me, and I'm honored that you wrote those songs for our band. We couldn't have gotten this far now without you."
You looked up at him, feeling tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "I'm just so relieved that you're not mad," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Beomgyu leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I could never be mad at you, my love. You're the most amazing person I've ever met, and I feel so lucky to have you in my life."
"And for the record, you are a princess with magic songwriting powers," he added and you playfully pushed him. 
"And another thing, I wouldn't be who I am today without you either." He said while tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. 
You smiled, feeling your heart swell with love for the boy in front of you.
"I never thought I'd find someone like you," you said quietly, your eyes locked with his.
Beomgyu's lips curved into a smile. "Well, you've found me now, and I'm not going anywhere."
You leaned in to kiss him but were interrupted by a knock at the door. Beomgyu groaned in frustration, but you both knew he had to answer it. As he got up to go to the door, you couldn't help but feel a sense of frustration. You were finally about to kiss him, and now you had to wait. This was another thing, every time you and Beomgyu were going to kiss, something got in the way. Every single time.
Beomgyu opened the door, and in walked another member of his band - Kai. You smiled when he walked in, him being you and Beomgyu’s biggest shipper. You got up from the bed, clearing your throat to get his attention.
"Hi, Kai," you said sweetly.
"Hey," he replied animatedly, before turning to Beomgyu. "We've got a meeting with the label in an hour. We need to start getting ready."
Beomgyu sighed, knowing that he had to go. He turned to you, a look of apology on his face.
"I'm sorry, Y/N. I have to go," he said, his hand reaching out to grab yours.
You nodded, feeling a sense of disappointment wash over you. "It's okay, Beomie. You have to go do what you have to do." 
You got up from his bed and kissed him on the cheek, Kai holding his hand up for a high five which you granted. You said bye to Taehyun who was in the lounge area of their dorm and went back to your apartment. When you arrived at your apartment, you decided to take a hot shower to relax. Shower thoughts flooded your brain as you stood under the steamy water. You realize Beomgyu has never been to your apartment before, all the time you guys have spent with each other has either been at his dorm or out somewhere. 
The thought of Beomgyu coming to your apartment made you feel nervous and excited at the same time. You could imagine him sitting on your couch, the two of you cuddled up under a blanket, just like you always did at his dorm. However, here there would be no interruptions. But then again, what if he didn't like your apartment? 
You shook your head, trying to get rid of those negative thoughts. You knew Beomgyu wouldn't judge you like that, and even if he did, it wouldn't change how he felt about you. You dried yourself off and got dressed, feeling a sense of excitement building up inside you.
You decided to call Beomgyu to see if he was free to come over. He picked up after the first ring, and you could hear the sound of music playing in the background.
"Hey, Beomie," you greeted him, feeling a smile spread across your face. "Are you busy?"
Beomgyu chuckled on the other end of the line. "Just practicing with the band, why? What's up?"
"I was wondering if you wanted to come over to my place. Maybe tomorrow night? I know we've never hung out at my apartment before, and I thought it could be fun," you said, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice.
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and you could hear muffled talking in the background. Finally, Beomgyu spoke up.
"Yeah, I'd love to princess. You can give me a tour of your place and everything," he said, and you could practically hear the smirk on his face.
You felt your heart skip a beat. Beomgyu was actually coming over to your place. 
"I can practically hear you smirking, pretty boy. I'll see you tomorrow then."
Beomgyu chuckled. "Sorry, sorry. I just can't wait to see your place." His voice dropped down to a low murmur. "And maybe see what other surprises you have in store for me."
You felt your cheeks heat up at his words. "Beomie, don't be naughty," you scolded him, but you couldn't deny the thrill that ran down your spine at the thought of spending the night with him alone in your apartment.
"I can't make any promises," he replied, his voice low and sultry. "But I'll behave if you want me to."
You laughed, feeling your nerves calm down a little. "No, it's okay. I like it when you're naughty. Besides, you're still handsy even when you claim you're behaving."
Beomgyu chuckled, and you could hear the smile in his voice. "I can't help it. You bring out the naughty side in me," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper.
You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow then," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.
"I can't wait, princess," he replied, before ending the call.
The next day, you spent the day cleaning and preparing for Beomgyu's arrival. You wanted everything to be perfect for him.
When he finally arrived at your apartment, you couldn't help but feel nervous. He smiled as soon as you opened the door, making you feel at ease.
"Hey, princess," he said, pulling you into a tight hug. "You look beautiful."
You blushed, feeling a surge of happiness wash over you. "Thanks, Beomie. You look handsome as always," you replied.
"Wow, your apartment is amazing!" Beomgyu exclaimed, looking around in awe. "You never told me you had such good taste."
You giggled. “You don’t think it’s a bit..much?” 
"Not at all," Beomgyu replied, walking over to you and taking your hand. "It's just like you, beautiful and perfect."
You blushed and looked away, feeling a little embarrassed at his words.
Beomgyu chuckled and lifted your chin, looking into your eyes. "Don't be shy, (y/n). You should know by now how much I adore you."
You smiled at him, feeling the warmth of his love surrounding you. "I do, Beomie. I adore you just as much." 
"Why are you blushing? Is it cause we're finally alone with no interruptions?" he asked and playfully nudged you. 
You blushed even harder at his words, and you could feel your heart racing in your chest. You had been waiting for this moment, and now that it was finally here, you didn't know what to do. You nodded, feeling the butterflies in your stomach start to flutter. 
"Maybe," you said, a smile spreading across your face.
Beomgyu stepped closer to you, his arms wrapping around your waist. "Well, I have a surprise for you too," he whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.
You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words. "What is it?" you asked, turning to face him.
Beomgyu grinned at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He looked around the living room once more, “Why don’t you give me the tour of your place first?” He whispered and put his arm around you. You leaned into his touch, resting your cheek on his shoulder. 
“The music room is probably my favorite, I spend most of my time in there or on the balcony,” you said softly while tracing the veins along his free arm. You heard him let out a small sigh at the feeling of your touch.
“Then take me to the music room, princess. That’s where the magic happens right?” He said, lips turning upward into a smirk.
“Okay, Beomie.” You took his hand in yours and gently pulled him along, leading him to where the music room is. You led him down a hallway, stopping at one of many doors. You opened it, the familiar squeak of the hinges filling your senses with joy and you smiled up at him proudly. He stepped inside and took a look around the room you practically lived in, carefully examining each instrument on display with awe. Your heart pounded as he walked by every instrument in the room, this room was like your pride and joy. You hoped he was impressed by it. 
As Beomgyu continued to look around the music room, you couldn't help but feel proud of yourself. You had worked hard to make this space your own, and it was clear that Beomgyu was impressed. You watched as he picked up your guitar, strumming a few chords before setting it back down.
"You're so talented, (y/n)," Beomgyu said, turning to face you and leaning against one of the walls. 
"I had no idea you could play so many instruments. You're amazing."
You felt a warm blush spread across your cheeks at his compliments. 
He pushed himself off from against the wall and took a seat on one of the cushioned benches, motioning for you to come over. You obliged and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you to sit in his lap. 
“Now can I listen to the songs you've been working on for the band? Or are you still trying to be sneaky and keep it hidden from me?” 
“Mm, it's not finished though.” You said and wrapped your arms around his neck after being pulled into his lap.
He tightened his hold on your hips and smiled at you. “Well, I’d still rather listen to an unfinished song than nothing at all. Or are you just hiding something from me?” his smile turned into a small smirk. 
“And why would I hide anything from you, Beomie?” You whispered softly and looked up to meet his eyes. 
He leaned down slightly, his mouth coming close to your ear, “Maybe cause you want me to beg a little…” He whispered and let his lips linger by your neck for a little before pulling away. 
“And maybe, just maybe…” he started again, taking his hand and tracing the curve of your neck. 
“You think it's cute? Watching me beg..” 
“And why would I make you beg me? Hm?” Your voice stayed in a whisper, and you cupped one of his cheeks. 
He looked you in the eyes and grinned. 
“Why would you make me beg, you ask? I don’t know… you know how I feel about you-“ he paused when he felt your hand touch his cheek. 
“But who knows what you can get out of me.” He smirked and leaned down to kiss your cheek.
 “Maybe you can make me beg for a kiss… or a little more.”  
The touch of his lips to your cheek was enough to light your whole body on fire.  
You shuddered lightly and moved his hair away from his face. “And what kind of person would I be if I made my soulmate beg, hm?” You asked softly. 
He felt a blush creep onto his cheeks as you lightly brushed his hair out of his face. This time, you leaned forward and lightly touched your lips to the corner of his. Not kissing him properly yet. 
He let out a soft gasp and you watched as his lips parted slightly in shock, not expecting you to lean in. His breath got caught in his throat and he kept his gaze locked onto yours. His hands moved down from your hips to your thighs, fingers lightly digging into them, the heat of the moment getting to both of you right now. 
“Beom?” You whispered, eyes flicking down to his lips. 
His heart skips a beat at the soft sound of your voice.  
“Yes (y/n)?” He whispered back, face now flushed and his eyes trailed downward, gaze now glued onto your lips too. 
“Kiss me, please.” 
He stared at you for a second, processing what you just asked. The slight shock wearing off was replaced by desirousness, and he grinned.
“With pleasure, princess.”
He leaned in while pulling you closer to him and connected your lips, finally. His eyes closed right before your lips touched, his heart hammering against his chest. The moment the gap closed between you, your eyes fluttered closed, already lost in the moment. Your arms around his neck pulled him closer, as close as he could get to you.  You felt his hands trail up and down your sides, settling on your thighs once again. Your lips parted slightly, you taking the opportunity to gently bite his lower lip, bringing them back together with yours, not wanting this to end just yet. 
Beomgyu's lips were soft but demanding, and they made your heart race. You felt the heat between you grow as you allowed yourself to get lost in the moment. His tongue grazed your bottom lip, asking for permission to deepen the kiss. You granted it, allowing him to explore your mouth until you both needed to come up for air. He pulled away from you, but only enough to look into your eyes. Your faces were so close that you could feel his breath on your lips. You felt his fingers trailing up and down your thighs and his grip on them tightening.
 “God, I want you (y/n),” he breathed out. 
  You leaned in and kissed him again, this time with more urgency. You could feel his reaction instantly as he groaned into the kiss and his grip on your thighs tightened even more. You moved your hands from around his neck to run them through his hair, tugging lightly as he deepened the kiss even more. It wasn't long before the heat between you both became unbearable and you broke the kiss, feeling breathless. You looked at each other for a moment, both of you panting slightly. 
“I want you too,” you whispered, cupping his cheek with one hand while the other trailed down his chest.
Beomgyu took in a sharp breath as your hand continued to trail down his chest. His heart sped up and his mouth hung slightly open.
“Let's take this to your room," He whispered. 
You nodded quickly and told him your room was the last door to the right. He lifted you up in his arms and stood up from the bench, moving quickly out of the music room with you cradled safely in his arms. Once you were both in your room, he gently laid you down on the bed. You looked up at him as he hovered above you, the desire in his eyes captivating yours and making your heart race even faster. 
“Are you ready for my surprise now?” He asked, his voice soft and full of want.
You nodded at him quickly and wrapped your arms around his neck. He leaned down and gave you a light kiss. He slowly trailed down your jaw and reached the sensitive spot behind your ear. His breath tickled and sent shivers down your spine.
You lay next to him, slightly out of breath after what just happened, and felt him press a kiss to your cheek. 
“Surprise,” he said teasingly.
You rolled your eyes but giggled softly and your heart skipped a beat as you looked at him. You sat up and picked up the shirt he was wearing earlier, slipping it over your head, the scent of him now enveloping all your senses. 
"Was that really your surprise?" you asked him shyly. 
Beomgyu had moved his head to rest on the pillow, facing you sideways, and propped up on his elbow.
He laughed at your shared bashfulness despite what you just did together, and kissed your forehead, “it was,”
He blushed and looked away from you for a quick moment, not used to this level of affection and intimacy. He looked back at you when you rested your head on your own pillow.
 “This is my favorite thing to do,” he whispered, laying down properly and pulling you to his chest.
“Spending the day with you.” 
Your heart sped up, from what he said, but also from the way you were currently pressed against him with your head resting against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around your waist to hold you close. 
“I can hear your heartbeat,” you murmured, your eyes closing more with every word. 
He smiled lovingly at you.
“Yeah? What does it sound like?” 
“Like mine.”
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Main Masterlist
Beomgyu Masterlist
a/n: and that’s the end! I absolutely adore soulmate aus and Beomgyu, and I’ve always wanted to try and write one of my own. I hope you enjoyed it, comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3
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heresan · 8 months
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Reincarnation AU with Neuvillette where he once had a true love hundreds of years ago who absolutely loved to sing. What's left of you now is a music box he had specially made of the melody you used to hum endlessly. He reaches for it when he wants to go back to when you both shared a time together, when his sorrows consumes him and sheets of silver pelts across Fontaine, when his manor feels a touch too empty and too quiet and the closest thing to you being here is this music box.
You being from Liyue origin have traveled a long way to share your talent on the opera stage in Fontaine, and you wouldn't know how to cope had you missed such an amazing opportunity. And so, the moment you're center stage and the spotlight hits you, Neuvillette feels his breath get caught in his throat. When you unintentionally lock eyes with him in the front seat as you perform the most stunningly beautiful rendition, his heart reaffirms that it's you一the one he earnestly vowed to love so many years ago.
Neuvillette decides that he'll have to win your heart again no matter how long it takes. He never thought he'd be given another chance to fall in love with the same person twice, and it’d be foolish of him to continue onwards without you by his side when you’re the only one he truly dreams about since three lifetimes ago.
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valorantized · 2 months
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take a risk • choso x fem! reader
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[take a risk] ★🎸⋆。 °⋆
enjoy the journey as you make your way to the top as a solo music artist - suddenly your favorite artist texts you, will you accept this once in a lifetime offer?
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• choso x fem! reader
• band/gamer au | leaning more towards band au |
• note: this is my first smau!! needless to say im nervous but super excited, also reader is portrayed for style purposes pls imagine her however you would like ᵕ̈
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SOCIALS
⤷ y/n & roommates
⤷ alura
-
ONE - 1 million
TWO - night out
THREE - bar
FOUR - perform
FIVE - angel
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cryinginmyroomsposts · 9 months
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Dancing With Our Hands Tied
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pairing: Hyunjin x fem!reader
tags: angst, fluff in ending, dancer Hyunjin, non-idol!au, college au, swearing
summary: Being in the coveted dance team of the university was no small feat. After being in the team for a whole year, you find yourself about to participate in a prestigious inter-college competition for Duet performance with none other than the college IT boy and dance team captain- Hyunjin. You'd spent one year suppressing your big fat crush on the charming boy, but now that you find yourself dancing in his arms, he just might paint you golden.
wordcount: 6.4k
Note: This can be read as a one-shot but I was kind of expanding on the universe from the Lee Know oneshot Mr Gorgeous.
masterlist
Let me know your thoughts and feedback.
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It was a nice Sunday morning and like every college student, all you wanted to do was sleep in. But unlike every student, you’re part of the university dance team. From the outside looking in, it was the most glamorous group to be a part of. Being a part of the team inherently gave you the highest social status on campus. You got special exemptions from certain tests and even privileges for missing mandatory events.
Little did they know that all the shine comes with a mountain of hard work. Getting into the dance team itself was a major task lasting 5 entire rounds of selections in multiple genres, solo and group showcase. And once you make it, there is no room for complacency. The team did at least three performances a month- in-house and external. So the only constant in your lives was practice sessions, assignments and sleepless nights.
For being the most desired group on campus, the dance team never got the time to do any of the popular kid things, apart from the validation itself. Except for the dance team co-captain, of course. Hwang Hyunjin will not let busy schedules and tiring practices stop him from being the campus IT boy. Nobody, literally nobody, is privy to his charms.
Including you.
Despite a lifetime of training in dance, the primary reason you tried out for the dance team was Hyunjin. You still remember the goosebumps on your skin and the way your jaw was on the floor the entire time he was on stage. On the day of your freshman orientation a year ago, you had joined hundreds gathered in the amphitheatre to see the dance team perform. The then sophomore, Hyunjin along with his friend Lino (Lee Minho), had been the stars of the show. The entire team, including the charming ex-captain- Chris, were immaculate. The performance was so power-packed mixed with equal parts grace and emotions. While the boys had done a hip-hop rendition, the girls had taken a contemporary approach. The two eventually collided to meet in the modern-pop genre for the finale. You decided then to join the dance team, so you did a few months later.
Although you should’ve decided against harbouring a huge crush on said It-boy. In the first two shows after making the team, you were nothing but a blubbering mess. It took all of your conscious energy to not stammer every time he so much as looked at you. Ultimately, you mellowed down, or maybe the reality of seeing Hyunjin woo more than half the campus with his charms and leave a trail of broken hearts got to you.
You still respected him as a dancer, it’s hard not to when he oozes power, grace and sometimes the literal demon while dancing. His on-stage persona was almost entirely different from the idiot who runs around pissing off his Co-captain Minho, or constantly trying to borderline harass the newest and youngest addition to the team- Jeongin.
Your phone alarm starts ringing bringing you back to reality- Sunday morning rehearsal. You silence it before it disturbs your roommates’ precious sleep. Trying your best to tiptoe your way around the dorm room, getting ready and after grabbing a granola bar from your desk, you make your way to the practice room.
On the way you meet your favourite person on the team- Felix (truth be told he’s everyone’s favourite).
“Hii Y/n.” He waves furiously giggling as he walks up to you.
“Hi Felix” you giggle back, simply because it’s impossible not to get affected by his infectious joy.
“How are you so cheerful at 6:30 AM?” You ask as he gives you a side hug. He just shrugs and skips alongside you to the practice room. You let out a little laugh at the little ball of sunshine that is Felix as he starts animatedly telling you random stories.
The practice room is in shambles. You and Felix exchange a flabbergasted look at each other and look around the room again. Everyone is crowded in the centre and talking over one another.
“Y/N! Come here. Fast.” You hear your Sumi, your teammate, call from somewhere amidst the chaos. When the team starts noticing you enter the room, they fall silent. They move back from crowding in the centre and you realise all eyes are switching between you and Sumi who is holding a paper in her hands.
“What’s going on?”
Sumi gulps and hands over the paper to you.
Inter-College Dance Competition Category: Duet Participants: Hyunjin and Y/N
Shit. Holy shit.
“Morning guys.”
The voice startled you. You whip your head to see Hyunjin enter the room, his duffel bag on his shoulder, clothes crumpled, and hair in a messy bun. Yet he looked ethereal.
He looks at you and smiles. “Oh Y/n, you’ve heard the news. Good, we can get down to the details then.”
Details? What details? Oh, right dance.
“Uh-huh. Yeah. Sure.” You finally manage with a nod.
“Alright guys let's start, we’ll do a couple run-throughs till noon, take a break and convene here at 4:30pm to get ready for the show. Finally, we go up there and rock the crowd. Sound like a plan?”
Everyone cheers and you nod, still processing the fact that you had been chosen to dance a duet with Hyunjin. Not just any performance but the biggest inter-college competition in the state. With Hyunjin. A duet. You. And Hyunjin. Good god it’s going to be a ride.
The team goes into a practised routine of rehearsals, chaos, more rehearsals and even more chaos.
At 1 PM you’re glad you can finally rest for a few hours before the performance. The evening rolls in, and you head to the green room. One by one, the girls start getting ready and the green room is already chaotic but becomes a full-blown circus once the boys crowd in.
From your place, you watch as Hyunjin hugs Jeongin so tight that the poor junior looks like he could die. Lino is sitting in his favourite corner (he has one everywhere he goes), cuddled up with his girlfriend- man has been the biggest simp since they got together a month ago. Felix is going around giving everyone motivation and cheering them up- typical Felix. He hugs you so tight and warm, you can feel the nerves physically leave you. Then there’s Yeji and Lia, discussing choreo parts with Sumi and others. The air in here is infectious, everyone is equal parts excited and nervous.
The performance goes by in a whizz, the adrenaline rushing through your entire body as you stand on stage witnessing your friends, classmates, seniors and juniors in the crowds enjoying the performance.
You feel alive.
Afterwards, you change out of the costume into your sweats and meet all your classmates who had come backstage to support you. The gratitude that fills your chest leaves you emotional.
You give Jeongin a tight hug, congratulating him on his official performance as part of the team. Even if he hates the hug, he gracefully accepts it and smiles wide. You were very entirely endeared by his cuteness- everyone was. Specifically his super fan Hyunjin.
Think of the devil and watch as he walks to where you and Jeongin are. Even though you squished down your tiny crush, you've always felt nervous around him- simply because he is Hwang Hyunjin. Now the impending performance and the sheer idea of having to spend weeks practising with Hyunjin- one on one, is doing no help to your nerves.
"Jeonginahhhhh," he squeals and you step back as he hugs the younger member. Jeongin tries his best to smile and endure it but fails, making you crack up.
"Hi Y/N," Hyunjin says, finally letting the younger one go free finally and turning to you.
"Hey, Hyunjin. Amazing performance." You manage to say, trying to keep your nerves at bay.
"Thanks. You did well too." He flashes his smile, his fringe falling to his face and his eye twinkling as his cheeks light up.
There goes any attempt of calming your nerves.
Hyunjin continues to shower Jeongin with compliments, rightfully so, and you watch how he looks carefree and young as the latter is glowing in pride and embarrassment.
Right as you turn to take your leave, Hyujin calls your name.
"Yeah?"
"We need to discuss the performance, when can we meet about that?"
The frown on your face turns up before you realise it and he laughs.
"I get it. I need a break too. Maybe we can meet on Friday evening?"
"Yeah, sure. That works for me."
"It's a date."
A what?
