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#With His Hot and Blue Guitar
unreformedcarrots · 9 months
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Johnny Cash - With His Hot and Blue Guitar
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johnnycashhistorian · 1 month
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"(I Heard That) Lonesome Whistle," written by Hank Williams and Jimmie Davis. Track #2 on With Hist Hot And Blue Guitar (1957). The track title is sometimes written without the parentheses.
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sftjngwon · 1 month
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it hurts to be something
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it’s worse to be nothing with you
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☆🎧🎸🎶☆
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tmbmtb · 6 months
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I bet there's rich folks eatin' in a fancy dining car They're probably drinkin' coffee and smoking big cigars Well, I know I had it coming, I know I can't be free But those people keep a-movin', and that's what tortures me
✯ Folsom Prison Blues, Johnny Cash
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m0chaminx · 5 months
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Coriolanus Snow | “What about you?” “She's the star.” “Luckily I Like Roses.”
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*•.¸♡Request: omg can you write a coryo x reader, i don’t mind what, just pls don’t make him go batshit crazy at the end😩😩
*•.¸♡Prompts: none
*•.¸♡Warnings: Coriolanus, I completely forgot the other Covey peoples names :I, reader is shorter than Snow, Cori isn't insane (ish), Snow is slight ooc, and yes he's a terrible person but you’re here too
*•.¸♡Paring: Coriolauns Snow x F!reader
*•.¸♡Summary: On Coriolanus’s trip down to the lake with the star Lucy Gray, he found the most beautiful rose ever seen
Or
Coriolanus pervs on you while swimming (romantic)
*•.¸♡Words: 1.1k
Part 2
Growing up in the Covey had been a stroke of luck, simple as it gets, when Lucy Gray Baird and her family had been forced into District 12 Seeing the talent you had with a guitar one night as you played to the darkness, they took you to their next show where you played alongside Lucy Gray. She was still the star, she had the smile, the voice, the charisma. You could sing when you needed to, and you played the guitar just as well, but she always took the spotlight. And when she strolled into town after winning the Hunger Games, that star power only grew. She was the star, until one sunny morning.
Mockingjay's sang into the wind, the warm sun beating against your skin and the gentle breeze made your sundress flow in the wind. Meeting Lucy and the others on the walk to the lake you came face to face with Coriolanus Snow. Buzzed blonde hair, sharp jawline and the bluest eyes you had ever seen. His smile was bright, and his laugh was as sweet as Lucy’s singing. And it should be, he was laughing at her jokes. Smiling at her. Before he could catch you staring your eyes had shifted quickly, focussing on Lucy as you walked to her side.
She beamed as she saw you, wrapping her arms tightly around you.
“Coriolanus, I want you to meet only the bestest person in the world,” Lucy went on, kissing you quickly on the cheek.
The same smile returned as he turned to shake your hand, his skin soft on your calloused palms. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” He spoke your name softly, the syllables dripping from his tongue like honey. Your hand slipped from his, the tips of his fingers running along your palm.
Lucy quickly ushered you and the rest of the group on, starting the long hike down the green hills. Lucy walked ahead with Aurora, talking wistfully into the wind. You walked in silence, one hand gripping the strap of your satchel as you watched the critters race up the branches of the trees.
“Lucy said you played the guitar,” Coriolanus spoke up, swatting away another mosquito. He walked beside you, his tall figure blocking the sun from your face. He looked down at you, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Why didn’t I see you performing last night?”
You simply shrugged. The answer was the crowds didn’t cheer for you, Lucy was the star, and she could play for hours without backup. But it sounded sad. You looked over the trees, the Mockingjay's flying higher into the trees. “Nothing special, you probably just missed me when I left.”
Coriolanus shook his head softly, “I feel like I’d remember you.” You couldn’t place what Coriolanus meant, your eyebrows furrowing as you thought over his words. You didn't say anything more after that, keeping your eyes ahead on the track leading to the lake.
As soon as the dock was close enough Aurora and Tip had stripped their clothes off and thrown themselves in the water. You tossed your bag down, the hot sun that had beat against your skin had made you more than happy to rush into the water. Tossing your sundress aside with your satchel you ran down the dock and dove under the crystal blue water. The cool lake chilled your skin enough to relieve the sun but not enough to raise goosebumps.
You swam up to the surface, pushed the hair back for your face and fixed the straps of your handmade bra that slid down your shoulder. Lucy jumped in after you, and with a yell, Coriolanus jumped in, the splash of water hitting your face. You laughed, using your arms to keep you afloat. Coriolanus muttered an apology through a smile, but you barely noticed as your eyes fell over his light skin, his collar bones and muscular shoulders.
The lake was sweet, a nice relief from the constant smell of coal and sweat, the rowdy crowds and the smell of liquor on everyone's breath. Some time later Lucy had swam to shore, helping Aaroa and Tip fish and dig up Katniss' roots.
You floated on your back, the gentle waves lapping at your skin as the sun warmed your face. Coriolanus sat on the edge of the dock, toying with his fingers as he watched you. The wind blew the waves softly, the sun reflecting on your skin like liquid gold. He pushed himself off the dock, slipping below the cold water once again. “Can I hear you sing?” His voice made you turn your head to look at him.
“I don’t sing,” You muttered, turning your head to face the sun again.
“Lucy said you sing.”
You turned to swim properly, treading water. “If you wanna hear someone sing you should ask Lucy,” You insisted. You pushed yourself closer, slipping your fingers under the slim metal chain of his dog tags, untangling the knot. You moved it to hang properly from his neck, your nails dragging ever so slightly across his soft skin.
His icy blue eye moved from your hand on his skin and looked up at your face, droplets of water falling from your hair, and slipping down your skin and when they hit your lips, you swiped them away with your tongue. “I wanna hear you sing.” His eyes snapped up to meet yours as you lifted her gaze from the metal chain.
You chuckled softly and he swore it sounded like the sweetest melody, a honeydew sound that he couldn't help but smile at. “You’re funny Coriolanus Snow,” you said softly. “Turning down the winner of the Hunger Games. A true victor.”
Coriolanus wiped a hand down his face, wiping away the water running over his eyes. “What about you?” He asked.
You shook your head softly. “She’s the star, the songbird,” You insisted, unsure you were convincing him or yourself. His smile made your stomach flip, his gaze made your cheeks burn, but his words… his honey words.
His hand slowly reached out, his fingers slipping beneath the strap of your bra and sliding it back up your shoulder. His hand lingered there for a moment before falling back into the water. “Luckily I like roses.”
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trippiexk · 9 months
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riding pussy drunk hobie with his guitar pick hanging from your neck?? hello??
sweet, sweet hobie who is completely overstimulated but he can't help it because every time he cums his cock just gets hard again because his girl is just so pretty :(.
and when his legs finally gave out below him the only thing he could do was roll over next to you and loosely hold your hips in his strong hands as you straddled him. when ur cunt enveloped him again his back was arching off of the bed and his head was being thrown back and pitiful little moans were falling from his mouth and he realized he absolutely could not get enough of you.
because you really did look beautiful. you were ravished: with pink and purple hickeys adorning your neck and collarbone and breasts, hair messy over your head, mascara even messier around your eyes, lips swollen from too many kisses, and thighs sticky from both of your climaxes and your arousal staining your skin.
hobie watched your breasts above him, mouth watering and eyes low. the blue guitar pick hanging from a silver chain rested in the divot of your chest, bouncing with the rhythm of your hips. he reached up, pulling you down to his level by your neck, fingers circling around the cool metal. god you were so fucking hot.
once to his level, his ears were filled with the sound of skin slapping and pathetic whimpers of his name falling from your swollen lips. his hands squeezed your neck slightly, making your mouth fall open and a loud moan to escape. "you're so fuckin' sexy, baby." hobie said in your ear, guiding your body down as his stomach tightened.
"this makes you mine, y'know." he yanked on your necklace, his pick, and an odd noise left your throat making you squeeze your eyes shut.
"fuck, hobie, gonna cum..." you whined, sitting up to place your hands on his chest, you needed the leverage, especially with the speed in which he was moving your body to meet his. "again?" he said teasingly, and you wanted to respond that he's came much more than you have but you didn't get the chance to. not when his cock was twitching against your walls and he was pulling you flush to his chest and moaning in the crevice of your neck. not when you were climaxing with him, eyes tearing and vision crossed. and especially not when you were attempting to catch your breath, finally feeling his dick soften inside of you after various rounds of sex.
neither one of you realized he had broken the necklace until the next morning.
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sluttywoozi · 3 months
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Like A Melody | ljh x f!reader
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Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~3.9k | Pairing: ljh x f!reader | genre: smut
Jihoon has fucked you in his studio before, but never like this.
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Warnings: dom!jihoon, studio sex, biting, hair pulling, grinding, cumming in pants, multiple orgasms, oral f. rec., fingering, recorded sex (just voices), male masturbation, praise kink, piv sex, creampie
Reader Notes: chubby, has breasts and a vagina, subby
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Jihoon needs to take a break. 
He desperately needs to take a break, and he knows this, so why can’t he do it?
He’s been working on music for hours; his fingers are starting to cramp from plucking guitar strings and pressing down piano keys, his throat is sore from trying lyric after lyric, and his hair is a mess from his fingers running through it every other minute. His eyes are exhausted, the blue light lenses in his glasses only doing so much. Even his back hurts, which rarely happens now that he lifts so heavy. 
But he just can’t make himself quit, which is why he breathes a sigh of relief when he hears the knock. It’s soft, just like you, and he calls out a quiet, “Come in,” feeling the smile stretch his lips as soon as your sweet face peeks through the slowly opening door. 
“Are you busy?” You ask apprehensively, your eyes darting between his face and his computer. 
He can’t take a break for himself but he can for you, so he says, “Not at all, baby,” and pulls his glasses off, minimizing his music production software. Pushing away from his desk, he turns his chair to face you and holds his hand out, waiting for you to come closer and take it. He just holds your hand for a minute, staring up at you with tired eyes and letting them blink closed when you lean down and press your lips to his. 
Kissing you is as easy as loving you. It’s one of the few times in his life where he can shut his brain off and just feel, because every movement comes naturally to him. Dancing and singing do too, of course, but he has to count beats and remember words and keep every next move in mind. 
With you, Jihoon can just do what feels right. Like taking hold of your knee with his free hand and pulling until you give in and straddle him in his chair. He loves how plush and perfect you feel against him, all of his sharp edges rounded out by your curves, and he loves even more having your weight on him. 
He can take it, he can take you, and he likes to remind you at every opportunity. 
Sliding lower in the chair, he pulls your hips into his to let you feel his hardening dick, his hand flexing in yours when you grind down. He can feel how hot you are through your little pajama shorts, and if he knows you at all, you’re wet already. He works his fingers free of yours to slide them between your legs, pulling your shorts and panties to the side so he can feel you through his thin athletic pants. 
Your arousal soaks the fabric as soon as he thrusts up into you, making him let out a small laugh against your lips. You pout in response and mutter, “Shut up,” still working your hips against his. 
“Didn’t say anything, baby,” he teases, smirking up at you and squeezing your lush hips with both hands. You sink yours into his hair and pull, and suddenly, nothing is funny. His hips buck against yours as his cock twitches, precum leaking from the head adding to the wet patch on his lap. 
Your hips roll into his and he starts to throb, his dick pulsing in time with his heart. He can’t let you keep going or you’ll make him cum in his pants, or maybe… he could? 
Should he? 
It makes you feel good to make him feel good, and you always have a little pep in your step after he lets you make him cum first. He’s also desperate to get his mouth on you, and you’ll be more inclined to let him take care of you if he’s already taken care of. 
With his mind made up, he pulls you down onto his cock and grinds into you, exhaling a moan against your mouth when you tug on his hair again. You love it this length, you’ve told him, and he’s going to keep it like this for as long as he possibly can. Partially for you, mostly because he fucking adores having you brush it and play with it and braid it. 
He gets to be so close to you, and your fingers in his hair feel heavenly, even (especially) when you get a little rough. 
His scalp stings with the next pull and it sends a shiver down his spine, ending in a sharp buck of his hips. He stretches his thumbs out to pull your pussy apart so he can grind into your clit, hoping to take you over the edge with him. 
He’s getting close already, and you’re so wet, he can feel every inch of your cunt like there’s nothing separating him from you. Soon enough, there will be nothing, and he’ll be able to lick and suck and kiss you as much as he wants. 
You bite his lip and drag your nails over his scalp, and that’s it for him. 
His brain goes offline and his hips stutter against yours, a low groan leaving his open mouth as his dick twitches and jerks, streaks of cum splattering the inside of his pants. Your hips don’t stop moving until he stops them himself, his harsh grip dimpling your flesh. 
“Fuck,” Jihoon sighs, blinking his eyes open to find you beaming at him. 
He can only smile wryly at you in response, shaking his head and letting go of your hips to grab you by the waist. 
“Up you go,” he pushes, hefting you up to sit on his keyboard, discordant notes filling the studio until he leans forward and presses mute. 
“Are you su-”
“I’ve literally dreamed about this,” he tells you, for the first time. 
“You have?” You almost sound like you don’t believe him, and Jihoon simply can’t have that.
“Yes. I’ve dreamed about spreading you out on my desk just like this,” he shoulders his way between your legs. “And kissing up these thighs,” he presses his mouth to your soft skin, digging his teeth in only once, though he wants to leave you covered in bite marks. 
“And feeling them squeeze my head when I finally get you on my tongue,” he leans in and licks from your cunt to your clit, fighting a smile when your thighs snap closed just like he knew they would. 
He wants to talk to you more but he can’t pull himself away from your pussy, can’t make his mouth form words when he’s so busy using it on you. And honestly, his priority is keeping it on you, for as long as he possibly can. 
Between work and sleep, he doesn’t get to taste you nearly as often as he wants to, and now that he actually is between work and sleep, he plans on making the most of it. By shoving his tongue inside you over and over, by wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking until you cry, by groaning and humming into you both so you can feel the vibrations and to voice his obsession with your pussy. 
And Jihoon is obsessed with your pussy, make no mistake. If he didn’t love his job so much, he’d quit and spend all his time worshiping you, taking care of you, loving you. He honestly thinks he’d make a killer house husband, and someday, when he retires, he plans on becoming one. 
He can imagine it now, cleaning and working out and sleeping until you come home, then feeding you and fucking you till the sun sets, reading to you and massaging away any soreness before wrapping you up in his arms and falling to sleep together. He can still make music while you’re gone, but he won’t be jetting off or practicing for hours on end anymore. 
He’s not ready for that now, but for a distant dream, it’s pretty enticing. 
Even more enticing is the paradise between your thighs; the taste of you, the scent of you, the feel of you clouding his mind. He can barely breathe but that doesn’t matter, not when you’re moving with his tongue like this, grinding your hips onto his face as he sucks and sucks and sucks at your swollen little clit. 
He wishes he could record the sounds coming out of your mouth, wishes he could play them back to you, watch you squirm and feel you flush at the sheer debauchery of them. It occurs to him that he could, but he’d have to pull away from you enough to ask and he’s unable to do so at the moment. 
You’re just too hot and wet and perfect for him to stop for even a second, so he’ll save that idea for another time and focus on making you cum for him now. He can tell you’re getting close, by the way your thighs shudder against his ears, by the keen you let out when he sucks hard enough to hollow his cheeks, by the hand you sink into his hair to hold him to you, as if he’d ever want to leave. 
All it takes is a groan and a shake of his head and you’re cumming, your arousal leaking all over his chin and dripping down his throat to soak into the neckline of his t-shirt. He’ll take it off as soon as he gains the will to detach himself from you. 
It doesn’t come to him until his eyes travel up your body and catch on the way your tits heave in your sleep tank. He wants to see them, feel them, taste them, bury his face in them. 
Finally, he stands and rips off his shirt, leaning over you and waiting for you to raise your arms before tugging your top off and throwing it to the side. He takes a second to appreciate your bare breasts, the shape and weight of them intoxicating, and then shoves his face between them, licking over to one nipple and opening his mouth around it with a groan. 
He fucking loves your tits, and he shows you just how much with his lips and his teeth and his tongue, one thigh between yours to hold them open for his searching fingers. They find your clit with practiced ease and start to rub staccato circles, chasing you when your hips buck in sensitivity. 
He covers your other breast with his free hand, squeezing and brushing his thumb over your pebbled nipple as he sucks at its twin. You must have already showered, your skin tasting like your honey and cocoa butter lotion, and he can’t get enough, his head filling with clouds and images of you dripping wet and running your hands all over your body. 
He’s gotten you messy again, but he’s sure you knew what you were doing when you knocked on his studio door. This is almost always how you end up when you come to check on him, his hunger for you insatiable, incurable. 
How could he ever get enough of you when you’re this luscious, this sweet, this perfect? His mouth strays from your breast to your stomach, his lips tracing your rolls and stretch marks and cute little belly button before he sinks back down into his chair. He pushes your legs apart with a firm hand and replaces his fingers with his tongue, gliding it over you and sliding his fingers down to your entrance. 
He fills you with them slowly even as your cunt flutters and squeezes, wanting them deeper already. He’ll give you what you want, he always does, but first he’ll tease you a little bit. Not to be mean, or to punish you for something, but because he fucking loves to hear you beg. 
It always takes you a little push to lose your shyness, to find your voice, and this time, his push comes in the form of three fingers stretching your entrance open, sinking in only to the first knuckle. Your hips roll into his hand and his free one flies up to hold them still, his arm banding over your lap to hold you down so he can fill you at his pace. 
He goes much slower than he knows you would prefer, and he presses his smile into your clit when you finally break down. 
“Jihoon, please, I’ve been so good for you,” you whine, and he feels the heat spread from head to toe as he realizes it’s one of those nights. The kind where you need him to take control, to be rough with you, to reward you when you’ve earned it. 
And you have earned it, so he lets his fingers fill you, pushing them in all the way and murmuring into your clit, “You have been good, baby. I’ll give you what you need, promise.”
You just whimper, your head tilting back on your neck when he scissors his fingers apart and your walls clinging to them as he pulls them out to the tip. “Eyes on me, baby.”
He waits for you to return your gaze to his before pushing his fingers back inside of you and beginning to fuck you with them, his lips pursing around your clit and sucking with every thrust. Your pussy is so fucking hot and wet around his fingers, it makes him moan into you, just the thought of feeling you wrapped around his cock enough to reawaken it. 
It twitches in his damp boxers when a curl of his fingers beckons forth a rush of wetness and a sharp keen, one that echoes in his mind like a looped track.  
“Baby, can I record you?” 
He asks before he can stop himself, but now that it’s out in the air, he won’t take it back. He rests his cheek against your thigh as he waits, his heart pounding and his dick throbbing. 
“Um, sure?” You don’t sound certain, and Jihoon doesn’t want you to regret anything. He can always delete them, but he doesn’t want you to do something you’re not comfortable with. 
“You don’t have to say yes, Y/n. I just think it would be… really fucking hot. Having your voice on file, being able to listen to you whenever I want, using your sounds in songs that will never be heard by anyone but us.”
You squirm under his forearm and clench around his fingers, and he believes you when you say, “Do it, Jihoon. Record me.”
His lips stretch in a broad, genuine smile and he reaches for the computer mouse, opening his recording software and clicking the red button. 
He watches little waves form on the baseline, curls his fingers, grinds them into the rough patch inside of you, and arches an eyebrow. You gasp weakly, seemingly shy now that your noises are being picked up by something other than his ears. 
Jihoon can be patient though, knows that soon enough, he’ll make you forget all about it. 
You’re still being good, holding eye contact and keeping your thighs spread for him, so he rewards you with his mouth around your clit, a heavy suck startling a moan from your parted lips. He fights a smile, his lips pursing and pulling at the swollen bundle of nerves, and starts to hum, knowing you love the vibrations. 
He can’t see the software from here but the wave must spike because you let out a sharp cry, your nails scratching at the edge of his desk until he takes your hands and puts them on his head. Your fingers delve into his hair and you pull his face into your pussy, and he knows he’s got you. 
He didn’t really consider the mic picking up his own noises but he’s sure it is, his grunts and groans audible even with your thighs pressed to his ears. He can’t stop though, can’t hold them in when you taste so fucking good, when your cunt is searing hot and soaking wet under his mouth, when your nails are scratching at his scalp and sending zaps of electricity down his spine. 
They all end in his cock, and he feels it jerk against the waistband of his boxers. He’s tired of them, removes his arm from your hips to shove them and his pants down, groaning loudly when his cock pops out into the open air. It’s sticky with cum and hard enough to hurt, and he can’t resist taking hold of it with his free hand, squeezing hard at the base to ease some of the ache. 
His fingers thrust into you as he strokes his dick, the slick sounds loud in his studio, and you crane your neck, your eyes searching until they find his hand at work. 
“Fuck, Jihoon, I want you inside of me,” you whine breathlessly, trying to pull him off your cunt by the hair. That just makes him moan into you, makes his cock jump in his grasp, makes him fuck his fingers into you harder. 
“Cum for me first,” he demands, determined to get at least two orgasms on this file for mixing purposes. It seems he’s still a producer even when he’s trying to just be a boyfriend. 
You pout but listen well, your cries reaching a fever pitch as your pussy flutters around his fingers, arousal spilling out of you and dripping between the keys of his keyboard. He may have to buy a new one, but that’s a problem for future Jihoon, and a problem he would be lucky to have. 
“Perfect, baby, that was perfect,” he murmurs in a low tone, wanting your voice to be the focal point. 
“Will you fuck me now?” You pant, reaching down to smooth your fingers over the head of his cock, making him shiver and swallow a groan. 
“Yeah, baby, I’ll fuck you now,” he whispers, standing from the chair and pulling away from you to tug you off his desk. Your knees shake when you get your feet under you and he smirks, cupping your cheek and pressing a kiss to your lips before taking you by the hips and turning you around. 
He squeezes your shoulder and starts pushing you down, letting you bend over the rest of the way by yourself. You fold your arms under your head, resting your cheek on them so you can watch as he guides his dick to your cunt and sinks inside. 
You’re stretched out enough to take him easily, your walls forming to his cock and gripping it tightly. You’re such a perfect fucking fit for him, it’s like you were made for one another, like your bodies were designed to match. It blows his mind every single time he has the privilege of being inside of you. 
He’s reluctant to leave you and you’re reluctant to let him, but pulling out means he can thrust back in. He keeps one hand on your shoulder and drops the other to your hip, clutching at it like a lifeline as he starts to fuck you in earnest. 
His hips smack into your plush ass rhythmically, the sound causing sharp spikes on the waveform graph and acting as the perfect percussion to the moans and whimpers escaping you. The mic is right by your mouth and he knows they’re being picked up beautifully, butterflies gathering in his stomach just at the thought of getting to hear them through his headphones. 
“Sound so fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he grunts, angling his hips up to hit your g-spot and smirking when you yelp at the sensation. Your back arches, your stomach pressing into his keyboard and your hips pressing into his, and he just holds you tighter, fucks into you harder. 
Your pussy undulates around him as his hand slides from your shoulder to join the other at your hip, both of them gripping your ass and spreading you apart so he can watch his cock enter you again and again. It’s a sight he’ll never get tired of, a feeling he’ll never get used to, a gift he’ll never truly deserve. 
It’s what will send him over the edge, just as long as he makes you fall first. He already came before you once and he doesn’t plan on doing so again for a long time, but he needs to get you there soon or he won’t have a choice. 
One of his hands slips around your waist to dive between your legs, his fingers finding your sensitive clit and starting to strum it as he fills you over and over. You whimper and tremble against him, your cunt fluttering wildly around his aching cock and your hand flying down to grasp his wrist like you think he’ll pull away. 