But before you can mull over what he meant, your friends drag you out of the green room to celebrate. You were glad for the welcome distraction. Especially watching Seungmin and Yumi constantly fight over everything as you and Jisung sit there laughing at their antics.
----------
"Y/n, You can do this! It is just dancing. You've been doing this your whole life. Well, not dancing with Hyunjin, but the semantics don't matter. You can still do this. It is just called a duet, maybe the two of you will not even be on stage at the same time. Hyunjin is a busy guy, he might just ask you to do your own choreo for your part. Y/n, I know you're gonna sla-"
"Y/n, I will MURDER you if you don't get out of the bathroom right fucking now."
Yumi's voice breaks you out of the pep-talk you were giving yourself in the bathroom mirror. You give yourself one final thumbs up and head out to see a fuming Yumi standing on the other side.
She grunts like a wounded dog and you giggle as you hug her in apology.
"Sorry. Anyways, I'm heading out now. Haffun." You pick up your bags and start walking toward the dorm room door.
"I will. All the best for your meeting. And Y/n?" You hum looking at her.
"It'll be alright, don't stress out too much." You nod appreciatively and wave as you head out.
The whole way to the practice room, you keep repeating the pep-talk to yourself. You've spent a good amount of time in the last four days telling yourself that the date comment is just a habit for the pro-charmer Hyunjin and it means nothing. You might've also spent a good few hours warning yourself not to develop any embarrassing feelings for him.
When you enter the practice room, you see Hyunjin, Yeji and Minho sitting in a corner discussing something. As the only seniors in the group, they make all the logistical and creative decisions for the team. Minho spots you first, smiling politely and Yeji follows suit. Hyunjin nods in your direction as the three of them start to pack up.
Yeji and Minho make small talk with you before leaving and you're left alone with Hyunjin. He sits down in the centre of the room, in front of the full-length mirror, and ties his shoes as you walk toward him. He's in his usual sweats and hair tied in a half-up bun.
"Hi." You mutter as you sit down next to him.
"Hello. Had a nice break?" He smiles and you nod.
"Yeah, slept like a pig. What about you?"
"Meh, I mean I got a break from the dancing but still... senior year you know. I'm just perpetually tired." He does look tired and you nod sympathetically.
"Well, I'm sure you'll fare better than me as a senior next year." He says with a smile, sounding sincere and it takes everything in you not to blush.
So much for no embarrassing feelings.
"Oh, sure. Don't downplay your achievements. No one could lead this team the way you do." You were speaking the facts but seeing him smile wide and bright made your stomach flip.
"Aye you don't need to butter me up anymore, you got the part in the biggest competition now."
"Hey, I wasn't trying to butter you up." You feign mock offence.
"Okay, I believe you. Anyway, let's start with the concept."
Please say anything except sexy or love.
"So the concept is love- more like finding your way back to love. So I thought we would do something where estranged exes find their way back to each other kind of."
Big time fuck.
You nod and smile as you process his words and what this might mean for said embarrassing feelings (which you will not harbour). You decide to be a professional and only focus on dancing.
"Yeah, that sounds cool. Do you have any choreo already planned?"
"Yeah." He pulls up his laptop from his bag and shows a video. Hyunjin and Yeji are dancing in the video, the dance is… touchy to say the least. You refuse to acknowledge the churning in your stomach as you see the two of them dance closely.
The dance is split into three parts- starting with solos expressing the regret and anger that both parties have, proceeding to a mirroring sequence where their anguish aligns and finally, the slow dance symbolising the happy ending.
Once the dance ends you stare at the blank screen for a minute before turning to see that Hyunjin is expectantly staring at you.
“So?” He asks with raised eyebrows and a small smile playing on his lips.
“Umm it’s amazing. As usual.” He smiles and waves away the compliment.
“I have one doubt though, why didn’t Yeji and you perform this?” Your voice comes out low and quiet. A part of you hopes your question doesn't make him rethink and choose Yeji instead- for dance, of course.
He shakes his head sidewise, a shy smile on his face. "It didn't feel right."
"Oh."
"Alright, so I can start teaching you the common parts and we can modify according to our needs as we go. I'll leave the solo to you. Okay?"
"Yeah cool."
Lord knows how this is going to end.
----------
"Hyunjin, let's do this once more and then we'll move on to the next part." You reprimand a whining Hyunjin, lying face-first on the practice room floor. It's the fourth day of practice sessions and both of you are running out of fuel quickly.
"Y/n, you're doing good. Let's just take a break and start with the slow dance part." He whines turning to face you with a pout.
You want to give in to his antics but you hold your stand. Partly because it is a mirroring dance and you desperately want to be completely in sync with Hyunjin (the man dances like he is the god of dance). Another part because you wanted to delay the thought of starting the next section of the performance because the thought of being close to Hyunjin and doing the slow-contemporary dance section made your legs turn to slime.
"No. I just want to perfect this. Just onceeee. Then we can take a break, and start the- the other part." You flash him your best puppy-dog face and he sighs as he gets up from the floor.
"Alright let's do this but I don't know what you are worrying about, you're perfect already."
Cue embarrassing butterflies and feelings you definitely do not feel.
And like clockwork, the two of you start moving according to the beat. You had watched Hyunjin's every minuscule movement and so had he. Now you are in so much sync that the perfectionist in both of you is almost entirely satiated.
"Okay... that was brilliant Y/n. Please let's take a break and start learning the next part." He says taking deep breaths and chugging water. You can barely nod as you catch your breath.
The next hour is spent eating the dinner you ordered a while back, reviewing the latest run and the choreography video.
"What are you thinking for the solo part?" He asks between bites and you have to admit he looks cute with his cheeks filled as he chews and frowns as he enjoys the food.
"I'm thinking of sticking to my roots- just contemporary."
"Oh that's good. You're good at contemporary."
"I- Thanks." He smiles.
"You should do something similar to your audition performance."
You nod involuntarily and then his words sink in. "You remember that?"
"Yeah, I do. It was an amazing performance Y/N. I'm sure everyone remembers it." You scoff and he raises an eyebrow.
"Minho asked me if I am new, last month."
He laughs. "No no, that's just his messed up humour sense. But anyways, I speak for myself when I say it's hard to forget such a good performance. And you."
You end up swallowing a big bite of your burger and start to choke as he just smiles and hands you the water bottle. Before you can say anything, he is up for the next part.
It starts fine, the two of you slowly moving toward each other with each step- from mirroring each other to reaching out. Then comes the trickier part. It starts with your hands brushing, the two of you circling around the other, looking into each other. Obviously, you look anywhere but his face. Because staring into those eyes will not do anything good for you. He doesn't say anything if he notices the little flinches or lack of eye contact.
The two of you keep practising the moves over and over until both of you are satisfied with the flow. Now it is becoming increasingly hard for you to focus on these details. Especially considering how your heart is beating in your ears with every step the two of you take.
He needs to hold your hand and move it in a curve while his other hand is on your hip. And it gets worse, as the following step requires you to turn and face him, your hands on his neck, his on your hips as you bend away and come back to his embrace. He suggests going over each movement slowly and it worsens your plight. You hear his voice from a distance as you do your best not to stare at his lips that are inches away. You can see that he is saying something and you find yourself nodding along. You do the step according to his counts and return to his embrace.
This is when you do the mistake of looking up at his face, he is staring down at you too. You see the black fringes that have escaped the bun, sticking to the corners of his face. His forehead is lined with beads of sweat, thin darkened eyes, and plump lips slightly apart. The clock ticks somewhere but neither of you seems to realise, until eventually, you snap back into sense- the inherent panic of feelings stirring in your stomach.
You step back and look at your feet, he stays still and starts fidgeting with his hands.
"I- Um... It's almost 10. I- I should head back." You stammer, slowly looking at him. He looks at you for a second and nods. You nod and start collecting your things.
"Do you want me to walk you back?" And thud goes your water bottle, slipping from your hands- entirely due to your clumsiness and nothing to do with butterflies, of course.
"Uh no not necessary. It's just a 5 min walk." You hope he looks disappointed but hope is a dangerous game for a fool trying to live in denial.
"Ok. Bye." He turns to his bag before you can say your bye and that's that.
------
"Two days. That's all we have for the performance! And this is when Hyunjin decides he can just go galivanting about and not show up to practice." You groan to yourself, standing in front of the full-length mirror in the practice room.
The last two weeks of practice have been a lot less eventful compared to the first. After the first day of doing the slow dance, things shifted between Hyunjin and you. Both of you became more distant and closer, at the same time. Some days you bickered like childhood besties, and on others, both of you walked around each other on eggshells. He often showed up to morning practice with crumpled clothes and messed up hair and your heart would drop to your stomach realising he must've spent the night with someone else. You would immediately reprimand yourself for making assumptions just to get your feelings in check.
And yet here you were, mind running in a million different directions as you figure he could be with anybody right now, while you sit in the musty old practice room at 7pm on a Saturday evening. These thoughts never helped, so you resort to your comfort zone- dancing.
And for the third time that evening, you go over your solo part and the rest of the dance. You are tired of dancing the same things so you start freestyling to your favourite tracks. Dancing always made you feel good, especially when you poured all your emotions out through your body. You lost yourself to the song, letting the beat and your body carry you away.
That's how you fail to notice Hyunjin's arrival until you get startled by the loud claps coming from the door. You whip your head around to see him standing with his go-to sweatshirt, duffel bag and hair in a bun. He is smiling wide, the kind that made his eyes small and cheeks full.
"Y/N, that was sooo goood. I've never seen you move like that till now. That was amazing, really!"
This boy made it so hard to live in denial with his charm, kind words and that smile. And that's why you can do nothing but smile and giggle like a little girl as you mutter a small thanks.
"Sorry, I got caught up in work. Have you been waiting long?" You watch as he puts his bag down and starts stretching and you see that his sweatshirt is inside out, and his hair is messier than you've ever seen. Here's the thing about this boy- he goes around breaking hearts without intending to. And here's the thing about unrequited crushes- you become somewhat of an Agatha Christie, just connecting all the randomest dots just to make up reasons to let your heart down again, it's almost a masochistic need. Logically, you knew better than to assume messy clothes meant anything of significance. But as a woman on a mission to prevent herself from falling deeper, you would grip onto anything that provides an anchor for your heart- even if it means you end up breaking your heart anyway.
And which is why you blurt out, "Why do you care if I wait... I'm sure you have better people to attend to anyway."
The piercing tone of your voice makes Hyunjin stop in his tracks and look at you through the mirror. The room is dead silent as you pick apart the skin in your cuticles in an attempt to keep the tears from falling and your heart from breaking further. Maybe it was the exhaustion, the all too familiar feeling of heartache that comes with unrequited love, but the shell you had so carefully maintained had come crashing down.
"Wha- What are you saying?" His voice comes soft and nervous. You do the mistake of looking up, through the mirror. You scoff and swallow the tears back, "No, nothing. I just- forget it. Let's practice."
"Are you sure? You just said something abou-"
"Can we just practice once and get over with this. I'm exhausted." You snap.
He just nods and proceeds to start the music. You don't look at him, not even during the mirroring sequence, he huffs a little too loudly at that. The run-through itself goes smoothly, until the last sequence. It's hard to do a romantic slow dance when you refuse to meet his eyes and keep flinching every time he touches you. Still, both of you push through. You get out of his clutches the second the song ends and start to pack your things.
"Y/N, why are you already packing?"
This boy makes it very hard not to get unreasonably angry at him because he doesn't let you hate him.
"It's almost 9 pm Hyunijn. I have been here since 6, I'm tired." He just nods and stays silent. You gather your things, throw your bag on your shoulder and leave. If he realises that this is the first time in two weeks you didn't wave or say bye enthusiastically like you usually do, he doesn't show it. If he realises that this is the first time in two weeks that he hasn't asked to walk you back to your dorm and you refused the offer like you usually do, he doesn't show it. The walk back to the dorm feels a lot heavier for the first time.
The next day is nothing short of a struggle, your eyes burning due to the incessant crying from the previous night, mind spinning everywhere and body weak. You were ashamed to have let your feelings mess you up so bad. Usually, you'd be extra careful to eat more and rest well during practice and performance times. This is probably the first time that you show up to the dress rehearsal with big bags beneath your eyes and feeling like a mess. It's not your first unrequited heartbreak, just the first time it feels this heavy and lonely.
The rehearsal is sullen- neither you nor Hyunjin makes any effort to talk. The tension in the air gets to the audiences for the day- Minho, Felix and Yeji. They exchange looks and try their best to engage both of you in some kind of conversation- it doesn't work. You put on the outfit and it makes you look decent despite your haggard state. The salt in the wound is how gorgeous Hyunjin looks in his outfit- not surprising, but still annoying considering he walked in looking downright homeless and sleep-deprived. The outfit doesn't hide the state of his face, yet he looks gorgeous. A week earlier both of you had been so excited to see the outfits, you even had hopes of Hyunjin finally seeing what is in front of his eyes. Yeah, stupid embarrassing feelings.
There are two full run-throughs, and the emotions until the last part is so enthralling to the audience. The three watching can see the tension flash as the two of you do your best to avoid each other's eyes and finish the dance. They don't press much, you're thankful for that. Getting out of the outfit, ready to head back to the dorm, you step out of the door only to find Hyunjin standing there- back in his oversized sweatshirt, messy hair and sullen expression. He always looked a lot younger and innocent when he wasn't performing, and you liked that about him- until now.
"Y/N, can I walk you to your dorm?" His voice quivers and he looks like an actual wounded puppy.
"Not needed." You avoid his gaze to evade giving in and walk away before he can retaliate. You always refused his offer knowing it was just another steep step right into disaster- as if the one already caused wasn't enough. You've also seen him pull the same gentlemanly moves with girls and boys across the campus and watch the poor suckers fall for him only to get burnt. Even after trying your best, you got burnt, you didn't need more reason.
------
"Y/N, can we just talk once before going on stage please," Hyunjin begs from the driver's seat. He is driving the two of you to the competition and the minute you sit down he says this.
"Let's just go. I have a headache." It wasn't a lie, but it felt bad rejecting him that way. The rest of the drive is silent, save for the faint music coming from the radio- which was annoyingly filled with love songs. After an hour's drive, you both arrive at the location. the entire place is filled with students from multiple universities across the state, all excited and dressed up, except for the two of you. You hate yourself for making this hard for both of you, especially when he did nothing actually wrong.
Stupid feelings.
"Stop fidgeting with your nails." Hyunjin snaps at you. He is sitting next to you in the green room- looking ethereal with makeup and costume on.
"I'm trying." You grunt back. There are ten minutes left for the performance and both of you are getting increasingly agitated.
"I'll help," is all he says before taking your hand in his and caging it there as looks toward the side of the stage. You try to protest but he clutches your hand pretty firmly.
"I won't burn you, stop squirming." His words effectively shut you up. You try to numb the feelings arising from his touch. You almost manage to do it until you realise he is rubbing circles around your palm. You're simultaneously calming down and getting more worked up. But he does manage to distract you till it's go-time. He gives you a small genuine smile and you nod, almost letting the tears fall. His face deflates but he immediately collects himself and goes into performance mode.
The music begins, you look out into the crowd, the nerves turn to excitement, and you feel alive. Hyunjin's solo leaves the crowd in awe. The audience goes wild during the mirroring sequence. But all the sound starts draining out as you move closer to him. You look at him, he looks at you, and your hands intertwine. The both of you move according to the beat- the only thing that exists right now is the music, Hyunjin and you. For the next minute he's yours and you're his. No one needs to know, the world could divide you later but for now, this was your sacred oasis.
A tear rolls down your cheek, and he reaches to brush it off in sync with the beat. His eyes sparkle, and there are a million emotions behind them. You want to hold on, you want to dance with him as long as you can. Both of you are in the tightest embrace you've ever been in, with shallow breaths, wet eyes and a big lump in your throat. The applause makes you break and look at the audience.
Neither of you speaks as you wait backstage for the last performance. You look everywhere but at him, trying to be as discreet as possible while rubbing the tears off your face. Eventually, all contestants are called up on stage. Hyunjin and you stand shoulder to shoulder, his palm brushing against yours but never reaching to hold on. The third and second places have been announced, the room is pulsing with tension and yet all you can think about is the man on your right.
You faintly hear your name, along with Hyunjin's, and it takes two seconds to realize that you've won the competition. What should've been the highest of highs of your life feels anti-climatic. You look up at him, both of you are smiling wide with teary eyes. You bear tears of fear and heartache, while he is probably teary-eyed on achieving this prestigious prize. The two of you collect the prize, congratulate fellow participants, and socialise with the other people there with practised smiles.
After an exhausting hour, the two of you are back in Hyunjin's car, still in outfits and makeup. He drives silently and you close your eyes fearing the tears will fall down otherwise. The car halts a while later as you've reached the campus. Both of you collect your things, take the cup and medal you won to the practice room and change out of the costumes.
Just as you turn to leave the room and head back to the dorms, he stops you with a hand on his wrist. You turn to question him but he doesn't look at you. He's locking the door with one hand as he holds on to you with the other. You roll your eyes.
"Hyunjin let me go."
He turns, now done with the lock, and starts walking forward as he drags you with him.
"Let me go, Hyunjin. I'm serious." He keeps walking, and you follow, until you've reached a room that looks like a storage room. He stops in front of the door and still doesn't let go of your hand. You're too confused to say anything although your head is buzzing with a million questions.
"When someone asks to walk you back, you should let them."
"Huh?" He turns to look at you, eyes dark and serious. He hasn't taken his makeup yet and he looks positively dangerous if not enthralling.
"I said, stop refusing when I ask to walk you back." His words are sharp and his voice is low.
"Why? What does that change?" The sting in your eye returns, you can't bare to look at him so you turn away.
But he holds your chin in his palm, the one that isn't holding your hand, and turns you to face him. "Y/N, I don't understand what I did wrong. Just please tell me, I'll do anything to make you happy."
"Why? Why do you want to make me happy? So that you can break my heart like you break everyone else's?" He looks shocked and the tears are now flowing desperately from your eyes.
"What are you even saying?"
"Hyunjin stop pretending... everyone knows that you just charm people and sleep around. Actually, it's not even your fault. I'm the idiot who knew all this and still let myself fall for you." You can feel your heart disintegrate and sincerely wish he'd let you go so that you can go hide in the comfort of your bed.
"What the fuck Y/N? Just 'cuz people say something doesn't make it true. I don't just go around flirting and sleeping with people." He's angry and you can hear it. You know he has the right to be but can't help your emotions. He is still holding your hand despite his anger, you note.
"Then where do you disappear off to every night? And why do you always show up in dishevelled clothes and messed up hair?" You sound stupid, now that the words are out of your mouth, but then no fool in love ever remains sane.
He sighs and throws his head back in frustration.
"You idiot. That- that's not because I'm fucking someone every night. It's- I go to.."
"To what Hyunjin?" Your patience is running low and he looks nervous.
He sighs. Letting your hand go, he opens the door to the storage room and turns the light on. It is an art studio, filled with paintings upon paintings. You turn to Hyunjin, more confused than before.
"This is my makeshift studio. A gallery owner has signed me on as the artist for their upcoming exhibition. I'm trying to get stuff done for that. It's next week. That's why I am always late to practice and why I look 'dishevelled'." He says quietly, with air quotes and a desperate tone in his voice.
"What?" To say you're surprised would be an understatement. You know he is an art major and that he paints, but all of this is new information. You look around the room once more, there are various kinds of paintings- places, flowers and even people.
"Yeah. I've been trying to show you my work for weeks now, that's why I keep asking to walk you back. I have always wanted to show you my work but didn't get the courage to talk to you personally till the practice." He looks nervous and his mouth forms into a pout. You just let out a laugh as more tears roll down your cheeks at the relief. "Why are you still crying?" He asks slowly as he wipes the tears away and you just laugh.
"So... you're not with someone else?"
He smiles now and shakes his head. "But I want to be..." Your eyes widen and the lump in your throat that was finally starting to dissolve comes back in full force. Seeing your face he starts to laugh.
He faces you, letting go of your hand to hold your face in both of his hands and leaning toward you. Your heart is beating in your chest.
"Dummy, it is you I like. Don't know how or when, but yeah..."
It appears that the act of having someone reciprocate our feelings can be perceived as rather endearing rather than embarrassing.
"Can I kiss you?" He asks slowly, his voice dangerously low.
"How are you so sure I like you back?"
He smirks at you and rolls his tongue in his inner cheek.
"Hmm... let's see how. You just acted like a crazy idiot for a week and told me it is because you thought I was fucking other people." Your face burns up in embarrassment as his smirk turns into a full smile. "Also, you get so extremely flustered every time I come close to you and your face is all red and cute, just like right now."
You close your eyes shut tight at his words, ready to combust.
"I didn't do a good job keeping my crush in control at all huh." You manage to say, slowly opening your eyes to see him smiling brightly.
"Absolutely not." The both of you laugh, he pulls your face closer and you hold onto his waist for balance. The lump of anxiety in your throat has turned into a plethora of butterflies.
"So can I kiss you or do you just want to keep staring at my lips like you do every time we dance."
"Oh shut up, Hyunjin."
He laughs and leans in but pulls back at the last minute. You let out a whine in protest.
"I- I just wanted to confirm, I like you and want to date you. Only you. Is that clear?" You just nod, breaking into a smile so big your jaw hurts.
"Also you might be the muse of my paintings."
"What? How many?"
He looks shy. "One?" You raise your eyebrows. "Okay, five."
"Hyunjin wha-"
You never get to finish the sentence as he takes your mouth in his and you've never loved rude interruptions before. Seems like wouldn't mind anything as long as you get to hold and be held by Hyunjin and dance with him through a thousand storms.