He doesn’t intend to, honestly wouldn’t mind being attached to you like this for the rest of his life, knows already that he wants to spend it with you. 
His fingers get rougher on your clit and his hips move on autopilot as his brain empties, his balls aching to do the same. “Please cum, fuck. Baby, please fucking cum.”
Jihoon should have known he’d be the one begging you at the end of the night. 
Thankfully, you like to indulge him, your pussy locking him in place as you cum with a loud cry, followed by gasping sobs of his name when he doesn’t stop fucking you. He’s right there, he’s right fucking-
“Jihoon, cum inside me. Fill me up, I want it,” you whimper, pressing your ass into his hips and squeezing your inner muscles around his throbbing cock, and that’s the end for him. 
He drops down to cover your body with his as he breaks apart, his own moans and whimpers registering on the graph alongside yours and his cum flooding into you in pulses. His hand leaves your clit so he can wrap his arm around your waist in a hug, his cheek pressed to your back and his other hand finding yours. 
He tangles your fingers together and rises up, pulling you with him and sitting heavily in his chair. He’s still hard enough his cock doesn’t slip out, and he leans you to the side so he can cup your cheek and turn your face into his, pressing his lips to yours in an openmouthed kiss. 
“Love you, baby,” he whispers into your mouth, waiting for you to say it back before kissing his way to your neck and biting down gently, just enough to leave an indent of his teeth behind. 
“Will you come to bed with me?” You whisper in a small voice, and he returns his lips to yours, kissing you deeply and responding, “Of course, baby.” 
He reaches a hand out and stops the recording, saving the file to his private hard drive, ideas filling his head already. They can wait until the morning though, you asked him to go to bed with you and go to bed he will. 
Jihoon thinks this might be the most productive break he’s ever had. 
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AN: this one's for all the jihoon stans who have been thirsting with me lately 💖
My Masterlist
My Chubby!Reader Masterlist
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moonheecore · 4 months
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Lover Boy — lhs (m)
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Pairing: Boyfriend! Heeseung X Afab! Reader
Genre: Smut🔞 (Minors DNI), college AU, established relationship.
Warnings: Soft Dom! Heeseung, protected sex, consumption of alcohol lots of praising (fem receiving), multiple orgasm, oral (male & female receiving), love making because Heeseung is whipped for you, teasing, cowgirl, dirty talking, Heeseung is both a frat boy and a basketball player which is lethal to the heart, overuse of the word pretty and baby, feat other 01 boy group members, hopefully I didn’t miss out anything else. 
Summary: Lee Heeseung, your sweet boyfriend that you have wrapped around your finger. His favoritism towards you didn't escape the notice of his close friends, leading to a well-known moniker they often used when the girlfriend privilege was evident— Lover boy.
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Word count: 5.1k
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The atmosphere, combined with the chilly night air, provided a comforting feel. Amid the ongoing frat party, you and a bunch of your circle of friends sought solace on the mansion's back patio, where a warm bonfire painted the scene orange.
You registered the soft sound of your boyfriend’s laughter in the air, watching him and Jeongin joked around with a very drunken Beomgyu across from you. The said male was playing the acoustic guitar carelessly until a visibly annoyed Jaehyuk took the instrument away from the semi-conscious guy.
Lee Heeseung.
The fraternity president, the star and ace player of the school's basketball team, the heartthrob of every girl on campus— and your incredibly attractive boyfriend.
When you said he was effortlessly hot, you meant every word.
He sat there, clad in his usual outfit of a simple black t-shirt and a pair of ripped dark blue jeans, his soft faded purple hair tucked under one of his many collection of beanies. You observed how his dangling earring swayed with each flash of his pearly white teeth, a response to the antics his friends were pulling.
Your eyes trailed to the item hung around his neck, a delicate necklace that he never forgot to pull out of his shirt—your initials carved in silver, proudly displayed for everyone to see.
You felt a bit embarrassed when you gifted him the accessory at first, but you had never seen Heeseung’s doe eyes filled with mellow tenderness as he kept fidgeting the letter with a small smile.
Since then, you’ve never seen him take it off.
A sense of endearment bloomed every time you saw it around his neck. He wore it to his basketball practice, in the shower, to bed— everywhere.
Even in those intimate moments, it dangled above you, the delicate chain brushing against your lips as he thrust into your sopping wet core, fucking you wholeheartedly against the bed sheets; or when you would entangle your fingers between the cold chains, the grip providing the perfect leverage as you ride his cock, the symphony of his encouraging moans blending with the creaking of the bed frame.
You felt almost comical at how shaken you were by a piece of jewelry.
"Hey, are you even listening?" Yunjin's voice cut through your distracted thoughts.
You turned your head to face her, obviously startled. "What?"
Yunjin scoffed, taking a sip from her red cup. "If you don't stop eye-fucking your boyfriend, I might puke on you."
“I was not!”
Yunjin raised an eyebrow at your answer, clearly unimpressed. You closed your mouth in silent embarrassment, hugging Heeseung's jacket around your body tighter. The waft of his cologne gave you a piece of mind.
You sighed in defeat, "—okay, fine, maybe I was, alright. Is that a crime now?” Yunjin's expression softened, and she nudged you playfully, finding your annoyed yet adorable expression to be one that lit amusement.
“Well, I guess you're in some kind of luck, girl. He is looking right back at you."
You blinked, surprised, and turned to see Heeseung gazing back at you with a fond smile across the bonfire. The orange hue from the flame seemed to accentuate the way his eyes lowered down before locking onto yours again, as if he was drinking in the sight of you. He raised his eyebrows enticingly, patting his lap like a signal for you to join him.
A blush crept onto your cheeks.
"You're having too much fun with this," you remarked, getting up from your seat as Yunjin's playful laughter filled the air as you left.
God, you hate it when she has then upper hand. But you hate it even more when you feel like a giddy middle schooler while heading towards your boyfriend.
His gaze stayed fixed on you throughout, leaning back on his seat to create a comfortable space for you to settle on his lap, both legs elegantly positioned on one side. You feel his hands immediately on your body— one securing your back, while the other gently on your bare knee.
Heeseung was so warm that you instantly melt in his embrace, resting the side of your head against his shoulder. You fought against every instinct, refraining from burying your face in his neck. It was as if the lingering scent of his sweet cologne on the jacket he gave you at the party's start wasn't sufficient to satisfy the yearning within you.
"Are you cold?" He asked, already taking a blanket to drape over your exposed legs. You stared at his side profile, letting out a soft hum at his attentiveness. He glanced down at you, only to find you already staring back.
Gosh, you could drown yourself in his eyes.
"Hi," He whispered, as if having you in his arms was the most casual thing.
"Hi," You breathed out shyly, wrapping your arms around his neck to shorten the distance between your faces.
The both of you struggled to contain your laughter at the exchange. The noise of your friends and the crackling bonfire seemed to fade away as you locked eyes with each other.
“You look really cute tonight.” You blurt out, feeling his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your knee under the covers.
He raised his eyebrow in feigned offence. “Cute?”
There was a mischievous glint in his expression, and it was impossible to ignore as he leaned down to boldly fix his gaze on your lips.
"Not hot?" he questioned, your breath hitching as his fingers traced up your legs, ghosting over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. It made your heart race, especially considering he was doing it discreetly with people still around.
"Or sexy?”
You bit down on your lower lip, trying to contain the small moan coming out when he cups your clothed cunt. Heeseung observed every scrunch of your face, feeling your fingers tugging at the hairs on his nape and the way you pressed your thighs together, curling inwards towards his body.
Heeseung wished he could tease you even more, relishing in your adorable reactions. However, he could feel himself getting worked up too, forcing him to whisper against your ear.
“Let’s go to my room, yeah?”
You nodded quietly against his shoulder. He shifted to grab the blanket and laid it on the empty chair, prompting you to stand up and fix your skirt, which had ridden up during his little ministration.
"Hey," Heeseung called out to Jeongin, intertwining his big hands with yours. "We're heading inside."
"What! Already?" Beomgyu's slurred words cut through the conversation, loud enough for others to hear. "Come on! The party's just about to get started!"
Heeseung looked visibly annoyed as his friend draped an arm around his shoulder. Clearly under the influence of alcohol, he glanced over Heeseung’s shoulder, catching sight of your connected hands and the noticeable flush on your cheeks.
"Ohhh, I see why you're leaving early," Beomgyu said with a massive grin on his face and wiggling his eyebrows.
"Heeseung, you fucking dog! Lover boy getting his dick nice and wet tonight—“
Before Beomgyu could continue, Jeongin smacked his palm over his mouth from behind to stifle the rest of his sentence, holding him in a headlock. He signaled to Heeseung to go and shot you an apologetic look as well.
But the damage was done, and you shyly lowered your head as Heeseung pulled you away where people were whistling and howling in your direction as you past by.
"God, I was about to sacrifice him in the fire if he didn't stop yapping."
You giggled as he grumbled under his breath, reaching the steps of the patio. He opened the back door, ushering you inside the house where the party showed no signs of slowing down even in the wee hours of the night.
The thumping bass of the music reached your ears as you walked down the hallway, navigating through drunken students flowing between the dancefloor in the living room and the kitchen stocked with an abundance of alcohol.
The tight space between the sweaty figures made you feel claustrophobic, but the reassuring touch of Heeseung's fingers laced with yours and your other hand holding onto the belt loops of his pants kept you from getting lost in the sea of crowds.
Heeseung has always made his strong presence felt by you.
He always ensured you walked on the side away from the road, poured and guarded your red cup when you were away, stayed sober to drive you home, rested his hands at the back pocket of your pants when you walk together or when he would wait for you patiently outside of the restroom when you felt unwell.
His favoritism towards you didn't escape the notice of his close friends, leading to a well-known moniker they often used when the girlfriend privilege was evident—
Lover boy.
Your lover boy, the man who was pinning you against the door of his bedroom, one hand on your waist and the other cupping your jawline, kissing your lips deeply the moment he locked the doors.
You opened your mouth slightly, allowing his hot tongue to explore the cavern of your mouth. The intensity made you tangle your fingers in his soft hair, eliciting light moans and groans from both of you that he gladly swallowed down.
You weren't sure if you were tipsy from the alcohol or his taste because you started to feel fuzzy in the head.
“Is my hair in the way?” He questioned, sounding a little out of breath once he broke the kiss.
He rest his forehead against yours, the bridge of your noses grazing each other at the proximity. You chuckled softly, pushing back the lone strands of his hair that escaped when you pulled his beanie off.
“Yeah, a little bit.”
You licked his bottom lip sensually, mesmerized by the way it glistened with saliva. Heeseung bent down to capture your lips again swiftly, his heart going wild with what you did, circling your waist to pull you flush against his body.
You weren't going to lie; you felt out of breath, getting lost in the rhythm of his mouth moving hungrily. But you didn't want to stop, going insane with the way his hands were slowly smoothing down your body.
"You look beautiful in this skirt," he murmured, pressing a kiss at the corner of your lips before switching to your jawline and down your neck.
“I wore it just for you…” You admitted, sighing softly when he nib and suck at the sensitive spot of your neck, holding his hair tighter when he moved to knead the back of your thighs.
"Is that why it's so short?"
You felt him smirk against your neck, letting out a sudden gasp when his hands moved under your skirt to grope an ample amount of your bare ass.
"Hmm? Planning to seduce me with your slutty ass out for everyone to see.”
Now your cheeks were on fire.
It was rendering you speechless, with only the ability to weakly shake your head. You couldn't bring yourself to make eye contact with Heeseung as he looked back to gauge your reaction. Doing so would likely leave you feeling weak in the knees.
Heeseung could only smile at your cute reaction, especially when you tried your best to hold back your moans but failed.
“Naughty girl, but I guess it work, right?" Heeseung drove his point home when he took one of your hands, gently guiding you to palm his semi-hard cock through his pants.
He let out a shaky sigh when you knead firmly along his thick length. "Feel how hard I am for you, baby. Only you can make me feel like this."
Heeseung let out small whiny moans as his head fell to rest on your shoulder, bucking his hips shamelessly in your hand as his cock grew heavy, a tight dent forming at the front of his pants.
You felt the familiar pooling of wetness gathering, both at the base of your tongue and between your thighs.
“Seungie,” You call out, pulling on the bands of his pants shyly with half lidded eyes and swollen lips courtesy of him. “Can I suck you off, please?”
Holy shit, he could get a cardiac arrest with the way you said it with so much lust.
"I’d love that," he grinned, leading you to his bed as he sat at the edge, pulling his shirt off to exposed his ripped body.
You promptly went on your knees between his legs, causing him to caress his thumb over your cheek as you fiddled with his buttons and zipper before pulling his pants and boxers down, swiftly releasing him from the tight confinement.
Your mouth watered at the sight of his beautiful cock lying hard against his abs, the head already aching and red with pre-cum leaking at the tip. The sight of his tight balls entice you even more, leading you to kiss them first before sucking gently on the flesh.
"So eager, baby." He cooed, using one hand to lean back on the mattress while the other rest on the crown of your head. "Just like that pretty girl, fuck—"
He rasped out a loud moan when you licked a long stripe up along his length before swiftly engulfing his head in your mouth. Heeseung felt absolutely winded at the sight of you stuffing your cheeks full of his cock, gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail so it doesn't get in the way of the sight.
You started to bob your head, smoothly pumping his length in and out past your lips. You jerk his remaining length expertly while your other hand fondle with his balls.
"So pretty like this, taking me so well. Bet you've been thinking about fucking your mouth in my big cock the whole night, right, baby?" He smiled down at you.
You were so drunk with his taste that you could only hum in response, swirling your tongue around his tip before dipping it into his slit. Heeseung instinctively tug your hair, pulling your face closer until your nose was touching his pelvis as you tried to accommodate him beyond your usual capacity.
You knew his most sensitive spot— slurping on his bulbous head while you slid your tongue along the prominent vein on the underside of his cock as much as possible.
"Ah god, fuck, baby, that's it." He whines, thrusting into your mouth, pushing his cock until it hits the back of your throat repeatedly. Your jaws were aching, but you fight the urge to gag by hollowing your cheeks, letting him use your mouth free to his will.
You didn't care that drool was spilling at the corner of your mouth or that the corners of your eyes were starting to sting with tears. Heeseung was at the mere edge of his release and your clit was throbbing to even think about him spilling his seed into your mouth.
"Y/N, fuck—“ You could hear the rawness of desperation in his voice, chest heaving. The hand gripping on the back of your head turned rough as he sloppily pistons his hips forward that almost make you choke.
"Gonna cum in your mouth, baby girl. Gonna fill you up nice and good down your throat until all you taste is me."
And you’ll gladly let him, feeling his head twitch a few times against the roof of your mouth before he release the tension in his shoulder, lurching forward and swearing loudly as ropes of his white cum coat your entire oral region.
Despite feeling light-headed, you continue riding him of his orgasm as you swallow down his hot load and lick him clean. In fact, it made Heeseung shudder in pure pleasure, wiping down your smudge eye linear with a gleeful expression.
"Sorry, are you okay? I seriously couldn’t hold back…”
He sheepishly apologized, smoothing down your tousled hair as you rested your head against his thigh.
"...and I came a lot." He mumbled, and you giggled at the way he turned bashful when just a second ago, he was rolling his eyes while shoving his shaft down your throat.
“It’s fine.” You reassured him. Heeseung wanted to plunge himself into your mouth again when your wipe the excess cum at the corner of your lips, licking it without a second thought.
"You taste absolutely delicious."
You began to kiss the dips of his v-line, holding onto his thighs as you move to tongue at his navel. You could feel his stomach tense up as you lick the valley of his abs, trailing up and standing on your feet to reach his neck and jaw before settling on kissing his lips.
You circled your hands around his neck firmly, thumb pressing on the prominent swell of his Adam’s apple.
“Don’t you think a good girl like me deserves to be rewarded?” You look at him with those dreamy eyes he can’t refuse, or maybe that was just the afterglow of sucking his cock that makes you look irresistible under the bedroom lights.
Heeseung's hands slipped under your shirt, gently tracing your waist, sending shivers down your spine.
“Maybe if she strips down for me I’ll consider.” He purred, doe eyes darken with lust. "Get naked for me, baby, and I promise to make you feel incredible."
If the arousal trickling down your thighs wasn't a clear sign of your longing, the fact that you promptly followed his command under his hungry gaze certainly speaks volumes.
"Fucking beautiful," he whispered as you peeled off your bra, licking his bottom lip as he watched your breasts bounce free. Now, you were left in only your skimpy panties.
"The most prettiest girl in the world." He lament, pulling you closer and situating you between his legs, your exposed breasts now right in front of his face. Your tits were hardening as he firmly grasped one of them.
"—and I get to have you all to myself."
You instantly crumbled when he captures a nipple between his pouty lips, suckling on the hard nub until you feel the pressure on your skin. His other hand toyed with the other perky breast, kneading it and ensuring it received the same attention as he pinched it between his fingers.
"Feels so good, seungie..." You moaned out, your fingers found purchase in his hair again as you arch your back when he switch to engulf the other nipple with moist kisses.
"Fuck...love it when you use your tongue on me." You were shaking your head, body trembling when he kept nibbling and lapping at your sensitive nipples, coating them with his thick saliva.
"I know, baby." He gazes up at you with a knowing expression, leaving bite marks on the swell of your breast. "Think you can handle it if I eat your pretty little pussy?"
Fuck, no, you don’t think so.
To many people on the outside, he has the sweetest pair of lips, always complementing and giving you lovey-dovey kisses in public. But behind the scenes, his dirty mouth never stops moving on your body, and you know for a fact that his tongue is the spawn of the devil. It won't end until every drop of your arousal coated his taste buds, and you crying for him to stop.
But you fear you might go insane if the ache between your legs isn't relieved soon, succumbing everything you have to him.
"Yes, please, I need you now." You urged.
Heeseung laugh softly, a big smile plastered on his face.
"C'mere, baby. Get on the bed and lay down for me."
He instructs, standing up and turning you both around so that you're pressed against the bed.
He took a pillow to gently tuck it beneath your head, making sure you were laying down in a comfortable position. You were observing every move he made impatiently, and he took obvious notice of that.
“You look like I’ve already made you cum,” He teased.
Blushing at his words, you watched as he settled to spread your legs open. The sight made his cock twitch, the damp patch of fabric clinging to your folds, outlining the curves of your lips. He could already imagining how swollen and soak you were, and he haven't even properly touch you yet.
"You're so wet, baby," He praised, peeling your panties from your pussy. "Are you sure you haven't cum yet?"
You shake your head, spreading your knees wider for him to tug off your panties from your ankle. "No, I wanted to wait for you."
"Such a good girl."
Heeseung seemed satisfied with your response, especially when he could confirm that you weren't lying. Your pussy was slick with arousal, and your clit looked engorged to the touch. He was sure it was courtesy of you humping the carpet floor when you were on your knees for him.
Heeseung laid on his stomach, hooking his arms behind your thighs. It was like a wet dream, having his head between you legs and feeling the heat radiating from his breath as he drew closer to your bare cunt. You fingers entangled itself in his soft locks when he blew on your sensitive clit.
"Heeseung, please don't tease— ngahhh.”
The words died in your mouth the moment he licked a stripe of your core, as if to test the waters before fully lapping on your wet folds. You lifted your hips, hearing the slurping sounds of his lips smacking around your cunt. His button nose pressed on your clit so deliciously that you hoped the loud noise from the party was drowning the even louder cries of pleasure escaping from your throat.
"yes, yes, fuck, faster." There was the familiar knot blooming in your stomach, the one that was growing the more Heeseung prob the tip of his tongue in and out of your lose slit.
A soft groan emits from him, driven by the way you would roughly scrape your nails on his scalp as you start grinding on his face feverishly. His chin is dripping with drool and your arousal, your sweet scent and taste overwhelming his mind, causing him to quicken his pace and latch his lips onto your clit.
He flattened his tongue on the pearl, flicking it back and forth, face pressed deeply between your thighs until you were a convulsing mess on his bed.
Your abdomen was pulsing erratically, your walls clenching over nothing as you released the torment you had kept. An orgasm washed over you like cold icy water, throwing your head back as Heeseung's tongue continued to coax every bit of your climax until he was satisfied. He was going down on you, making sure to clean every crevice that he might have missed, even when you were weakly whining that it was too much.
He was fucking pussy drunk. There was no other explanation for him literally drinking you up right now.
"You're such a cute mess.” He was peppering your inner thighs with kisses, watching you squirm from the sensitivity every touch on your skin brings. "Always so ready for me to taste."
His sun-kissed skin glowed with sweat, his hair attractively disheveled, while his lips were swollen with a sweet pink hue. He gingerly moved and leaned down to kiss you square on the lips. It was light-hearted, simmering down the intensity of everything that happened before.
He was gentle, holding your jaw tenderly as you both basked in the warmth of your proximity.
"You did so well for me, baby." He bumps his nose against yours. "Think you can keep going?"
It was sweet of him to take note on the exhaustion reigning on your features, but you honestly don’t think the night could be completely over until he fucks your pussy with his cock.
"God, yes,” You nodded, gnawing on your lower lip. "Lemme ride you.”
He wasted no time in positioning himself to sit up, leaning his back on the headboard. You took this as an invitation to sit on his lap as he rummage on his side drawer for a condom.
“Wild berry or bubblegum, what do you think?”
“Heeseung, please just hurry up.”
You snapped, snatching one of the wrappers from his hand.
Heeseung's boyish laughter filled the air, his beautiful smile and his eyes turning a beautiful crescent shape. His silly jokes could never be separated, to the point where you swore he was secretly a masochist for finding joy in seeing you suffer in the most unconventional moments.
You rip the package open with your teeth before rolling it onto his already hard cock that twitches with every friction from your contact. Now, you thought you were the one being needy when he was literally manhandling you to hover over him.
You rest your hand on his broad shoulders. With one hand on your waist and the other wrapped around the base of his cock, he guides the tip to your entrance as you slowly sink down simultaneously.
He rasped out words to encourage you to lower your hips, the loud sounds of both of you moaning in rapture together when he fully bottoms out filled the room.
"Holy shit." Heeseung's head fell to knock on the headboard, his chest going up and down erratically. "You're so fucking tight."
Heeseung's large cock was throbbing inside of you, filling you completely as if he was made for you. The initial discomfort of the stretch slowly fizzled out, and pleasure took over as you craved more of him. You guide his hand to wrap around your waist, moving your hips up and down on his length.
You were absolutely enamored, lifting yourself before sinking back down with a heavy weight, feeling his mushroom tip pressing on the deepest part of your cervix. Your inside were spasming insanely at the hot contact, leaving you to spill a mantras of moans.
You lean back to rest your palms on his thighs, grinding and rolling your hips, hearing the soft creak of the bed as you begin to bounce on his cock sloppily. Heeseung's moaning and panting under his breath, pulling your waist impossibly close when he feels you clench around his girth deliciously.
"You look so hot. What the fuck." Heeseung gasped out, watching your through half lidded eyes.
His view of you was just amazing— your perfect tits bouncing when you slam your hips down at an angle, your wet pussy squeezing him tightly that he could see a white ring of precum collecting at the base of his shaft. Pieces of your hair were stuck to your forehead, your face so fucked out that he could easily cum from this image of you.
"Fuck, Heeseung, touch me."
You alluring voice was like a spell, coaxing him to fondle your breast while his thumb played with your puffy nipples. You continue to overwhelmed him as you move faster, both of his hands slowly glide down to grab your ass cheeks, aiding you to move back and forth on his cock sensually when he notice you slowing down.
"Keep going baby, I love it when you spread your pussy and ride my cock."
You shake your head in desperation, your thighs trembling in exhaustion. "Can't— I can't go on anymore."
You didn't need to say twice, and he was already pulling you to rest on his chest.
"It's okay, baby, I got you." Heeseung holds you by your love handles before he started thrusting up roughly.
It became apparent that both of you were on edge, becoming overly sensitive to each other. Every drag of his cock against your walls throwing both of you into overdrive. While you were holding onto your dear life to stay afloat, Heeseung was becoming addicted to the pleasure, pounding into you until the loud sound of clapping filled the room.
You're not sure anymore whether it was the sound of his thighs or his balls slapping against your ass.
You couldn't focus anymore, not when you were struggling to stay upright as he was balls deep into you. He was so big, so hard that he was practically throbbing against your walls. Not even a second did he slip out, despite the brute speed and strength he was using to rail you repeatedly at your sweet spot.
The burning knot in your stomach was coming back, getting tighter and tighter as he makes a mess in your insides.
"Heeseung." You're voice crack at the end, nails digging at his back. "I— I'm about to fucking cum."
Your mouth opens in a silent scream as you hide your face in his neck, the feeling of his fingers rubbing and pinching on your clit made you clamp harder around him. You chanting his name over and over again only deepen his desire to absolutely ruined you in the best way possible.
"That's it, baby, cum for me." Heeseung nibbled the lobe of your ear, the movement of his hips faltering gradually as he was near his high as well. "I want to see you cum all over my cock like a good girl."
There was a second of pin-drop silence before you slump on his chest, crying and moaning as you feel your second orgasm shaking your body and soul. Heeseung was not far behind you, stuffing your sore slit with one last crash before you could feel his chest vibrate with loud groans, releasing strings of hot semen into the rubber.
The knot in your stomach was untied, losing its overwhelming pressure, and it mixed wonderfully when Heeseung's face morphed into a satisfying glint, his head falling to rest on the headboard.
It feels like a symphony of wonders, the heat of everything blending in from the heavy breathing and the slick dripping down your thighs as Heeseung pull out of you to tie the soiled condom. You close your eyes, ears pressed against his chest as you follow the lullaby of his heartbeat to calm your mind down.
Your hands mindlessly twirl the chains of his necklace, and Heeseung embraces you tighter in his arms. He leans down to place a sweet kiss on your cheeks, pushing back some stray hairs behind your ears. He let out a tender sigh when you snuggle closer, prompting him to trace your back gently with his fingers.
Your legs was sore but you regained your bearings to kiss him, gently humming when you feel him smiling against your lips.
"I love you, Heeseung." You said softly.
He peered down at you, his eyes saying everything without a word as he gave that lovesick expression, admitting that he will forever be—
"I love you too. Always."
—Your lover boy.
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@moonheecore All rights reserved. Do not translate or post my works anywhere without permission.
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komelrebi-san · 5 months
Text
gem ♡ boy band ver.
will be performing in a band in talent show and it gave me ideas
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feat.: guitarist! childe, drummer! itto, bassist! diluc, keyboardist! kaveh, vocalist! venti synopsis: Hoyo Entertainment recently debuted a boy band! and you are their pretty little stage-styling manager. the catch? they can't seem to keep their hands off you...
a/n: i got carried away oops
tw: MDNI!!, characters slightly ooc, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap kiddos!!), semi-public sex, slight voyeurism, dacryphilia, p->v penetration, slight breeding, semi-clothed sex, edging/orgasm denial, hand fetish, praise kink, riding, marking (hickies), oral f!/m! receiving, slight manhandling, size kink, tummy bulge, tell me if there's more!
don't like, don't read.
guitarist! childe
always laughing on stage, bright cobalt eyes twinkling as he played
the kind to vibe with his members on stage, looking over at them now and then with a wide grin on his face
the cheeky smile he sends to the audience, the kind of smile where dimples appear at the corner of his lips, paired along with a charismatic wink, makes the audience go crazy
but who cares about the audience when he knows that you're backstage, watching?
always makes sure to throw his head back at back at the end of the song when he strums the last chord
he knows you can see his adam apple bob in his throat, he knows you can see how the light hits his jaw line, he knows you can see the sweat dripping down the side of his face, he knows you can see him pant and his hair stick to his forehead
he knows he's hot, and he knows you get antsy when you hear the fans scream
he's definitely the kind to stare at you intently when you're brushing highlighter onto his face, or using a blue eyeliner that matched his big eyes
'mhm? you're blushing~' he remarks, raising a hand to push away yours that's holding the eyeliner pen before cupping your cheek
insists that you kiss him before you go on stage, for good luck purposes only!
(not just that though, your lips are so soft, of course he'd wanna kiss them)
'ajax, you're gonna smudge your lip- mmh!' and he plants his lips firmly on yours, long slender fingers brushing against your waist
he laughs when he sees your red face, turning to walk on stage but not forgetting to plant another kiss on your cheek
oh, it's so cute, he thinks. he does it every time but you never fail to please him with your flushed cheeks
he knows you stare at his hands - dextrous fingers, prominent knuckles and veins, he knows you practically drool over them when he plays guitar
and you make the prettiest sounds when his fingers work their way into your panties
'wait- ajax- not here-' and he cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours, relishing the whimper that bubbled up your throat
'not here, mhm? that's not what your pretty little cunt says, princess. you're dripping wet, i can just slip my fingers right in.'
you're quite sure that you saw stars when his fingers reach a spot inside you that you'll never be able to reach with your own fingers
he chuckles when you break off the heated kiss, a loud moan tumbling out of your pretty lips when he curled his fingers inside you
'no no no, we can't have that, mhm? people are gonna hear.' childe leans in to whisper in your ear, raising his other hand to cover your mouth as you whined.
'unless...that's what you're into. you want them to hear, do you? you want them to hear how good i'm making you feel? naughty girl.'
he laughs breathily when you moan again, the sound muffled by his hand, lewd squelching resonating in the dressing room when he scissors his fingers in your cunt
'tell you what, if you are good and stay quiet, i'll let you cum. how's that?' and he grins when you nod feverishly, bucking your hips into his hand.
he knows you can't stay quiet, he knew, but maybe he'd play nice today, since you're so desperate for his touch, mhm?
he hears venti call for him, so he curls his fingers in a 'come here' motion, pushing his finger pads against that spot inside you that made your legs quiver
with a muffled cry, you gush around his fingers, juices dribbling down your thighs as your walls clamped tight around his fingers
'good girl.' he says, licking your juices clean from his fingers, grinning when you groan at the sight. 'wish me luck, mhm? maybe i'll treat you later.'
drummer! itto
the kinda guy that laughs while throwing his head back as he plays, especially when one of his band members pull off something sick
twirls his drumstick, it looks so cool fr fr
his arms!
there's this once when you told him being able to play drums is cool, so he tried to teach you
made you sit in the drum stool and sat in a chair behind you, wrapping his arms around your figure to take your hands in his own, guiding your hands holding the drumsticks to hit the different drums
back against his firm chest, veins gliding over knuckles when he squeezed your hands gently
oof his hands completely covered your own bc yours were so much smaller than his
you can see the muscles flexing in his arm when he plays, oof he's so strong
and he knows it, he wears tank tops all the time for a reason, bc tank tops meant that ppl can see his arms, good god
in between songs, he runs a hand through his hair and takes a drink of water from his bottle - but you're right there, backstage, watching their performance
so instead, he gulps the water because he knows you see his adams apple bobble up and down
he pours some of the water on his head (under the excuse of the heat) because he knows you can see the water wet his shirt (sticking to his muscles) and lifts his shirt to dry the sweat running down his face
he sees you staring, really - he sees you staring when he twirls his drumstick and pass it from finger to finger, knuckle to knuckle; he sees you staring when he stretches after a performance
'Sorry about my hair, it must give you a lot of trouble, huh?' He says as you stood in front of him, trying your best to curl the hair that fell beside his face
the way his voice was quiet and slightly husky, the way his large hands were dangerously low on your hips, the way he leaned closer to you whilst pulling you into him - everything about him made you melt
you give him a rather nervous smile before leaving him to change into his outfit, but wait - he pulls you back into him
the way he's manhandling you is so hot, ngl
partially, itto really wants to just prove his strength and manliness to you, to prove that he's the best because he knew his band members want you too (who wouldn't, mhm???)
your back was against the wall, his hands hooked under your knees holding you up while his hips rutted into you
'fuck, look at you, taking my big fat cock so well.' he groans. his cock tip was probably kissing your cervix because he was so big. he gripped your blush thighs tight, groaning when your cunt sucks him back in
'shit, you're so tight, doll.' he pants, laughing at your terrible attempt at trying to form a sentence, only incoherent babbles exit your mouth. 'i bet none of the others fuck you like this, mhm?'
you can barely think as he works you impossibly close to your climax, eyes rolled to the back of your head
'fu- i- i'm gonna cum.' he pants, lifting you slightly so that his cock head pressed against your g-spot every time, loud cries ripped from your throat at feeling the knot in your tummy threatening to unravel
he possibly got even harder at seeing your tummy bulge
'yeah? you want me to fill you up? you gonna take my cum like a good girl?' you couldn't answer him, drool running down the corner of your lips, tongue lolling out, way too fucked out to think or respond. but he knew your answer when you whined loudly, walls fluttering around him
he thinks you look pretty, even prettier than usual - barely able to walk, his cum running down your thighs
bassist! diluc
he's the quiet one
but bc of the kind of aura he has, bro's popularity skyrocketed
actually not the type to wear rings and shit, he likes stuff simple
but! the fans went wild when he started wearing them at your suggestion
upon noticing his popularity dramatically increase, kazuha started including more bass riffs in the songs
actually has a good singing voice, but only shines when he does adlibs for venti's vocals
he looks so good on stage, sheesh
long red hair usually pulled back into a ponytail with small braids here and there, bangs curled to frame his face perfectly, rings adorning his long fingers (very much at your genius suggestion, big thank you)
like childe, he interacts with his members on stage
doesn't just open up to everyone, but feels really close to his band members
he's not as outgoing about it, he only subtly shows his trust in his companions
he gives everyone a reassuring nod before lowering his head again to look at his fingers strumming the strings, or pressing down on the fingerboard
bobs his head slightly as he plucks the strings
redid his hair once in the middle of a concert, but he did it by fixing his hair while biting on his hairtie
ooof that was so hot
gentle in his approaches, generally prioritises you and your needs over everything
always brings an extra bottle of water to the dressing room - oh, one of them is for you
gives you a small but sincere smile as you lean closer, gently dabbing eyeshadow/doing eyeliner
the kind to lean closer to you, tuck a fallen strand of hair behind your ear before stroking your cheek
'thank you,' he whispers, leaning in to press the lightest peck to your cheek, before making his way to the stage, not forgetting to give you a small smile - a smile that he reserved only for you
oof i'm whipped
he rlly loves it when you do his hair, bc you're so gentle with him
catches your eyes in the mirror as you worked away on his hair, curling iron in one hand, hairbrush in the other, bobby pins held in your pursed lips and clips on your sweater sleeve
your touch feels so nice, oop
oh, you look so cute, he thinks. you look so cute when you're all focused on him, and not focused on childe's/venti's shenanigans
but - you look even cuter when you're on your knees in front of him, pouty lips wrapped around his dick, struggling to take all of him in your mouth
'you look so pretty like this.' he says, cupping your jaw in one of hands
quiet for the most part, but when you struggle take more of him inside your mouth, pressing your tongue flat against the underside of his shaft and raise a hand to fondle his balls, he loses it
a gutteral groan rumbled from his chest, throwing his head back, reaching to hook his hand on the back of your head, he pushed your head down slightly as he tangles his fingers in your hair
'you're doing so- ah- so good.' he pants, tugging your hair slightly as he bucked his hips, smiling slightly when you gag as his tip hits the back of your throat, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you whimpered
'you look so pretty, good god.' he groans, rutting his hips into your mouth as he cums down your throat
keyboardist! kaveh
pretty!
his hair is so soft!
literally doesn't give you any trouble when you try to style it
tie it up into a ponytail, half-up, braid it - anything works and anything looks pretty on him, and he has zero objections in you trying out new stuff
does the thing where he drums the desk or his thigh or the arms of the chair, his deft fingers playing his keyboard part, tapping away
at first it was really annoying, geez
but it slowly became comforting, calming, even
almost like a kind of silent noise at the back of your mind, soothing you as you do his makeup
big eyes peer up at you, batting his lashes innocently when you are not working away at his eye makeup
and when you are, a soft smile dances on the curves of his lips, feeling the brush against his eyelids or along the corner of his eyes
he's so gentle, so sweet with you, you could practically see all his affection towards you pour out of his eyes
your heart aches when he's around you because his attention is all on you
but at the same time, he wants, needs, craves your attention so bad at the best of times
quite affectionate with you too
ruffles your hair, pats your cheek, swings an arm around your shoulders - you name it
my gosh, have you seen his music scores?
any and all space is filled with doodles of you - and they look so accurate!
he's always focused on every little detail on your face, every tiny perfect imperfection, he can't get enough of you because you're so pretty that it hurts
it's only fair that he captures your beauty perfectly, since you make him look so pretty when he goes on stage
clingy! he's basically half hugging you when he peers up at you, taking in how you were frowning slightly as you worked away at his face, tracing his cheekbone with a dab of highlighter
takes advantage of every single chance he has to be alone with you, and that's how you ended up being pulled onto his lap as his bandmates filed out of the dressing room, heading onto the stage first
'ka- kaveh, you have to go on stage-' you manage to stutter, feeling him grind his bulge into your aching cunt
'shh, you want this too, no?' he whispers, leaning in to press openmouthed kisses to your collarbone
but it was obvious you were needy - small hand fisting and clutching his shirt tight, humping your hips against him to match his rhythm, quiet whimpers leaving your throat when you feel his erection against your barely clothed cunt
'you're so cute.' he says breathily, tugging you closer to him whilst moulding his lips with yours
oh, his lips are so soft, and he tasted so sweet - like strawberry and peach blossoms and all kinds of other nice things, you can never get enough - he tasted just as sweet as the way he treated you
and when he finally slips inside you, both of you groaned loudly, not even caring about other people hearing
you felt so full - his long-fingered hands on your hips, helping you move up and down on his cock
'i can feel myself here.' he pants, caressing the bulge in your tummy with his warm palm. 'shit- your gonna kill me with your clenching- god- just- just relax, yeah? i've gotchu.'
just like he knew all the small details on your face, he also knew exactly how to work his way around your body
'shh shh, you're doing so good for me, so good.' he praises, leaning in to suck on your neck, pretty red and purple marks blooming across your soft skin.
'i'm- nngh- i'm close.' you manage to make out, hands on his shoulder to support yourself.
'i know, princess. me too. cum with me, yeah?' he smiles, pulling you to him to cradle your head in his neck, voice cracking when he feels your walls clamp down on him again
he brought a hand down to swipe across your clit, feeling you quiver in his touch
with a sob, you cum around him, white strings of both your juices dripping out of your cunt as he pulled out
'good girl.' he says, leaning in to press another sweet kiss to your lips.
vocalist! venti
cheeky little shit
straightup just blatantly stares at you in the mirror when you're doing his hair
peeks under your skirt you're bent over, grabbing tools and getting ready to do his makeup (oh, how he wished he can bury his head between your legs)
always always always makes you dye his hair
under the excuse that the other styling team members never gets the turquoise colour quite right
'they can't mix the same colour like you can.' he complains, whining about you rushing off to do kaveh's hair instead of paying attention to him
no, that's a lie, because it literally has nothing to do with hair colours whatsoever
he just thinks that his hair should be only for you to touch and stroke
of course, he's exclusively yours, and only yours
the fans love him - he's lively, he hypes up the concert, he interacts with the fans while singing, leaning over the stage to highfive and take selfies with them
but he's yours, and only yours
stopped doing his braids by himself - must be you that does it!
whines that he can't do it as well as you do, but actually just really enjoys your touch
'ehehe, is this the tint that you use for your cheeks?' he asks, leaning in until you were nose-to-nose, while you are dusting his cheeks with the pretty blush
you don't reply, opting on leaning back to continue doing his makeup
he knew you were only trying your best to convince yourself, because you were staring at him, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, hands shaking slightly
'you always make me look so good on stage, i was wondering how you do that...is it because you use the same things personally? ehehe, i knew it~' he laughs, teal coloured eyes twinkling in feign innocence as he grabs your wrist, tugging you closer to him again
'hey, what flavour is your lip balm today?' he asks, batting his lashes, the rather mischievous glint doesn't leave his eyes as he leans in
but he doesn't wait for you to answer, this little shit guy literally just leans in to sneak a kiss by pressing his lips to yours, relishing the muffled 'mnhm!' of surprise
oh, you are so cute
the fans call him cute, but only if they knew, really, that you are the cutest
you're so sweet - you smell sweet, you and so sweet towards him, and you taste so sweet
your lips taste so sweet (oh, they are strawberry today) - but your cunt tastes even sweeter
he's obsessed with your taste - nose nudging at your clit, tongue eagerly prodding at your entrance, finally delving into your hole when he's had enough of slurping at your arousal
'you taste so sweet.' he groans, the vibrations against your folds drawing another whimper from you
'ven- venti-' you pant, but your voice disappears when he moves his mouth to suck on your clit, 2 dainty fingers slipping into your hole
'fuck- i can do this for hours.' he's almost whining, though really you are the one at his mercy. he was on his knees while you sat on the desk, desperately bucking your hips into his face as he worked his way around your folds
it was so lewd, you think. the loud slurps, your juices and drool dribbling down venti's chin, his whimpers and whines as he buried his face into your crotch as angelic as ever
who, amongst the countless number of fans, would think that their idol who had the most beautiful voice, singing songs that praised innocent, sincere love - would be here, your plush thighs opened wide, muffled whines leaving his mouth as he begged to taste you more?
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joelscruff · 11 months
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feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART TWO
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You can read part one here. i'm so grateful for the positive response for this on the first chapter, thank you so much for sharing your thoughts!! Things are already getting smutty, enjoy 💕 and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip. summary: you're back from college for the summer, staying with your devout catholic parents in your childhood home while they order you around and try to keep authority over you. as an act of rebellion you ask your new neighbor mr. miller to teach you how to play guitar, but it turns out there's a lot more he wants to teach you. (no outbreak, no use of y/n) rating: 18+ explicit (minors, do not interact) warnings: age difference (reader is in her 20s, joel in his 50s), innocent/inexperienced reader, dirty old man joel, corruption (but it's consensual), praise kink (joel calls reader babygirl, sweetheart, etc), dirty talk, mentions of religion (reader's family are very catholic), fingering, masturbation word count: 8.1k ao3
You're relieved the next morning when you look out your bedroom window and see your father's police car and your mother's SUV missing from the driveway. They've both already left for work, which means no twenty questions to answer when you go downstairs, no grilling you about what exactly you're going to be doing today. But it's not like you'd tell them the truth anyway.
You pick your outfit very carefully, shoving modest sweaters and long dresses aside as you search for something specific for Mr. Miller. You want him to look at you again like he did yesterday; the thought makes your thighs clench together again as you dig through the depths of your closet. You settle on an old Sunday School dress that you probably haven't worn since you had your final growth spurt, baby blue and simple. You undress and tug it over yourself, trying to ignore the way it tightens uncomfortably around your chest; it's much too small but you're running out of options.
"That's sexy, right?" you ask your silent bedroom, peering in the mirror at yourself. You were much shorter when you wore the dress last; now the hem settles on your upper thighs, leaving your legs completely exposed. It hugs your curves and accentuates your breasts, cleavage pushed up against the neckline so much that it feels like they could pop out at any moment.
You pick up a discarded pink hoodie and zip it on over the dress, hiding where you're practically bulging out of the material. Maybe you'll take it off later, but for now you don't need any of your neighbors reporting to your parents that they saw you walking down the street half naked.
You spend way too long getting ready, changing things about your hair and makeup over and over until you know you can't put off leaving anymore. You grab a quick bowl of cereal and then, with a resigned look of determination, you swap your flip flops with sneakers and head out into the hot summer day.
Not too many people are outside yet; parents have already left for work, kids are still sleeping, dogs have already been walked. You make it to Mr. Miller's without having to say an awkward hello to anybody, for which you're grateful.
He's not sitting on the step when you get there and for some reason it stops you in your tracks, leaving you standing at the end of his walkway like you had yesterday.
What if he's at work, you dumbass?
You hadn't factored in the possibility that he wouldn't be home. You'd had this ridiculous notion that maybe he'd be waiting for you, watching both sides of the street until you appeared and batted your eyelashes and asked him if you could still take him up on his offer. You'd visualized the whole thing. Like a teenager.
Just knock. Just knock and if he's not there, go home and try again later.
You still haven't moved from the end of his walk when the front door suddenly opens. Your eyes widen in surprise as he appears on his front step in all his disheveled glory, putting his hand across his face to block the sun; he's barefoot, wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a band you don't recognize on the front, and his hair is sticking up in different directions like he's just woken up. He brings a blue coffee mug up to his lips and takes a sip, eyes on you when he brings it back down, giving you a wry smile.
"Good mornin', babygirl," he says with that deep and slightly rough voice, leaning against the door frame, "Was hopin' you'd come back."
You blink a few times, brain whirring and stuttering helplessly as you stare at him. He's so handsome, so much older and rugged and sexy. You feel your panties get wet again and you can't even be mad at yourself; you're too distracted by the gorgeous man in front of you, looking directly at you, calling you babygirl. He's probably older than your father and yet you can't find a single bone in your body that cares in the slightest.
"Hi." you say softly, almost a squeak.
He smiles a bit wider, "Changed your mind, huh?"
You nod quickly, not knowing what else to say. He glances down at your dress and without thinking you shakily grab the zipper on your hoodie, tugging it down and showing him the full thing. You watch with bated breath as his eyes trail to your chest, looking openly and unapologetically at your breasts. He chuckles to himself and looks at your face again, taking another sip of coffee.
"I was hoping... um..." you bite your lip, trying to find the words, "I, uh-"
"Just come on in, darlin'," he interjects, laughing lightly again, "Don't hurt yourself." He moves back from the door a bit, gesturing for you to come inside.
You don't need telling twice. You put your head down, trying not to show him how nervous you are as you walk up his patio steps and slide past him into his house. You can practically hear your parents' voices in your head: "Don't talk to strangers. Don't go into a stranger's house." You're rebelling in more ways than one today.
"That's a pretty dress," he says behind you once you're inside, and you hear him shut the door. No going back now.
"Thank you." you turn to look at him, feeling out of place standing in the house of a man you don't know. You're just in time to see him looking at your body again and your skin heats once more.
"What's your name, sweetheart?" he asks with a crooked smile, charming and natural. You tell him and he just smiles wider, tilts his head to the side, "That's pretty."
"Thank you," you say again, "Um, what's yours?"
"I'm Joel," he puts his hand out for you to take, "Joel Miller. Surprised you didn't ask your momma about me."
You take it and feel your knees go slightly weak at his firm grip, big hand dwarfing yours in size, "I - uh, I did. But she just called you Mr. Miller."
He smirks at that, squeezing your hand in his, "You wanna call me Mr. Miller too? You can."
"Um," you're not sure what to say, biting down on your lip again and feeling flustered when he doesn't release your hand, "Uh..."
"You're a shy one, aren't you?" he asks, voice going a bit soft, soothing, "It's alright, darlin'. I don't mean to make you nervous."
"I'm not." you say it too quickly and you both know it's bullshit. He drops your hand and you turn your attention to the room in front of you, an open concept living space with a kitchen on the opposite side; it's nice, although you're surprised someone is living alone in such a big house.
"So do you, uh...do you have a wife?" you figure you should probably get that out of the way first; you're already planning on sinning in one way today, you don't need to add adultery to the list.