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banjjakz · 4 months
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final girl: jjk visualkei idol!au x stan!f!reader
author's note: this is a choose-your-own-adventure PWP series. each route will have its own host of chapter-specific warnings, but some general content advisories include: obsession, stalking, elements of horror, codependent/unhealthy relationships, imbalanced power dynamics, erotic descriptions of death, etc etc please see: main menu for navigation & guide for recommended route order. enjoy ~ ^^
> main menu > guide
[PROLOGUE]
➡ GAME START
The time: three o’clock in the morning. The place: one of Kabukichou’s countless dilapidated venues. The weather: piercingly frigid, biting cold which mercilessly impales your already tumultuous gut. Those in attendance: approximately three hundred other dedicated fans, and – of course – the main act:
Shinjuku Showdown.
As an underground idol group, ShinShow makes no effort to conform to some false overly polished, perfectly airbrushed boy-group image. What sets them apart from the rest of the underground crowd is their steadfast dedication to their unique concept: jujutsu sorcery.
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Allegedly, all members of ShinShow are reincarnated sorcerers from various eras in Japanese history, reborn to entrance thousands with the preternatural capabilities of their musical talent. In this lifetime, they manipulate the cosmos not with mudras, but with peerless performances.
Many so-called stans claim to know their lore inside out; you, however, pride yourself on being a part of the slim majority of the fanbase who has walked with the members since the beginning. You were a fan of each individual member while they were preoccupied in other idol activities before eventually joining together to create ShinShow. This, you are convinced, sets you apart from the swathe of fresh blood clogging up the congested standing pit. Everyone loiters in one single cesspool of quivering, fanatic anticipation. You bet many others feel like prey, yearning to be caught in the captivating gaze of their preferred member. But you’re different. You aren’t prey.
After years of unwavering support including (but certainly not limited to): countless hours spent digitally streaming; months’ worth of paychecks devoted to VVVVVVVVIP Access Packages, pre-releases, physical albums, official merch; and premium music subscription services, you consider yourself the exact opposite of a creature lying in wait, ready to be devoured.
No, you are the one who does the devouring.
Consuming ShinShow content is the closest you have ever come in your miserable life to satiating the empty void weighing you down, siphoning the sleep out of your nights, rendering your few non-work-related phone calls devoid of any real meaning.
Walking with ShinShow has brought you to a new, enlightened state of being. You are cleansed anew each time you have the privilege of breathing in the same atmosphere into which they perspire, passionately entangled in the performance of their morose melodies. Screaming fan chants until your throat bleeds and pricking yourself with arts and crafts supplies in the effort to make your own cheering uchiwa are essential sources from which you derive a tenuous – but nonetheless persistent – will to live.
Supporting ShinShow has become a devotional act. And you are, if nothing else, devout.
Up above head, the house lights are snuffed into nonexistence. An impenetrable darkness asphyxiates all sense of vision and a charged murmur sweeps through the venue. Excitement runs rampant like an epidemic, spreading from phone charm to deco’d polaroid holder to custom-made fan slogan.
It’s time.
As always, you hear them before you see them: the isolated, mournful wailing of an electric guitar echoes throughout the atmosphere, seemingly pulling a shroud over the crowd and commandeering the entirety of your attention to the mysteriously black stage. Soon to follow are the crashing of symbols, the striking of drums, the unnerving thrum of that otherworldly bassline, and last, but certainly not least, the main vocal’s banshee-like shriek.
The show is absolutely charged with some sort of intoxicating misery. This is why you love them above all others – the unique, dreadful energy that pools wherever ShinShow performs is a testament to their unmatched skills as entertainers.
Even in the midst of a taxing live show, there is not a crack in the façade, not a chink in the armor. The drummer, despite pounding away with reckless abandon, displays an unshakable poker face of utter apathy, which would be made somewhat less terrifying if he didn’t have on his usual corpse paint: a white face, powdered and even like a geisha, bisected at the middle with a harsh black line cutting neatly from cheekbone to cheekbone. Even when shouting some of the raunchier, more aggrieved lyrics, his black-painted lips curl rather cutely around the vulgar vowels.
Just as dedicated to his craft, the bassist plucks out morose notes with limp hands and cold eyes, moving his body as a medical examiner might manipulate a cadaver’s stiff limbs. He’s got lanky, black hair with parted bangs brushing his impossibly long, doll-like lashes. Despite his pretty looks, he appears ultimately ghoulish, with a wan complexion, sunken cheekbones, and lips perpetually bitten raw. This is not to say he doesn’t get excited while performing – because he absolutely does! But when he moves, it is with a disconcerting preternatural speed. Is it truly the adrenaline rush of a live performance that moves him? Or does something else entirely occupy his svelte, hollow carcass?
Not to be outdone, the lead singer inspires as much awe as he does fear in the hearts of his catatonic, reverential fans. In stark contrast to his easygoing off-stage countenance, his on-stage persona lets his hair loose. Literally. A smooth, unbroken cascade of obsidian drapes his well-toned form from the crown of his head to the small of his back. Many of his female fans are envious of his well-maintained locks, and rant about this very grievance in pages and pages of obsessive online ramblings. With tastefully gauged lobes, a spear of shocking silver speared through his tongue, and swirls of ink lining the ribbed midsection of his throat, the band’s front man is an unapologetically alternative heartthrob. When he sings, it sounds like he’s trying to resurrect something long dead and gone through sheer force of will. How anything alive or otherwise could resist his siren’s call is an eternal mystery.
And last, but certainly not least, there is the guitarist, who stands a full head taller than the rest of his bandmates and at least twice as wide. What he lacks in the conventionally attractive, youthful bishounen image of most male idols, he makes up for with a physique gifted from above (or below?) itself. His muscles ripple, glistening with sweat and the remnants of many upended water bottles, as he shreds his strings and whips his unruly pink hair in all-consuming, passionate fervor. Out of all the members, he must be the most unapproachable – after all, his concept is that he’s an epochs-old evil curse who used to eat women and children for fun!  If it weren’t for his washboard abs and de facto stage outfits of open-faced robes and shredded T-shirts, you wonder how many fans he would have left to claim.
Before you know it, the performance draws to a close just as suddenly as it had spontaneously combusted into existence! During the final speaking mention, one of the members wields some lethal fan-service: some fan had thrown a pair of fox ears onto the stage. When he decided to not only put them on, but to pose with cute foxlike mannerisms, the gap moe is too much for the audience to handle. The crowd surges forward, and with a complete lack of any kind of barrier or barricade (this is Kabukichou, after all) you are sent flying into the alarmingly solid, wide, warm chest of the imposing security guard. He looks down at you from the tall bridge of his nose, wordlessly impassive save for the slight quirk of amusement that twists his scarred lips. Beefy arms stabilize you, dispelling your disorientation. Each of his large hands respectively span nearly the entire width of your upper arm. Wow. Sure, he looks well into his forties, but you think he could definitely have a shot as some niche-market idol. He’s even got dark fringe and a sharp jawline! The wrinkles aren’t too bad, either…. if you squint, he’s kinda…
Ahh, you have to pull yourself together! Making goo-goo eyes at this random stranger will ruin your chances at catching the encore. Hurriedly, you (not so) politely squirm your way back into the crowd front, a (not so) respectful distance away from the edge of the stage.
As the final chords fade out into the tepid night, you blink back tears of shock. While it is not unusual for you to be moved to weeping at a ShinShow gig, something about tonight feels markedly different. Is it just you, or were several of the members meeting your eye? Each song in the set saw a moment of charged intensity between either the drummer, the bassist, the lead singer, or the guitarist. In every instance, you flushed red-hot with disbelief, with wanton ecstasy at the thought that you were a passing object in their distracted, roaming gaze. The thought is enough to make you more than a little weak in the knees.
Shaking your head, you are forcibly evicted from your reverie when the house lights surge back to life. The show is over. The music is gone. The members have finally retreated backstage. Some audience members file out of the main exit, while others linger behind in naïve hopes of catching just one more glimpse.
What will you do?
➡ Loiter behind the venue.
➡ Sneak backstage.
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h4zardousch3micals · 6 months
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Are you going to continue POAL
Yep!
I never stopped writing it, I just stopped posting for a bit because of incidents. I've got 5 ready to go, 6 basically done and 7 I've started writing.
Have a doodle that's technically related to the next installment but was mostly an excuse to draw the best boi
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jeonride · 8 months
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— BLINDING LIGHTS ☆
an ateez maknae line series ·˚
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— ever had the feeling like you want to have a rockstar boyfriend? at least, once in your lifetime? because why not? rockstars are rich, have a lot of cars parked inside the garage, luxurious condominium, and so on. but well yeah, they are scandalous. so if you're searching for a scandalous romance story that also heart-breaking, you might take a look of this series !
— JOIN THE TAGLIST HERE ! or simply just leave comment/ask/send me dm ! the 1st story will be released soon ! (in order)
FEATURING : ateez maknae line x afab!reader
STATUS : on going !
GENRE : illicit affair, angst, crime, romance, slight fluff (pls do not expect a lovey dovey story), rockstar au, friends with benefits to lovers (mingi), enemies to lovers (wooyoung), exes to fuck buddies (san), strangers to fuck buddies (jongho).
WARNINGS : SMUT, EACH CHAPTER HAS ITS OWN WARNINGS SO PLEASE READ THOROUGHLY BEFORE YOU READ !
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— ELEVATOR DEAL ☆
ft. bassist!san x afab!reader
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SYNOPSIS: you and san had broke up two years ago, yet you guys met again at the hotel you used to go with him whenever he had concerts back then. you were celebrating your friend's birthday party, half-drunk, and unfortunately bumped to your ex's chest in the elevator and san were surprised too seeing you had changed a lot. that was when the deceptive deal began between you and san- inside the elevator, where no one was watching what you've done with him.
"you know what? you're way more attractive when you're angry. i liked you right after our first fight, back then."
CLICK TO READ ! not yet !
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— HEART LIKE YOURS ☆
ft. drummer!mingi x afab!reader
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SYNOPSIS: mingi had always been in love with you, even though he knew, both of you were just "friends with benefits". but he swore, his feelings toward you were so fucking real. he hated to see you around with your boyfriend, hated that you prefer be with your abusive boyfriend to be with him. and one day, he got chance to show how much he loved you, with his own way.
"heart like yours should've been love someone like me."
CLICK TO READ ! not yet !
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— LOVE WAS NOT LOST ☆
ft. guitarist!wooyoung x afab!reader
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SYNOPSIS: jung wooyoung, was your campus crush who said that you weren't even pretty, you weren't even his type- when you confessed your feelings toward him on valentine's day. well, the wounds already healed though, it happened three years ago and you haven't seen him again after graduated. but still, you can feel the little sting everytime you remember his words. so you really had no idea when he came to your apartment, all sweaty because he just performed and ran to you.
"why didn't you tell me that you're back to this town?"
well, why he wanted to know?
CLICK TO READ ! not yet !
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— OUT OF LUCK ☆
ft. guitarist vocalist!jongho x afab!reader
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SYNOPSIS: you weren't think more further when you applied to be a maid at jongho's mansion. all you knew that this man was rich rich, and you need a lot of money. so when it was time for you to work, you came with the sweetest smile on your face, bowed politely and said that you will do anything that he needed.
"anything? even when i ask you to be on my bed?"
CLICK TO READ ! not yet!
© jeonride 2023. please do not copy, translate, plagiarize, or repost any of my writing anywhere! pretty divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more <3
you can find more of my fics here!
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builtbybrokenbells · 11 months
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Picasso
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after months of silent pining over the boy across the hall, y/n finds herself face to face with the one person she can’t seem to get off her mind. a friendly dinner and a night spent in the art studio leads to more truth being revealed than either bargained for. a profession of attraction leads to an opportunity for an unconventional hookup, where Sam gets to make her first time unforgettable.
COLLEGE DORM AU
Read aftermath here
Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader
Word Count: 15.5k
Warnings: SMUT 18+, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it, folks), virgin/virginity talk, losing virginity (sam the v card thief 🫣), praise kink, pet names, sexual anxiety/performance anxiety, soft gentle sex (fuck me up fr), fluff, swearing, anxiety, embarrassing crushes, sorry if I miss any!
😮‍💨 sorry this took so long folks. it’s a lengthy one, so prepare yourself. i got a bit carried away. soft Sam fucks me up real bad. hope you enjoy this as much as i loved writing it!! as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!!
~
You weren’t sure who he was. You had no idea where he was from, what he was studying, or if he even knew you existed. Still, that didn’t seem to stop the awkward staring, or the blushing cheeks, or even the speeding heart rate every time he came into your line of vision. You hated yourself for the uncontrollable longing you felt for the boy across the hall, knowing that you would forever be too nervous to approach first. The first few months of your university experience were relatively normal; meeting friends, studying relentlessly, and trying to navigate a brand new life that was so foreign from the last. Then, after the novelty of freshman year wore off, and the hallways were routinely more empty than you’d grown used to, you started to run into him.
The first time you saw him, you almost missed him. You only noticed the back of his head as he disappeared around the corner. But, almost as if fate was playing a sick trick on you, he happened to forget something in his room. When he came back around the corner, giving you the opportunity to see his face, it felt as though you’d received a punch to the stomach. Thankfully, he was in too much of a rush to notice your staring. His long, brown hair looked messy, yet perfectly styled around his slender face. His jawline was sharp, angled gracefully into a perfect chin. The space just above held his lips, a permanent upturn in the corner adorned on them, although barely noticeable in passing. His brown eyes looked inviting, a colour you could spend all day lost in. Once he passed you, you knew it was too late; you’d already fallen for him, and there was no escape.
Perhaps it was because you came from a small town, one where all of the boys looked like the same person, just in a different font. You’d never met a boy who caught your eye quite like he did. He had a charming aura without even speaking, which was impossible to attain, according to your standards. You never really wasted time on dating, more or less finding it pointless. You were well aware there was no person to find in your town that would work out long-term. You were never a date for heartbreak type, understanding that there was no need of having a relationship if you start it with a pre-existing condition that it will inevitably end. You had a few bad experiences with the boys you’d given a chance, and never tried again. It wasn’t worth the hurt, or the trouble, so you kept to yourself. But, whatever it was about the boy across the hall, you were certain if you ever got the chance, you’d want it to last a lifetime.
After the initial shock of seeing him, you seemed to notice him everywhere. Every time you left your room, his door was open, or he was in the hallway talking to his friends. He was always running into you at meal hall, taking post in your favourite spots in the library, and even in some of your classes. You had no idea how you’d gone so long without noticing him, because now, he never ceased to exist in your mind and your life. You’d never managed to get the nerve to speak with him, or even muster a wave when he passed by. The most the two of you shared was a smile each morning; which admittedly, made your day a whole lot better every time. As unfortunate as it was, the two of you had mastered the art of remaining strangers despite the constant desire to be more.
You never verbalized your feelings to anyone, not your friends, or even yourself. You thought it was a bit ridiculous to be infatuated with someone solely based on looks. Yet, you found yourself creating a fabricated version of him, one that you deducted based on what you noticed over the passing weeks. One where he was funny, in a sarcastic or a goofy type of way. One where he was very laid back, but very involved in the lives of the people he loved. And the worst one of all; one where he was fantastic in bed. You thought it was alright to daydream, even if you would never know for certain in this lifetime.
Despite your mostly quiet pining, everybody around you was well aware of how you felt about mystery boy. Your friends seemed to take extra measures to point him out in a public setting, or ‘unintentionally’ cross paths with him. They never admitted it, but you knew what they were doing. Instead of fighting about it, which would only give them the answer they so desperately wanted from you, you laughed alongside them at the ‘strange coincidences’. Although, one thing inherently positive that came from the whole ordeal, was that you’d made acquaintance’s with his best friend, Danny. You’d found out that he was also in a few of your classes, and lived on the floor above you.
He occasionally stopped by your room for a quick chat, or some help with projects. He was friendly, and tall, and quite attractive, too. You never mentioned his friend that lived across the hall, and he didn’t, either. As far as you were concerned, your friendship with Danny would remain just as such, with no hidden implications about the beautiful boy he spent most his time with. Never once would you ever want to make him feel like you’d become friends with him just to get closer to his best friend, because you didn’t. Any hello, or how are you, or any of the conversations you’d shared had always been because you wanted to talk to him. You liked him, and just so happened to find it much easier to strike conversations with him, too.
You walked down the hallway, pushing your way through the swarms of people preparing to leave for spring break. That Friday marked the end of classes for a week, meaning that lots of people were either packing up to return home for a few days, or headed somewhere much warmer to drink themselves into oblivion. You had opted to stay for the week, finding no real desire to visit your family, and having no available funds to travel the world. All of your friends were leaving, presenting a fantastic opportunity for you to catch up on some schoolwork. You keyed into your room, dropping your bag on your bed and kicking your shoes off. You threw on your slippers and took your hair down from its clip.
You walked into your bathroom, seeing a note stuck on the mirror. You pulled it off, reading over the scribbled words. Your suite mate had left for the week, wishing you a good time and telling you she’d see you soon. You smiled, slipping it into your pocket to add to your collection of first-year memorabilia. You had an elaborate final project planned for your introductory art class, and you were collecting as many pieces to add to it as possible, wanting nothing more than to make a showstopper. You fixed your makeup in the mirror and combed through your hair with your fingers, trying to sharpen yourself up after a long day of classes. As you returned to your room, you heard a knock on your door.
When you opened it, you saw a familiar, smiling face. “Well hello.” You said, pulling the door open fully.
“Hey, Picasso.” Danny greeted. “What are you up to?”
“Just got back, actually. I stayed late at the studio. Trying to get my practical piece done for my painting class.”
“I see. Have you started the essay for poetry?” You shook your head, stomach sinking at the thought.
“I was going to start that this weekend. I just picked my topic. I’ve got a couple years worth of Shakespeare sonnets to read.” Danny was an English major, and you were an arts major, but your classes seemed to cross due to your minor in writing.
“That’s such a cop out topic,” He teased, leaning against the door frame. “And it’s spring break, aren’t you supposed to be having fun?”
“Fuck you.” You laughed, waving your hand to invite him inside. “Spring break is only fun for rich kids taking business majors.” You joked.
“Us arts kids know how to have fun, too, you know. We don’t have to get on a plane to do that.” He reminded you, walking inside and taking a seat on your bed.
“Well, what about you, then? Any big plans?”
“Frankenmuth.” He said, trying to make it sound more exciting than it was. You raised an eyebrow at him, expecting something more to the statement, but that was all he said.
“Enthralling.” You laughed, taking a seat in your desk chair. You watched the people pass by in the hallway, no real thoughts in your head. “Just you going?” You asked, eyes falling on the door closed just across from yours.
“Yeah, my friends are gonna stay here. Just thought I’d go back and visit the parents for a few days. Don’t think I’m staying the whole week.”
“Nothing wrong with that, Danny boy.” You said, flipping your laptop open that was sitting on your desk. “When are you leaving?”
“Tonight, probably. I like driving at night.” You were okay with that, completely agreeing with his statement. There was something very peaceful about driving in the dark, especially when the roads are mostly barren. It was almost like time stood still. You knew the drive wasn’t too long for him, so you had faith he would be alright. “That’s why I came to see you.”
“You’re so sweet,” you grinned, opening Netflix and throwing on the most recently watched show. “Gonna miss me?”
“Of course, Picasso.” He said as if it were obvious. “Come with me, if you want.” He offered.
“You wouldn’t want me to tag along, your parents might like me too much.” He laughed at your words.
“And that’s a problem?”
“You wanna listen to them ask about me for the rest of your life?” You teased.
“Doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.” He shrugged.
“You’re too nice for your own good.” You chuckled. “As much as I would love to spend reading week with you, I very much need access to an art studio and shitty, free coffee refills from the library.”
“I know,” he assured you. “If you change your mind, offers there.”
“Thanks, Danny.” You said, more sincerity in your tone than before.
“The reason I came down here though, was to see if you wanted to grab dinner with us before I leave.”
“Us?” You questioned, cocking your head to the side.
“Yeah, me and Sam. I know you told me your friends already left, so I thought maybe you’d like some company.”
“Oh, so it’s a pity invite?” You smirked. He rolled his eyes.
“No, I want you to come. Thought that was kind of obvious.”
“Just pulling your leg.” You assured him. “Uh, who’s Sam?” You laughed, feeling a little ridiculous for not knowing. He watched you with confusion, waiting to see if you were joking.
“Sam? Kiszka? Like, the guy who lives across the hall?” He asked, completely baffled. “You don’t know Sam?”
“Oh!” Your cheeks turned crimson. “Yeah, I know who he is. That’s your best friend, right?” Danny nodded. “Yeah, I know him. Just didn’t know his name. Never really spoke to the guy.” You laughed, trying to pass off the awkwardness.
“Fuck, y/n, I thought you guys knew each other! I’m sorry I didn’t introduce him to you.”
“No! Don’t be sorry, Danny.” You waved it off. “I never brought it up, either.”
“That’s weird though, cause he definitely knows you. He knew who you were when I mentioned we were working together on that last poetry assignment. I was under the impression that you guys were neighbourly.” He shrugged, confusion still lingering in his features.
“Oh, uh… I guess my names on my whiteboard. Maybe that’s why. He’s definitely seen me around. We smile at each other and stuff in the halls, but that’s about it.” Danny eyed you almost as if he didn’t believe you.
“Well, he seems pretty fond of you for someone he only smiles at in the hallway.” You felt the blush rise to your cheeks again, embarrassed even at the thought of him mentioning your name. “You do know him, don’t you?”
“No, I swear I’m telling you the truth.” You raised your hands in defence. He watched you, scanning your face for a hint of a lie. After a second, his expression lit up.
“You have a crush on him!” He bellowed, feeling accomplished for finally solving the mystery. Your head whipped to the open door, making sure nobody was in the hallway.
“Shut up!” You hissed, making a move to shut the door. “I do not!” You said once you protected the privacy.
“That’s a lie, Picasso.” He let out a disapproving tsk.
“I don’t even know the guy.” You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, he’s attractive, but I can’t exactly like someone I don’t know.”
“Sure you can, and you do.” He grinned. “And you’ll like him even more after dinner tonight.” He decided.
“So now I don’t have a choice if I go or not?”
“No, not at all. I’ll leave you to get ready. He should be back around 6.” Danny stood, not willing to hear any protests.
“Danny, if you say anything to him, I swear to god I will kill-“
“Lips are sealed, Picasso. See you at six.” He sent you a wink before disappearing out the door. You felt your stomach twist in knots, nervous that Danny was going to mention something to him.
You distracted yourself by scouring your closet for something acceptable to wear. You cursed him for leaving so soon; he didn’t even tell you where you were going. You had no idea if you should dress nice, or casual. As you checked the time, you decided that somewhere in the middle would be suitable. A nice shirt and a pair of black jeans, just to dress it down a bit. You went to the bathroom and quickly ran your curling iron through your hair with no real effort, just to give it a bit of volume. You brushed your teeth and touched up your makeup again, spritzing on some perfume before you walked back to your room. You threw on some jewelry, deciding if you were going to properly meet mystery boy, or Sam, rather, you were going to make a good first impression.
When the clock struck six, there was an insistent knock on your door. When you opened it, Danny was beaming down at you once more. “You clean up good, Picasso.” He complimented. Rarely did he ever see you out of your studio clothes; you were always covered in paint, or plaster, or some other sort of artistic expression. You spent more time in the studio than you did anywhere else. Of course, the workload was heavy even for first year, but you spent a lot of free time there, too. It was great for your mental health, and aside from your projects, you made smaller pieces to sell on the side. Unlimited access to art tools was a huge benefit to going to the university you chose, and your talent allowed you to make some extra money. Making a living off something you loved to do made your university experience a million times better.
“Thanks, Daniel.” You laughed. “Ready to go?” You asked.
“Yeah, you?” You nodded. You threw on a denim jacket, finishing off the outfit. You joined Danny in the hall, looking around to spot Sam. When you didn’t see him, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment.
“Where are we going?” You asked, distracting yourself from the feeling.
“There’s this little Italian restaurant downtown. I’ve been meaning to try it, but never got around to it. Figured tonight was as good as any other night. Is that cool with you?”
���Oh, yeah. I’m not picky.” You assured him.
“Awesome.” He breathed, making a move to the other side of the hallway. He stood before Sam’s door, sending a knock echoing through the air. Within a few seconds, the door swung open to reveal the boy you couldn’t seem to get out of your head. His hair was slightly damp, and the smell of his shampoo hit you almost instantly. He pointed at you without a word, causing you to shoot him a nervous look. He got a small laugh at your reaction.
“You copied my outfit.” He accused, a goofy smile etched onto his expression. You looked down at what you were wearing, then back to him. You were both wearing Jean jackets with a black base layer. After a second, you laughed, too.
“Guess so.” You shrugged, trying to ignore the incessant butterflies running rampant in your stomach. “I’m y/n,” you held a hand out to shake.
“Sam.” He said, reciprocating the gesture. “I guess we’ve never properly introduced ourselves.” He noted.
“Not very neighbourly of us, was it?” You chuckled. His eyes lingered over you, taking in the whole sight before humming an agreement. You desperately tried to fight away the blush rising to your cheeks, but failed miserably. You hoped he didn’t notice.
“I hear from Daniel that you’re quite the artist.” He said, the smile never leaving his face. At his words, the redness on your cheeks completely took over, leaving no doubt that he could see it.
“Modern day Picasso, actually.” Danny corrected.
“You’ll have to show me, sometime.” Sam’s tone was soft, no tone of sarcasm present.
“Maybe I can sneak you into the studio someday.” You offered.
“It’s a date, then.” He said it so effortlessly, like the words meant nothing, but it set every nerve in your body on fire.
“G-guess so,” you tried to cover up your stutter, but they certainly noticed. You were thankful they didn’t comment on it. Sam stepped into the hallway, closing his door behind him. The three of you ventured towards the exit of the building without another word.
The evening was cool, but not unbearable. By the time you’d walked to the restaurant, you had managed to shake some of the nervousness off. The small chatter and jokes eased the tension by miles, allowing you to enjoy the company rather than fear embarrassment. Danny went inside first, Sam holding the door open for both of you. You muttered a small thank you, disappearing inside of the building. The smell of the food was fantastic, and the decoration and atmosphere was incredibly inviting. Danny noticed a ‘seat yourself’ sign, taking it open himself to lead the group to a booth. He slid in one side and you sat across from him. Sam looked between the two seats, ultimately deciding to sit next to you. The booth was tiny, and as he settled and got comfortable, his leg was gently resting against yours. You felt your heart speed, trying not to focus on the constant contact.
You all ordered after taking a good look over the menu. As you were waiting, Sam turned to you to speak. “So, Picasso,” he started. You turned your head to look at him, strangely pleased at the way the nickname sounded on his tongue. “Any travel plans for the week?”
“Oh, no.” You shook your head. “Love them, but my family drives me crazy, and I have too much work to get done to go anywhere else.” You admitted. “You?”
“No, I thought it was best to stay, too. I get what you mean about the family thing. Love them to death, but peace and quiet is nice, sometimes.” He chuckled. “Daniel will have to go on the journey alone.”
“So you guys are from the same town?” You looked between the two. They both nodded.
“Yeah, best friends since, what, middle school?” Danny laughed.
“Pretty much.” Sam agreed.
“That’s cool, actually. Nice that you guys have a piece of home here with you.”
“What about you? Any piece of home here?” You shook your head.
“No, and thank god there isn’t. Wanted to get the hell out of my hometown and start over. It’s worked so far.” You explained.
“Where are you from?” Sam asked, now intrigued.
“Arizona. Small town in the middle of nowhere, where everybody looks and acts the same and you get chastised if you’re any different.”
“Mind-numbing.” He replied. You nodded, unable to agree more. “Everybody needs originality.”
“Not them, apparently. I couldn’t wait to leave, and I never want to go back.” You almost shuddered at the thought.
“So where after this?” Sam never let his eyes leave you, as if he wanted to engrave every detail of your face in his mind.
“Uh, wherever, I guess. I haven’t really thought about it. I may travel for a while if I can before I commit to anywhere.”
“Smart woman,” he gave a small smile. “Know your options before you settle down.”
“Yeah, I suppose you could look at it that way.” Your conversation was interrupted by the waitress bringing drinks and setting them in front of you. You sipped from your straw, pondering what to speak about, next. “What are you taking, Sam?” You suddenly remembered you hadn’t asked him, yet.
“Oh, music theory.” He said. You eyed him in shock, not expecting that answer.
“What instrument?”
“Piano, on the paper at least.” He laughed. “I like playing bass and guitar more, but I figured they’d be more likely to accept me with piano as my focus.”
“Smart move.” You pondered the information for a moment. “Listen to this one,” you caught both of their attention. “So, Picasso, Shakespeare and Billy Joel walk into an Italian restaurant,” you started, causing a chorus of laughter from both boys.
“You play a piano once and you can never escape the Billy Joel jokes.” Sam shook his head, ghost of a laugh still lingering on his lips. You couldn’t help but admire him, feeling the overwhelming curiosity of wondering what it would be like to kiss him.
“You’ll be alright, piano man.” Danny assured him.
“Yeah, you can even sing us a song, if you want. That might make you feel better.” He shot you a look of warning, but there was visible humour laced in it. The both of you were feeling the nervous tension melt away more by the second.
The time passed too quickly for your liking; the meal was fantastic and the company was even better. When the time to leave came around, you were begging the clock just for another minute. You had spent the whole night beating yourself up for not getting over your fear and speaking with Sam sooner. Aside from him being incredibly attractive, he was funny, and charming, and quite sweet, too. You felt like you’d missed out on a lot. Even if nothing romantic happened, you’d could consider yourself content just being his friend. When the waitress brought the bills over, Sam took it upon himself to ensure you couldn’t get your hands on the debit machine. As you all filtered back outside into the cool night air, your feeling of nervousness returned. Looking at Sam, how the glow from the street lights casted over his face, how his hair flowed in solidarity, messy but perfect all in one, made you realize that knowing him only made the desire so much stronger.
Somewhere deep down you hoped he was an asshole, so you could finally shake the hopeless feeling of need for him. The more you talked to him, the more you fell for the goofiness of his aura, the humour he wore so proudly, or the kindness permanently anchored behind his words. He was more than just a pretty face, and to you, it was devastating. The last thing you wanted was to fall for someone, but you were well aware that it had happened long before your night of pasta critique. “You headed back to dorm?” Sam asked, his hand on your upper arm breaking you from your thoughts. You swallowed hard, trying to shake off your brains’ incessant reminders of what it felt like to be touched by him.
“Yeah,” you nodded.
“I’m headed out, now, I think.” Danny said, looking between the two of you. “Packed the car earlier, so I should hit the road.”
“Oh,” you breathed, trying to keep your eyes on him, and him only. “Which lot are you parked in?”
“The one by our building. I’ll walk back with you guys.” You nodded at his words, feeling a sudden rush of relief knowing you wouldn’t have to walk alone with Sam. Not that you would mind being alone with him, more of a fear of embarrassing yourself somehow. The three of you started the short walk with few words exchanged in the process. When you reached the entrance to the parking lot, you all stopped to bid a farewell.
Danny pulled you into a quick hug, thanking you for going to dinner. He hugged Sam, letting him know he’d text him when he was back home. “Might text for poetry help.” You smiled at him.
“You could text me just to say hi, too, you know.” Danny reminded.
“That is my way of saying hi.” You laughed. “Too nervous to be upfront.”
“No need for that, Picasso. I’ll see you guys soon.” He promised. You and Sam waved goodbye as he parted from the trio, leaving the two of you to yourselves. You kept your eyes glued to the ground, wanting to look anywhere other than his beautiful face.
“You have anywhere to be?” Sam eventually spoke. You found the courage to meet his eyes, feeling the butterflies erupt in your stomach once more.
“I was thinking about heading to the studio, actually.” You very much enjoyed your 24/7 access to the art building. It made your usually boring weekends a bit more enjoyable.
“Care for some company?” He smiled.
“You trying to get me in trouble, piano man?” You smirked.
“Nobody will ever know I was there.” He promised. You pondered the idea, realizing that it was more than likely nobody would be there, anyway. It was usually quite barren in the evenings, even more so considering the week-long holiday.
“Okay.” You nodded, holding your hand out for him to grab. “Come on.” He wasted no time slipping his hand into yours. You took off in a run back to the dorm with him following closely behind. You both made it to the front entrance of the building, keying in and immediately running to your rooms. “I just have to change.” You told him before disappearing into your room. You quickly changed into your work clothes, realizing how embarrassing the new outfit was. There was old paint stains on the t-shirt and jeans, years worth of artistic memories begging to be washed away. You didn’t waste too much time dwelling, too eager to be back in Sam’s company.
You were nervous to be alone with him, but the thrill of seclusion with him was overshadowing anything else. You thought maybe you’d be able to unravel some of the mystery, to get a chance to hear about his stories and memories that were hidden away. When you went back into the hallway, Sam was waiting for you. He had also changed into different clothes, a pair of sweatpants and a tattered old band shirt with the logo worn down to just a shadow. He had a sly smile graced his lips. “Ready?” You breathed. He gave a nod, silently hoping you’d reach out for his hand again. When you started walking down the hall, he followed after you, only momentary disappointment taking over.
You walked side by side to the art building, buzzing with unspoken excitement. When you reached the doorway, you scanned your access card on the reader and the lock clicked open. As you pulled on the handle, you looked back at him and pressed a finger to your lips, signalling for him to stay quiet, just in case anyone else was around. Regular students were allowed in the art building during office hours, but art students were the only ones granted access outside of normal school times. You were sure you’d only get a slap on the wrist if someone realized he wasn’t an art student, but you still didn’t want to take the chance. He nodded, ensuring he wouldn’t make a peep. You took his hand again, leading him inside and directly to the stairwell to the basement.
You took a sigh of relief when you let the studio door close behind you. You went right to your small locker where you stored your paint supplies and brushes. You unlocked it with a tiny key you kept around your neck. You pulled out your belongings, nodding Sam in the direction of the main room. The bright fluorescent lights were nothing new to you, but it seemed like it almost caught him off guard. You set your stuff down on a desk and grabbed an easel, carrying it over to where you were planning to sit. “I’ll be right back.” You told him, walking off to a side room. You opened the door, flicking the light on in the small storage space. You grabbed your large canvas, careful not to bump the front of it, worried it still may not have completely dried. You took it back out to the main room and propped it up on the easel, pulling a stool in front of it.
Sam moved a second chair over, sitting beside you. His eyes drifted over the artwork, scanning it intently and drinking up every detail like he needed it to survive. “I see why Danny calls you Picasso, now.” He mumbled, still looking over all of the details. You felt the redness creep up on your cheeks again, flattered at his compliment. “This place anything special to you, or just a stock photo?” There was a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Well, the cabin is. It’s my family’s. We spent a lot of time up there when I was a kid. The background is pretty dramatized, cause my inspiration pictures were a little bland.” You chuckled. “We’ve been working on landscapes, so I figured I would paint something meaningful.” The large oil painting had the image of the aforementioned cabin nestled in a plot of trees. The leaves were radiating the colours of autumn, and the neutral mountains in the background made the colours stand out. A small stream flowed through the mountain valley, and birds floated through the air. There were patches of flowery grass and bushes covering the ground. The outline was finished, and you’d been working on the intimate details of the piece. You were estimating only a few more hours of work, eager to have this finished so you could move on to the next project.
“It’s stunning.” He said, moving back to look at you again.
“Thanks,” your voice was soft, full of gratitude.
“Have you always wanted to be an artist?” He asked. You thought about the question, pondering the appropriate answer.
“I always loved art, but don’t think I actually decided to study it until late into high school. I never thought I’d be able to make it, but then I entered a few contests and won, and I guess it kind of kick started the process of getting here. At first, my parents weren’t super supportive of the idea. I think they’d rather me be a doctor or a lawyer, but they knew it would only make me miserable. Now that they see what I’m doing, and how happy it makes me, they’re a bit more on board. Their encouragement really helped me feel like I was supposed to be here.” You explained. “Deep down, I probably always knew I would do art for a living, but I fought it for a long time. It’s not really regarded as a ‘profession’, and I think that discouraged me for a long time.”
“Don’t ever feel that way again.” He shook his head, looking back towards the canvas. “Someone with talent like this should never second guess themselves.” You swallowed hard, having a difficult time digesting such a compliment. “This is the type of stuff to end up in galleries.”
“You’ll have to let me design your album art when you release your EP, then.” You smiled.
“You haven’t even heard me play yet.” He brushed the comment off, a small laugh lingering in his words.
“Don’t have to, I just know.” You said, pulling out your glass palate. You sifted through your bag of paints, choosing the colours carefully. You squeezed small amounts on the surface, looking back towards the large painting. You started to work, unsure of where the conversation would lead to next.
“What music do you like?” He asked, watching your hands as you painted.
“Everything.” You said, never losing your focus. “Not picky.”
“You have to have a favourite.” He inquired. A smile tugged at your lips.
“Well, yeah.” You rolled your eyes.
“What is it, then?” He laughed, eyes moving to your face.
“Guess.” You thought if he wanted to get to know you, he could work for it, first. At least a little bit.
“You’re a classical person, aren’t you?” You looked at him through the corner of your eyes, furrowing your eyebrows slightly.
“Insulting,” you replied. “You think I’m that boring?” You teased.
“Worth a shot.” He shrugged. “Rock?”
“Yeah,” you nodded. “I like metal, too, but I mostly stick with rock.”
“Never would have guessed the metal part.” His surprise was showing in his expression.
“Yeah, well, I have lots of tricks up my sleeve.” You chuckled, wiping your brush on your apron.
“Can’t wait to figure them out.” His words were smooth, concise, even, as if he was waiting to deliver the line the whole night. Your stomach fluttered with the thought of him wanting to know more about you. You both fell into a silence, eventually playing music off your phone to fill the stale air. You were fine without words exchanged; you enjoyed him sitting with you while you worked. He didn’t seem to mind either, enthralled in your technique. “What’s your favourite thing to paint?” He eventually disturbed the quiet.
“I like nature. It’s always so calming to recreate. So many different options, and imperfections don’t cause an issue, because nature isn’t perfect. I think that’s what makes it beautiful.” You explained. He nodded along, hoping you would keep talking. You noticed, feeling less reserved about your ramblings, realizing you wanted to share them with him. “Nature is the only constant. It was here from the beginning, and it will be here long after we die, even if it’s changed million times. It carries infinite memories from every era, and it’s our only consistency in this lifetime, and the ones previous. I like the idea of a timeless art piece. If someone looks at this a hundred years from now, they’ll be able to appreciate it the same way we can. Nobody will have to wonder about the origins of the picture. People die, animals pass, but the earth always outlives us. When the day comes and it dies, too, we go with it.” He nodded again, studying your face. He had been for a while, although you hadn’t really noticed. He was watching the way your eyes focused when you were doing delicate work, or how your lips pursed when your brush wasn’t doing exactly what you wanted it to. He also noticed every time you let out a minuscule sigh, content with the flow of the paint, or when you smiled when a familiar song came on the shuffle. He’d been studying you just as much as you did, him, admiring you just the same. He was enthralled in your presence, also never expecting to have you this close to him.
The art of your silent admiration had left little room for belief of a chance for it to happen so intimately. He was basking in the moment, in you. The smell of the paint and your perfume was embedding the memory in his brain forever. The beauty in your passion was electrifying, and he was certain he could watch it all day. He also felt the same when he passed you in the hallways, and caught himself peeking into your room when you had the door open. He felt the same fluster when you smiled at him, and awaited the conversations when Danny spoke your name. He also struggled with the idea of talking to you first, worried about rejection or embarrassment. From what he’d seen, you never showed an inkling of interest, and he didn’t want to come off in the wrong way. When Danny brought the idea of inviting you to dinner, he nearly jumped at the opportunity. Sam’s feelings had also remained quite silent, although his childhood best friend was quick to catch on to the situation. Now with a promise to both of you that your emotions would be kept a secret, it was up to both of you to figure things out. All Danny could do was cheer you on from both sides. “You’ve got a beautiful way of seeing the world.” He noted.
“If you don’t love the earth, you can’t expect it to love you back.” You said, finally turning to look over at him. You were caught off guard at his proximity, noticing he had definitely moved closer since you’d started working. He was sitting a little ahead of you, but his body was turned to be angled towards you. When he caught your surprised look, he gave a small smile.
“I thought you wanted to come and see the art, Sam.” You teased, finding the confidence to make a quick pass about his position.
“I’m looking at it.” He quipped back without a moment of hesitation. You opened your mouth to reply, but couldn’t find any words, flustered at the proclamation. Without another word, he turned to look back at the canvas, leaving you to wonder if his words were satire, or if they had meaning. You took a few seconds to recover, but ultimately pushed the statement to the back of your mind. You continued on, dabbing blots of paint onto the picture and blending it gently. “You know, if you’re looking for a customer, I’d be happy to take this off your hands when you’re finished.”
“You couldn’t afford me, Kiszka.” You joked, using the tip of your finger to get a better blend on a saturated area. You fixed it up with a brush afterwards.
“You think so?” He hummed, not bothering to turn and face you.
“I know so.” You told him, wiping your hand on the apron. You weren’t sure if it was the months of tension catching up to you, or the exhaustion, or the smell of his cologne, but you were desperate for him to turn and face you again. “If you want it, it’s yours.” You breathed, deciding to drop the facade. “Once it’s graded, I have nowhere to put it.”
“How much do you want for it?” He asked, still facing away from you.
“Free, for you.” You said softly, a smile creeping up on you.
“Absolutely not.” He turned now, finally meeting your eyes. “You worked hard on it, you used your own materials. I’m giving you something for it.” He said, finality dripping in his tone. You couldn’t help but shift under his gaze, the authority sending a pleasant jolt of electricity through you.
“Think of it as a token of friendship.” You whispered, unable to stop yourself from looking over his features. The admiration in your eyes was impossible to overlook.
“Friendship?” He questioned after a moment of silence, a new sense of confidence washing over him. “Ouch,” he said, the same cocky smirk playing on the corner of his mouth. You bit the inside of your lip, feeling your breath catch in your throat. You weren’t so willing to fall for the idea that he may have felt the same way. Instead of turning away, he watched you, hoping you’d make a notion of reciprocation. After the shock wore off, you started to understand that he was being serious.
“Courtship?” You corrected yourself, feeling your heart drumming against your chest.
“I think I like that better,” he whispered, eyes falling down to your lips for a second before correcting himself. “Do you?”
“I certainly don’t have an issue with it.” You admitted. He watched you carefully, almost as if he was nervous to advance the situation any further. After a moment of deliberation, he reached his hand up and cupped your cheek, using his thumb to wipe off a smudge of paint.
“Some paint,” he informed you.
“Oh,” you breathed, eyes never leaving him. “Did you get it all?” He inspected further, tucking some hair behind your ear as he did so.
“Mm, I think I missed a spot.” He deducted. You set your palate and brush on the table, not wanting to miss a moment of him. He advanced further, but only slightly, pretending to look harder. You couldn’t fight back a smile. “Want me to get it?” He looked back up at your eyes, hand never moving from your cheek.
“Okay,” you nodded, playing into his act.
“You sure?” He asked again, mostly to tease, but he also wanted to ensure you were comfortable.
“Positive.” You promised. Without wasting any more time, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours.