"No, just me." he walks past you and gestures for you to follow him. You do, walking to the kitchen and watching him take a glass down from the cupboard and start filling it with water. You stand there awkwardly, smoothing your dress down a bit and looking around the room.
You're so fucking nervous. You don't even know what he's got on his mind, let alone whether or not you're ready to do it. You imagine he'll lead you up to his bedroom, maybe turn the lights off and close the curtains...light a candle? Put on some music? You hope he'll be gentle and slow, that he'll listen to you. You know from your college friends that most men your age aren't really good at setting the mood, knowing how to do things the right way. Maybe because Mr. Miller - Joel - is older... it'll be better?
"Here, sweetheart, breathe," he hands you the glass of water and you take it with trembling fingers, "You don't need to be scared of me."
"I'm not scared of you," you reiterate, shaking your head and taking a sip.
"Right. Just like you weren't scared yesterday?"
You frown and put the water back down on the counter, "I- I wasn't scared."
He chuckles, leaning against the kitchen island and tilting his head again as he looks at you, "Well darlin', I might've gone back in my house but I saw you from the window. You practically sprinted down the street," he smirks at the memory, "Seemed scared to me."
"I wasn't scared. I'm not scared." You're not sure you're telling him or telling yourself.
"You sure? You're all flustered" he murmurs, and suddenly he's reaching up to hold your chin between his fingers, turning your head toward him. Your lips part in surprise, trembling beneath his touch as his thumb strokes gently against your jaw. You feel your face get even hotter.
He smirks at your response, eyes casting up and down your face quickly before he releases your chin and grabs the glass of water from where you'd laid it back down, turning to pour the rest of it down the sink. While his back is turned you fight to regain your composure, willing all the blood to disperse from your face.
"Well, no time like the present," he says, turning back around and walking past you out of the kitchen, "Guitar's in the living room."
You stare after him, brow furrowing in confusion, "What?"
"You still wanna learn that song, don't you?" he calls behind him, picking up his guitar from where it's leaning against the wall. He sits down on the couch and gestures with his neck for you to come over, smug smile still plain as day on his face.
You slowly make your way over to him, heart pounding in your chest. You seat yourself beside him on the couch, close enough that he can show you his guitar but not close enough that you're touching him. You may want him to touch you desperately but that doesn't change the fact that you're still freaking out right now. Because what does he want? You'd genuinely thought he'd meant something different yesterday with that comment about your fingers. He'd been flirting, hadn't he? Or is that just his nature?
"It's a simple chord progression," Mr. Miller - Joel - immediately begins to demonstrate. He strums on the strings, aligning his fingers carefully at the neck of the guitar and angling it in such a way that you can see what he's doing, "We start with an A and then go into G major pretty quickly."
You watch his fingers, long and almost delicate now as he presses his fingertips to the strings, holds them down as he starts to thumb out a tune. Your lips part unconsciously, eyes trained fully on the tender way he caresses the strings, coaxes beautiful sounds out of the guitar with minimal effort.
"Then D," he murmurs, and you notice that his eyes are also directed at his fingers, making sure he's showing you correctly, like he actually cares that he does it right, "And E into F sharp."
It's not like he's speaking another language - you know basic music theory from simply going to school all your life - but you don't fully understand how the notes and chords he's talking about translate into his fingers, into the shapes they make, where they push down. You know nothing about playing guitar and he's only a few moments away from realizing that; you can't help but already feel humiliated. Why the fuck had you lied to him yesterday? What are you even doing here?
"It pretty much repeats like that the whole way through," he says, starting the song over and strumming a bit slower, showing you his chord changes more purposefully, "But as I said yesterday there's lot's of room for some adlibbin' here and there, doesn't have to be by the book."
You feel yourself nod, although you still have no idea what he's talking about. He suddenly stops his movements on the guitar, directing his eyes back to you. You swallow down the nervous lump in your throat once again, willing yourself to look back.
"Wanna give it a try?" he asks, and without waiting for your answer he hands you the guitar. You take it from him with wide eyes, your own hands fitting into place where his had been only seconds ago, still warm; it makes you shiver.
"Um," you look down at the guitar, trying to shape your fingers in a similar way to what he'd done. Your nose scrunches up in concentration and confusion.
"Starts with A," Joel says, and you look up from the guitar to see him smiling softly at you, urging you to play him something.
Your fingers stay frozen on the guitar, tongue darting out to wet your lips. You can feel anxiety burning in the pit of your stomach.
"Okay, now I'm scared," you admit, voice shaky and small.
He doesn't say anything; you look up again and see him peering at you thoughtfully, brow furrowed. You hope he's figuring it out internally so you don't have to say it out loud, admit what a fraud you are.
"...You don't know how to play, do you?" he asks finally.
You bite your lip and hang your head in shame, grip loosening on the guitar, "No. I'm sorry."
To your surprise he laughs, deep and genuine. You lift your head back up to see him settle back in the couch a bit, shaking his head as he grins at you. You can't help but feel yourself smile back at him.
"You're adorable," he says with a sincerity that puts your tummy in knots, your gaze averting his once again, "I mean it, I can't even be mad 'cause you're so sweet, darlin'."
"M'not," you mumble, slightly embarrassed as you hand the guitar back to him and shake your head, "I'm a liar."
He takes it from you, "Why'd you lie? Coulda said you didn't play, I wouldn't have judged you for it."
You shrug, still not looking at him, "I don't know, I..." you sigh, biting your lip, "I wanted... I wanted you to think..." You don't finish but you're pretty sure he understands, aware of him nodding slowly in your peripheral vision.
"You're sweet," he repeats, voice softer this time, "So sweet, babygirl."
You shiver again at the pet name, finally bringing yourself to look at him again. He's still looking at you, dark eyes boring into your skin, lips turned up into that wry smile again.
"C'mere," he says, even softer, and you watch as he open his legs, moves back a bit on the couch and pats the empty spot in front of him. You stare, breath hitching at the realization that he wants you to sit there, "I wanna show you somethin'," he urges, "I won't bite, promise."
With shaky legs you reposition yourself on the couch, getting up and sitting back down between his wide legs. As soon as you're seated he brings the guitar down into your lap and sits up a bit, pushes his chest against your back as his arms wrap around your nervous form, holding the guitar in front of you.
"Watch my fingers," he says quietly, and you find that his voice is speaking directly into your left ear, breath warm and welcome against your skin. You have no choice but to obey, not that you'd even want to make any other choice.
He curves his fingers along the neck of the guitar again, pushing down the strings in a few different places and holding it there. He strums firmly, the back of the guitar pushing lightly into your belly with the tension.
"That's a C chord," he murmurs, strumming again, "See where my fingers are?"
"Yeah," you reply, barely a whisper; your mouth has gone dry.
"You hold your fingers as hard as you can against the strings," he continues, "It hurts at first, when you're learning, but the longer you play the more you build up calluses. You know what calluses are?"
You shake your head, unable to speak, too lost in the warmth of his breath against the nape of your neck, the masculine smell of him tingling your nose. He pulls his hand back from the strings and brings it up near your face, showing you his fingers.
"These are calluses," he explains, referring to the deep grooves embedded in the tips of his fingers, "They help you hold the strings down easier so it doesn't hurt."
You stare at his fingers, getting lost in their length and size, their girth. You feel yourself becoming wet in your underwear, clenching around nothing at the thought of one of those calluses touching you down there where you need it most. Your breath hitches again, thighs rubbing together involuntarily.
"Lemme show you," he murmurs, and to your surprise he suddenly takes your left hand in his and brings it to the neck of the guitar. You watch with bated breath as he carefully positions your fingers over the correct strings, holds them there with his own, "Play that."
With your shaky right hand you thumb the strings at the base of the guitar, a clear chord ringing out into the open room. Your eyebrows raise in surprise and he laughs again, charming and soft.
"There you go," he says softly, "First chord. Good girl."
The words send another pulsating wave of wetness into your underwear and you tremble beneath his touch, feeling your brows furrow in pleasure at the feeling of him being so close to you while you feel like this. Your hips buck up a bit but you feel too good to be embarrassed.
"Somethin' wrong?" he asks you gently, voice still close to your ear, "You're all flustered again, babygirl."
You hum, closing your eyes tight for a moment and trying to breathe, but all you can smell is him. All you can feel is him. You swallow tightly when you feel his touch ghost against your thigh, eyes opening to see him press his palm wide against your bare skin. You watch with parted lips as his thumb strokes the skin just below the hem of your dress, eyes hazy when he pushes himself against you from behind a bit tighter.
"Why'd you really come here, sweetheart?" he breathes, almost a whisper, "Tell me the truth."
You take a deep and shaky breath and feel yourself leaning back into him, eyes closing again as he slowly strokes your thigh, "You know why," you whisper.
He hums in response, nosing your ear gently and breathing you in, left hand still holding yours tightly against the neck of the guitar, "I do," he murmurs. You feel as he presses a wet kiss against your earlobe, beard rough against your skin. Your eyes roll back when he takes it into his mouth, sucks gently on it while he squeezes your thigh.
You're in heaven, completely at his mercy as you fall back further against him between his legs, your own going lax and loose the more he touches you. No one has ever done this to you, put their mouth on any part of you that wasn't your lips, put their hands anywhere near where you're currently aching to be touched. You watch as Joel's fingers inch upwards along your thigh, slipping past the hem of your dress. You already know where he wants to put his fingers next.
"I'm a virgin," you squeak without warning, panic suddenly brewing in your stomach. His hand freezes on your thigh and he pulls back from your ear. Why the fuck did you say that?
Now he'll be a gentleman, he'll take you off his lap and tell you to leave, tell you he can't be the one to take your virginity. You've seen this in movies, read it in books, heard it firsthand from your friends in college. Men don't like the responsibility of being your first, don't like the idea of a girl getting attached to them. And Joel... he's a grown man and you're just a twenty one year old Catholic mess with way too much baggage. There's absolutely no way he'll want to touch you now.
"Let's put this down," he whispers, and carefully helps you move the guitar off your lap and place it to the side. Here it comes, he's gonna tell you to get up and go home. You wait for him to inevitably push you from the couch, awkwardly stand up and lead you to the front door.
But that doesn't happen. Instead, you watch with wide and confused eyes as he suddenly puts both hands on your bare thighs, squeezing them gently beneath his wide palms, "You ever been touched like this, darlin'?" he asks you quietly.
You shake your head, "N-no."
His thumbs stroke your skin softly, tenderly. You feel as he sits up a bit more and tightens his legs around you, holding you in place, "You like the way that feels?"
"Yes," you whisper, soft and secret, "Feels good."
"That's good, it's s'posed to," Joel murmurs, nosing your ear again, "Now let's pull up this pretty dress a little bit," the words send a shock to your system, eyes widening in surprise. He doesn't wait for you to help, just immediately goes for the hem of your dress and hikes it up your legs, exposing more of your bare thighs and a hint of your panties, blue and lacy to match your dress, "Oh, you're just a pretty little thing aren't you?" he breathes, voice hot against your ear, "You really never been touched?"
"Never," you repeat, and he just hums and presses a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, making your breath hitch, "Th-that doesn't bother you?"
"Not at all, sweetheart," he breathes, tightening his grip on your thighs; the feeling of his large palms on your flesh makes you whimper slightly, looking down at where he's holding you and shivering, "Makes me want you more than I already do."
Your pussy is throbbing in your panties and you're sure there must be a stain through your dress, through the couch. You rub your thighs together and whimper again, head falling back against Joel's shoulder. You feel him kiss your hair, watch as his hands slide up your thighs so his fingertips are just slightly touching the edges of your underwear.
"You're all wet, aren't you?" he asks softly, soothingly, "Been sittin' here soaking my couch this whole time, huh? Want me to touch you so bad, don't you, babygirl?"
You hear yourself make a strange noise through your teeth, a hnnng sound that makes him chuckle, "You like that, don't you? You like bein' my babygirl?"
"I do," you whisper.
"That's good," he murmurs, "That's real good, babygirl." His thumbs hook into your panties then, tugging gently, "Now let's take these off," he says, beginning to slide them down, "so I can take a look at this pretty little pussy you've been savin' just for me."
You both watch as your panties slip down your bare legs with ease, dress still hiding your pussy from him entirely. It's impossible not to notice the enormous dark spot in the fabric, glistening in the sunlight. You can't help but feel embarrassed.
"Oh, baby," he groans, fisting them in his hand and thumbing the dark spot tightly, "So wet."
"Why does that happen?" you ask, swallowing around the anxious lump in your throat, knowing you're just advertising your inexperience even more by asking.
"Means you're turned on, sweet girl" he explains, thumb still pressed firmly against the wet spot as he presses another wet kiss to your ear, sloppier this time, "I'm turnin' you on."
"You are," you agree shakily, "It happened last night too, after..."
"After?"
"After I dreamed about you."
He smiles against your skin, dropping the panties to the floor and bringing his hand back down to your thigh; his thumb is wet and sticky against your skin, "You're a naughty little thing, aren't you? Did you touch yourself? Make yourself come thinkin' about me?"
"No," you shake your head, "I haven't... I've never..."
He groans in understanding, but not in an irritated or angry way. It's arousal, you can tell by the way his legs tighten around your trembling form, pulling you in closer. He pulls up the hem of your dress and exposes your wet and aching pussy to the both of you, lips bare and soft against his couch. You hear his breath hitch behind you when it comes into view.
"Fuck," he says, voice low and rough with arousal, "Look at you."
He barely hesitates, reaching down and thumbing your outer lips with both hands, his other fingers splaying against your inner thighs. You squirm at the feeling, brows scrunching together when he gently pinches your soft lips and sucks your earlobe back into his mouth.
"So soft, babygirl," he whispers, releasing it with a wet pop, "Look at that." You don't think he's actually telling you to look, more-so talking to himself as he caresses the outer part of your pussy gently, "So pretty."
"I-um... I shaved it," you whisper, "Just in case."
"Babygirl, you didn't need to do that," he noses your ear and you feel his breath, hot and sticky against your skin, "Woulda been pretty either way."
You feel your cheeks warm, "My roommates said most guys don't like-"
"Am I most guys?" he whispers, and continues to stroke your pussy lips up and down with his thumbs, "You know how old I am, babygirl?"
"N-no." His touch is becoming too much, too distracting. It feels good to have him touching you like this but it's still not where you need him to touch you, the slick part inside that's absolutely aching for his fingers feeling desperately wetter.
"Why don't you take a guess, see how accurate you are."
"Um," you barely understand what he's even talking about, eyes trained on where he's stroking you, "F-fourty?"
He laughs immediately, "Now we both know that's not your real guess, sweetheart."
You bite your lip, watching his thumbs, "Well... I don't wanna... I don't wanna hurt your feelings."
He smiles, "You're sweet. But I don't care, darlin', gimme your real guess."
You sigh shakily, "Fifty."
"Close," he breathes, and you watch with a whimper as he begins to drag his thumbs up and down your wet slit, lips too puffy to show him what's beyond, "That's real close, bit higher."
Higher? Fuck.
"Fifty...three?"
He dips the tip of his thumbs ever so slightly inside your slit, then brings them out again and pushes your own wetness across your outer lips, making your skin glisten, "Higher."
"F-fifty five?"
"Fifty six," he finally says, still thumbing your juices all along your pussy. You're not sure how to respond, surprised by the number but also desperately turned on, waiting for him to finally slip inside where you're begging him to touch, "That make you uncomfortable?" he asks after a moment of silence, and you swear you hear a bit of hesitance in his question as his hands freeze, waiting for you to reply before he goes any further.
"No," you reply, shaking your head slowly, thoughtfully, "It doesn't."
"You're sure?" he asks quietly, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice, "Because I can stop, sweetheart. Just say the word, I'll let you go home."
You shake your head again, more frantically this time at the thought of him releasing you from his embrace, "I promise, Mr. Miller," you whisper, then quickly correct yourself, "Joel."
"You can call me Mr. Miller, babygirl," he whispers, and you watch with hooded eyes as he slowly pulls your swollen lips apart, exposing the innermost parts of yourself to his living room. Your mouth pops open in surprise, eyes widening at how wet and sticky you are, a big drop of your own wetness pushing past your aching hole and dribbling out onto his hand.
"Gonna take care of this perfect untouched pussy, I swear," he groans, rough and low in your ear, pinching your outer lips again as his gaze bores into your sopping cunt, "Gonna make her feel so good."
--
With wobbly legs Joel had helped you up from the couch, chuckling when you'd tripped up almost immediately. With sure and steady hands he'd straightened you up, carefully removed your hoodie and discarded it on the couch, "Won't need this," he'd said softly, "Let's go get in my bed, sweetheart."
Now he holds you on the edge of his bed, inside a bedroom that feels cozy and masculine, that smells like him. His bed wasn't made when he'd lead you inside but other than that he has a clean bedroom, small and comfortable. He now has you sitting in his lap with your legs wide, hooked over his own while you both face the full length mirror on the wall.
"W-what are we doing?" you ask breathlessly, feeling slightly embarrassed at your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks are still hot, hair messy and dress falling off, positively debauched and certainly no longer the good little Catholic girl your parents raised. You watch as Joel fingers the hem of your dress again and slowly pulls it up, exposing your dripping pussy to the mirror and to the both of you.
"Wanna show you what I'm doing," Joel murmurs, coaxing your legs even wider and pulling apart your swollen lips once again, showing you the untouched part of yourself you've never seen before, "How else are you gonna learn if you can't see, babygirl?"
You nod slowly, watching as he spreads you wide. You bring your eyes up to his face in the mirror to see the way he's watching you. His eyes are dark and lustful, hair still tousled from the early morning, scruff thick and scratchy against your neck and shoulder. He follows your gaze and peers into your eyes in the mirror, pulls you wider; you squirm a bit and close your eyes, feeling slightly embarrassed at the sight.
"You're shy, arent you?" he whispers, a smile in his voice.
"I've just... I've never..." you shake your head, opening your eyes again to turn and look at him, forgetting about the mirror for a moment, "No one's ever looked at me like this before."
He smiles softly at you, somehow tender and fond despite the part of him that clearly wants to devour you, corrupt you. He takes one hand and brings it to your chin, tilts your face up to his and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, gentle and soft. You kiss him back, eyes closing as you slowly breathe him in, feel his beard rub tantalizingly against your cheek.
"You've done that before, haven't you?" he asks you once he pulls away, finger still on your chin as he looks deep into your eyes, "You've been kissed?"
You nod but bite your lip, "Yes, but...not like that."
He tilts his head, "Like what?"
"Like they really want me," you whisper, eyes falling to his lips and silently wishing he'll do it again, "Like they're not holding back."
Almost like he can read your mind, he leans forward and presses his lips to yours once again, this time gently easing his tongue inside your mouth. You take it openly, loving the way he pushes it against yours, smooth and wet. He tastes like coffee; it's pleasant and warm and you're so distracted by the kiss that you don't realize he's taken his hand from your chin and moved it back to your pussy, carefully sliding his index finger beyond your lips and stroking upward.
Your hips buck immediately, still kissing him hard and loving the way he doesn't pull back, doesn't slow things down or even speed things up, just keeps it to your comfort level, lets you decide what the kiss is. You moan against his mouth when you feel the callus on the tip of his index rub lightly against a particularly sensitive spot. It's only then that you feel you need to pull away for breath, leaving your forehead pressed against his and letting out a long exhale.
"You really needed that, didn't you?" he murmurs softly, calm and gentle, "My babygirl needs to be touched so bad, doesn't she?"
You nod frantically, opening your eyes again, "Please, Mr. Miller," you breathe shakily, "Please make me feel good."
He groans again, closes his eyes and pushes himself up into you; you can suddenly feel something very hard beneath your dress and you're not entirely uneducated; you know exactly what it is. Out of curiosity you grind down a bit on him and he presses his lips to your neck again, humming against the skin.
"That's my cock, you know that right?" he breathes, "You ever felt a cock, sweetheart? Even through someone's clothes?"
You shake your head, feeling that familiar nervousness in the pit of your stomach at the thought. He must sense your uneasiness because he immediately pulls himself up a bit, pushes you forward so you're not seated directly on top of the hard shape of him anymore.
"Don't worry about that, today's lesson is about you," he says soothingly, stroking your pussy again and making you tremble, "I'm gonna teach you how to come, okay?"
You inhale shakily, feeling slightly relieved; it's not that you don't want to see his cock - God knows you really do - but you're so inexperienced, you really have no idea what you're doing. You feel excited - and kind of touched, in a way - that Joel is going out of his way to teach you exactly what you've been missing, things you've only heard about. Today's lesson....it repeats in your mind as you watch him touch you in the mirror, thumbing your lips wide; does that mean there'll be more?
"Okay, babygirl, here's what we're gonna do," he murmurs, breaking you away from your thoughts. "See this lil' nub right here?" You nod, peering in the mirror at the tiny hooded bump Joel is lightly prodding, sending a buzzing electricity throughout your body, "That's your clit, she's the most sensitive part of your pussy."
"I knew that," you breathe "I think."
He smiles at your reply, "You're gonna touch your clit, that's all you're gonna do. Just touch it and rub it until you feel yourself gettin' close," he moves his hand up to palm your stomach, "You'll feel it right here, in your belly. You'll know it's comin'."
"Okay," you whisper, nodding again.
"When you feel it buildin' in there, you tell me, and I'll make you come."
"And coming...that means..." you wince at your stupidity, "That's an orgasm, right?"
"Yes, darlin'," he murmurs; his face is suddenly blocked by your face as he kisses the back of your neck but you swear you can hear him smile, "That's an orgasm. I'm gonna give you your first orgasm, that sound good?"
"Yes," it's almost a squeak, desperate and shaky. You watch in the mirror as Joel takes your right hand and carefully brings it to your pussy, extends your index finger alongside his own and gently presses down, "Oh," you whimper, hips bucking again, "Oh."
"You're okay," he reminds you softly, prodding your finger harder against yourself, "It's just like the guitar, you gotta be firm."
It feels incredible, both yours and Joel's fingers tapping the tiny bundle of nerves with a steadiness you know is only possible because of him. Without his guidance you probably would have already dropped your hand, overwhelmed by the sensation.
"And now you rub," he explains softly, thumb and pinky curling around your other fingers as he holds your index steady, rubs it back and forth against your clit. Your mouth pops open, eyes going hazy again as you watch his movements in the mirror, "There you go," he whispers, and you catch him watching your expression, the pure bliss in your eyes as he makes you feel something you've never felt before, "Good girl, sweetheart, that's it."
"Oh my God," you breathe, aware that you probably shouldn't be taking the Lord's name in vain at a moment like this, but somehow the act feels almost godly in itself, a sensation of pure pleasure that you've never felt before travelling all throughout your body, "It feels- oh my God."
"Tell me," Joel breathes behind you, still holding your hand and letting you slowly start to rub yourself on your own, taking the lead, "Tell me how it feels, baby."
"It's- it's so good," you whine, tossing your head back against his shoulder, "Mr. Miller," you shake your head frantically, "I feel it already, Mr. Miller, in my stomach."
He seems genuinely surprised at that, eyebrows raising in the mirror, "Okay, babygirl," he whispers, "Lemme make you come."
He removes your hand, places it on your thigh. Without any hesitation you bring it up to grip his arm, holding it tightly as he brings his own hand back down to your pussy and starts to rub your clit again, this time at his own pace. Your jaw drops, eyes rolling back as he stimulates you perfectly, finger stroking back and forth at a pace that sends a wet squelching sound throughout the quiet room. You can't even feel embarrassed, too overwhelmed by the feeling of finally being touched.
You can't see the mirror anymore, head tilted back so far against Joel's body that you're just staring at his ceiling, mouth open wide as numerous loud and completely uncharacteristic sounds blare from your mouth, long and high and indiscernible.