It was soft, but his lips felt like they were burning into your skin. You reached your own hand out, letting it fall to the back of his neck. You pulled him closer, careful not to get any paint on his clothes in the process. He ran his tongue across your bottom lip, practically begging for more. You were quick to respond, parting your lips and allowing him to deepen the kiss. His other hand slipped to your hip, letting his fingers gently sink into the skin. When he pulled away, you were both breathless and craving more. He let his forehead rest on yours, dreading putting any more distance between your bodies. You gave a smile, unsure of what else you could do to express how you felt. It was like months of torture finally derived into pleasure. No more watching him as he walked past, wondering about his name or what it would be like to say it, or hear him say yours. No more wondering what it felt like to be kissed by him, because now, you knew, and it was way better than you ever imagined. “I’m not sure if I got it.” He admitted, causing a giggle from you. He pulled you in for another kiss, this one shorter and more lighthearted.
“Is it gone?” You asked, intoxicated from the feeling of his lips.
“If I said no, would you believe me?” You could hear his smile in his words.
“Yeah, just because I’d like to kiss you again, though.” His thumb trailed over your cheek as he rested his hand on your jaw. He placed a small peck on your lips, causing you to hum in satisfaction. “I wanted to do that for a really long time.” You said. He pulled back a bit, taking in your expression.
“Me, too.” He chuckled.
“Really?” He gave a nod.
“Since the first time I saw you.”
“Me, too.” You copied his earlier statement. “It’s been a long couple months of admiring you from a distance.”
“Why’d you never say anything?” He questioned, hand still keeping a delicate hold on your face.
“I was scared. Thought maybe you’d think I was weird, or you’d be an asshole. You’re too pretty to be nice, too. It’s not fair.” You laughed. “I didn’t even think you knew I existed.”
“How could I not?” He was almost offended at the thought. You shrugged your shoulders. “You’re the only person I’ve been looking at.” You felt your cheeks heat up again, angry that you couldn’t hide your emotion. “Danny’s been begging me to talk to you for weeks, but I guess I was scared, too.” It clicked in your brain, suddenly making sense why he was so excited when you told him you thought Sam was cute.
“Doesn’t matter,” You told him “We know now.” He nodded, agreeing silently. “Did you want to go back to my room, maybe?” You realized your statement was a bit forward only after you’d said it, but you didn’t really care. You were too caught up in the moment to worry about moving too fast, or any what-if’s. Your small amount of worry was subsided when he immediately stood, holding his hand out to you. You took it, letting him help you stand.
Both of you made quick work at cleaning up the mess you made, buzzing with excitement at the idea of being alone together. Within a few minutes, you had his hand in yours, and you were guiding him back through the unfamiliar building. You checked the main floor before you emerged, making sure there was no security checking out the place. You knew they could be assholes, and almost always asked for an access pass. When you deducted the coast was clear, you pulled him through the lobby and out the front door. You were both in a fit of giggles by the time you reached the dorm building, fumbling with keycards to let yourselves in. The hallways were barren, almost all of the students already gone for their spring trips. It made your journey all the faster, allowing you to make it to your room in record time without any interruption.
You opened the door for him, motioning got him to go inside first. He did so, eyes immediately taking in the sight. He’d caught glimpses of your room, but never got the chance to really see it. There was artwork plastered over the walls, some yours and some from your friends, or even reprints of famous artists. There were ambient lights bordering the ceilings, set to a constant colour. There were paintbrushes and textbooks littering your desk, along with a few empty coffee cups. There were a plethora of Polaroids hung on your bulletin board, a receipt book of memories from the lifetime he wanted to so badly know about. The smell of your perfume lingered in the air and your bed, although messy, looked extraordinarily inviting.
You gave him a small smile, nervous about what he was thinking. “I love it in here.” He said, almost like he could read your mind. You let out a small sigh of relief. His eyes drifted towards the small clay sculptures you’d been messing around with. He leaned closer, smiling at the intricate detail.
“You should come over more often, then.” You smiled.
“I think you’re gonna have a hard time getting rid of me, now.” He laughed. The sound was more beautiful than any you’d heard before.
“Fine by me.” You admitted. “I’m gonna change out of these. Just give me a minute.” He nodded, watching you as you picked some clothes from your closet. You brought them to the bathroom, changing into the shorts and t-shirt. You looked at yourself in the mirror, nearly wincing at the sight. You quickly fixed your makeup with your fingers and brushed your teeth. You sprayed a bit more perfume on the new clothes, and rejoined him. He was still standing awkwardly by your desk, unsure of where to sit. “You can sit on the bed.” You smiled, finding the timidity cute.
“Oh, okay.” He said, looking towards the mattress and sitting down.
“Did you want to watch a movie?” You asked.
“Sure.” He grinned. You went to your laptop, quickly logging in and pulling up Netflix. “I don’t care what we watch.” He admitted. You put on one of the first recommended movies, turning the volume up slightly. You climbed into bed next to him, propping a pillow against the wall and leaning back. He did the same, settling next to you, much closer than anyone else would normally sit.
The intro credits rolled for the movie, giving you a moment to relax from the close proximity. You leaned into him slightly, but not enough to make it obvious. You pulled your comforter over your legs, snuggling into the warmth. You let your hand rest on top of the blanket as you eyed his sitting in his lap. You’d been on dates, but not once since you moved away from your hometown had you felt so adolescent in romance. It felt like you were going through the motions for the first time, completely blind in knowledge. You had no idea how to approach him, how to initiate any of the intimacy you’d been yearning for. You hadn’t noticed you were staring at him, but he certainly did. He looked over to you, giving you a small, soft smile. In response, it made your heart skip a beat.
He took the opportunity to reach over and slip his hand into yours, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. The contact immediately subsided your anxiety, and you finally felt the ability to focus on the screen. After a few moments, you even found the courage to rest your head on his shoulder. The both of you watched the movie in silence, his thumb rubbing small circles over the back of your hand while you did so. As the film progressed, so did your comfortability. By the middle of it, you both had shifted dramatically. He was laying down, and you were resting atop of him, head nestled in his chest. His palm was firmly planted on your lower back, and his other gently tracing shapes into your arm. If you weren’t so energized from being so close to him, you were certain you could fall asleep in that position.
His hand that was on your arm moved to your face, fingers gently pushing your hair away. You closed your eyes, revelling in the feeling. He gently combed through the knots before settling his hand back on your cheek. He guided you to look up at him, sending a smile your way. You returned it, thinking that you would be fine if his face was the only one you could ever see again. “Thanks for inviting me over.” He said, admiring every feature. He knew that you were beautiful from every time he’d seen you before that night, but he realized that he’d been missing out on the best part. Having you laying with him, sleepiness laced in your eyes, made him realize that there was never a time where you were more beautiful. The innocent intimacy was overwhelming in the best possible way, leaving him to believe he could die happy as long as he got to hold you.
“It’s crazy, you know.” You sighed, propping yourself up on your elbow to get a better look at him.
“Hmm?” He replied, fingers dancing in the ends of your hair.
“I spent so long with this stupid little crush. I think because of it, I kind of put you on a pedestal. I forgot you were a person, too. I never believed that I could ever be with you like this. It always felt impossible.”
“I did the same thing.” He admitted, feeling better about it knowing you felt that way, too. “It’s weird. Dating in college is so much different than high school.” He chuckled. You nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly.
“It feels more… adult. In high school, I had to ask my parents permission to go on a date. Now, I can just invite you over whenever I want.” You thought aloud. “But I don’t feel any different. I still feel the same as I did a year ago.”
“Yeah,” he breathed. “It’s strange, knowing that we’re supposed to be adults, now. Especially when I still feel like a kid.”
“I think it’s a good buffer period,” you shrugged. “Pretend to be adults, get the experience, but still be able to make mistakes and learn from them. We get to practice living alone and being responsible, but still get to do stupid shit.” He laughed at your comment, but understood your point.
“I like you, Picasso.” He said, his hand landing on the back of your neck. You smiled at the words.
“I like you, too.” You admitted, eyes trailing over his face in admiration.
“I think it would be cool if we could do stupid shit and learn from our mistakes… together.” He mumbled, gaze focused only on you.
“What are you saying, Billy Joel?” You smirked as he rolled his eyes at the nickname.
“I’m saying,” he paused, eyes flickering down to your lips for a moment. “I would like to do this…. more often.” He articulated his words carefully, a bit nervous to say them.
“I think that would be quite alright.” You deducted. He visibly relaxed at your confirmation. “I… uh, I’m not good at this stuff.” You admitted.
“That’s okay.” He said, tangling his fingers in the hair at the base of your skull. He gently massaged his fingers over your scalp, causing a slight hum of pleasure from you. “That’s part of the making mistakes and learning from them, right?”
“Yeah,” you whispered, entranced in the feeling of him touching you. “I’ve never really had a boyfriend, or anything like that. Been on a few dates, but they ended pretty terribly.” You admitted. He cocked his head to the side, studying you as you spoke. “Like I said before, all of the boys from my hometown are all the same. I learned my lesson, and I realized nothing meaningful would ever come from it, so I just… didn’t.”
“You can talk about it, if you want.” He offered.
“There’s really not much to talk about.” You told him, remembering back to your high school years. “I don’t know if it was just the type of people that lived in the town, or if it was a teenage boy thing, but they just cared about getting laid and nothing more. It was unbearable, and I fell for it a few times, but nobody ever cared about me past the surface. I’ve never met a boy who wanted to know me like you do, or would even admit that they liked me out loud, for that matter. Nobody has ever asked me questions about myself, or my art. It was nice being seen as a person rather than a body.” You muttered the last part, hating saying it aloud.
“They have no idea what they missed out on, then.” He said, bringing you closer and placing a kiss on your forehead. “I’ve only known you, well, really known you, for a day. I already know that I’d be more than lucky to have a chance with you.” Your cheeks turned red, luckily covered by the darkness of the room this time. “They didn’t deserve you. Nobody should make you feel like you can only be loved in privacy. You’re worth more than that.” Your eyes fluttered up to meet his as your brain wondered if the interaction was real, or a grandly fabricated dream. You leaned forward, unable to satiate the need to kiss him again.
He accepted the gesture enthusiastically, using his hands to pull you impossibly closer. You brought your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. After a moment, you couldn’t help but want more. You shifted, trying your best not to break the kiss, placing both of your legs on either side of him. He broke away for a second, just long enough to prop himself up against the wall so you wouldn’t be uncomfortable. He wasted no time, capturing you in another kiss. His hands found your hips, fingers holding you firmly but delicately all at once. You snaked your hand to the back of his neck, holding him like you were scared he would get away from you. When you pulled back, you were both breathless with stars dancing in your eyes.
“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” He said quickly, mind still occupied with the thought of kissing you. “I’m okay if we just lay here and talk.”
“I want to if you do.” You assured him, finally feeling the months of tension reach the breaking point.
“Are you sure?” He asked, searching your face for an honest answer.
“Positive.” You promised, making sure he saw you were being genuine. “I just… I’ve never…yeah.” You trailed off, suddenly a bit embarrassed. He watched you, trying to piece together what you were saying. “I’ve never had sex.” You blurted out, realizing he wasn’t fully understanding you. “I mean, I’ve done some stuff, but never…” you breathed, your face burning for a whole new reason.
“Hey, it’s okay.” He reached his hand to your face, keeping your head straight so you would look at him. You were a virgin in all technical terms, only having awkward sexual experiences and moments with failed flings in high school. It wasn’t a virtue thing, more of a feeling of never finding the right person. With him, you felt comfortable, and were certain that it would be enjoyable. You didn’t have to have experience to assume that. You could tell just by looking at him, by how he spoke to you. He cared about your comfortability, and that was a major green flag. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” His tone was firm.
“No, I want to.” You said quickly, making sure he knew. “I just… I want you to have a good time, and I’m just nervous, I think. I don’t want to… disappoint.” He let out a chuckle, shaking his head at the blasphemous idea.
“Yeah, that’s not even a possibility.” He shut the fear down almost as soon as it sprouted. “I’m gonna have a good time because I’m with you.” He promised. “I don’t expect anything, or anything like that. I’m more concerned with you having a good time.” He said, bringing your face down to place a soft kiss on your lips. “We’ll take it slow, okay? Make sure you enjoy yourself.” He mumbled, his mouth only millimetres away from your own. “That sound okay?”
“Yeah,” you breathed, giving a small nod. You could feel his smile from as he kissed you again.
“You can tell me to stop, or slow down, or whatever you need at any point, okay?” He explained when he pulled back. You nodded. “You can tell me what you like, too. Don’t be shy.” You nodded again. “I need to hear the words, baby.”
“Okay.” You verbally confirmed. He tapped your thigh, silently letting you know he wanted you to get up. You did so, allowing him to move over to the side.
“Lay down for me,” he said, his tone had authority but it was incredibly soft, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. You laid back, eyes locked on his face. You were still anxious, but he was easing it more by the second. He turned onto his side to face you, guiding your face to his once more and connecting your mouths. You kissed him back with more neediness than before, excited by the idea of his hands on you. He slipped his fingers under the hem of your shirt, letting them dance over your skin so you could grow accustom to the feeling.
As he became familiar with the feeling of your body, he took his chance to deepen the kiss. You couldn’t help but let a few small moans of delight out, only fuelling him further. He went slow, working you up to speed. He didn’t want to rush you, or push you too far. He let you take the lead with progressing any further, waiting until you made a move to take an article of clothing away. When you tugged at the hem of his shirt, he moved back from you so he could pull it over his head. You let your eyes fall over his exposed torso, feeling your stomach flutter at the sight. He smiled at your expression, but didn’t say a word in fear of you feeling embarrassed. He made a move towards your waistband, watching your eyes intently as he did so. You gave him a nod of encouragement, letting him know you were okay. He hooked his fingers through the sides and slowly pulled the shorts from your body. You sat up and removed your shirt, too.
His breath caught in his throat at the sight of you in just your undergarments, having to do for a moment just to appreciate the view. “Gorgeous,” he hummed, lowering his head to you once more. He left a trail of gentle kisses across you collarbones, letting his hands trail over your exposed thighs. The minuscule touches were driving you crazy; you had no idea it could feel so good to be admired by someone. His lips moved downward, skipping over your chest and landing on your sternum. He started to get sloppier the further he progressed downwards. By the time he reached your navel, you were practically a mess. He looked up at you, eyelids heavy, taking in every detail of you. The way your chest rose and fell while you breathed, the way your lips stayed slightly parted, the way your hand felt tangled in his hair. It was driving him crazy.
He moved up again, motioning for you to lift your back from the bed. You did as he wanted, allowing him to snake his arms around you and unclasp your bra. He pulled it from your body, discarding it carelessly on the floor. He sucked a sharp breath through his teeth when he finally saw the full view. He was nestled between your legs, one hand planted beside you on the mattress, holding him up upright. His other hand returned to you, resting on your rib cage as light as a feather. He looked to you for permission before doing anything else. “I’m okay, I promise. I’ll tell you if I’m not.” You appreciated his consideration, but you were beginning to feel a bit desperate for more. He didn’t say anything, just brought his hand to your breast and brushed his thumb lightly over your hardened nipple.
The feeling was new, but very welcomed. The small touch sent a jolt of emotion through you. You watched him intently, anticipating his next movement. He brought his mouth to your nipple and pulled it into his mouth. You let out a shaky exhale at the sensation. He flicked his tongue over it a few times, really becoming familiar with you. When he pulled away, you couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed at the loss of contact. He smiled at your sigh of discontent. “Feel good?” He hummed.
“Yeah,” you breathed. He sat upright on his knees, bringing both of his hands to your hips and hooking his fingers through your underwear. You bit the inside of your lip, enthusiastic but still a bit nervous. You lifted your hips from the bed, allowing him to pull them off with ease. He tossed them to the floor, not caring where they landed. He was only concerned with you, now fully naked and laying beneath him. He caught sight of your face, noticing that your eyes were looking away from him.
“Hey,” he whispered. You finally found the courage to look up at him. “You okay, beautiful?” You were glad he disregarded your earlier statement, finding it much easier to communicate with him if he initiated it.
“Yeah, just nervous. It’s nothing you’re doing.” You promised.
“You want to stop?” You shook your head, unable to think of a worse idea. He didn’t immediately jump back to action at the expression, but spoke again after a few moments. “We’ll go slow, okay? This is for you. I wanna give you a good time.” You felt a smile growing on your lips at his words.
“Okay,” you affirmed. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your lips. You felt like you could live in that moment forever.
“Don’t have to be shy, or nervous. Promise I’m gonna take care of you.” He said as he pulled away. “Just tell me to stop, or slow down if you need to. You’re in charge.” You managed another nod as he sunk back between your legs. He laid on his stomach, head inches from your heat. You felt the anxiety lingering, but it was rapidly overtaken by excitement. He placed a few kisses on the inside of your thighs, one arm snaked under one of your legs and gently caressing the outside of your thigh. He brought his free hand to your cunt, fingers ghosting over the area. He looked up to you as if to ask permission. You gave him another nod, assuring him it was okay.
He slowly advanced, wanting to give you ample time to change your mind if you needed to. When you stayed quiet, eyes watching him with anticipation, he took it as a good sign. He ran his fingers through your folds, letting you get used to the feeling before doing anything else. You bit into the inside of your lip, trying to wrap your head around the unfamiliar sensation. It was definitely different when someone else was touching you, you noted. He gathered some of your arousal on his fingers. He spread the wetness to your clit, bringing his thumb to the sensitive area and slowly rubbing light circles into it. Your breath caught in your throat, the feeling taking you by surprise. His eyes flickered to your face, feeling a bit of satisfaction at the sound. You looked down at him, meeting his gaze and feeling a different type of pleasure at the sight.
“How’s that?” His voice was quiet, barely noticeable if not for your intent focus on his every action. “Does that feel okay?”
“Yeah,” you said, less enthralled in the movement of his hands than you were at the look on his face. He had a small smile playing on his lips, but the admiration for you he held in his eyes was worth more than words. He didn’t speak again, but kept his focus on the pattern of his thumb. He applied a bit more pressure, watching your face for a reaction. You let in a sharp intake of breath, feeling the sensation change from unfamiliar to pleasurable. His jaw clenched slightly, the sound running straight through him and settling in his bones. It was small, barely there, but it was blissful to his ears.
He worked at you for a few moments, gentle and loving with every move. It felt good, the nervousness almost completely gone, but there was enough there for you to hold yourself back. Your noises were limited, mostly from fear of embarrassment. You were so caught up in the worry of looking dumb that you were almost overlooking the scene before you. It didn’t deter him, though. If anything, it only drove him further. He was aching too hear the beautiful sounds begging to be let out, and he’d be damned if he couldn’t get them out of you. You watched him closely, not wanting to miss a moment of his presence. He leaned forward, letting a line of spit fall from his lips onto his fingers. You swallowed hard, the small action sending a rush of pleasure through you.
He ran his fingers through your cunt again, making sure the lubrication didn’t go to waste. His middle finger slowed and eventually stopped just before your entrance. “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” He asked, but his tone was more of a demand. You nodded, too caught up in the idea of his fingers almost inside of you to worry about anything else. After a second, he slowly sunk his finger into you, studying you for any sign of discomfort. When you went without protest, he fully pushed his finger in, letting his thumb fall back on your clit. He continued his circles, now adding the stimulation of pumping his finger into you. You let a breathy moan out, unable to hold it back anymore. “That’s it baby,” he practically groaned, ecstatic to hear the noise. “You’re doing s’good.” The praise, although unexpected, was very well received. Knowing that he was enjoying himself solely by pleasuring you was a fantastic feeling. Knowing that he was only concerned with you feeling good was enough to satiate the anxiety.
He continued his pace for a while, eventually adding another finger when you felt you were ready. You were a mess, caught up in the pleasure but worried, too, because you hadn’t felt the creep of an impending orgasm. His hand was steady, never wavering, and his eyes were locked on you. Every so often, he pressed his lips into the skin on your thighs or your hipbones, just as a small act of affection. “Sam, I-I don’t know if I’m gonna cum.” You admitted, voice shaky and a bit defeated.
“You will,” he promised, unfazed by the statement. “Don’t be nervous.”
“I just…” you let out a sigh, frustrated with yourself. “It’s not you, it’s me.” He pulled back, halting his movements.
“I can stop if that’s what you want, baby.” His words were coated with sincerity. “Or are you just worried you can’t cum?” He inquired.
“I don’t want you to stop, I’m having a good time. I just don’t know if I can.” You explained, feeling embarrassment settle in your chest.
“I’ve got all night.” He said, shrugging off the worry. “Can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing.” He gave you a smile.
“I want you to have a good time, too, though.”
“Oh, I am.” His tone changed from gentle to firm. “Don’t worry about that.” You watched him with uncertainty, but the look in his eye was nothing but affirmative of his statement. “Don’t worry about anything. Just lay there and focus on how it feels, okay?” You nodded. “No worries about if you’re gonna cum or not, no worrying about me having a good time, just relax and enjoy the feeling. If you don’t cum, we’ll try again next time.” Your heard sped at the realization that he was planning on this being more than a one-time thing. It was comforting, knowing that he was learning about you so intimately, but wasn’t planning on running. He didn’t want to get your clothes off and never speak to you again like the majority of boys you’d ever known.
“Y-yeah, okay.” You replied. He cocked his head to the side, wondering why the hesitation was so present. “You, uh… next time?” He couldn’t help but grin at your question.
“I mean, yeah, if you want that, of course.”
“Yeah, I do.” You rushed out, hoping you hadn’t made him feel otherwise.
“Then it’s settled.” He hummed. “Not just the sex part, though. The dinner and the hanging out was great, and I’d very much like to do that, too.” You let out a small giggle at his words, finding the explanation cute.
“Me, too.” You assured him.
“Breakfast tomorrow?” He asked, a smirk on the corner of his lips. He started to move his fingers again, taking you by surprise. You let out a gasp at the suddenness, immediately feeling the pleasure return.
“S-sure,” you breathed, giving him a nod. He decided to stop messing with you, wanting to ensure you were as comfortable as you could be. He worked himself back up to his earlier pace, making it nearly impossible for you to think of anything else. He let another trail of spit fall onto his fingers, making sure it wasn’t too dry for you.
After a few moments, you did start to feel a little less insecure. His eyes were watching you, studying every minute detail. He noticed the rise and fall of your chest speed as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of you, the way you occasionally pulled your bottom lip between your teeth in attempt to silence yourself. He watched how your eyebrows furrowed slightly when he brushed over your clit just right, and how your eyes stayed almost permanently shut. He thought you were the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Eventually, a blissful moan slipped from your mouth as his fingers hit the perfect spot. His eyes rolled back slightly, soaking up the sound. “That’s it, baby.” He encouraged you, fingers never stopping.
The words of motivation helped ease your tension. Your stiffness dissipated, your shoulders relaxing back on the pillows a bit. Your neck let your head fall back, leaving you completely at ease for the time being. A few more short-lived moans fell from your lips, all hitting him with a stronger force each time. “Doing so good, princess.” He said, noticing the effect his words had on you last time. “Cum for me, baby. You can do it.” He whispered. The demand went straight to your core, and you started to feel a sensation grow in the pit of your stomach. It was a feeling you’d only ever given yourself; it was way more intense when produced by another person.
“Fuck, Sam.” You whimpered, a gentle warning that you were getting closer. His heart drummed against his chest, clearly excited at the obscene proclamation. He took a risk, removing his thumb from your clit and lowering his head until his lips were touching you. You didn’t realize what he was doing until his tongue darted over the sensitive nerves, causing an involuntarily buck of your hips. He used his hand that was hooked under your leg to hold you down on the mattress.
Your fear of not being able to cum was quickly diminished with the new, even more unfamiliar feeling. It was heavenly. You let a low groan out, feeling the knot in your belly tighten. You slipped your hand down and tangling your fingers in the roots of his hair. He pulled his mouth off you only for a second, just to get one more praise in. “Taste so good, princess.” He said, slipping his thumb back in place of his mouth. You could only whimper in response, already missing the feeling of his tongue. “That’s it, baby. Look at you,” he whispered the last part more to himself than anything else. He only let his eyes hover over your expression for a moment longer, returning his tongue to you.
It didn’t take long to get to where he wanted you to be. Within a few minutes, you were gripping at his hair, panting and moaning, your orgasm begging you to let go. His tongue was moving at a steady pace, and his fingers curled with every re-entry, hitting a spot inside you that nothing ever had before. You let your head fall back, feeling the pressure reach its peak. A wave of pleasure overtook you, setting every nerve in your body on fire. You managed his name through the slur of moans, clenching around his fingers as you came. He only tapered his speed when the intensity began to die down. He removed his mouth first, then slowly pulled his fingers from you. His eyes flickered towards your face, lust clouding his eyes as he did so.
He slowly moved upwards, placing a few kisses over your collarbones and up onto your neck. You finally found the strength to open your eyes and look to him. He caught your gaze and gave you a dopey smile, eyelids heavy and your arousal glistening on his lips. “That’s my beautiful girl,” he hummed, wiping his chin with the back of his hand before leaning in for a kiss. “I’m so proud of you.” He whispered as he parted from you. He placed another kiss on your lips, sweet and full of emotion. The anxiety that had been plaguing you on and off was now gone, replaced solely by a desire for him that you’d never felt for another person before. “Did that feel good?”
“So good, Sammy.” You said, your lips still ghosting over his. You could feel his erection straining against his sweatpants, pressing into your leg.
“My name sounds so good when you say it like that.” He sighed, one hand roaming your exposed torso. His touch was light, tickling the sensitive skin over your rib cage as he did so.
“Thank you,” you whispered, resting your cheek against his, basking in the affection.
“Don’t have to thank me, princess.” He replied. “If anything, I should be thanking you.” You let out a small laugh at his words, finding his gratefulness charming. You reached up and cupped his cheek in your hand, lifting your head to pull him into another kiss. He was hesitant to let you go when you pulled away.
“Do you wanna…?” You trailed off, feeling a bit too embarrassed to finish the sentence.
“Do you?” He asked.
“Yeah,” you breathed, never more sure of yourself in your whole life. He gave you a smile, making a move to stand. He undid the drawstring on his pants, then pulled them down, ridding himself of them and leaving himself clad in only his boxers. You couldn’t help but stare at him, eyes wandering but eventually settling on the bulge barely contained by the fabric. He noticed your stare, a smirk making its way back onto his lips.
“Condoms?” He asked, catching your attention. Your eyes widened, realizing that you didn’t have any.
“Oh, I uh- I didn’t really expect… I don’t..”
“That’s okay,” he chuckled. “I have some in my room. I can go get them.” You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy, realizing that he’d been keeping them for a reason. You pushed the thought away, not wanting to focus on the idea of him being with someone else. He was here with you, and that’s what mattered.
“I, uh, I am on birth control, if you’re clean.” You squeaked, slightly embarrassed at the statement.
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” He said, his tone firm.
“Yeah, I am.” You assured him. “Like I said, as long as you’re clean.” You repeated the earlier comment, just wanting to be sure.
“I am,” he promised. “It’s been a long time since… yeah.” He let out a small laugh. You couldn’t help but feel better knowing he hadn’t been sleeping around, either.
“Then yeah, I’m okay with it.” He gave a nod, making a move to take off his boxers. You watched in admiration, excited to finally see him the same as he was seeing you. He kicked the fabric with the rest of the growing pile of clothes. He stepped back towards the bed, noticing your eyes never leaving him. “You’re… very pretty.” You whispered, unable to find any better words to describe him.
“I think you’re very pretty, too.” He smiled, nestling back between your legs as he grabbed a pillow from beside you. “Lift your hips up, princess.” You did as he said and he slipped the cushion underneath you. “Should make it a bit more comfortable.”
He guided your legs up slightly, not enough to bend you in an awkward position, but enough to make it easier for both of you. “Will it hurt?” You finally blurted out, the question begging to be spoken all night.
“May be a bit uncomfortable at first, but I’m gonna try my best to make sure it doesn’t.” He said, catching your gaze. “We can take it as slow as you want. If you want me to stop, just tell me.”
“Okay.” You replied, voice quiet. You were nervous, but very aware that you were in good hands. It was his only intention to make sure you enjoyed yourself. You watched as he spit on his hand, rubbing himself for a moment.
“You okay?” He asked, wanting to be sure.
“Yeah.”
“Don’t be scared to talk to me, baby.” He reminded. You nodded, eyes only focused on his hand that was he was stroking himself with. He moved a bit closer, letting the tip of his dick rest against your entrance. He let you get used to the feeling before going any further. “You tell me when you’re ready.”
“I am.” You weren’t lying; the anxiety and nervousness was fully expected, but you were more than ready to have sex with him. You were sure of that before you’d even spoken with him, and it was only solidified further when you saw how accommodating he was being with you. He waited for any hesitation, but when none was given, he slowly pushed his hips forward.
You closed your eyes, trying your best to stay relaxed. He only pushed in a few inches, wanting you to adjust before continuing. “That okay?” He asked. You nodded, reaching out for his hand. He took his own from your leg and accepted the offer, intertwining his fingers with yours. He thrusted forward a bit more, studying your expression for a hint of discomfort. When he bottomed out, you let out a small sigh of relief.
“Not as bad as I thought it would be.” You noted. He laughed quietly, happy you thought so.
“You’re doing so good.” He whispered. “You feel so good.” His words sent a jolt of arousal through you, enjoying the praise more than you imagined you would. He slowly built up a pace, moving his hips with caution. Once you’d fully realized the sensation was less than uncomfortable, you relaxed against him. After a few more moments, you began to enjoy the feeling.
“You can go faster,” you sighed, a ghost of a moan in your words. He was hesitant to do so, but he gradually sped his thrusts, admiring your expression. When he clued in to the fact you were enjoying yourself, he couldn’t help but let a groan escape his lips. Your eyes snapped to his face, thinking that was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. His pleasure ridden expression was enough to induce an orgasm on its own, you deducted.
He reached his hand between your legs, letting his thumb find your clit again. He continued his pace, now applying light pressure onto the sensitive bundle of nerves as he circled his thumb. The combined sensations caused a moan from you. Your fingers tightened against his hand, a silent expression of pleasure. “Fuck, Sam.” You sighed, letting your head fall back onto the pillows.
“Look so pretty like this, baby.” He mumbled, trying to keep the speed of his hips and his hand the same. The pet names were unexpected, but you loved hearing them come from his mouth, especially when they sounded like that. “Wish I could have you like this forever.” He sighed, losing himself to the feeling a bit. It didn’t take long for another knot to form in your belly. With the consistency of his movements, it was much easier to get there than it was the first time. Sam noticed the slight change in your demeanour, the increase in the noises you were making. He focused on your face, wanting to watch you this time, feeling a bit cheated out of the moment the first time. “You think you can cum again, princess?” He asked, eyes burning into you.
“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, looking up at him. “Feels so good, Sammy.”
“Come on, baby.” He sounded as if he were begging you. “Doing so good for me.” With his encouragement, you felt your orgasm creep up again. You tried your best to keep your eyes on him, wanting to appreciate him as much as possible. He sped his thumb slightly, causing your breath to catch in your throat. His gaze never wavered, an unspoken plea for you to let go. It only took a moment before you came the second time. Your head fell back again, eyes screwed shut and mouth permanently agape. His jaw was clenched, holding himself back from his own release at the sound of you crying his name. “That’s it,” he moaned, wishing he could engrave the picture in his mind forever. As much as he wanted to cum, too, he was hoping to get one more out of you before the night came to an end.
The pressure from his thumb lightened, but his thrusts sped. You didn’t have time to recover, unlike the first time. The sensitivity was overtaken by the pleasure of him inside you, making it the only thing you could focus on. You looked back at him, realizing your mistake as soon as you did. He was still staring at you, eyes now a bit feral. The muscles in his jaw were taut, and he was quite unfamiliar to you, now. Although different, not in a bad way. It was intense, but far from menacing. You were captivated in the details of his stare, finding yourself unable to look away. He was breathtaking, and you couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to have him in such a way. You couldn’t believe that you had the power to drive him to such a feeling.
“You can give me one more, baby, I know you can.” His motivation was clouded with a bit of dominance, giving you the impression that he wouldn’t be pleased with himself if he couldn’t give you another orgasm.
“I don’t know, Sammy.” You groaned, unsure of yourself but still fully immersed in the feeling of him inside you.
“You can, princess. You can do it.” His chest was heaving with every breath, partially due to his movement, but more to do with desire. There was a glisten of sweat on his forehead, illuminated by the dim light flooding through the window. You didn’t think you’d be able to cum for the first time, let alone a second, or a third. The only anxiety you had left in your body was one fearing you’d leave him disappointed. Rationally, you knew he’d be content with whatever happened, but the louder part of your brain craved to give him exactly what he wanted. It wasn’t out of fear, but solely because you wanted to. From the minute he’d given you that first stupid smile all those months ago, you knew you wanted to be exactly where you were at that moment, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give it your all.
His patience and gentleness with you the whole night was endearing, but for you, the novelty of it being your first time had worn off, and the months of sexual tension was reaching its peak. You were both completely starved for each other in the best way possible, neither of you wanting to disappoint. Sam kept his pace steady, his thumb pressing into your clit again. To both of you, the idea of another orgasm not being reached was out of the question. “I can, but you have to cum with me.” You begged.
“That’s what I like to hear,” he grunted, letting out a long exhale. He knew that wouldn’t be an issue, he’d been holding himself back from the minute you’d started fucking. He rationed with himself as another string of moans left your lips, forcing himself to believe that waiting would be far more satisfactory than finishing before you. “Cum for me, angel.” The new term of endearment was unlike the others; this one hit you violently, such a graceful term for such a filthy display. You let out a cry of pleasure, your third climax hitting you without warning. It washed over you with necessity, as if you needed it to survive. He finally let go of your hand, fingers finding your hips to hold you on him as he came, too.
The room echoed with sounds of pleasure and obscene words, the essence of the moment settling into the walls and solidifying its place. The memory would never leave, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. He let out a sigh, finally losing his composure and resting gently atop of you. He placed tender kisses along your collarbones, small gestures of affection and appreciation to let you know he still meant everything he said to you. After you both came back to reality, he slowly withdrew from you. He tried to keep the mess minimal as he did so, wanting to keep the cleanup simple so he had more time to hold you before the night was through. “You should go pee, don’t want you to get a UTI.” He mumbled. You managed a nod, sleep calling to you like never before. Your mind and body were beyond exhausted, unable to keep up with the whirlwind of events.
He helped you up and to the bathroom, leaving you to your business. You cleaned yourself up and removed what was left of your makeup before returning to him. He gave you a dopey smile and a kiss on the head before going to do the same. You took a seat on the bed, mind still buzzing with excitement at the thought of what happened. When he came back out, he pulled his boxers back on and picked up his t-shirt from the ground. He handed it to you, almost nervous of rejection. You took the piece of clothing and slipped it over your head, more than happy to be wearing his clothes. “Did… did you maybe want to stay with me tonight?” You asked, nervous he’d say no. He took a seat beside you, pulling you into his arms and laying you both down on the mattress.
“Was hoping you’d ask.” He mumbled, pulling your back to his chest. He nuzzled his head into your neck, not caring about the tickle of your hair on his face.
“Thank you,” you finally said after a few long moments of silence.
“What are you thanking me for?”
“I don’t know,” you laughed. “That was… fantastic. You were fantastic.”
“I’m just happy you had a good time. That’s all I wanted.” He hummed, hand snaking under your shirt to rest on your stomach.
“I really did. I.. uh, wanted to do that for a while.” You said, rolling your eyes at your own awkwardness.
“Oh, yeah, me too.” He said, as if it were obvious. “All year I felt like I was in middle school again, crushing on the prettiest girl who didn’t know I existed.”
“I knew you existed.” You whispered, calmed at the knowledge you’d both been feeling the same way. “I thought the same about you.”
“Seems like we were both a bit dumb, then, Picasso.” You could hear his smile in his words.
“Guess so, piano man.” You both fell into a silence again, but like all the other ones, it was nothing short of comfortable. You felt yourself melt into his touch, sleep begging you to close your eyes.
“You’re okay, though? You’re not sore, or anything? You’d tell me if you were, right?”
“Yeah, I am, Sammy. Promise.” You reassured him. He’d done an excellent job at taking care of you and ensuring you were comfortable. It was the best possible scenario you could have imagined for your first time.
“That’s good, I just want to make sure.” He whispered. You settled into the mattress, prepared to go to bed. “So, if we’re talking experience wise, like a three star review?” He broke the quiet once more, causing both of you to fall into a fit of laughter.
“Mmm, I was thinking more of a five star, actually.” You pretended to ponder.
“Don’t stroke my ego, Picasso.” He dismissed the compliment.
“Maybe we’ll have to try it again sometime, then I can give a proper review.” You moved your hand under your shirt, too, resting it on top of his. He laced your fingers together, more than accepting of the contact.
“I think that would be quite alright.” He placed a kiss to your neck, just below your ear. It sent a shiver down your spine. “So it was good enough to make you want to do it again,” he noted. “I’ll have to put that one on my resume.” You laughed, shaking your head at his antics.
“Goodnight, piano man.” You said, finality in your voice. He propped himself up, trying his best to lean over you for another kiss. You turned your head back to meet his lips, much more confident in the action, now.
“Goodnight, Picasso.” He settled back in behind you, closing his eyes, too. “I can’t wait to take you to breakfast in the morning.” No more words were exchanged, but you both fell into a slumber with a permanent smile stuck on your lips.
510 notes · View notes
pucksandpower · 11 months
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Lewis Hamilton x Queen of Latin Music!Reader - Social Media AU
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lewishamilton posted a story
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yourusername
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Liked by lewishamilton, antonelaroccuzzo, and 2,746,583 others
yourusername temporada de fresas 🍓
(Translated from Spanish: strawberry season 🍓)
View all 18,096 comments
lewishamilton delicious
y/nupdates excuse me, sir???
lh44updates did you see what lewis posted on his story a few minutes before this?
y/nupdates oh my god 😵‍💫 if this is a coincidence, i’ll eat my hat
f1wagupdates no way it’s a coincidence because this is textbook soft launching
lh44updates imagine if they made the jam together?
f1wagupdates this might mean that they’re living together or at least staying over
latingossip “lewis” this, “hamilton” that … why is no one talking about the fact that this is directly shading her ex?
yourfanclub i love that y/n is sneakily calling ruiz out by using strawberry jam considering it’s sort of the reason why she broke up with him in the first place
y/nupdates it’s so poetic
yourfanclub especially taken into context with lewis’ story 🤭
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lewishamilton
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Liked by yourusername, neymarjr, and 2,941,685 others
lewishamilton Feeling beyond blessed on my birthday 🙏🏽 Thank you for filling my heart with love, joy, and the most incredible music. Here’s to another year of embracing the magic of life ❤️🎵
View all 17,328 comments
yourusername happy birthday, my love! you are a blessing in my life each and every day. i will always be eternally grateful for the endless love and happiness you bring into my heart
georgerussell63 THERE’S A SHE-WOLF IN THE CLOSET
charles_leclerc are you okay, mate?
georgerussell63 OPEN UP AND SET IT FREE (AH-OOH)
alex_albon he’s still a little starstruck
georgerussell63 THERE’S A SHE-WOLF IN THE CLOSET
landonorris i think the party broke him
georgerussell63 LET IT OUT SO IT CAN BREATHE
f1wagupdates they are finally official 👀
latingossip not like they’ve really tried to hide that they’re together but it’s definitely still nice to get confirmation
y/nupdates i hope everyone who got to see her perform appreciates how lucky they are 😭
yourfanclub i would have given my firstborn to be invited 🫣
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yourusername
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Liked by lewishamilton, badgalriri, and 9,852,416 others
yourusername “slipstream” with XNDA is out now! hope you guys love it ❤️
“slipstream” con XNDA disponible ya! espero les guste ❤️
View all 179,532 comments
lewishamilton my inspiration and motivation 😘
yourusername the reason my heart sings 🥰
f1wagupdates they’re actually the cutest
y/nupdates who is XNDA? his voice is so familiar but i’ve never heard of him before
hamilfan44 XNDA is just the stage name that lewis uses for his music
y/nupdates for real? he’s so talented!
lh44updates the fact that lewis used to be insecure about his rapping and now he’s proudly featured on a song with his girlfriend 🥹
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Comments
⤷ Wait … did I just hear that correctly? Did Lewis call Y/N his wife?
⤷ He said it so naturally that I didn’t even realize until you pointed it out 😳
⤷ It’s definitely a surprise but I absolutely love them together! They are so much happier with each other
⤷ This is a bombshell considering they never even officially announced they were engaged in the first place
⤷ Who can blame them for wanting to keep it private after so much of their lives has been aired to the public? This just goes to show that they are well and truly in love
⤷ I hope this means we continue to get more music collabs from them
yourusername and lewishamilton
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Liked by mercedesamgf1, billboard, and 12,586,734
yourusername and lewishamilton racing against the world, our love’s the finish line 💍
View all 183,625 comments
mercedesamgf1 congratulations to our favorite paddock couple! wishing you a lifetime of happiness and success together
georgerussell63 i’m not even mad because they’re my favorite paddock couple too
carmenmmundt honestly same
billboard congrats! we can’t wait to see the hamilton-y/l/n family expand (and by that we mean new music of course 😉)
f1wagupdates what do you know that we don’t?
lh44updates i’m not sure what i want more: for them to release a new song collab or for them to have the most adorable baby ever
y/nupdates why not both?
Liked by yourusername and lewishamilton
y/nupdates umm are you guys seeing this???
donatella_versace so stunning, my darlings! thank you for giving me the honor of designing your wedding dress (and roscoe’s tux) 🩷
formulanone when a dog gets to wear something that costs more than your rent 🫠
paddockstyle roscoe is a fashion icon just like his father
2K notes · View notes
rookthorne · 19 days
Text
⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲
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A venture to a club for a performance — the type that better suited the phrase ‘once in a lifetime’ — left you with far more than you could have ever anticipated for when you step out from the double, glass doors.
The secrets within the lustful atmosphere weighed on your own thoughts, as did the vivid imagery of what happened up on that stage: the drag of heated palms over your clothes and the whispered words of praise that would fuel your sinful dreams for a time.
Only, the source of your maladaptive daydreams waited for you outside.
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჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ꧖ Stripper!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ꧖ 7.9k
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ꧖ Fluff, extreme spicy tension, emphasised size difference (Bucky is huge and beefy as fuck in this), Russian!Protective!Bucky ჻჻჻ TROPES: Grumpy/Sunshine, Meet Cute ჻჻჻ KINKS: Praise, size
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ꧖ I have been waiting for the opportunity for over a year now to create this AU, and I had the push from @sgt-seabass' experience at a certain event that she so graciously shared with me... 😘 ꧖ A special thank you to a certain someone for their help with the Russian flirting... ꧖ I have to say that this Bucky was one of the hardest ones I have ever attempted — there were times I was so close to throwing in the towel. I am so glad I didn't. ꧖ It was so fucking hard to not add smut into this — I am determined to save that for a... special moment.