"That's it," he groans in your ear, a deep rumble that urges you on as he continues to rub you furiously, "There you go, there you go. Fuck, babygirl, give it to me. Fuckin' give it to me."
His words send you over the edge and you feel yourself stiffen in his lap, legs shaking uncontrollably as you writhe within his grasp. He slows his movements, coaxes you through it, continues to whisper praises in your ear as you have your very first orgasm in his arms. Your chest is heaving with exertion as you cry out, tears stinging your eyes.
"Mr. Miller," you whimper, closing your eyes and letting him hold you tight, your grip loosening on his arm, "Mr. Miller." It's like a prayer, the way his name rolls off your tongue. Not even an hour has passed since you first stepped foot in his house and you're already prepared to make Joel Miller your new God, kneel before him and give thanks for everything he's just done for you.
"Shhh," he coos, removing his fingers and letting you relax into his embrace, "You're alright, I've got you."
You continue to whimper and shake, vaguely aware of him slowly beginning to lay flat against the edge of the bed, taking you with him. You lay on top of him, breathing heavily.
"So good," you whisper, voice positively wrecked from what he's just done, "Felt so good."
"I know," he murmurs back, kissing your hair again and wrapping his arms around your middle, "I know, baby."
"M'gonna fall asleep," it's barely a whisper now, quiet and relaxed, "Sorry." You don't last long enough to hear what he says in response.
--
You wake a bit later, confused for a moment when you open your eyes and are greeted by an unfamiliar ceiling. It's only when you look down at yourself and see Joel's duvet wrapped around you that it comes flooding back. You smile unconsciously, inhaling his scent and turning to bury your nose in his pillow. Everything smells like him now, including you.
You glance over at the clock on his bedside table: 12:04PM. You slept for a solid two hours. It doesn't surprise you, not after the shitty sleep you had last night and the absolutely ridiculous orgasm he gave you right before you drifted off, but still....two hours? And he didn't wake you?
You sit up slowly, squinting at the afternoon sun flooding through the blinds on his window. You swear you can hear some faint music coming from somewhere, a stereo nearby? A car passing? Then, your eyebrows shoot up as you fling yourself out of bed and run to the window, opening it up and peering down at the patio below.
Joel is sitting on his front step again, wearing different clothes now; he must have showered after you'd fallen asleep...probably took care of himself as well. The thought makes you shiver but you push it away, instead focusing on the lovely sounds emanating from his guitar, a slow and gentle tune that instantly relaxes you.
You pull back from the window and face the mirror nearby, assessing yourself. You're still the same person you were a few hours ago but something is different; your hair is a mess, makeup smudged, dress disheveled. With a bit of hesitance you slowly pull up the hem and expose yourself, eyeing yourself down there where Joel had touched you. You find that it doesn't make you as nervous to look at it now, unable to help the small smile that appears on your face when you remember the way Joel had worshipped it mere hours ago.
The memory of Joel has you leaving his bedroom quickly, descending the stairs in his house and walking into the open living space once again. You spot your hoodie on the couch and grab it, zipping it back on as you search for your panties; they're nowhere to be found. Your brow furrows as you pull up a few of the couch cushions but come up emptyhanded.
You smooth your dress down; it's long enough that it doesn't show you're not wearing underwear, but you'll probably have to hold it down when you walk home. The last thing you want is to expose yourself to one of your elderly neighbors.
You take a few deep breaths and walk to the front door, readying yourself to face the man who just gave you the best experience of your life. As soon as you open it he turns on the step, still playing his relaxing tune and looking you up and down.
"Hi," you breathe, a little shy, playing with your hands a bit as you walk toward him.
"Hi, babygirl," he says with a kind smile, nodding to you, "Sleep good?"
"Yeah," you reply, shuffling over and settling down beside him on the step, "Sorry, I didn't mean to sleep for so long."
He smiles again, tilts his head, "You can sleep in my bed as long as you want, darlin'. Any time."
You feel your skin burn, looking down at your bare knees and biting your lip. He keeps playing the song, humming to himself as he does it; it's not a tune you recognize but that doesn't matter, just listening to him play is enough to make you feel warm and fuzzy.
There it is, you think to yourself, the attachment. It's already starting.
You look up at him again, smiling fondly at his look of concentration as he strums steadily. Your gaze falls to his fingers on the neck of the guitar and you swallow, remembering all too well where exactly they've been. The song finishes on a long and sweet note, positive and lovely. You can't help but playfully clap for him, grinning when he rolls his eyes and lays the guitar behind him.
"What song was that?" you ask, eyes bright as he peers over at you.
"Aha, Take on Me," he replies with a smirk, "Never heard that one?"
You shake your head.
"Wow, you really are just a kid, aren't you?" he murmurs, giving you another once-over before he turns back to look at the street, still pretty empty. Your brow furrows at his words, suddenly unsure.
"Is that...does that bother you?" you ask hesitantly.
He turns back to you and immediately shakes his head, "Not at all, sweetheart. Just means I have a lot more to teach you."
Your skin tingles at that and you feel yourself throb uncomfortably against his wooden step. You look down at yourself, making a face.
"What is it?"
"I'm already..." you shake your head, feeling embarrassed, "It's... I'm wet again."
"Jesus," he groans, almost laughing as he tilts his head back and looks over at you with a wide grin, "Don't say that to me, babygirl. Not when you gotta head home."
You look at him, confused, "I do?"
He nods, frowning slightly, "Your momma drove down the street about ten minutes ago, figure she'll probably be wonderin' where you are."
You sigh exasperatedly, rolling your eyes, "I'm so sick of living with my parents. I can't wait to go back to college."
"Poor baby," he says softly, "C'mere." He pats his knee and you go to sit on it but freeze, assessing the street.
"What if someone sees?" you ask quietly, unsure.
He seems to think for a second, then nods and takes your hand. He helps you stand up and leads you quickly into the foyer of his house again, shutting the door and wrapping his arms tightly around you.
"Mmmm," he hums into your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, "You smell so sweet, darlin'."
"I smell like you," you whisper back, unable to hold back your grin, "I smell like...sex."
He holds you tighter and pulls back to look at you, tilting your chin up and leaning down to kiss your lips. It's soft and unhurried; he still tastes like coffee, bittersweet and delicious,
"You come back here any time you want, okay?" he murmurs against your lips, "I mean it, any time. But especially when that pussy's wet and achin' for me. I'll give her what she needs, babygirl."
You shiver and lean up to capture his mouth again, nodding through the kiss and whispering, "I will, Mr. Miller."
--
You walk home quickly, holding your dress down and feeling more rebellious than you've ever felt in your life whenever the warm summer breeze ruffles past the fabric and onto your bare pussy, reminding you that you're not wearing any panties. They're lost somewhere in Joel's house; the thought gives you butterflies.
Your mother is bustling around in the kitchen when you get home, putting away groceries. She's distracted enough that she doesn't notice when you slip past the kitchen and head upstairs to change your clothes.
After showering - something you desperately didn't want to do but had to - you change into a more modest outfit and retreat back down the stairs, walking into the kitchen so your mom knows you're back.
"Oh, where were you?" she asks, chopping up a carrot on a cutting board in front of her, barely looking up, "Did you meet up with Bethany? Alice?"
Oh shit, you hadn't thought of a cover story, "Uh, yeah, met up with both of them."
"Lovely," she replies with a smile, finishing chopping and turning to look at you, "And they're well?"
"Yep," you nod, hopefully not too much, "I, uh, might be helping out at the soup kitchen soon."
Your mother claps her hands together and walks toward you, "Oh, I'm so happy to hear that," she suddenly furrows her brow, looking at your face with slight confusion, "Are you alright, dear?"
"O-oh, just... just warm from my shower."
She smiles and nods, turning away from you again, "Could you help me chop some veggies? I'm making soup tonight, might be good practice for when you're volunteering."
"Yeah, sure. No problem."
You reach up and touch your face one last time, feeling the heat still etched beneath your skin that you know for a fact is certainly not from your shower. You take one last steadying breath, then walk forward to help your mother.
You come back here any time you want, Joel's voice echoes in the back of your mind. You start to wonder how long you'll be able to last, but you already know the answer.
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moon7jay · 4 months
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MINORS DNI
Yk how Jay said that when he's practicing a piece on his guitar he sometimes gets so frustrated that he feels like screaming? well imagine a frustrated and angry Jay because I'm about to lose my mind cuz of these pics
You'd be propped up on the couch, watching your boyfriend play the same tune over and over again, cursing getting louder and intense cuz he can't seem to get it right. Your eyes run all over his attire and how hot he looks like this, your brain conjuring up another way to help him which would be pleasurable for the both of you
"baby?" your seductive voice floats across to him, looking up from where he's sat hunched over his guitar, on the chair right across from u, almost dropping the instrument when he sees the sight in front of him
There u are with your legs parted, leaning back on one hand while your other hand rubs and parts your glistening pussy lips, panties thrown aside somewhere.
You wanna laugh at how enamored he looks with your movements, his breathing becoming heavy, tongue coming out to lick over his parched lips on instinct
"come over here and take your frustrations out between my legs, I'm better than that guitar" u coo, your voice and words wrap around him like hot caramel, a silent curse falling from his lips as he sets the instrument aside with shaky hands, adrenaline courses through his veins as he makes his way over to your sinful figure, former frustration turning into hot lust that flows directly between his legs, his hard cock throbbing and straining against his dress pants
you bite your lower lip as u watch him unbuckle his belt, eyes fixated on your leaking pussy and the way you part your juicy lips to give him a view of what he's gonna be wrapped in within a few seconds. He groans when u dip a finger inside experimentally, he was gonna obliterate your greedy cunt
He clenches his jaw and hurriedly unzips his pants, feeding his leaking dick out, giving you no warning before he's breaching your entrance, burying himself inside you to the hilt
A loud gasp falls from your lips, hand giving out as u fall on your back, hands coming up to tangle in his hairs. His hot breaths of exertion fall on your face while he grunts heavily, snapping his hips urgently against your pussy, in and out, in and out. His dick makes out with your cervix, squelching and flesh meeting flesh sounds filling up the studio
"god your cunt is milking me baby-fuck" he groans, biting your lower lip as he digs his fingers into your plush thighs, parting your legs more, increasing the tempo of his animalistic thrusts, eyes rolling back due to the heavenly feeling of your wet, gummy walls providing his cock the friction and relief that it demands
"Mhmmn j-jay just like that-a loud moan cutting off your whine when he folds u in half, squeezing your thighs together to make your cunt a tighter fit, watching how his thick cock goes in and out of your messy hole, covered in white, thick pussy juices
"What's our safe word baby" He asks while grunting, his assault and hold on your body only getting rougher
"b-blue"
"fuck yeah, u're gonna need it cuz I'm about to play u all night long baby, my dick's not leaving your fuck hole before morning" he pants, sweat dripping down his forehead, down to the exposed skin of his chest, eyes feasting over your squirming body and the way your hands are fisting the couch covers. His dick getting harder inside of you "god u were made to fuck, so fucking hot " he groans
Guitar lessons long forgotten, your clenching cunt being the only thing left on his mind, head filled with the thoughts of breeding you on the company couch
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hyunjinspark · 4 months
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star lost with you | hyunjin au | part 18
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pairing: idol! hyunjin x artist! reader
genre: friends to lovers, so much angst, smut, fluff, set in the idolverse, mutual pining, unrequited love, forbidden romance, slowburn (!!!) soulmate au, star-crossed lovers
synopsis: working in a quaint little art store, you’ve had the honor of meeting all kinds of people, but you’ve never met somebody like him. there were many reasons hyunjin returned to his hometown; a getaway from the ephemeral and fast-paced life of the city, so he could fall in love with life again. he thought he was prepared for everything, to study art in the way that he’s always wanted to, but what he didn’t anticipate was meeting you. hwang hyunjin realises that sometimes, the best things in life happen unplanned. 
word count: 33K
warnings: cursing, drinking, mature content, heavyyyy angst, mutual pining, sexual tension, jealousy, unrequited love, mature language, dirty jokes, arguments, whipped hyunjin, a big confrontation, lots of heartbreaks, mentions of diet, mentions of threats, toxic idol culture, a scene of unwarranted sexual advances! (not from hyunjin)
a/n: whew, this is another big chapter and picks up from hyunjin's pov after he moved back to the city, hope that's not confusing! there's a lot of toxicity surrounding idol culture, and features mature language and content throughout. please read the warnings to make sure you're comfortable with everything. this fic has taken a life of it's own, and im really enjoying focusing on yn's character arc, along with the obvious lovestory. this isn't a feel-good chapter, it features a lot of angst and uncomfortable situations, but i promise things will get better after this! anyway, this was very fun to write and picks up on one of my favorite arcs of this story. please get comfortable with snacks and a blanket to read. you can listen to my star lost playlist here!
important: all works are fiction, and do not in any way represent the real personalities or real people, they exist only as faceclaims, and are fictional characters.
masterlist
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Five Months Ago.
The electric blue guitar in Hyunjin’s hands felt familiar. He adjusted the strap around his body, he was getting used to the weight of it again. It had been a while since he’d touched it, fingers skimming over the strings. If he focused on this, he could ignore the blaring lights in his face. 
“Still not used to the spotlight, Jinnie?” Jisung asked, elbowing him in the stomach. Hyunjin doubled over, avoiding another attack from the man, “Ouch. The lights are brighter than I remember”
“Well, how else will they get our pretty faces on camera?” Jisung grinned, stepping in front of him, and thankfully blocking the heat of the lights. 
“I’m…really hot” Hyunjin declared, drops of sweat dripping down his forehead, “I hope they can fix the cooling in here”
Jisung sighed, lifting his guitar to help him tune it, taking the weight momentarily off his hands. As he did that, someone stepped up to Hyunjin, a little electric fan and makeup palette in hand, “Can you please hold this? Your makeup’s running”
“Sorry” He apologised, even though it was no one’s fault. The stage equipment and lights made the set far too hot, the air conditioning was broken and they’d only just begun. Hyunjin couldn’t fathom what the full day of filming would look like. He held the little fan to his face, the cool instantly relaxing his muscles with relief, shoulders sagging from tension. Jisung stood between them still, trying to tune his guitar and the makeup lady awkwardly stepped closer, patting down the foundation on Hyunjin’s cheeks, “Did you tan when you were away?”
“Um, I suppose. I was out in the sun a lot” He responded, but realised quickly that she didn’t really want a response. She was berating him because his usual foundation no longer matched him. Her lips pulled into a thin line, “You should be careful”
Hyunjin’s eyebrows shot up. Careful about…what exactly? When he was in Daejon, swimming in the Creek, or lounging away in the sun, his first concern wasn’t exactly putting on any heavy sunscreen. He was away from the world of…such.
“He just doesn’t know his face would cost the company millions of won" Jisung joked. It was irresponsible, sure, but he had more important things distracting him at the time. At the memory of the bright Daejon sun, Hyunjin smiled, closing his eyes briefly to revel in the memory. If he thought hard enough, the blaring spotlights could almost replicate the southern summer sun. It was hard to get lost in his imagination though. The lady was prodding and poking at his face, turning him this and that side so she could fix him. This wasn’t the time.
“There. Try playing it now” Jisung said proudly, standing up straight and letting go of Hyunjin’s guitar. So he played a tempo to test it, and the music seemed perfectly fine now. In the end, it was futile anyway. The company didn’t allow them to play live in the music video. Apparently they had no faith that the boys wouldn’t mess up the instruments after such a long hiatus, and there was no time or money for retakes and reshoots. So, they would only pretend to play, and lip-sync the words and hopefully someone in the editing department would make it seem real. Still, Hyunjin was going to try his hardest to genuinely play. He hated pretending.
“Close your eyes,” The lady mumbled, an annoyed tone that frankly felt unwarranted. He followed the instructions, and felt the tip of a brush poking at his eyes as she reapplied some of the darker eyeshadow. The concept for this album was pop-rock, leaning heavily into the rock, and so their makeup was inspired from the 1980s world of rock.
“Did I do something wrong?” Hyunjin asked, as she used a little too much force on him, making his eyes water under the sharp brush.
“Hmm?” She was none the wiser, and he suddenly wondered if he should backtrack, but he wouldn’t be able to continue the filming knowing one of their makeup artists was possibly mad at him. “You…seem upset” He said. 
A sigh followed, “I’m not upset, I just think you should take better care of yourself. Jisung was right, you know? Your face does cost us thousand of won. I understand you’ve just come back from vacation but if you don’t do your job, it’s very difficult for me to do mine”
“Right” He nodded, sudden guilt overwhelming him, “Can I open my eyes now?”
With the confirmation, he did and looked at her, “I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful in the future” 
She smiled, pulling at his cheek, “It’s good to have you back, kid”
Within seconds, the set jumped back to life. Chan ran onto the stage, getting into his position, and Changbin followed. They were both visibly upset, due to the company not allowing them to sing live, but years in this industry had made them numb to some of that anger. Hyunjin took his place on the stage, as the cameras adjusted and thirty-something people gathered before them, ready to film. He wished he could sneak one look in the mirror before filming, for the reassurance that he didn’t look like a total clown, but he trusted the kind makeup lady. 
“All right, boys” Chan looked at them, microphone stand in his hands, “From the top, yeah?”
The backing track began on cue, and Hyunjin’s heart pounded like it hadn’t in ages. Maybe he wasn’t prepared to do a full-fledged music video shoot so soon after the hiatus. Did he even remember his chords right? The audience may not be looking at his hands, but he sure as hell would be. He squeezed his eyes shut, taking in a breath, hoping he didn’t mess up for the sake of their team. Millions of people would watch this. Thousands would instantly know they weren’t actually singing, and he had grown tired of the accusations. Most of those people would be rooting for his failure, and he could imagine the myriad of hate comments about how Hyunjin should never have returned to the band. Maybe it was a mistake being back in the spotlight so soon. Chan’s hand landed on his shoulder, startling him. He leaned in to whisper, loud enough for only Hyunjin to hear, “Forget everyone else, Jinnie. She’s going to love this”
A surprised smile tugged on Hyunjin’s lips just as the spotlight hit him, and the camera began rolling.
»»————-
Later that night, Jisung crawled into his bed. He pulled the blue comforter off Hyunjin’s aching legs, settling cross-legged across him. The filming had taken a toll on him, and he’d really let himself go when he was away. It usually took a lot more to get him this tired, and he was still adjusting to this new schedule. Jisung leaned against the wall, releasing a sigh of contentment. This had become second nature to them, a routine to sit, talk, and catch up on the past few months of summer. They’d stayed in touch through text, but it wasn’t the same. Some nights, they’d go for a walk, find an open barbecue place, and eat into the early hours of dawn. Other nights, they’d stay in the dorm and order some cheesecake, and Jisung would tell him everything he missed. Every anecdote, each funny moment, painstaking details of how many different ways he’d embarrassed himself. Hyunjin had missed a lot, so he’d sit and listen to the tales of the city that he’d pined for all this while. It was good to return to the life he’d left behind. Everything was different here, and sometimes it felt like summer had existed in a void away from the world. Jisung would also ask him about his hometown, but Hyunjin never knew where to start, so he preferred to listen to Jisung instead. He had a lot more to say anyway. 
Tonight was different. Jisung asked him about you.
And that wasn’t the routine.
“I don’t really know what you want me to tell you” Hyunjin laughed, and they were both tucked into blankets, like kids bonding at their first sleepover. 
“You’ve talked about this girl all freaking summer, and now you have nothing to say?”
“Well, yeah, you already know everything” Hyunjin mumbled, flush rising up. They never had this dynamic before, this…sharing of crushes, or whatever it could be called. Jisung was usually the one in relationships out of the two of them, and Hyunjin would never bug him about it. Not until Jisung told him himself. So, Hyunjin didn’t know what to say.
“Yeah, I know the shortened version you sent over text, but…how’d she react when you said you’re coming back?”
Hyunjin swallowed, memories flashing through his mind of his last night in his hometown, “She was really upset”
“Upset, like…didn’t talk to you kind of upset, or…had sex with you before you left— upset?”
The words sent a flush up Hyunjin’s neck, and he knew this was exactly what Jisung wanted. This was his intention. To embarrass him. To celebrate this new dynamic, when Hyunjin was the one with a stupid crush and not the other way around.
“We didn’t have sex” He clarified. Jisung’s eyes widened, “Really? Not even on the last night?”
Hyunjin leaned his head against the wall, playing with the threads of the blanket. The last night was complicated, for all the right and the wrong reasons, so he settled for the most matter-of-fact answer, “I didn’t have any condoms”
“Shut up, I know that’s not true. I sent you like a huge box your first week in Daejon. Don’t tell me you never used them…”
Hyunjin laughed at the memory, “Thank you for that Jisung, but…I’d already packed it away. I didn’t really expect anything to happen anyway. I thought she’d be too upset at me for leaving”
“So…that’s the only reason?”
Hyunjin swallowed, knowing that if perhaps they’d had an hour longer together that night, things would probably have led straight to that, condoms or no condoms, “Well…we were out of time”
“You spent months with this girl. How were you out of time?”
Hyunjin sighed, “There was no right moment. I didn’t want it to be rushed—”
“No rush? As if you wouldn’t bust a nut as soon as you’re—” Jisung was interrupted with a smack in the face by a pillow, voice turning high, “Ouch! What’d you do that for?”
“I’m not talking about this anymore” Hyunjin laughed, the red reaching the tips of his ears.
“That’s pretty unfair, you know. I used to tell you every detail of my relationship with Mae, down to the nitty-gritty details”
Hyunjin looked up at him. It had been a while since he’d talked about Mae so freely, and he swallowed, “How are you holding up?”
Jisung’s smile fell, humorous demeanour disappearing in seconds, “She’s happy now”
The statement meant so much more than he let on. Happy now. As in, she wasn’t happy before, when she was dating Jisung. Thinking back on it now, their breakup had been explosive, and it seemed like Jisung was still picking up the pieces. Was this what the rest of Hyunjin’s life would look like? Surrounded by miserable relationships destroyed by their careers. He can’t recall the last time he witnessed a love story with a happy ending. He sighed, “That sucks man”
Jisung shrugged, “It is what it is”
Hyunjin stretched out his legs under the blanket, letting out a soft groan, “Man, my limbs haven’t hurt like this in ages”
Jisung rolled his eyes, “You’re getting soft, big boy. We’re hitting the studio tomorrow at six. Album release is only a month away now”
His phone buzzed and he reached for it immediately. “Is that her?” Jisung asked, smiling.
“Yup” Hyunjin typed in a quick text to you, “She’s…telling me about her day”
“Is that all you guys do?” Jisung asked, a smirk on his face, scrolling up on their chats, without permission. He let out a dramatic gasp, “What are you writing her all these long-ass paragraphs for? It feels like I’m reading a book. Big red flag. At least break it up into multiple texts”
Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “I mean, there’s a lot she’s interested to know about my life here. I like telling her what we’re up to. If you see it from an outside perspective, it’s pretty cool. She really loves it”
Jisung laughed, eyebrows wiggling like a kid, “Uh-huh. Sure. That’s what she loves”
Hyunjin sighed, rolling his eyes, “Stop. We’re just…really close friends now”
“Does she know that?”
He didn’t like this conversation anymore and what it implied. He informed him for the umpteenth time, “I told her from the start that I don’t do relationships. She knows.”
Jisung was still scrolling through their chat, probably hoping to find something steamy but stopped at the media that Hyunjin had shared, letting out a gasp, “Wait a minute. Have you been sending her our studio recordings?” 