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 ꧖ It's A Man's World by Sevyn Streeter ꧖ greedy by Tate McRae ꧖ Soaked by Shy Smith ꧖ Crazy in Love by Beyoncé
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂 ꧖ @thevillainswhore — you were a literal saviour, baby, thank you so much for sticking with my stubborn ass through this. ꧖ And to quote her when she saw the tropes: MEET CUTE? YEAH, SOME FUCKING MEET CUTE! 🤭
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჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 ꧖ @buckybarnesevents Alternate June-iverse 𝗖𝟮 — Stripper AU — Masterlist ꧖ @buckybarnesevents Build a Bucky Bingo ჻჻჻ Teasing (January) —   Masterlist ꧖ @anyfandomfluffbingo 𝗢𝟰 — Nightclub AU — Masterlist ꧖ @anyfandomkinkbingo 𝗡𝟯 — Free Space — Masterlist
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𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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The crowded line around you bustled and shifted with excitement for what lay ahead in only — you checked your phone for the time — a few minutes. Double, glass doors artistically darkened would part to the masses, passes would be checked, and then you would be directed to and seated in your booked seats. 
“What do you think they’ll be like up close?” your friend asked from next to you, their arm looped around yours to stay close. “What about–”
“Let’s just hope we get to see him,” you reminded your friend. “He’s kept a secret for a reason, no one knows if he’ll be at a show until he is there—part of his mysterious charm, I guess.”
As a birthday present from your accompanying friend, you were given a set of tickets to see a coveted show by the Howling Commandos — a group consisting of a few men and their host, Natalia, travelling through the states of your home country and performing risqué dances on a dimly lit stage to a crowd of howling women (and a few men, too). 
That wasn’t what you were there for, however. 
Within the ranks of the performers that made up Howling Commandos, was a man built like a God — from what you had seen on their social media, you learned that he was called Sarge. He had jaw length, dark brown hair, and piercing, slate grey eyes. 
Not much could be parsed from his lack of information — it wasn’t abnormal to be a private performer, it was part of the allure and to gain profit, you suspected, but there was next to nothing known of the brooding mountain of a man that commanded such a presence on the stage that he was only brought out for the biggest of shows. 
It was a little disheartening, if you were honest, that your particular show wouldn’t be classed among the bigger crowds — the likelihood of Sarge even being in the roster of performers was slim. 
“I don’t know,” you mumbled, glancing around the gathered crowd. “I just– I hope we get to see him. Have you seen the way he dances?”
“Oh, yeah,” they replied. A strange, teasing smirk pulled at the corner of their lips, and it made you nervous for some inexplicable reason. “I’m hopeful too, babe—turn that frown upside down, it’s your birthday!”
You managed a small nod and smile in reply. 
Not even a moment later, the doors before you parted, opening in a wide arc to reveal a provocatively dressed woman, a staff member of the ensemble. The bass of the music from within the nightclub pounded in your chest, and your heart skipped a beat as you handed the worker your joint passes — they flashed a wolfish smile and gestured you inside. 
“She was hot.” 
You snorted at your friend’s blunt commentary, though you nodded in agreement. The woman was dressed in what you could only describe as a modest corset and fishnets, topped off only with platform heels and an updo that would make a nineteen-forties housewife jealous. 
The interior of the club was remarkably different to the outside. From the blackened windows, you could still see the dimmed glow of the neon’s that lined the outer signs and gutters of the building, but within the establishment, it was a much softer, moodier atmosphere. 
Couches made of plush, burgundy velvet were lining booths and tables alike, while stools and tables made up the middle of the floor with a few stylistic chairs thrown among the mix. A stage, high off of the floor by at least four feet, lined the furthest and widest wall from the entrance. 
Curtains covered the back of the wall, a combination of blacks, deep reds, and purples making up the canvas of a backdrop. 
The music that played over the speaker sounded familiar, and you strained your ears to decipher the song — a classic for a club hosting a stripping event, with a sultry beat that made your skin prickle. 
“Well, well, hello there, vozlyublennyy,” a voice suddenly called from the stage. 
Your gaze snapped towards the source, and you found a woman standing right at the edge. Black leather met fire-red hair and lipstick; her mouth was curled in a wicked, sultry smile that turned your insides to jelly. The heels she wore made her as tall as a Goddess, and she bent her knees to squat down to better look at you. “Aren’t you pretty?”
“Oh, god,” you whined, hiding your face in your friend’s shoulder. They laughed at your shame. “C’mon, that’s not funny–”
“It is, sweetheart,” the woman cooed, and she offered you her hand to shake; blood red nails turned her porcelain skin paler, and she had a single, silver ring on her thumb. “Natalia—pleasure to meet you.”
You offered your name and your hand, only, she kissed your knuckles and left behind a stain of red lipstick. 
Natalia tilted her head as she looked at your friend. “Interesting… very interesting.” Before you could question her statement, the leather of her pants creaked with the movement of her standing tall. “Why don’t you come take a seat over here for me?”
The chairs she pointed to were placed in the VIP section. Your heart thundered against your ribs with trepidation. “But–”
“Aw, thanks!” your friend cried, far too enthusiastically. The grip they had on your arm was iron tight, and you had no choice but to follow the direction they frog marched you in — straight towards the seats that screamed opulence. 
“What are you doing– We– You didn’t pay for these?” you rushed, watching your friend sit beside you in the booth. On the centre table was a bucket of ice and a bottle of champagne, a tray of hors d'oeuvres beside it. “The fuck is this?”
“Just don’t think about it, babe,” they replied nonchalantly. A sample of food popped into their mouth, and they made an appreciative noise. 
The sudden, mysterious determination of your friend set you on edge and made your stomach coil with anxiety. You could not figure out what they were up to, let alone having acquired such tickets to sit so close to the stage, and you realised with one hell of a start, if you reached a hand out from your set, the tips of your fingers brushed the very edge of the platform. 
People began to take their seats with ushers directing them, and you took the opportunity to take in the interior again — a large bar was bordered by glass shelves stocked full of liquor, from whiskey to vodka, all the way to tequila. 
While you stared around the space, the lights began to dim even further until you could barely see the stage. 
“Hello, hello, all of my minxes,” Natalia said, her honeyed voice blanketing the crowd and kicking up the anticipation in the air by several degrees. Spotlights suddenly illuminated her figure on the stage, and you gasped at the sight — black leather pants accentuated her thighs and hips, and the dip of her corset in the harsh light was anything but modest. The red curls you admired moments ago sat over her shoulders. 
The crowd cheered and whooped with her appearance; she took a bow. “Thank you all for the very warm welcome, darlings,” she cooed, the slight rasp of her Russian accent making her tone sensual. “Tonight is, as you know, a very special night.” 
Her heels clicked over the stage as she strolled leisurely back and forth, holding the entire focus and attention of the patrons in her manicured hand. “We have ventured from far and wide to come here tonight. So it is of both of our benefits if I allow the boys to start the show, but first,” she said, coming to a halt in the middle of the stage. “Some house rules.”
You listened while Natalia listed off the do’s and don'ts for the evening — most of which you couldn’t believe had to be even mentioned. “Some people are pieces of work,” you muttered to your friend. They snorted a laugh and nodded in agreement.
“And with all that out of the way,” Natalia sang, and she tilted her head to search through the crowd. Her hazel-green eyes landed on you — something behind that playful gaze caused a shiver to run down your spine. “I present, Falcon.”
The show that Falcon put on toed the line in so many instances that the room felt like a sauna — a few women were using their leaflets to fan themselves. You watched with heat adorning your cheeks as he bowed to the crowd, then dashed off stage, opposite to where Natalia appeared once more. 
Her sensual smile seemed to invigorate the crowd even more, and they whistled as she slunk to the very front of the stage as the music began an interlude. “I’m sure Falcon would not have minded a louder cheer, darlings,” she purred, arching a perfectly manicured brow. 
An uproar of cries and screams made her laugh from her perch on stage. “That was much better, excellent.” Her heels clicked over the platform as she strutted back and forth, back and forth — if she were a cat, you suspected her tail would be twitching with the anticipation of cornering her prey. “Our next performer is a crowd favourite, and he is eagerly awaiting his turn behind the curtain–”
“Hurry up, Nat,” a deep voice said from behind the barrier of cloth.
The cackle of laughter Natalia replied with sent a thrill down your spine. “Easy—be a good boy now, Nomad.”
A blond head of hair that belonged to no other than the infamous Nomad appeared between the split of fabric, and he glared at Natalia with a playful heat that only made her laugh harder. 
The appearance of him roused the crowd, and for good measure, he winked at a few patrons. “Come on out then, boy,” Natalia teased. “They seem to want you—we must give them a show.” 
Nothing prepared you for the intensity of Nomad’s set. The sensual movements and choreography of his routine was mesmerising, and you often found yourself staring into his face as opposed to his body; those eyes never left the woman he danced over, a depth to them something only a lover would achieve. 
By the time Nomad took a bow and strode off stage, your heart was jammed in your throat and your mind was flitting with dreams you only hoped would manifest while you slept. It was only early, though. The tickets stated clearly this show would run for at least another hour, if not longer — you looked to your friend whose attention was wholly fixated on the stage. “What are they–”
“Ah, darlings,” Natalia called, cutting you off, and an unnatural hush fell over the crowd. Some kind of electricity shot through the patrons like a lightning strike, anticipation heavy in the air. “You must think that tonight must be over—it is only early, I assure you, the night is young!”
There were a few hollers in reply. 
“You need not fret. We have another surprise for you all,” she soothed. Her boots shone in the spotlight as she stalked to the front of the stage, and she squatted in place. Dark eyes met yours, and your breath hitched at the way she seemed to see through you. 
Music swelled and pounded against your ear drums, the deep bass of it taking the rhythm of your heart and twisting it to its own beat. The lights dimmed and turned red, casting Natalia’s silhouette over the crowd. 
“Please, welcome our very own soldier,” she purred.
A dark figure came out from behind the curtains and loomed over Natalia, even in her high heeled stilettos. They wore a cap to obscure their face; a jacket bulked their frame and covered a red henley, the first and second button unclasped to show the rounded neck of a black shirt. 
No matter what they wore, there was no mistaking who just stepped onto the stage, and you felt what little control you had over your body slip through your fingers like sand. 
Beside you, your friend grabbed your arm and shook it, squealing excitedly. “Oh, he’s here!”
You blinked, covering your open mouth with a hand — either to clasp your jaw shut or hide your surprise, you couldn’t decide. 
“Well, hello there, Sarge,” Natalia greeted, and she circled him; each click of her heels loud against the floor. “I think we have a few voyeurs excited to see you.” 
Sarge raised his head to observe the crowd, eyes sharp and bright under the red light. “Da, you would be right,” he said, face passive and void of any emotion. “I better get started then.” 
The fabric hugging his chest wrinkled with a sudden roll of his shoulders, and he moved his neck side to side — a physical show of his strength that made the crowd squeal and shriek. 
He did not even react. 
That same passive stare observed the crowd before he glanced at Natalia. “Ubiraysya otsyuda, Natalia.” 
Manicured nails brushed over her forehead while she saluted in farewell. “Have fun.”
“I can’t believe this,” you whispered in shock. The flood of heat that warmed your neck crawled its way up to your cheeks; suddenly unbearably warm while the lights overhead dimmed. 
The vision of him on stage was otherworldly — nothing could compare, not even the videos and pictures uploaded to social media of his performances or press. Even his accent was stronger, deeper in person. He towered on stage with his mere presence, let alone his astounding height. 
A few patrons whistled and called for him to start, but he merely threw them a heated stare that forced them to quieten down. The respect he commanded made your stomach flutter with nerves. 
Next to you, you felt the seat cushion shift, and your friend leaned closer to whisper in your ear, “Happy birthday, babe.”
You blinked and looked at them with wide eyes. “What–?” 
They nodded towards the stage. Confused and unable to repress the nervous shiver of being watched, you looked towards the raised platform, just as steel-grey eyes met yours. Sarge had searched the crowd like a famished wolf, and the hunger in his gaze reflected as such. 
All of the breath in your lungs escaped in one fell swoop, the exhale turning into a squeak of shock that was not dignified. “Oh, oh,” you whimpered, moving back in your seat until your back was against the plush cushioning. “You didn’t– Oh no—no, I can’t–”
The frantic pleas turned to breathless whines when Sarge smirked at you; a slight quirk of his full, pink lips that froze the world around you. His handsome features came into full view with the sudden beam of a spotlight, and you took them in — a sharp jawline that would cut glass, paired with a straight nose above perfect lips. There was a light dusting of stubble over his jaw that offset the dark brown locks that fell to his neck. 
People in the crowd caught onto who he was staring at, and they began to whoop in encouragement. 
A gloved hand raised to halt the noise. “A little bird told me that tonight was someone’s birthday,” Sarge said, still staring straight at you. The slack in your jaw was almost painful. “And for the birthday girl, I have a surprise.”
“What,” you blurted.
Small giggles punctuated your stunned silence, the sudden hysterics of your friend almost made it all the more unbearable. The clarity that came with the sudden reveal hit you like a speeding truck on a highway, the mysterious change of seats; how Natalia picked them out from the crowd. 
You turned to stare at them heatedly. “You did this?”
A sludge formed in your stomach when they nodded. 
“I can’t, I can’t– Oh, god,” you gasped, overwhelmed with the sheer amount of emotion that coursed through you. “I can’t go up there!”
The doubt only gave rise to a sense of confliction — some small part of you yearned to take that stage by storm and have a dream become true, the other, however, wanted to crawl into a ball from the shame of such exposure. 
“Yeah, you can,” your friend said, and they gripped your hand. “You’re going to go up there and have the time of your life—don’t let your fear steal this from you.” 
Lights around the room dimmed entirely, casting the stage into darkness. Over the pounding of your heart, you could hear the heavy thump of boots over wood, then a solid shadow loomed at the edge of the stage; sans cap, and hair flowing loose down his neck, the few strands that covered his face brought to life the impulse to tuck them behind his ear. 
“If it truly makes you uncomfortable, I will leave you be,” Sarge offered. The gravelly tone of his voice made you gulp compulsively from a sudden dry mouth. 
He squatted in place, the toes of his boots right on the edge of the platform — you couldn’t help but notice the tightness of his jeans around his thighs. “Otherwise, darling,” he continued quietly, “Allow me.” A gloved hand appeared in your vision, and he smiled softly at you.
“I– Oh, fucking,” you rambled, unable to take hold of his hand. “I can’t–”
“She will,” your friend interrupted, and Sarge glanced at them — his expression had turned passive once more. “She just needs some encouragement.”
“Oh?” Sarge replied, a curious lilt to his accent. He stared at you. “That I can offer.”
The squeak of his boots sounded when he rose to his feet. His looming height only made your heart beat faster and faster against the confines of your throat — you watched his back and shoulders move as he strode back towards the curtains. 
The crowd was in titters of anticipation for the beginning of the show. 
And to your utter astonishment, Sarge turned on the spot to face you, and started to shed the jacket he wore all while maintaining eye contact — a spell you could not break, no matter how hard you could have tried, you did not want to. 
Your jaw ached with the way it fell open in awe once the outer layer of his clothes were removed, leaving him in just his henley and undershirt; jeans hugged his thighs far more prominently now the baggier layer didn’t hide his frame. 
“Go on,” your friend whispered, pushing you sideways on your seat to the edge. 
“Ah, nyet,” Sarge barked, pointing at your friend. “Let me try to convince moya malen'kaya kukla.”
The seamless transition to his mother tongue made a small, quiet moan fall from your lips before you could bite back the impulse. Sarge, ever the cunning wolf, seemed to have heard it, regardless of the crowd of impatient patrons.
You watched as his index finger beckoned you, a come-hither motion that set the last of your reserved dignity to cinders. 
“Idi syuda, viksen,” Sarge called. “Come here. Kneel at my feet.”
The pit of your stomach fell through the floor, much like your jaw, and as though you were bewitched, you rose from your seat to whoops and cheers; rounds of applause that could not be heard over the thunderous roar of blood in your ears. 
Sarge stood on the stage, his eyes fixed on you with such intent it turned your knees to jelly, and as you reached the small set of stairs to the side of the stage platform, he moved towards you and offered a gloved hand to help you up. 
“Here, darling,” Sarge said softly. One hand held yours while you navigated the steep steps, the other was placed on your lower back when you reached the solid and suddenly very large platform. 
Under the guise of directing you, he leaned in close enough for the heat of his breath to be felt on the shell of your ear. “If it becomes too much for you to take—what I am about to do,” he clarified at your startled squeak. “You must tap my arm thrice, like this.” The soft tap of his finger against your arm was insistent and firm. “Understood, da?”
“Y–Yeah, yes,” you replied breathlessly, nodding once. “I– Okay.”
Sarge dipped his head low and grinned, so only you would see. “Khoroshaya devochka, lyubimyy.”
The music swelled and trembled the floor before you could even reply to his quip, and he looked around the stage. “Hmm, over there, I am thinking,” he said quietly, and then you were moved towards the other end of the stage, his hand still holding yours. “Are you ready, darling?”
You blinked, then hesitated a brief second. Sarge picked up on the swirling anxiety that viciously swarmed your mind and body. “Remember, you need only tap my arm three times and it stops. I will signal to Natashka, then she will take you to a quiet room to soothe you.”
“Well, there’s a back up plan, just in case,” you mumbled. 
A small smile danced on Sarge’s lips again, the same one that he held only for you back at your seat. “There will always be precautions,” he said, his voice thick with the accent of his mother tongue. It was endearing and you couldn’t help but feel drawn to him for how nonsensical and calming his mere presence was — quite the opposite for what you would expect of a performer. “Besides, I do not want to frighten such a beautiful woman.”
“Oh–”
“Kneel, viksen,” Sarge commanded suddenly. You jumped in fright and fell to your knees with little hesitation — the rushed action made Sarge smirk. “Well done, darling.” Leather caressed your jaw, then your chin, and his hand tilted your head up to look into his face. When your gaze met his, he winked and licked his bottom lip before he silently mouthed, “I am starting now.”
His consideration swelled far more than your heart.
A loud voice called over the speakers, “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s make some noise for Sarge!”
The crowd roared a few decibels below deafening. 
You watched in the sudden, dimmed lighting as Sarge turned back around and headed straight towards where he stood when he beckoned you on stage. His head was held high while he looked over the stage, and a spotlight caught his profile, sending it into sharp relief against the backdrop of crimson and purples. 
Sarge’s beauty was unmatched by any model or actor. His side profile alone was enough to make a small, unbidden whimper fall from your lips. 
The leather gloves that covered his hands were pulled off, exposing the skin beneath — swirls of ink lined the back of his hands, while a few patterns stretched artfully down some of his fingers. As for the rest of the artistry that you assumed decorated his body, it was covered by the red henley and black undershirt, let alone the jeans that hugged his thighs. 
His heated gaze fell on you as he turned to stand directly opposite you — his feet shoulder width apart and his head tilted to the side so strands of dark hair fell over his cheek and jaw. 
From within the crowd, you could just decipher the calls from your friend, and their encouraging cries fuelled your bravery — a blessing in disguise, for Sarge held out his hand and beckoned you towards him, just as he had done to get you on the stage in the first place. 
Oh, fuck, you thought.
Instinctually, or foolishly, you placed your hands past your knees and onto the stage, then lifted off of your knees — everything in your body screamed arousal at such a dominant move. “Oh, fuck, fuck,” you mumbled at the ground. “I’m really doing this.”
Yeah, you are, the voice replied in your mind — it sounded familiarly like your friend that watched on. 
One hand moved forward, followed by a knee; the other hand mimicked the firsts, then your other knee followed suit. The hard surface dug into your knees and palms, but you paid no mind to the subtle ache, your gaze too homed in upon the man that stood watching you crawl to him. 
Sarge’s eyes bled from blue to black in the dimmed light, and he grinned; all teeth that shone white. 
At last, you met the halfway point between your starting position, and where he watched on, when he held up a hand to halt your crawl. You sat back on your haunches and stared at him, eyes widening while he strolled forward — all the while grabbing the hem of his henley and undershirt, pulling it up to expose a deep, defined v-line. 
The crowd moaned and screamed in unison, but it was a dull roar of noise over your mind’s insistent parade of what it would be like to kiss the skin of his hip; how tense his muscles could get in the throes of passion. 
Before you could even shake yourself from that particular vision, you blinked and Sarge stood right in front of you — his very exposed hip within reach, if only you just leaned forward–
“Go on, detka,” Sarge purred, tapping the skin above the belt loop next to his zipper. And the bastard teased, “You want to, I can see it.” The impulse consumed you like a forest fire, and your lips met the heated skin in a chaste kiss. “Good girl.”
There was no discerning the patrons cheers any longer, the continued shouts and cheers of their voices melded into one, constant noise. 
His fingers deftly worked the belt clasp, and you realised with an audible gasp that the black leather was branded with an inscription that sent a dull, aching throb to your cunt — Sarge’s Girl was decorated with silver filigree and a bold, full star on either side of the words. The buckle clinked as he pulled it free, then the strap where the text sat was pushed towards your parted lips. 
“Open,” Sarge ordered, and you complied without a second thought. 
His thumb brushed over your cheekbone, and he stepped back slowly, leaving his belt between your teeth. The heavy fall of his boots copied your heartbeat, the pounding rhythm sent your head into a spell of dizziness you wanted more of. 
Your lips moved over the strap while your tongue tasted the earthy tones of treated leather; something you needed more of.
The leather dangled down your front, the end of it resting in front of your knees — Sarge tilted his chin up, looking down at you with an unreadable expression, as though he was contemplating something. 
It all fell away — the sounds, the smells, the tastes when he kneeled down on one knee in front of you, eyes bright with a sense of mischief, and a smirk that rivalled the devil’s. “Let go,” he said, holding around the strap of his belt, right next to your cheek. 
You bit down on the leather with a playful growl, and Sarge smirked as he pulled against your grip gently. “Give it back to me, devochka, before I tame the brat in you for all to see.” Shock flooded your system and forced your jaw to be lax around the hard leather. “Ah, there we go, Viksen. Arms out, wrists together for me.”
Your actions fell on autopilot to obey, and you stuck out your arms, wrists together, just as he asked for. He hummed and looped the belt around them, careful of the tightness of the leather against your skin. “Now, down.”
His hands moved you back onto all fours, the gentle grip of his hands while he did so sent a cacophony of butterflies to soar wildly in your stomach. The leather toes of his boots were all you could see when he got to his feet before, the deep, red henley fell to the floor a second later. 
“Give it up for our Sarge!” That same announcer voice called over the speakers, and the crowd did not disappoint. 
Warmth spread over your waist, and you realised it was both of Sarge’s hands feeling down your sides — one boot disappeared, then thudded as it landed on your other side. 
He was standing over you– Oh, fuck, you almost gasped aloud. 
A sharp, loud shriek fell from your lips with the sudden change of altitude — in the blink of an eye, Sarge had lifted you with both his arms around your waist. Your legs were draped over his shoulders, and his face brushed against your navel from the sudden proximity. 
You could feel one hand splayed over the middle of your back to steady your frame and prevent you from falling backwards, though it did nothing to alleviate the rush of adrenaline through your body at suddenly being held in the air, with your thighs either side of his head, by one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen in your life. 
“Oh my god!” You scrambled to grab at his neck before you could master the impulse, and all you felt was the soft, brown locks of his hair in your fingertips. There was a hot breath on your stomach through your shirt, and the broad shoulders that held you so securely in the air shook up and down — Sarge was laughing at your fear, the bastard. “What–!”
Sarge’s other hand that was held to the side in a show of strength, brushed over the seat of your pants before he squeezed. The contact sent a rush of heat through the whole of your body as you realised just how close to your cunt his mouth was in conjunction with his hand on your ass. 
The crowd was still whooping when he fell to one knee and twisted in place, so you lay across the stage — his hands wandered from your back to your knees. You could only see the wicked, hungry grin on his mouth when he peered around your calves; he arched a brow and licked his lips, carelessly fuelling the fire between your thighs. 
Your wrists rubbed against the leather strap of his belt, and you subconsciously whined — you wanted to touch, to feel his strength under your fingertips. 
“Easy, darling,” Sarge purred. “You will have your fill, obeshchayu.”
The buckle of his belt clattered to the floor with surprising speed, though you didn’t have time to linger on the newfound freedom — Sarge’s slow thrusts against the back of your thighs made a dizzy spell hit you with such force you almost passed out right then and there. “Sarge–! Fuck.”
“Not yet,” he rasped back. 
You squeaked and looked down at him with widened eyes — the black of his pupils painted over the grey, bleeding profusely over the once calming seas of his irises. 
All of your insides squirmed and vanished with the heat of his stare, and before you could even blink yourself back to reality, you were sitting in a chair on the stage with Sarge in front of you. His stature loomed over you and blocked out the patrons that cheered behind him — feet shoulder width apart and hands on your cheeks to tilt your head up. 
The gentleness of his hold replaced the fire in your veins with an unexplainable adoration. 
“Lyubimyy, are you with me?” 
“Yeah– Yes, I am, just–” You stammered, blinking fast. “I got a bit flustered.”
Sarge grinned. “I know—it was sweet. So easy to entrance, hmm?” 
“Hey–!” 
“I joke, darling,” he teased. “I am almost done with you. I know you are eager to join your friend again.”
The music swelled over the speakers, the beat and bass reverberating deep in your chest — it didn’t feel like you were on the stage of one of the most prolific nightclubs of your city with a stripper performing with you, let alone talking to you in such a tone of hunger. 
You had watched all of Sarge’s performances reverently, far more than you would ever admit, and never before did he treat a patron to such intimacy. 
His press gave the same impression of stoic and blithe interest. Never one to talk unless questioned — Sarge was a quiet one, but yet, here he was, speaking to you with a reverence of what you’d expect from a lover.
Something tugged and pulled in your stomach with that particular realisation. 
“Are you ready?” Sarge asked quietly, leaning in close while still moving his body to keep the crowd entertained. His eyes were clear and narrowed in on your features, darting from your eyes to your parted lips. “I will stop if you are overwhelmed–”
“No, no,” you rushed, and you reached for him on instinct — a reassuring, grounding presence the beacon you didn’t know you needed. “I’m okay, please.”
“As you wish, viksen,” he replied. “Follow my lead.”
The skin of his palms felt rough over your own hands, and he guided them to his chest, covered only by the dark undershirt — you realised it was a tank as opposed to a shirt. He turned on the spot and fell to his knees, boots tucked beneath the seat you were perched on, and his hands guided yours to the neckline of his shirt. 
“We’re in the final stretch,” the announcer called over the cheering crowd. “Let’s give it up one last time for Sarge!”
Your fingers were squeezed by Sarge’s palms, the grip firm as he pressed your hands into his chest while manipulating the thin cloth into your fist. He looked at you over his shoulder with a sly smirk. “Have your fill, darling—pull.”
The fabric tore away with ease under the combined efforts of Sarge’s strength and your hands — black cloth revealed a chest covered in artistry, rippling with the movement of guiding you to strip his chest bare. 
A small moan fell from your lips and into his ear. 
“Settle,” he murmured back with a wide smirk. 
You gulped while he turned his head to look out into the crowd, and the smirk he threw you morphed into a grin while he slowly moved his hips back and forth — a show far too intimate, but you could not look away. The low position of his beltless jeans left little to the imagination. 
“Now you can return to your friend,” Sarge said lowly, helping you up from your seat while your legs shook. “You took it so well, darling. Come.” His warm hands guided you to the edge of the stage, where the stairs were situated, and he took each step down with you. 
Your heart thundered and skipped the longer he stayed beside you, and finally, he helped you to your seat before moving your hand to his lips. A soft kiss brushed against your knuckles, and he smiled softly. “Goodbye, viksen.”
You watched him turn back around to walk back up the stairs, the muscles of his back and shoulders tensing and rippling with each step, and the time passed in a daze from that moment onwards. 
Through the hazed lust, you barely acknowledged your friend who welcomed you back to the table with eager chitters and whispered demands after Sarge disappeared from the stage through the side exit. 
The feel of his hands on you lingered, even after the soft touches of him guiding you back to the sanctuary of your occupied booth, and you found you didn’t want that sensation to ever leave. 
The last of the performers dwindled on stage while patrons shuffled around to gather their belongings. It wasn’t often that the Howling Commandos lingered at a venue, given they were a sought after group of performers, they often had tours that were demanding beyond reason — though it was different this time. 
After following them for so long, it was rumoured and then later confirmed on social media, that this show was the last for them for some time — no one knew for sure how long their rest would last, but it was well deserved regardless. 
It was how you found yourself bouncing on the balls of your feet in anticipation beside the stage. Nomad, Falcon, and Natalia were mingling amongst the crowd for photo opportunities for the lucky few who purchased the extra bonus of a meet and greet. 
You were not unfortunately one of the few, as much as you wish you were — the treat of being brought on stage was already too much for you to cope with and process. 
The sound of footsteps of giggles emanated from your left, and you glanced over to find your friend on the approach. “You good?”
“Yep,” they said, popping the ‘p’. “Let’s go get some drinks!”
“But–” You tried to protest, but it was of no use — the grip your friend had on your arm was tighter than a vice as they dragged you out of the door and into the street. The night life of the strip of nightclubs was wildly alive with partying crowds and drunkards stumbling all over the place. “Oh, hell. Do we have to?”
They looked from left to right with a tight grimace pulling their expression taut. “I mean, no– Oh.” A scarily menacing smirk danced on their lips, and just as they opened their mouth to speak, they were cut off by a shout.
“Viksen!”
You whipped around to search for the source, when your mouth fell open in shock. Down the closest alleyway, leaning against the brick wall of the club he just danced in, was Sarge — a freshly lit cigarette dangled from his lips while the rings on some of his fingers glinted from a flickering streetlight opposite where he stood. 
The black V-neck shirt and leather jacket bulked his frame even more than the hooded get up he wore for his performance, and he still wore those tight jeans and boots. 
Smoke billowed from his mouth and nose while he threw the cigarette to the pavement, where he scuffed the lit end with the toe of his boot. “I never thought I would see you after the show,” he called, and he strode forwards, hands tucked into his jacket pockets. “It seems luck is on my side tonight.” 
The closer he came, the more your insides melted — while he looked nothing like he did while he performed, he still exuded a lethal confidence that cut your resolve to shreds, and that smile of his didn’t help, not one bit. 
Your friend suddenly gripped your arm and rushed, "I just remembered I'm staying with a friend tonight. Can you make it back home safe?"
“I–”
Sarge stepped closer and tilted his head. The passive line of his mouth while he looked at your friend smoothly changed into a softened smile when he met your gaze. “I will take you home, darling—if you would like?”
The pocket of his jacket chimed with the sound of keys. “I did not park far from the club, and I do not tend to enjoy…” He looked back towards the club where his fellow performers lingered behind. “I prefer to selectively spend my time with those I choose.” 
“Well–”
Brown strands of hair fell forward as he looked to the floor, his posture turning open with the sudden show of bashfulness, and under his breath he spoke, “Ideal'noy byla by kompaniya krasivoy zhenshchiny, a ne etikh idiotov.”
You swallowed around the slither of fear that clutched your stomach in a vice — being alone with the man you were beginning to form a crush on was not ideal, not without preparation or a wing– 
From the corner of your eyes, you saw your friend staring at you pointedly with wide eyes. Go with it, they urged, unspoken and greedily. 
A deep breath rose your shoulders shakily. “Yeah, that– That would be nice,” you replied softly. “I, uh– I don’t live too far away.”
Sarge looked up with a blindingly bright smile, and it made your stomach flip and riot in place. “Good—that is good.” He looked at your friend again — you couldn’t help but feel heartened by the plain stare he gave them. “Do you have a way to get to your friend’s home?”
“I’ll call a cab.”
“I will wait with you,” Sarge said, and he set his shoulders. “I cannot leave you without knowing you will get there safely.”
“A real gentleman,” your friend teased while their fingers flew over the screen of their phone. To your horror, they glanced up at you and smirked. “I like him.”
The air rushed from your lungs in a shocked exhale while Sarge moved inexplicably closer at the statement, his arm brushing against yours in a feather light touch. He didn’t move to rebuke their words, nor did he make any noise of acknowledgement; eyes intently scanning the surrounding crowds as he would if he were guarding something precious.
It was a comfortable silence that stretched between the three of you while you waited curb side for your friend’s lift to arrive — a surprise that you would chew them out for endlessly later, but you were nonetheless nervous to be left alone with the mountain of a man beside you. 
Passersby paid no mind to you as you waited there, surreptitiously shuffling your feet in place to inch closer towards Sarge. The warmth he emanated drew you in and you couldn’t resist the temptation to just be close — no matter the people around you, or the way your friend kept flickering their knowing gaze to you, a slight smirk still playing on their lips. 
“Oh, here we are,” they said suddenly, their head turned towards the road where a car was starting to pull up. “My ride—perfect timing.” 
Sarge moved forward and opened the back door wordlessly, inclining his head in farewell but uttering no words in their parting. You hugged them goodbye and tucked your chin into the juncture of their neck and shoulder. In your ear, they whispered, “Be safe, have fun; wear protection.” 
“Come on,” you hissed, pulling your lip up in a grimace. “That’s not fair–”
They hugged you tighter, not allowing you to pull back from their embrace. “Have you seen the way he looks at you? The way he offered to take you home?” 
You hesitated, but you truly could not see how it was any more than just friendly interaction. “No…”
“Enjoy his attention, babe,” they said softly, rubbing their hands up and down your back. “Just text me when you get in his car and then again when you get home. I want to know how he kisses you.”
Before you could scold them again, they pulled back and skipped to the open door of their lift. They looked up at Sarge and smiled. “Take care of my girl, yeah?”
“She will be safe,” Sarge replied simply. “I would not let anyone hurt her.”
Heat flooded your stomach and crawled up your neck while Bucky shut the door gently behind them. Through the tinted window, your friend waved goodbye, and you did the same as they were taken away; swept to their own respite and leaving you to fend for yourself against the butterflies that ran riot through your whole body. 
The car’s tail lights disappeared around the corner at the other end of the street, and with it, your courage. It was suddenly overwhelmingly nerve wracking to be standing there next to Sarge, the cold breeze of the night biting through your poor excuse of warmth as an outfit. Your arms moved to automatically cradle your front, your hands gripping your biceps, when Sarge spoke, “Are you cold, darling?”
You blinked and met his gaze. “No, no, I’m okay,” you lied.
Sarge tilted his head, the strands of dark hair brushing against his cheek and brow. “You are not a very good liar.”
The words were said in such a deadpan statement it made a laugh erupt from you, and that made a smirk pull at Sarge’s lips — one that he reserved for only you. “Alright, yeah, I’m a bit cold–”
You couldn’t even finish your admission before a jacket — Sarge’s leather jacket — appeared in front of you. “Here, it will keep you warm. I cannot allow you to be in any discomfort, not if I am able to prevent it.”
“But–” You tried to protest, looking at him with widened eyes. What you wouldn’t give to wear that jacket, be enveloped in his warmth and distinct scent that filled your senses to lift you off your feet, but then he would– “But you’ll get cold too!”
Sarge narrowed his eyes and frowned. “Takaya upryamaya zhenshchina.” The gravel of his voice sent a shiver entirely unrelated to the sudden chill down your spine. “YA tebya obozhayu.”
“Hey, I don’t speak Russian,” you whined, pouting at him. “What did you say?”
Sarge only chuckled and shook his head while he placed the jacket gently over your shoulders, prompting you silently to slip your arms into the sleeves. “Never you mind, Malen'kaya Lisa.”
“Stubborn asshole,” you teased half-heartedly, though you burrowed into his jacket with a hum of contentment. 
“Me?” Sarge laughed, and he took a single step back after adjusting the collar to better sit on your smaller frame. “How am I stubborn when you are shivering and refuse– Ay, moy bog, you are too adorable.” 
The way his eyes brightened as he looked down at you suddenly hit you hard — the force of it leaving you breathless. Maybe your friend was right… “So,” you began nervously, and your hands fidgeted with the cuffs of his jacket.
Sarge smiled softly. “I did not introduce myself.” 
“You don’t go by Sarge–”
“Nyet,” he laughed again. “No, darling. That is the name for the stage—only for my performances.”
“Oh.” The warmth from his jacket suddenly grew overwhelming with your embarrassment. “I didn’t–”
“Do not worry, Malen’kaya Lisa.” Sarge grabbed your hand and moved the cuff of his jacket from the back of it, where he placed a soft kiss. “My friends call me Bucky, if you so wish– Actually,” he paused for a second, then, “Please, call me James. Sarge and Bucky are for everyone else—vy zasluzhivayete chego to svoyego sobstvennogo.”
“I have no idea what you just said,” you replied with a nervous chitter wavering in your voice. “But, okay, James—nice to finally meet you.” The smile James gave you when you offered him your name made the butterflies ditch the fluttering riot for absolute pandemonium. 
“Let me take you home, darling.” James took a step closer. His arm went around your shoulders. You let out a breath when you were pulled into his side — the comfort of being so close enveloped you, and “First, I would like to accompany you for a stroll. The night is young, viksen.”
You couldn’t help the snort of laughter at his words, and the blinding smile you received in return lit you from the inside out — you would do anything to see it again. “Are you trying to be old fashioned?”
James looked at you with a quirked brow. “Did it not work?”
“Maybe it did.”
“Nu, krasivaya devushka.” He leaned in close, his lips dancing over your temple, where he placed a soft kiss. The hot gust of his breath tickled your ear. “Allow me the pleasure of you on my arm for the evening.”
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vozlyublennyy = beloved ubiraysya otsyuda = get out of here moya malen'kaya kukla = my little doll idi syuda, viksen = come here, vixen khoroshaya devochka, lyubimyy = good girl, darling detka = baby obeshchayu = I promise ideal'noy byla by kompaniya krasivoy zhenshchiny, a ne etikh idiotov = company of a beautiful woman would be perfect, rather than those idiots takaya upryamaya zhenshchina = such a stubborn woman ya tebya obozhayu = I adore it Malen'kaya Lisa = Little Fox moy bog = my god vy zasluzhivayete chego to svoyego sobstvennogo = you deserve something of your own nu, krasivaya devushka = well, pretty girl
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🤭
⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁
⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁
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won4ver · 2 months
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✈︎ the morning dancers songbird
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After a song mixup and the threat of being disqualified Nishimura Riki thought that he’d lost the opportunity he’s been waiting on for years. With the opportunity hanging by a thread, you came rushing in like a songbird, singing your song and saving his team.
pairing : dancer!Riki x singer!fem!reader
warnings + genres : fluff. a small bit of tears mentioned. highschool au.
wc : 1.18
a/n : the song is confident by justin beiber
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Riki could feel his heartbeat in his palms, sweat accumulating as the words from the backstage crew echoed through his head. He opened his mouth to say something, anything at all, but his words were trapped in his throat.
He became hyperaware of his team’s actions, half of them arguing with the event manager whilst the others were close to breaking down, their silence louder than the screams coming from the other side of the stage.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened to your audio. You can’t perform without a song” The manager bowed down in front of Riki, his voice desolating his sincere apology.
The entire building knew how much this meant to Riki, how much it meant to their entire team. This was their only chance to perform in front of all the college scouts, this was supposed to be his moment.
Instead, it was ripped straight from their hands, the opportunity of his lifetime racing away within seconds.
Riki stared at the manager, his troubled eyes causing them to break contact as the manager looked away toward the other students. He cleared his throat, hand tightening around the clipboard held flesh against his chest. “I’m sorry but you’re disqualified if you can’t somehow get a song within the next thirty seconds.”
Hope was cruel, but it was nowhere near as cruel as unfulfilled expectations.
“Let’s just go” Riki’s teammate, Harua, clapped him on the shoulder. Riki’s feet stayed rooted in place as he gazed through the curtains, his eyes staring at the panel from backstage.
Due to the state of his mind, Riki couldn’t hear the sound of many footsteps running towards them. He didn’t hear your voice shouting at your crew, hear you talking to the manager.
He couldn’t hear anything due to him feeling everything.
“I’ve got you” A whisper caressed his ear as he saw you run passed him, a guitar held in your hands as you lead your group on stage.
Everyone watched with bated breath as your band gathered along the back of the stage, instruments held in all your hands as the bright lights shone down onto you.
You looked over to the side, accessing your members as you double-checked their positions, ensuring that they were all ready.
You could feel your hands shaking as you began strumming the guitar, the sound of Seoyeon’s drums harmonizing with yours rang across the stadium.
You could feel the amazed eyes of the judges staring at you, their small murmurs hidden by loud instrumentals. But overall, you could feel the gazes from your school's boys’ dance team, their beady eyes staring straight at you.
Riki’s jaw was on the ground, tears almost immediately springing to his eyes at the overwhelming amount of relief that flooded his system the second he recognized the song.
He knew who you were, of course he did. Everyone knew who you were, the girl who was destined to be a star. Your band got gigs after gigs, money pouring into your pockets at the ripe age of seventeen.
Riki has never once talked to you, his small circle extending only to his dance members. But seeing you on stage right now, completely saving his entire future, he wanted nothing more than to know everything about you.
He shook the thoughts off before he turned around to face his team, sticking his hand out to begin a group cheer. Hand after hand fell into the circle, their loud cheer ending as they all ran onto the stage.
Riki took center stage, his back to the judges. He made brief eye contact with you, a noticeable smile on your lips through your singing, “then she started dancing, sexual romancing.”
It felt like the entire performance lasted only seconds, both your minds focusing on doing your best.
Riki’s chest heaved as the song came to an end, your voice trailing off as you sang your final line. Cheers erupted from the crowd, single flowers flying onto the stage as they went wild. The judges all stood up, clapping as they too cheered.
A standing ovation.
The second the lights turned black Riki bounced up from his position, not giving himself a second to think before he ran straight towards you.
You almost lost balance as he flung himself against you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he lifted you from the ground. “Thank you” He repeated over and over, the tears rising again as he finally completely processed what just happened.
Even though Riki couldn’t see your face, he could tell you were smiling. He felt your arms wrap around his shoulder as you hugged him back, leaning your head against his hair.
“I heard what happened and couldn’t just not do anything, you deserved to perform” You truthfully told him, the memory of his face when the manager said that engraved in your mind.
You didn’t mean to listen to what they were saying, but it was hard not to after seeing them all look so desperate. You meant to keep walking, to leave through the exit doors.
But your feet stayed glued to the ground, your members standing behind you as the entirety of you watched the scenario play out.
You all had just gotten off stage from your own performance located in the arena across the hall, vowing to go visit the dancers for a quick visit, hoping to cheer them on.
It wasn’t fate that brought you there at that exact time, it was merely luck. Perhaps it was destiny that brought you here at that moment, destiny that extended to this exact moment.
“Excuse me, Mr. Nishimura?” You pulled away from the embrace, hands grabbing Riki’s shoulders as you turned him towards the man standing near the two of you.
You watched as the man stuck his hand out for a handshake, introducing himself as a scout from the best arts university in the state. “I’d be pleased to have you audition for my University, give my number a call and I’ll prepare a personal audition with my trusted team”
Riki’s hands shook as he took hold of the business card, countless thank yous leaving his mouth. The elder man smiled at the boy, a fatherly expression melting on his face.
Riki could barely hold his cheers as he turned towards you, a wide smile on his face as he nearly squealed. You smiled at him, matching his excitement as you brought him into another hug, “I’m so proud of you!”
It seemed that destiny struck again as the man’s eyes lit up at the sight of you, an awestruck smile kissing his lips. “Y/N L/N? It’s a pleasure to see you again, I can’t wait to see you next year”
Even though you and Riki have never interacted before, you were bound to meet again. It was nearly impossible to get scouted by the university that accepted both of you in early acceptance, but you both defeated the unlikely odds.
This was just the beginning of your story, the story of the morning dancers songbird.
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