“Yes” Hyunjin frowned, “She likes those”
“You know, Eunwoo would have a heart attack if he knew you were leaking unreleased music”
Hyunjin sighed. Jisung was always so dramatic. “I’m not leaking anything. It’s only to her. She’s not going to show anyone”
“And how do you know that?”
“I trust her” Hyunjin’s reply was automatic, “More than anything”
Jisung smiled, eyes crinkling, tilting his head, “Even more than me?”
He chuckled, grabbing his phone back, “Shut up”
»»————-
He had been waking up earlier than usual, and he’d find himself at the kitchen table first thing in the morning, watching the sun rise through their apartment window. It was always fun to greet the boys as soon as they woke. He’d missed them for so long and he was trying to cherish every moment with them. Jisung would joke about how obsessed he was with them, often hovering like a parent around the house in the morning, waiting for their kids to wake up. It was strange because Hyunjin wasn’t an early riser, but his thirst to spend time with them overpowered his desire to lay in bed. He sat at the kitchen island scribbling ideas in a little journal Changbin bought him. It had admittedly become his diary, filled with crazy ideas, midnight thoughts, and sketches for paintings. 
The dance practices had got easier in the past weeks, and his limbs felt lighter. It almost took no time for him to get back to normal, sucked into the whirlpool of obligations that his life offered. There were so many interviews, press junkets, editorials, and he was back in the studio every night. He’d missed that grandly — getting to work on the music and, for the first time, writing his songs into the album. All of that made everything else worth it — like when they couldn’t leave their dorm because it was surrounded by paparazzi. They’d crowded around the building, hoping to get a glimpse at or any comments out of Jisung. Unfortunately, Jisung was still in the middle of a huge legal battle with the media that had leaked every detail of his personal life and relationship. Hyunjin didn’t understand how Jisung managed to still be so sane, after something like that rocked his world.
But slowly, he carved time in his life to start painting again, between schedules of course. An art shop in Hongdae was perfect for his needs. It was small and convenient, and he could be away from the public eye when he was in it. He found time for you. In changing rooms, backstage, in five-minute breathers between practice, he’d text you when he could. 
“You’re up early” Chan smiled, and Hyunjin looked up at him. He was already dressed, and he moved towards the light switch, turning them on, “You’re drawing in the dark?”
“It’s peaceful” Hyunjin hummed, “On set…it’s always too bright”
“Ah. Right. What are you sketching this time?” Chan moved over to him, glimpsing into his diary. 
“Just…a rough map of home. I’m writing down all the places, I wanna remember it. I don’t know when I’ll go back”
Chan smiled thoughtfully, “Is that your plan for the day?”
“No, actually, I was just about to head out to buy some flowers. I really want to draw some white hydrangeas, they won’t be in bloom for longer, and I’m hoping I can capture their whole life cycle”
Chan laughed, “Wow. It’s only six am and you’re already talking romance”
Hyunjin flushed, “It’s just for my drawings. I want to get better at observation. Speaking of, can I come watch you in the gym later? I…think I’ll draw you next”
Chan moved around the island, prepping a morning smoothie, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re flirting with me, Jinnie”
“Of course not” Hyunjin rolled his eyes, continuing to add details to his little map, right now he was adding the 7/11 between your house and Aera’s. 
“Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s going to be possible Jinnie. And…you’re probably gonna have to get the flowers tomorrow” Chan suddenly said, filling up the blender with ingredients.
Hyunjin frowned, “What do you mean?” But of course, Chan turned the blender on right then, so Hyunijn had to wait until he was done to find out. The loud whizzing sound filled the kitchen, and if the other boys weren’t up yet, they certainly would be now.
“Sorry about that” Chan apologised sheepishly, pouring the smoothie into four cups, and then eyed Hyunjin’s pajamas, “You should change into a coat, something warm. It’s chilly out”
Hyunjin tilt his head, suspicious, “Why?”
Chan slid him the smoothie, which Hyunjin hadn’t even asked for, and then grinned, “I’m kidnapping you”
“What?” He laughed, reaching for the cup anyway. He might as well start drinking healthy.
“There’s someone I’d like you to meet, Jinnie. She’s a prodigy, she owns like a gazillion art galleries across the country, and she wants to meet you”
“Since when are you interested in art?” Hyunjin hummed, trying not to gag at the taste of the drink. It was all protein powder and whey. Chan smiled at the sight, leaning forward on the counter, “Since my best friend started drawing masterpieces, of course. Go get changed. I’ll drive us there, and if we have time before going to set, we just might be able to buy your flowers”
»»————-
The paintings in the art gallery were beautiful, and Chan was a good sport, taking just enough interest in the art that Hyunjin felt important in explaining all the techniques. They’d wandered around for a while now, eyeing every exhibition. Enough time had passed as they stood observing the room of sculptures, and Chan nudged him. He was diverting his attention to a woman with a tablet in hand as she walked around the space. The apparent prodigy. She seemed busy, pushing buttons on the tablet as she inventoried the place, a flurry of rich visitors following her around. Hyunjin had seen her before, and he asked, “Does she work in our building by any chance?”
“She certainly does. Hey, Karina!” He suddenly called out, “This is Hyunjin”
Hyunjin went wide-eyed and awkward, certainly unprepared to meet someone so important out of the blue, but Karina seemed sweet enough. Her gaze caught his, widening when she noticed them. She whispered something to her über important guests, and then walked over to them, all prim and poise. She certainly looked the part of an art gallery owner, although Hyunjin had never seen one so young before. She shot him a smile, “Ah. I’ve heard so much about you, Hyunjin”
“Oh no” Hyunjin had a funny feeling in his stomach, “What did Chan say?”
She laughed, “Nothing too bad. He showed me some of your work”
“He what?” Hyunjin cringed, “I’m sorry about that”
She laughed again, “Don’t apologise. Your work’s pretty good. Even before Chan, you were kind of hard to miss actually. Your face is plastered all across the company building”
Hyunjin cringed yet again, clasping his hands together, “I’m…sorry about that. That’s embarrassing”
She laughed, “Not at all. So…do you like the collection?”
Hyunjin looked around, nodding, “Oh. Of course! It’s beautiful. I love the exhibit, and I can’t believe you have some Monet up too. That must have been hard to get”
She tilt her head, an admiring smile on her face, “It certainly was. The job’s not easy, but I enjoy it a lot. We try to stick to contemporary work, switching up exhibits every month or so. You’re lucky you caught us during Monet. We’re having those shipped back to Paris soon”
Hyunjin nodded, hands slipping into his pockets, “Paris. Wow…”
“Actually I don’t have too much time, so I’m going to cut to the chase” She smiled, “The reason I asked Chan if I could meet you was…if you’d ever be interested, I wouldn’t be opposed to hosting an exhibition for your work”
His eyes widened, a surprised chuckle escaping him, “What? I’m literally just starting out. Experimenting…I don’t even have a specific art style yet or much original work…”
Karina shook her head as if all of that was an afterthought, “We already know it’ll be a hit. You’re very loved, especially in Seoul”
He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Why would an actual, real-life gallery ever want to exhibit his work? He barely had work to begin with! All he’d done was post a few artworks on his Instagram, and mentioned that he liked drawing in an interview, “But I’m not a professional, by any means, I just…do it because I enjoy it”
She smiled, “Precisely. It’d be nice to give new artists a voice. Sooner or later, some art gallery is going to snatch you up. I’d prefer if we were the first. There’s a lot of interest in you by the public. It’d be a loss to not display your work. If there’s anything I learnt from Kim Jieong it was—”
“Wait, you know Kim Jieong?” Hyunjin forgot his manners, interrupting her, especially in such an excitement, but he couldn’t help himself.
Karina laughed, eyes narrowing, “Are you a fan?”
“No, but my girlfr-“ Hyunjin stopped in his sentence, clearing his throat, and he could feel Chan’s gaze burn curiously into him, “Um…one of my friends is. He’s her favourite artist in the world”
“Well…I wouldn’t give him so much credit” Karina spoke, clutching the tablet tightly, “But yes, I used to intern with him earlier”
He was too straightforward, but he didn’t care, “Do you think you could help me get in touch with him? I’m sorry, I realise that’s a big favour and—”
Her expression changed, “I don’t know, Hyunjin. My relationship with Jieong…is complicated. But, if you’d really like maybe I could help you set up a meeting or something”
“Really?” His eyes lit up, and the conversation had completely sidetracked but it didn’t matter, “That would mean everything to me. Thank you”
“Of course. I can’t promise anything. This may be TMI, but he and I aren’t on the best terms. He is a wonderful artist though. I’ll give him that”
“Thank you, Karina” He smiled, genuinely. A security guard came up, tapping her on the shoulder. She nodded at him, and then looked back at Hyunjin, “I'm sorry I have to get going, there's been an incident involving a spill in the impressionist gallery …but the offer’s always up for the exhibition, by the way. Eunwoo could give you my contact details. I think you’d made a great addition to my portfolio, Hyunjin”
He smiled, but all he could focus on was that she knew Kim Jieong. Hope festered in his heart that maybe now he could finally get you the chance you deserved.
»»————-
The Hydrangeas bloomed beautifully on Hyunjin’s desk. He’d been drawing them all afternoon, and he looked forward to seeing their state change as he came home each night from work. It felt silly, but summer flowers reminded him of you. The vase needed fresh water, and he stopped sketching to go up to the kitchen and fill it up. The boys were gathered around the dining table, just about to head out to the studio, and Chan was preparing cocktails. Hyunijn switched on the water tap, absentmindedly watching the vase fill up, listening to their conversations. 
Karina still hadn’t got back to him, but he was holding onto hope. It had only been a week since their conversation after all. His days since then had been busy so he couldn't worry too much about it, occupied by schedules, he’d also managed to squeeze in time for himself now. It seemed like going back to his hometown had been genuinely helpful. It had fulfilled its purpose. He’d come back to work, feeling a new kick in energy and joie de vivre. There was hardly any sadness like before, and that's all Hyunjin could have asked for from his little vacation anyway.
Since his return, there had been some changes to the company too. He’d discovered a new library, hidden in their building, somewhere on the fourth floor, and he’d been frequenting it during his breaks. Every morning, he picked a new book to read and would fixate on it for the next week and a half. Barely any employees ever came to the library, other than HR sometimes, and it was a nice escape. He could imagine that you’d really love the library, full of nooks and crannies begging to be found and thousands of books aching to be read.
He discovered he had an affinity for poetry, and some poems never left his mind. There was one in particular by Kim Yong-Taek that occupied all the space in his head. 
눈 내리기 전에 / Before the snow falls,  한번 보고 싶습니다 / I would love to see you.
They felt real, as if they’d been written only for him, and shivers often ran up his skin as he stood reading them quietly, a deep ache in his heart at the familiarity of the words. It was crazy that something written hundreds of years ago could capture exactly what Hyunjin was feeling right now. He hoped he could make music that felt the same to others. The longing in his bones only got worse each day, and he was making a plan to fix it. Summer had been beautiful, even contending for his favourite season, but it was ending, and he would do anything to make autumn just as beautiful.
»»————-
Sleep clouded his vision, the song's melody blending with his drowsiness. It had been a week of rerecordings and they’d barely got any rest. Hyunjin tugged the headphones off, glancing at Chan through the observation window, “Was that a good take?”
Chan gave him a thumbs up through the window. His energy had been deflated too, but Hyunjin was hoping for a better response, “Are you sure? I can do another take. I think…it doesn’t sound as emotional as Jisung’s verse”
Hyunjin could only just about see Chan’s eyes, squinted over the mask he wore. The decision to cover his face was obvious; there was a little camera propped up in the studio, a way to film behind-the-scenes content for when the album finally released. Chan obviously didn’t want to be captured in this sleep-deprived state. Still, Hyunjin would have loved to see his expression, the microscopic changes in his face would tell him if he really loved the recording or not.
Chan nodded, weary eyes, “If you think you can do a better take, go for it, Hyunjin”
So he did, inhaling a breathful of air so he wouldn’t falter during his lines. He’d sounded too emotionless and mechanical and they were recording a love song. He had to pour his feelings into it, so he closed his eyes. The lyrics were embedded into his brain anyway. 
Chan began the backing track, and Hyunjin let his thoughts drift... They wandered into a familiar memory, one he usually saved for bedtime and when he was alone. His mind kept coming back to it. It was so fresh, but each day it was fading away, slipping out of his grasp and he felt the need to bottle up the memory and store it in a safe forever, where it would always be remembered. The twinkling fairy lights of the Château, the blue paint puddle on the floor, the paint you spilled on his shirt, the heated and frenzied first, second…and third kisses. The moment had been so short-lived. He had been so vulnerable that night. You’d seen him that night, truly seen him, and he still felt surprised at how much he’d divulged in you so easily. It was the realest he’d ever felt, like the rest of his life before and after was just a charade for his friends, for the cameras, for himself.
Maybe it was only with you that he was the real Hyunjin. The teasing and laughs over the chocolate strawberries and paint easels had been second nature and strangely familiar, like it wasn’t your first time doing this together, as if you had both been falling into patterns and habits of centuries ago. The most innocent actions felt crude, and cruel. Crude to kiss your cheek but not take it further. Cruel to give in to a desire he could never fulfil. Maybe every other moment in his life had been fabricated except for that night, that would explain why he was the happiest then. 
“Shit…what was that?” A voice interrupted him. Hyunjin snapped open his eyes to see Chan staring at him in disbelief. The backing track had gone onto the next verse now. He cleared his throat, “Um. Sorry I….spaced out. Let me record that again”
“Are you kidding me? That’s the best take you’ve ever given us” Chan laughed, in disbelief, stepping into the recording booth, “You sold that to me completely, Fuck. You almost made me tear up. You should do more ballads, Jinnie. That was amazing”
Hyunjin blinked at him, holding onto his headphones tightly, so unaware of himself, “I…I didn’t realise it was that good”
“Come on. Listen to it” Chan grabbed his arm, leading him out, and replaying what had just been recorded. Hyunjin almost didn’t recognise himself singing. He’d never sang like this before. Goosebumps rippled up his arms and neck, and he looked at Chan, “You’re right. That one turned out…really good”
“Damn. You can convince the audience that you’ve lived a thousand lives, been through a hundred heartbreaks. You convinced me. That was so real”
Hyunjin’s lips tugged into a smile, and he pushed his hands in his sweatshirt pockets, “It felt real to me too”
Chan wrapped up the recording, and then happily turned the company camera off, “Do you know what this means, Jinnie?”
“What?” Hyunjin asked, grateful they weren’t being recorded anymore. 
Chan stepped closer to him, a growing smile on his face, “We fucking finished this album, baby”
»»————-
Hyunjin was changing the water in the vase. He’d been desperately trying to keep the Hydrangeas alive, but that had been a failing task. So he’d found some time to buy some Cosmos, hoping he could draw them instead. It was almost autumn now, and the flower in bloom had changed, so he kept trying to adjust to it. It was harder than he thought. Chan's voice distracted him, “Are you coming to dinner with us? We’re thinking of trying that new Italian place”. Hyunjin looked up at him, “Shit. Is it okay if I bail? I was going to call Y/N later tonight. She wanted to paint together”
His eyebrows shot up, a small smile on his face, “Paint together? Is that a euphemism?”
Hyunjin rolled his eyes, switching the water tap off, “No. It's obviously not”
“Wouldn’t you love if it was?” Jisung smirked at him, walking into the kitchen. It seemed like all their serious, and unserious conversations often took place in this kitchen, their one common space. Chan laughed, “So how long will your paint date last? Should we bring you any takeout pizza?”
Hyunjin shrugged, glancing at the clock, “No, that’s okay, I’m not hungry. It’ll last a few hours maybe. Next week we’re going to be so busy with the press tour, I was hoping to finish a whole painting tonight. It’s easier if I’m doing it with her. I’m just more motivated then”
“There’s a word for that, you know?” Chan leaned forward on the counter, a teasing smile on his face, “She’s your proper muse”
Hyunjin laughed, not expecting him to say that, but he had been thinking about it. After all, that’s what had made the recordings so much easier. He was singing with you in mind. He denied it, “That’s really cheesy, even for you, Chan…”
“Eh, but it’s true. You should tell her that tonight”
Hyunjin smiled, already imagining your reaction to such a thing. He wouldn’t even know how he’d bring it up. Wouldn’t it be too much? Would you be embarrassed? He could recall all the times he’d catch you off guard with his compliments back in Daejon, your expression as if he’d said the most insane thing ever when Hyunjin was just appreciating you. Fuck. He really needed to see that reaction in person again. 
Every perfect summer memory only added to the weight of his longing in fall, and he decided it was time, “I’m gonna invite her to come to Seoul”
Changbin stood across the hall, having just come out of his room to catch the last bit of conversation. His eyebrows shot up, “You are…?”
Hyunjin swallowed, catching the boys' reactions as he revealed the plan, “I just bought the train tickets for her this morning, and while she's here she can stay in an apartment I rented out for her. It’s a few blocks away from ours, so she’s close enough to me, without it being suspicious”
Jisung frowned, “But if you rented it, your name would go down in the record”
“No, I already thought of that. I asked to use my aunt’s credit card, and she’s not a Hwang, so there won’t be any trace back to me”
Jisung leaned back in his chair, “You really thought of everything, huh? No loopholes?”
“No loopholes” Hyunjin nodded, hoping they’d approve of it because something like this would put them all under scrutiny and risk, “Well, as long as she says yes”
“Why wouldn’t she?” Changbin frowned, crossing his arms, “If I was her, I’d jump at the chance”
“Yeah, I know you would. There’s an apprenticeship she wanted in the city…but she didn’t get it yet. She may not want to come here anymore…in case it reminds her of that”
“Is there any chance she can still get it?”
Hyunjin shrugged, placing his palms on the counter as he thought over it, “I don’t know how it works. I’m trying to figure it out”
Chan sighed, seeing his dilemma, “Hey, if it’s in the stars…she’ll get it. She seems talented enough from what you tell me about her”
“She’s hellbent on believing she can’t get it. I’m going to try to convince her to apply again. It’s kind of frustrating. Without connections, it’s so hard to make anything out of it. I mean, when we were at the gallery, you introduced me to Karina. It was so easy. She saw my work, and immediately agreed to a fucking exhibition. Sometimes it feels kind of unfair. What did I do to deserve that? I know there are hundreds of artists better than me who should be getting exhibitions, but…I’m getting it just because I’m famous. It feels weird and privileged”
Chan sighed, “Hyun…I know what you mean, but…it’s unfortunately how things are. And it’s not like you’re misusing this. The fact that you recognise it in the first place is sometimes all we can do”
Hyunjin let out an exhale, staring off into the distance, when his phone pinged. It was a text from you.
hey! im all set up here. ready when you are :)
Chan grinned, handing him a cocktail he’d just made, “Go on then. We’ll head to dinner and we’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
Hyunjin smiled, rushing back to his room. In anticipation of this call, he’d already set up his work area. Ever since he’d been back, he hadn’t gotten too much time talking to you, so he would make the most of it. He set his glass down next to his MacBook, and laid out his canvas. Through the computer screen, he could see a glimpse of your room, which was messier than his. It had more personality, and it was more lived in. He realised he’d never had a chance to come to your place. He had a sudden urge to see how you set up your room and things, your little knick-knacks, the big teddy he won for you, your artwork curated over years. But from hundreds of miles of away, he could only see a little square of your life. You were biting down on a chip when he spoke, “I think you’re going to love the song I’m working on with Chan”
Your face changed, lighting up, “Yeah?” 
The connection wasn’t great, so all your responses were delayed, but Hyunjin hummed, proud, “It’s…a sexy, contemporary kind of R&B. I can imagine you liking it”
“When can I hear it?” 
He laughed at your eagerness, “We’re still writing it”
You nodded, going back to painting. He would surprise you soon with the ticket he bought you to Seoul, but he wanted to build up to it. Perhaps he could do a grand gesture, or leave you little hints to keep you wondering. He could only imagine how happy you’d be. He could show you his favourite places in the city, introduce you to the boys and you could finally see his life, in all it’s glory. It only felt fair after you’d let him into yours so warmly. He had fit into your life in town so easily, a puzzle piece falling into place, and he hoped he could make it the same for you. Obviously, there’d be less freedom, more restrictions but at least you wouldn’t be a stranger to his lifestyle anymore. Hyunjin took a moment to sip his drink, staring at his own work. getting the courage to say it, “Can I say something cheesy?”
“Yeah?”
He leaned over the webcam, so he could be infinitesimally closer to you, cheeks reddening, “When I get stuck in the middle of the writing process, I think of you, and it really helps”
He watched as you sat on your knees, curious, “What do you think about?”
He flushed, regretting how this made him sound so romantic when he wasn't trying to be, “You know…just our time together. Chan teases me about it. He says you’re my muse or whatever”
He saw your eyes widen, and a deep emotion overwhelmed you. He didn’t see you react more, and he wondered what this meant to you, what he meant to you right now, even so far away. You didn't say anything back. You must be holding it all in, just like him. Maybe you didn’t know how to put your thoughts into words. He couldn't blame you. Even after reading all the poems in the world, Hyunjin didn’t have the words either. Not enough anyway.
»»————-
It was supposed to be an informal gathering to celebrate the album, but it felt more like a full-fledged party. Their manager’s apartment had been completely transformed, no empty floor space as everybody from the company had gathered around for a hurrah. Hyunjin had a few drinks in his system already, enough to get him really going. He stood away from the crowd, tucked into a corner, phone pulled out, typing in a ridiculously cheesy message to you. The party was great, and he was so happy to have finished the album. All that was missing was you. The text started sounding far too cheesy, inspired by the love rot that the poetry books had filled in his brain, and slowly, it became more and more unhinged. The wine Chan brought must have got to his head, but he couldn't stop, all of his thoughts pouring out in a mixture of sentences that didn't really make any sense.
I want you here with me at this party. Fuck, it’s so dull without you. If you were here, we could just sneak off and…I would kiss you. Positively. My manager is here, the scary one, but he doesn’t have to know. Earlier, I was reading a book and there was an English word in it that reminded me of you. Saudade. I looked it up because I was so curious and it said it’s a state of melancholy for a beloved someone or something. I think that explains this ridiculous feeling I have when I think of you. I have it even when I’m not thinking of you. Like last week, when we were recording this one song. It’s like you’re here with me in everything. I guess what I’m saying is, I just want to kiss you really really badly and fuck I’m really drunk so I’m sorry for how this may sound but I just really need to feel you—
The phone was snatched from his hands, Changbin squinting to read the message, “Who are you texting in the middle of our party?”
Hyunjin flushed red. He was really drunk but he still noticed their manager to the side, and hushed, “Keep your voice down, Binnie”
He looked up, eyes wide, “Is this your idea of a sext?”
“What? no— it’s not a sext. I’m not sexting, what the hell”
“You’re like…weirdly poetic when you’re drunk”
Hyunjin closed his eyes, “Just…give me that”
He deleted the message. 
It was a bad idea to be sending you drunk messages anyway. He should just call you instead. Yeah. That sounded like a smarter, much better idea. Before he could dial your number, Changbin pulled him to the living room, and Hyunjin let himself be tugged along. Jisung was standing shirtless there, liquid smeared down his chest and abs. He was laughing, hair all messed up, clearly very tipsy, “Come on! Who’s next?”
Hyunjin did not intend to be a part of whatever this was, but Changbin pushed him ahead, “He’s up” But they were surrounded by company employees. Even the girl from the art gallery, Karina, was here and he flushed from the embarrassment. “I don’t even know what we’re doing” Hyunjin chuckled nervously, as Changbin hoisted him up over the table, handing him a quick shot to get the nerves out. Hyunjin downed it in a single sip, the liquid burning his throat. The state of his sobriety stopped him from protesting too much, until Jisung explained, “Body shots, of course. Pick your contender, Jinnie”
Hyunjin’s eyes widened, looking around the bunch of people, none of whom he felt comfortable touching him, but he saw a few of the women shy away, “I…I don’t know”
“I’ll do it” Chan laughed, stepping ahead from the crowd, “If that’s okay with you”
Jisung certainly seemed to have enjoyed it, and he wanted to give it a shot. He could be chill with this, but he would definitely blame the alcohol in him for how easily he went down on the table, and how easily he let Chan unbutton his black shirt. The overhead lights were too bright and Hyunjin closed his eyes, and his head was spinning. The music was pounding in his ears, the marble countertop cold to his back.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this” He laughed to himself, swept up in the environment as Changbin dripped tequila over his stomach. The chill liquid tickled him and he immediately squirmed, sending a shiver down his spine. He felt embarrassed for his reaction. Clearly, he was a novice to this party celebration, but he was also enjoying the attention.
“You ready, Jinnie?” Chan asked, looking up at him with a comforting smile. Chan was definitely drunk too in order to pull a stunt like this in front of the employees. They were absolutely loving it though and he could hear them all cheer them on. They never got to see the members in a more unprofessional environment than this one, and Hyunjin hoped none of them changed their opinion of him after this. He gave a quick thumbs up, facing the ceiling as he felt Chan’s mouth near his stomach. He sucked in a breath in anticipation, cheeks flushing from all this attention. He was used to people’s eyes on him, but this was so different and intimate. Somehow, his self-conscious part disappeared just as Chan licked a stripe of tequila up Hyunjin’s torso. He squirmed, a giggle escaping at the ticklish feeling, and Chan held him down, hand on his thigh, laughing, “Stop moving! You’ll get it on the table!”
Hyunjin stilled with the threat of ruining their manager’s table, eyes still closed as Chan finished licking the rest up until his chest, and his stomach was in knots. He couldn’t help but imagine this situation differently. Would you have partaken in this with him? How would that have looked like? If it was you doing this to him, instead of Chan? The little party activity would definitely have turned into something else by the end of it…and he knows he definitely would not be able to resist, not when your tongue was on his stomach and you were so close to him. The image sent a rush of blood through his body, thoughts that he should definitely not be indulging in when his best friend was doing body shots off him, and Hyunjin immediately sat up, bumping his head right into Chan’s. “Ouch!” Chan exclaimed, clutching his forehead, “Careful, Jin!”
“Um, sorry” He swallowed, jumping off the counter, embarrassment lingering from how he'd stupidly turned himself on in front of everyone he knew, “I felt sick”
“No worries” Chan laughed, oblivious to his friend's thoughts, patting his shoulder as everybody around them continued cheering them on, “You did good”
Hyunjin walked away, feeling sticky now, and he tried to wipe off the remaining with a kitchen towel. If it was you, he would have let you go all the way, until every stripe of tequila was gone from his body. And then some more.
He buttoned his shirt up again, hands shaking from the buzz, blood rushing to the parts that needed his attention. He needed to hear your voice. You didn’t even know he was at this party. It was so inconvenient to be so far away, trying to convey all that he felt through a mere text or phone call. He stood to the side, shaky fingers pulling up your contact until he heard your voice on the other end. “Guess what?” Hyunjin grinned.
“What?” Your voice was soft on the other end, so calm, grounding him in his drunkenness. A stark contrast to the lively atmosphere of his party and he could think straight again. Hyunjin smiled, “We finished the album. Like, for real. Every track is actually ready. We’re at my manager’s apartment, all of us, and the whole crew. It feels so fucking good”
He felt excited to hear your reaction. He was grinning ear to ear, as you congratulated him. He’d heard that today many times, but hearing it from you was incomparable. You were proud of him. He giggled, stumbling out of the hallway, blood rushing to his head, “Jisung made me drink…far too much. I liked the wine, though; Chan found it in this cool store, but then me and Binnie…we did body shots, and guess what? Chan fucking did body shots too! It was so insane. He also invited the girl from the art gallery, which is so funny. Apparently, she has connections in our industry too. She’s the daughter of —” 
“Wait, you did body shots?” You interrupted him.
Hyunjin nodded, walking around, trying to avoid anybody being able to pick up on his conversation. So many people were in this tiny apartment, and he wished he had more peace and quiet to talk to you. “It was insane. Just like Seungmin told us”
“I…can’t hear you, Hyun” You spoke.
“Sorry” He apologised, walking off towards the balcony, “Can you hear me now?”
“Yeah, I can”
“Fuck. I miss you so fucking much” He mumbled, voice dropping, and the rest of this party was fading from his vision, tunnel vision to you and your voice on the other end, “Why aren’t you here?”
Hyunjin thinks the only way he can stop missing you is if you start visiting him in your dreams. He wonders what sorcery he needs to do for that to happen. Could he visit you in your dreams? So you never grow apart, and find each other every single night. “I miss you too….but you should get back to the party—”
Hyunjin failed to notice Changbin creeping up on him, taking the phone away, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Is that Y/N?”
“Give me the phone back, Changbin!” Hyunjin sighed, all his poetic declarations disappearing into the void. At this point, he thinks he needs to maintain another diary just to write all the things he wishes to say to you but never does.
“Hey!” Changbin was talking to you, “You must be the girl who stole him away from us for months and months. I have every reason to hate you”
“Stop!” Hyunjin exclaimed, realising their managers stood nearby and the commotion had caught their ears, “Don’t announce it to the entire party.” Changbin laughed, “So tell me, on a scale of 1 to 10—”
“Changbin, give me my phone back!” Hyunjin tried to grab it.
“Let me finish!” Changbin laughed. Hyunjin’s head began to ache when he saw Jisung approach their chaos, “Fuck. Is that her?”
“Jisung, can you please ask him to give me my phone back?” He sounded like a broken record, like all his primary functions had ceased and wouldn’t function until he heard your voice again. “Is that Hyunjin’s girlfriend?” Jisung asked, loudly. It was loud enough that their managers heard it, ears perking up and glancing at Hyunjin. One of their managers, Eunwoo raised an eyebrow, tilting his head. This was the first he’d heard of this, and goosebumps rippled up Hyunjin’s neck at what this could mean.
His voice dropped, stepping back towards his meddling friends, “Stop, Jisung. She’s just my friend. How many times do I have to say that, and don’t announce it to the party!”
“Then I can have her?” Changbin interrupted, oblivious to his surroundings. Hyunjin yanked the phone back, and he was pissed, but he wouldn’t blame them. They were only messing about. He let out a breath, “Hey, I’m so sorry. They…took you hostage”
Your voice sounded far away, resigned, “That’s okay. Don’t worry about it. You should enjoy the party, Hyun” Panic built up in his throat at the thought of you leaving, “No, no, I called you because I missed you”
“I can’t really even hear you,” You said, crushing his heart and soul to irreparable pieces. Maybe he was being dramatic, but perhaps he needed you to breathe, “We can just talk tomorrow. Please just have a good time tonight, okay?”
Hyunjin was ready to protest, bear his heart out to keep you a little while longer. What was the point of celebrating his success if he couldn't share it with you right now? Isn't that why he'd pushed himself so hard this time? So he could impress you with all the songs he'd written with only you in mind. He’d leave the party if he had to, just so you wouldn’t go. Before he could declare his insanity of wanting to talk to you, Eunwoo stepped closer to him. His eyes were narrowed, a tell-tale sign, disapproving head tilt. Hyunjin had lost the opportunity, and he said, “All right. I’ll call you later”
With no qualms about destroying the party's vibe, Eunwoo asked curiously, “Who are you talking to?”
“Nobody” Hyunjin panicked, hanging up. He shoved the phone into his pocket, and it burned into him. Eunwoo sighed, “I heard Jisung mention a girlfriend. Is there something you want to share?”
He shook his head, unease settling into him or maybe he was just about to throw the fuck up, “Can we…not talk about this right now? I mean, we’re at a party”
Eunwoo stared at him, as if dissecting all of Hyunjin's deepest, darkest secrets, gaze burning through him. Then he nodded with a smile, “Of course, Hyunjin. You should celebrate”
Hyunjin’s nerves calmed down and he began walking away. Maybe now he could return to enjoying the rest of the night.  But of course, Eunwoo stopped him, hand over his shoulder “We’ll talk about it first thing in the morning though. I want to see you seven AM, in my office”
Hyunjin suppressed a groan, bile rising up his throat at what this could possibly mean, “Oh. Okay”
Eunwoo patted his shoulder, before walking back to the party, “Don’t be late, Hwang”
»»————-
He definitely didn’t feel human stepping into the office, a mere three hours later. He hadn’t got any sleep. He had just enough time to head home, shower, and wipe the remnants of tequila off his stomach before heading here. The body shots didn’t sound like a great idea now. His shirt was sticky and ruined. His head hurt, and he was surprised that Eunwoo wasn’t hungover. He’d probably gouged on hangover soup last night, and he sat in a crisp suit-and-tie across the table. He looked up at him, cheery smile, “Morning, Hwang”
Hyunjin sat in the uncomfortable office chair, squinting against the lights that hurt his sensitive eyes, “Good morning…”
“Did you have a good time at the party last night?”
Hyunjin nodded, putting on a smile, “Yes. It was nice”
Eunwoo was their nicest manager, he’s the only reason Hyunjin had been able to go back home and he certainly liked him the most. He was miles better than Kim Soohyun, the guy who basically decided Hyunjin’s life. But now…it seemed like Eunwoo had been sent by his higher-ups to sweet-talk Hyunjin, “You certainly seemed to enjoy it, but sadly, I didn’t see too much of you. We would have liked to get a drink with you”
“Ah, I was with the boys most of the night” He answered. Could this meeting not have been an email? His head was pounding and he couldn’t focus on anything.
Eunwoo tilt his head, picking up on his irritation, “Say it. Whatever’s on your mind”
“No disrespect. I…just don’t understand why we need to talk about this right now”
“Why? Because it’s a Sunday and most people don’t have to go to work today, or because you drank too much last night?” He laughed, leaning back in his chair. There was a stress ball in his hands and Eunwoo kept tossing it back and forth. 
Hyunjin bit his lip, “No, I’m fine. I’m just a bit tired”
“Because it may be a day off for everyone in the country, but not for you. I’m sure you’re aware of that. After all, superstars don’t get to where they are by slacking off”
Hyunjin frowned, “I understand. Is there a specific reason you wanted to see me today?”
Eunwoo put down the stress ball in his hands, expression suddenly turning serious, “Look, kid. If I could turn a blind eye to this, I would. Trust me. I hate doing this as much as you hate hearing it, but Kim Soohyun was at the party too. He overheard things. I’m accountable to him, and you’re accountable to me”
Hyunjin sank into his seat, “So…am I in trouble or something?”
Eunwoo clasped his hands, “Depends…did you do something to get you into trouble?”
“No, I didn’t, Eunwoo”
He leaned forward on the desk, hands folded under his chin, “There was quite a lot of talk about a girlfriend last night. You never mentioned that to me”
Hyunjin let out a sigh, “There’s no girlfriend. The boys were dicking around”
Eunwoo gave him a tight-lipped smile, “Then, who were you talking to? On the phone when I saw you? Surely your parents wouldn't be awake that late”
“Just…a friend from back home. They’re not important”
“Look, Hyunjin. I hate to pry. Your personal life is entirely yours but not when it concerns your image or the company, or god forbid, the media. If you are dating somebody, you have to let me know so I can be prepared for when it eventually gets out to the media”
Hyunjin’s head began to hurt exponentially more and maybe he should never have called you last night, “I’m not dating anybody, Eunwoo”
Eunwoo nodded. Clearly, he didn’t believe him. He’d known and managed Hyunjin for years. He'd known him since he was fifteen. He could see right through him and wished he was a better liar. “You’re gonna have to give me more than that”
Hyunjin sighed, sitting up straighter as if that could convince him better, “She’s just an old friend, from back home”
Eunwoo raised an eyebrow, and then leaned back in his chair, “Okay, I’ll believe you. I hope you’ve already passed along the contract to her”
He frowned, “What, the NDA? I’m not dating her, why does she have to sign it?”
“Well yes, you’re not, but clearly you and her are close if you’re drunk calling her from a work party. She could have the wrong idea, if she goes around telling people a different story…that’ll be a problem”
“She is not going to tell anyone”
“You don’t know what girls can be capable of to get fame. An argument with you, if someone bribes her, if she sees any opportunity, she could go to the media—”
“Y/N is not like that” Hyunjin interrupted, a surge of bitterness ripping through at the assumptions.
Eunwoo’s eyebrows shot up, “Y/N…that’s her name”
He wished he could take back that information. It was too late. He released a breath, “Look, you’re not making her sign any contracts. We’re not romantically involved. There are no legal obligations. Am I not even allowed to have fucking friends anymore?”
Eunwoo closed his eyes, “Don’t get angry on me, Hyunjin. You’re not stupid. This is how it’s been for years. The rules won’t change for you. It’s going to be difficult to manage these rumors after you already took half a year off to yourself and with Jisung’s trial and Chan and Kairi’s…whatever the hell they’re doing. You say you’re not dating this girl, I’m going to trust you on that. But if at any point that changes or the girl goes to the news, the company will have to step in. For example, she talks to somebody about her…special friendship with you. Kim Soohyun won’t think twice before suing her for defamation”
Hyunjin saw red, and he clenched his fists as to not react. Defamation? “I get it, Eunwoo”
He nodded, putting a document on the table and sliding it to him, “If anything changes, you have to let me know. I have to be ready to release a statement”
“What, a statement…for what?” Hyunjin stared at the files. An NDA and a press release statement. This was absolutely insane. Nothing had even happened, and they were preparing for the worst case scenario. No, they were waiting for it. 
“You’ve been in this industry long enough, Hwang. We must inform the public and fanbase…if you’re in a relationship. If we keep it to ourselves and it gets out anyway, the backlash would be immense. Now, don’t worry. We can always try to keep her identity secret if you’re worried about her safety and with threats and everything, but—”
Hyunjin stood up in panic, blood rushing to his head, “That’s not happening. There’s not gonna be any threats to her…or announcements”
Eunwoo looked up at him, blinking blankly, “Okay… I appreciate the sentiment but that’s not entirely in your hands. The press tour starts today. All eyes are going to be on the four of you. The whole damn country is talking about you, Hyunjin. We can’t afford a scandal. Kim Soohyun has me in a tight grip. I have faith in you that nothing happens to throw that off”
He swallowed, nails digging into his palm from his emotions, “Yeah. It won’t”
Clearly, his plans of bringing you to the city to visit him were down the fucking drain. He’d be lucky if he could even get a phone call with you anymore. 
“Also if you’re using the company phone to stay in contact with her, I suggest you change that. It shouldn’t be traced back to us”
Hyunjin nodded, and he wasn’t even dating you but the worst was already happening. This was what he’d feared the whole time. There was no point. There was a bitter taste in his mouth and he asked, “Is that going to be all?”
Eunwoo nodded, “You should take these documents with you, just in case. HR were happy to print them out for me this morning. They also told me you’ve been hanging out in the romance section a lot in the company library”
So he had absolutely no privacy anymore either. Hyunjin snatched the folder, carelessly holding the files in his hand, with no intention of ever using them. He wouldn’t let the press statement or NDA document anywhere near you. In fact, they’d be tossed in the trash as soon as he was home. He headed for the door and couldn’t get out of there fast enough. He needed to decompress. He couldn’t show up to practice this pissed and this wound up. He’d explode, and the boys didn’t deserve that. 
Eunwoo’s voice stopped him, “Oh, and congratulations, Hyunjin”
Hyunjin turned around, gripping the doorknob in blind fury. It felt like a taunt, a joke. There was nothing to congratulate him for. He couldn’t even keep his friends close without it exploding into a big deal. What did he even have to be grateful for? He looked right at Eunwoo, and his lack of sleep made him more irritable, “For…what?”
Eunwoo smiled warmly, his entire demeanour changing, “The album pre-sales are the biggest we’ve ever seen. You’re a global superstar now. You should feel very, very lucky, kid"
»»————-
“Can you stand still for me, please?” The assistant responsible for touching up Hyunjin’s face asked. He nodded, letting her put rosy tint on his cheeks, blending it with the contour. He’d been here for what easily felt like hours, and through the mirror he could see that Changbin was just about done with his makeup. 
The week leading up to the release was always the hardest. Somebody tugged at his hair and he resisted the urge to grimace. They didn’t deserve his terrible mood; they were only doing their job. The hairstylist apologised, noticing Hyunjin’s sour expression, “Sorry. Eunwoo said we need to get started on your hair right now; the other boys are already ready.” Hyunjin nodded, letting himself be manhandled by three different women as they struggled to put his hair into braids, “Have you been using the product we gave you?”
“Hmm?”
“Your hair’s thinning out, especially the bleached roots” The lady mumbled, disappointed.
“Yeah, I have” Truthfully he’d forgotten, a grave mistake for someone in his industry, but he’d been too caught up in everything else. His stomach rumbled and he hadn’t had time to grab breakfast this morning, so he looked around until he spotted one of their assistants, “Rowoon, could you please get me some honey butter chips—”
“Stay still, please” The makeup assistant repeated. Hyunjin straightened up, speaking through his teeth, “…or ramyeon?”
Rowoon looked at him through the mirror, eyebrows shooting up, “Um. Are you sure? You have a pre-recording tomorrow”
“I…haven’t eaten since last night” Hyunjin replied.
“Last time you ate it…your face got pretty swollen, and you were pretty beat up about not looking great in the music show” Rowoon said, grimly smiling.
Hyunjin nodded, gut hurting at that memory of his swollen face, “Right. Never mind. Forget it. Thank you”
“How long are we filming for today?” Jisung asked, adjusting his headset in the back. Rowoon looked between them, “Well, you guys are booked until 4 PM”
Hyunjin’s eyebrows shot up, and he glanced at his phone. 6:43 am. Fuck.
Changbin walked by, patting Hyunjin on the shoulder, slipping toffees into his palm, “That’ll fill you up before the interviews”. The candy looked less than appetising, but it was his only option, and he reached to eat some, just as the lady stopped him to apply lip tint to his mouth. Today was going to be a long fucking day.
They were almost done with his hair, braiding it at the top of his head, secured with glitter barrettes. It was an elaborate hairstyle, and he feared he’d ruin it if he moved. It was like walking on eggshells, like his slightest touch would crumble things. Well, everything already seemed to be crumbling. Hyunjin hadn’t been in the best of moods since his talk with Eunwoo, and the possibilities of how everything could go wrong loomed over him. The worst he’d feared for was already happening, things set in motion and no matter what he did, he couldn’t stop it from worsening. The company knew your name. They knew of your existence. They’d already restricted him. There’s no way in hell Hyunjin would be able to bring you to Seoul, much less meet you in this city without a hundred documents or cameras being thrown at you. Slowly, all his happiness that had been built up carefully and precisely, was turning into bitterness.
“Have you seen Chan?” Rowoon asked, in the reflection of the vanity mirror. Hyunjin shook his head. He’d been sitting on this chair for forty five minutes straight. How the hell would he know where Chan was? The hunger and frustration was getting to him, and he shook his head, calming himself down.
“May I go now?” He looked up at the hair assistant.
She nodded, “Just no quick movements. The hairspray is still settling in”
Now that he could properly look at himself, it looked good. Having longer hair always set him at the mercy of experimentation for new styles, and often crazy accessories. He smiled at them, pushing the chair back to stand, “Of course. Thank you so much for your hard work. It’s beautiful”
In other circumstances, he’d snap a picture and send you, but…he’d been on eggshells with you too. Inadvertently, the conversation with Eunwoo had created distance. Hyunjin hated that because none of this was your fault. You shouldn’t be subject to this silence from him, but he was constantly looking over his shoulder, paranoid that he’d be caught and it was getting tiring. His carelessness at the party had led to this. He wanted to fully blame himself for not having any self-control when he drunk called you. Yet, a part of him knew that even without the doomed phone call, somehow everybody would have found out anyway. It was only a matter of time. Things never stayed stable for too long in his life.
He walked into the hallway, hoping to find an empty room. There were usually a few reserved for stage props. He could have a few moments to himself, just to talk to you. That could calm him down, and he could apologise for his distance. He didn’t know how he’d begin to explain what was happening to you. To anybody else, it’d seem like he was pushing you away and he hoped you understood that it was never his intention.
A door was ajar, sliver of light leaking out into the hallway. He stopped in his tracks, familiar voices inside. He didn’t meant to eavesdrop, but they were so loud, “What do you want me to say? I’m doing absolutely everything I can! Jisung’s trial is already—”
“Don’t bring Jisung into this…” Kairi’s exasperated voice interrupted, “What’s going on with him is different. You always do this, Chris! Why are you making this your problem?”
“I’m sorry? They’re my bandmates. They’re my friends. Of course I’m going to take their burden!”
“Jisung is an adult, he’s perfectly capable of—“
“I made a promise to all of them, Kairi. I’m not jumping ship when they need me the most” Chan sounded so frustrated.
She groaned, “I’m not asking you to jump ship. But Chris you haven’t slept in three fucking days! You’re…barely eating. This is not living”
Hyunjin didn’t know that, and his blood ran cold at the information as Chan replied, “This isn’t your problem Kairi. It’s…my problem to deal with. I have to make sacrifices—”
“I had to quit my job because of you, Chris!” She trailed off, Hyunjin’s eyes widened, and he flinched at the aggressive tone. He wasn’t new to their arguments, especially over the last month, but none were like this. This felt like the culmination of something that had been building for months, even years. Kairi was always so sweet, and her volume returned to normal, “I mean…I had to quit because of us. I made sacrifices too. So yes, it is my problem”
Chan’s voice dropped, “Well, I don’t want you to make sacrifices for me”
“That’s what people do when they love each other. I’m sorry but that’s just a reality you’re going to have to accept Chris”
“Do we…have to talk about this now? The interviews start soon, and I can’t focus on them—” 
“I’m so worried about you, Channie. I don’t know how you’re going to make it through the morning”
Chan groaned, “I don’t know either, but I have to do it for the boys. I can’t…let them down”
Hyunjin’s chest ached now, a different kind of pain settling in. Why were they all making sacrifices for each other? They were only in their twenties, pushing for their dreams; this instability shouldn’t be normal.
Kairi sighed, “See, that’s exactly the problem. Why do you always take the blame for everything? Even when Hyunjin was gone, you made it your mission to do damage control for him. Not everything has to be your burden”
At the mention of his name, he really should walk away and learn to mind his own business, but he couldn’t help but overhear, feet rooted to the floor as Chan’s voice softened with a new desperation and frustration, “They mean everything to me. You know that”
“They do to me too, Chris. I know this is a horrible time”
“Hyunjin?” He heard Jisung’s voice call for him in the hallway. He needed to head back. An entire press and interview team was waiting for them, only a few rooms over and if he listened any further, he’d be in no state of mind to answer questions. But of course as he stepped away, he picked up on the last bit of conversation, “Did you know HR gave Hyunjin the papers?” Chan laughed bitterly, “They’re already prepared for the worst”
Kairi sighed, and he could hear her footsteps as she moved closer to Chan. Only dread filled his stomach as he heard the next sentence out of her mouth, “That’s their job. You have to not make it your problem this time, Chan, I’m…so worried about your health. And that’s Hyunjin’s responsibility. He knew what he was getting into when he started seeing her. It was bound to happen. It always does.”
Hyunjin didn’t stick around to hear Chan’s response.
He had heard enough.
»»————-
“Hyun, can I come see you?”
The question was expected, but Hyunjin was shocked when you said it anyway. He froze, choking at his words. A few days ago, he would have been overjoyed at this. After all, he’d already bought the tickets and made all the arrangements for you to come see him, but…things had changed. It was too risky. He didn’t have the heart to tell you about his conversation with Eunwoo. What was the point after all? Hyunjin let out an awkward fucking chuckle, “W-what?”
“Um, sorry that sounds out of nowhere. I just…I really want to meet you. I miss you, and it sounds like you’re going through a lot. Maybe it’ll help.” Your voice was far away, drenched in longing.
It wasn’t out of nowhere, it was only what Hyunjin had been planning since forever. But nothing went to his fucking plans, “I…I’m not sure, Y/N”
Your voice deflated, disappointed, “Yeah?”
His heart broke, but it had become increasingly clear that it would be the dumbest idea ever to have you come visit. If anybody saw them…if anything got out…he wasn’t prepared to deal with that, “Yeah. Fuck, I’m so sorry but I…I don’t think I can meet you. Right now, with everything that’s going on, I honestly don’t have the time and…”
“Yeah. I understand” Of course you understood, no matter how shitty Hyunjin kept behaving. For once, he wished you’d actually yell at him.
“I’m sorry” He swallowed, and he could feel the life being sucked out of him.
Your response was sweet as usual, “It’s okay. It’s bad timing”
“It’s bad timing” He repeated, and Hyunjin suddenly had a horrible feeling that maybe this was the last straw. Things had slipped out of his control. Soon, eventually, you would too.
»»————-
The seasons were changing, but flowers bloomed all year long in Seoul, and so Hyunjin had prepared early. He’d bought the Camellia seeds so he could grow winter flowers on his own, and see their life unfold before his eyes. Even if everything else seemed to be falling apart, at least he could try to be consistent and paint his feelings away. The yellow falling leaves and orange tree cover taken over the city inspired his many paintings. Usually, you’d send him pictures of every little detail from back home, especially of changing landscapes and beautiful natural sights of town, but you hadn't shared anything the past week. He wondered what autumn would look like in Daejon. Now that his conversations with you were thinning out, he had an irrational fear that he’d never find out. 
“Everything okay?”
“Sorry?” Hyunjin snapped out of it, and Changbin looked at him, concerned. “You’re in your head again. Is something bothering you?”
Hyunjin squeezed his eyes shut, and sighed, “No, I’m good”
Changbin clearly wasn’t convinced, because his expression softened, and he reached a hand out, “Hey, why don’t you go wait in the car? I’ll bring the Americano out to you”
But he was so past being taken care of or worried about. So Hyunjin shook his head. The idea of waiting in the car sounded absolutely horrible right now. He needed fresh air, and he was perfectly capable of getting his own cup of coffee.
“No, I got this. Why don’t you let me get this for us?” Hyunjin asked, pushing his hands deeper into his jacket pockets. It was getting colder by the day, and even in this temperature-controlled cafe, he was cold to the bone. Changbin grinned, shooting him a cheesy wink, “Well, I’ll never say no to being treated by you”
A smile tugged at Hyunjin’s lips. Changbin could find the brevity in each situation. Hyunjin walked up to the cashier, placing an order for their usual. “Could I have two coffees, black, please?” He asked. The cashier, a girl probably in her 20s, smiled wide at Hyunjin, “Is that all?”
He glanced at the pastry counter, and everything looked so appetising. Yet he was on a diet and couldn’t afford to do this. Everybody would be so disappointed in him, “No, that’s all”
“Sorry, but do…I know you?” She asked, punching in his order. Hyunjin’s brows shot up, and he thought he’d concealed his identity enough with the hat, but clearly the rest of his expensive outfit was a dead give-away that was he was some big shot. They had another schedule after this, so they were dressed up and he was draped head-to-toe in luxury items, “Um. I just have one of those faces, I guess”
The girl didn’t look convinced, “Right…I’ll have your coffee out in a few minutes”
He stepped aside, joining his friend to the side. Changbin had a huge grin on his face still and Hyunjin was thankful to have his positivity surround him, “That chick was totally flirting with you”
“What?” Hyunjin shook his head, pushing the receipt in his coat pocket, “She barely said two words. You think everyone’s flirting with me”
“Well, why are her and all her friends giggling and looking at you?” Changbin rolled his eyes. Hyunijn looked back, and sure enough, the cashier and her coworkers were looking at him. Maybe they shouldn’t have come in here today. It was too close to the comeback. He shook that thought from his head. He was desperate for coffee.
“Excuse me, sir? Your coffee is ready” The girl said, and Hyunjin stepped back up. She was smiling, flushing red under her uniform cap, and as she handed them the cups he noticed a piece of paper stuck to it. Changbin glanced at it, eyes widening as they stepped away, “Is that her number?”
“I don’t know” Hyunjin mumbled, unfurling the paper. This definitely was the most romantic way he’d been asked out. It was her Instagram handle, and a note was stuck to it, Hope you liked the coffee, handsome. Maybe we could get a stronger drink later tonight? 
“Wow” Hyunjin’s brows shot up, and he pushed the note into his pocket too. It’d be thrown away later, “That’s…certainly a bold move”
“Please tell me you’re going on that date”
Hyunjin shook his head, amused at how light-hearted dates and budding love could be for Changbin, “I…have plans”
“What plans? You’re a recluse”
“I was going to talk to Y/N tonight—” He trailed off, eyes landing on someone familiar in the crowd. Hyunjin’s breath hitched.
It was a while since he’d seen her. Years, at this point.
She was sat at a far table, laughing over a cup of coffee and croissants. She seemed better than she had in years. Happier than she’d ever been around Hyunjin. Right now, she was glowing. The cause of her happiness seemed to be a boy sitting across her. A guy dressed in flannel and suit pants, chunky glasses on his face. Hyunjin couldn’t look away as the boy leaned forward, kissing her cheek quickly. She smiled, and then the cashier called out, “Coffee for Yujin”
She kissed the boy before standing up. She walked towards them, and Hyunjin was still standing stupidly at the counter. She noticed him, eyes widening, coming to a stop. Almost instantly, the life drained from her face. 
A stark difference from a moment ago, when she was so happy. Hyunjin didn’t know what to do; he raised a hand; a small, non-threatening wave. Things between them had ended in peace, after all. Yujin’s face traversed many expressions before she settled on a calm look, “Hyunjin. Wow…hi. This…is such a surprise. Hello…Changbin”
Hyunjin nodded, hoping this interaction wasn’t being watched, “It’s…been a while, Yujin”
She was still beautiful, smiling to diffuse the tension, “I didn’t expect to see you around here”
Hyunjin nodded, hands squeezing his coffee cup, “Yeah. I…don’t come here too often”
She nodded, familiarity returning to her gaze, “Ah. Too easy to get recognised?”
Hyunjin nodded along, even though that wasn’t the reason. He hated how his life seemed to revolve around his fame, and not his choices, like maybe he didn’t come here because he just liked another coffee shop more. Changbin took over, noticing the awkward shift in Hyunjin, “Um, so how have you been, Yujin? You look good!”
She smiled at him, “I’m great. I’m actually doing really well… I, uh, moved out of the city, closer to the outskirts”
“Really?” Hyunjin asked. He wondered why she would make such a decision. She’d trained with him for years, until she’d suddenly dropped out of the idol industry, but back when Hyunjin knew her and dated her, they had the same ambitions. The same thirst to be recognized, to be respected, and known for their talent. That’s why they had got along so well.
“Hmm, the city got too much for me sometimes. Anyway after I met Haru, it just seemed like the right choice to make”
“Haru. Is that…your boyfriend?” Hyunjin asked, noticing the boy back at the table. 
“Well…” She giggled, lifting her hand up to show them the glittering, gorgeous ring, “Fiancé, actually”
Changbin’s eyes widened, “You’re engaged?”
She nodded, a dimple in her cheek, “Haru asked me a few months ago”
Hyunjin forced himself to smile, but there was a deep pit in his stomach, recalling the conversations they used to have back in their days as trainees. They were never that serious to talk about weddings, or marriage. They both knew it was only an attraction between them and would stay that way, but he remembered a specific conversation where Yujin had said that the only disadvantage of becoming famous was the love life they’d be giving up. He was happy for her now. She hadn’t had to give it up after all, “Congratulations, Yujin. That’s…really good”
“Never too early to settle down, am I right?” She laughed, “What about you, Jinnie? How have you been?”
“I’m…good too. So…what are you doing these days?” He redirected the conversation back, curiosity brimming at him. What did someone do once they’d left the idol life? They were free to do absolutely anything, the choices were limitless. He’d never known a life without rules. He’d been training since he was fourteen, after all. She shrugged, “I’m doing a bit of everything. I volunteered at an organisation for a while, I tested my hand at photography, modelling even, but then I realised I really don’t want to be around cameras of any kind” She laughed, “I teach now, though”
“That sounds really nice, Yujin. I’m glad you get to do something you love”
“Well, you too! You’re absolutely thriving, Hyunjin. I see you every day with all your brand deals and advertisements. Does it ever get tiring being pretty all the time?”
Hyunjin smiled, “It’s…part of my job”
“Well, you deserve it. I remember how focused you used to be. You were my motivation, you know? It should have been obvious that life wasn’t for me. I hated everything. My favourite part of the academy used to be seeing you” At those words, the boy, Haru joined her, slipping an arm around her waist, “Everything all right, baby?”
She glanced at him, “Shit, I totally forgot to get the coffee. Just ran into some old friends”
Haru laughed, “Don’t worry, I’ll get it for us, babe.” He kissed her again, with no hesitance of being seen by so many people, and went to pick up the drinks. Changbin conversed with Haru, as Yujin asked Hyunjin, “I read that you went on a break for a couple of months. That must have been…wow, relieving?”
He swallowed, “Yeah, it was really good, but…I’m back to work now”
“That must’ve been nice. I don’t know how you do it, Hyunnie. I remember when we training together, you wouldn’t leave the practice room for days. Still the same?”
Hyunjin nodded. Yujin had changed so much from when he’d last met her. Had he changed at all?
Haru smiled at him, “Thank you for taking good care of her then. She tells me about those days a lot. It must have been thrilling to keep it a secret from everyone”
Hyunjin shook his head, smiling politely at him, “It was terrifying actually” 
They laughed. Haru pulled Yujin into his side again as she said, “Well…this was unexpected, but if your schedule permits, you and the boys are always welcome to the engagement party. It’s the end of December”
Changbin sighed dramatically, “Unfortunately, we’re working the whole month”. Yujin frowned, “That’s terrible….I would suggest catching up after that but…me and Haru are going to be gone for three months”
“Oh, where are you going?” Changbin asked.
“Backpacking through Europe” She responded chirpily, “Haru’s really into art and sculptures, so we have this silly idea to visit every museum in Paris”
“That sounds really good” Hyunjin smiled, but he was drowning so deep in his thoughts he could barely focus. What a nice life. It was strange, the last time he saw her, she was in the same boat as him. Training to be an idol, like him. But their paths had diverged, and envy settled in him. He was so lucky to have his life, but he wished he could just take off like that too on vacation, no questions asked. Changbin’s phone buzzed and he apologised, ”Um sorry to stop this, but we gotta go. Eunwoo’s calling us back in to work”
Hyunjin nodded, “Oh, of course. It was great to meet you Yujin, and you too, Haru. Congratulations again, on the engagement. I hope you have a good time in Europe. I’m really happy for you”
Suddenly the expensive bracelets he was wearing felt like shackles around Hyunjin’s wrists. 
»»————-
A fire burned within him, a quiet inferno consuming his peace. He couldn’t stop thinking about Yujin and what her life was like now. She’d rebuilt it to something so special. She would never have that peace of life if she’d stayed in her company or with Hyunjin. He sat at the company table, signing albums, and it was a monotonous task so his thoughts kept drifting. 
“Jinnie. Your phone” Jisung mumbled, poking him with a pen. Hyunjin lift his head to see it buzzing across the table. You were calling. He took a breath, walking out to talk to you. You were the only thing that could make this horrible fucking day better. He hoped you weren’t still upset at him rejecting your offer to come to the city. Hopefully, you’d understand. Everything was too treacherous. Hyunjin…was too treacherous for you right now. Still, he listened to you about your day, and how you’d apparently made up with Yongbok. He smiled, lowering his voice as employees passed him in the corridor, “What did you guys do?”
As you told him everything he wished he was doing with you instead, Hyunjin faded into thought again until you said, “Um…and something else happened. When we were talking, Yongbok said something…He told me he loves me. That he has his entire life”
He wished he was more surprised.
A cynical stupid part of him was happy at this. So Yongbok finally told you. Bitterness settled into his veins, scorching him from the inside out, and Hyunjin found himself thinking that maybe with Yongbok, you could finally have the life he couldn’t give you.
When he got home that night, he realised the hydrangeas in his room had withered away completely.
»»————-
He woke to fresh flowers on his desk. Baby blue, lilac, pink and white. All shapes and colors. The scent is what woke him up. It starkly contrasted to the dying hydrangeas that he still hadn’t thrown away. He’d been meaning to draw them in that state. A cruel render of their destruction. 
The comeback was in a few days. Their album would finally be out to the public. There was so much to do today, and he lay in bed just a little longer to enjoy the temporary peace. A press conference was underway soon, and he would have to put on his best self. It was going to be live-streamed and there were no doubts that he’d be asked about the hiatus. He worried if the music would be well received, if it would surpass everyone’s expectations. Hyunjin finally crawled out of bed and read the little notes attached to the bouquets. Congratulations on your 4th successful studio album. Never forget how lucky and blessed you are~!
He walked into his kitchen, sweatpants hanging low, sleep clouding him, to see even more flowers on the island. “Who sent these?” He asked, rubbing his eyes.
Jisung looked sorrowful though, ignoring the bouquets entirely.
“What’s wrong?” Hyunjin asked, the worst scenarios playing in his head.
He swallowed, “They broke up”
His stomach was a pit at the news, “When?”
“Late last night. Chan…still hasn’t come home yet. We have no idea where he is”
“What? How do you know they broke up?”
“Kairi texted Binnie. She was worried. We can’t find him anywhere…”
“I’m going to call him" Hyunjin said, rushing to his room.
“We already tried that, Jinnie” Changbin spoke, “We’ve been trying since an hour”
“Maybe he’ll pick up my call” Hyunjin hoped, as the ringer rang in his ear. After eight rings, Chan did pick up. “Hello, Chan?” Hyunjin asked, voice soft. Jisung and Changbin moved closer, eyes wide as they observed him. Chan sounded low on the other end, “Jinnie…? Is everything okay?”
“Yes. I’m okay. Where are you, Channie? Are you all right?”
“I’m…fine. Don’t worry. I’ll be back in time for the conference”
“No, can I please come get you? Let me” Hyunjin pleaded. There was a pause, and a sigh and then Chan said, “I’m at the old dorm”
“I’ll be right there” Hyunjin hung up.
“No, we’re coming with” Jisung said, stepping ahead.
“Guys. Let me…just do this on my own. Eunwoo would kill us if none of us are here. Me and Chan will make it to the press conference, I promise”
Hyunjin couldn’t drive fast enough. For a second, he worried he would forget the way to their old house but it was embedded into him. It’s where they’d had their whole beginning, and Hyunjin got there in record time. Kairi meant everything to Chan, and he couldn’t imagine what he’d be feeling right now. Chan was always there for him, and he felt personally responsible to make sure he was all right. The old dorm building looked run-down; it had been falling apart for years, even when the boys lived there, and he chose the stairs over the rusty old elevator. On the fourth floor, there was an alcove. It was hidden behind a door that was sometimes locked, but he pushed it open. Chan was sitting inside, on the window seat, a soft smile on his face when he saw Hyunjin approach.
“Just you?” He tilt his head, seeing nobody else follow, “I thought the cavalry would show up”
Hyunjin shot him a soft smile, leaning against the door, “Just me….can I join you?”
Chan pat the empty seat next to him, and Hyunjin sat down. This is where Chan was always found, back when they still lived here. It’s where he came to think. To write their greatest hits. To ponder about life’s biggest mysteries. It was always his place, and Hyunjin could see why he loved it so much. It was hidden, like a secret room. Ignoring the cobweb in the corner, it was cosy. A faded old painting hung on the wall, rickety floorboards that probably hid treasures inside, a window that looked out onto an alley. The alley was something special in itself. It was between two apartment buildings, and a little bakery was carved into the side of the building. The few times Hyunjin sat here with Chan, he’d seen bakers arrive at three in the morning, loading powdered sugar and other ingredients in, creating storms and clouds of sugar. It was always a beautiful sight.
“What happened, Chan?” Hyunjin ended up asking, cutting to the chase. They both knew why he was here. Chan swallowed, looking wistful, “I’m fine, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m going to be okay. I just needed…a day to let the sadness out”
“You can take more than that” 
“Not really. I can’t afford to, not this week. I gotta put on my best self”
“We’ll understand if you don’t.” Hyunjin frowned, admirable of Chan’s resolve, “If you want to talk about it, I’m here” Chan glanced at him, a smile on his face, “I know you are, Jinnie. You’re actually the best, and the worst person to talk to this about”
“Why the worst?” Hyunjin frowned.
Chan laughed, “You don’t want to hear the good part first?”
“No…”
“The worst because…I know what you felt about me and Kairi… I feel responsible for how you see the world, crazy as that sounds. I know you had to hear our arguments the past few weeks, I’m sorry about that. I feel like I took away all your hope.”
Hyunjin swallowed, “It’s not your fault. I’ve had minimal hope to begin with”
Chan laughed, loudly, “God, Jinnie, that’s really fucked up, you know? It shouldn’t be this way. We should be out there, showing our girls the best time”
“You shouldn’t apologize to me for your break up, Chan,” Hyunjin emphasized.
“Wow. Breakup. That sounds insane to say” He breathed in a sigh, as it was finally settling in, “To think I was going to ask her to marry me in a few months”
Hyunjin felt emotional. He’d known and adored their relationship for the longest time, “I’m so sorry, Chan. I don’t know what to say, I wish I could…make this better”
“You don’t have to. I’m…happy you’re here. Kim Soohyun asked to see my phone last night. I don’t know why, but I deleted every conversation with Kairi. I suppose I panicked. I shouldn’t have done that, because now all my best memories with her are just that…memories”
Hyunjin swallowed, and maybe all the reading poetry had rotted his brain. His heart was starting to shrivel, just like the Hydrangeas that were out of bloom. Once he got home, maybe it was the right move to erase his chat history with you too. A small way of shielding himself from the damage that could follow. His memories with you would be lost, but his carelessness would only hurt the boys more.
Chan reminded him far too much of you, the way he held onto memories, objects, and tangible things with an iron grip. He recalled how sad you’d felt erasing the little star you’d drawn from Hyunjin’s face. It had meant so much to you. Maybe he was becoming more like you every day too, which is why the dying flowers still rested on Hyunjin’s desk when he should have thrown them out weeks ago. He ended up saying something that only halfway made sense, “I want to say that…the things we’re meant for will always come back to us, but… I stray further from that thought every day, so I would be lying if I tried to convince you of that” 
Chan smiled sadly, and he held something within his hands, “You’re the most romantic person I know, even without trying to be”
Hyunjin laughed, bitterly, “I think it’s safe to say I’m doomed”
Chan turned to him, “Don’t say that, Jinnie”
Hyunjin shook his head, facing him, “I came here for you, not to talk about me…you know you have me, always, right?”
“I know” Chan leaned in, wrapping his arm around Hyunjin. It was an awkward half-hug but Hyunjin relaxed into the embrace, whispering, “I’m so sorry it didn’t work out with Kairi”
Chan pulled away, a sincere smile on his face, “Thank you. We should probably get going if we want to make it in time for the conference”
“You’re right” Hyunjin nodded, but they made no attempt to move, trying to lengthen this short-lived peace.
“Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it.” Chan muttered, and it’s only then that Hyunjin realised what he held in his palm. A diamond ring. The one he was going to propose to Kairi with.
“What?” 
“What our lives are like. Do you never question that?” Chan asked. Hyunjin had never heard him talk like this, and he couldn’t comprehend this. Chan had built them up from the ground up, worked his ass off to get them to where they are. In fact, he couldn’t bear to see this side of him. He shouldn’t be questioning all his hard work, or that all would have been for nothing. Out of all people in the world, Chan couldn't be the one to lose hope. He was their rock.
He felt for Chan. So much. Yet, this train of thought was so dangerous. What would happen to them if they all started hating their job? They had never been forced into this career, they’d made their choices of their own volition, even if it was done as a teenager who didn’t know what he’d be giving up, but they’d gained so much too. The lifestyle Hyunjin led…people would kill for. 14-year-old him would kill for this. And he’d be so proud of him for it too. So, why was he questioning everything now? 
“No, I don’t” Hyunjin said. It was a lie, but he would sell it to Chan, for his sake, “We’re doing something impossible for most people to even imagine in the world. The impact that you have on people is…unreal. Millions of people love you, and you inspire them. You inspire me to work harder everyday. So, I don’t question if it’s worth it, and you shouldn’t either, Chan”
Something in Chan’s eyes changed, as if he had never expected him to say this. Hyunjin, the romantic, would never have said that. Love felt like the core of his life. He was hungry for it, but there was more than one kind of love.
So later that week, when Hyunjin stared at his phone in his hands, it was filled up with memories of you. Every phone call, each picture you’d sent him, each sweet thought he’d scribbled in his notes but never had the chance to send you. The press tour had already begun, and the boys were knee-depth in stress, and Hyunjin could never let himself add to that. Kairi had talked about sacrifices, and he finally understood it. Maybe it was cowardly to never explain to you what was happening, but it was easier. He didn’t have the heart to delete the past few months, so he took Eunwoo’s advice and changed his number instead.
Sorrow settled in his chest as Hyunjin realised that he would go to the ends of the earth for you, but perhaps that wasn’t still enough. He wasn’t willing to give this life up, and this was a sacrifice he was going to have to make.
»»————- Present Day. 
You only had the moonlight to guide you tonight.
There were hardly any streetlights this far out. It was pitch black, and the glow of the moon fell upon Hyunjin’s face, tracing each contour perfectly. You were trying real hard to not look at him. He was drumming his fingertips against the steering wheel and it was annoying. It kept grabbing your attention, and you’d glance at him only to remember you couldn’t do that anymore. You couldn’t spend time marveling at his little mannerisms because…things had changed. 
All you could do was listen to the conversations of the backseat. Chan was mumbling something to Kairi, and their voices had dropped in volume since you’d pulled out of the parking lot. Each syllable was spoken in a whisper, like it was a secret between them, and you felt like you were eavesdropping. Still, there was not much else to focus to. You definitely were not going to focus on the boy sitting next to you.
“I know that it could’ve been better…but I hope that you still had a good time today” Chan said softly, and through the rearview mirror, you saw that they’d laced their hands together. Kairi was leaning into him, fingers interlocked, and you looked down at your hands. The empty spaces between your fingers bothered you. 
“I did, Chris” Her eyes were closed, but she smiled, “Honestly, it was a pretty special birthday”
You averted your gaze, giving them privacy. Hyunjin kept glancing in the mirror briefly before looking back to the road. There was a small smile on his lips. He used to talk about them so much. He must be happy with this outcome. You didn’t know the details of what had gone wrong with their relationship, you’d never pried, but it must have been hard getting back together after all that heartbreak and pain.
“I’m…really fucking tired. I might pass out any second” Kairi announced, followed by a yawn.
“Don’t worry. Hyunjin is a smooth driver” Chan reassured, “Isn’t he?”
Hyunjin nodded, eyes flickering to Chan’s, “Of course. And um, Kairi, if you’re cold, I have an extra jacket in the backseat”
There was rummaging and then Kairi gasped, having found the jacket, “This is so stylish. I missed your clothes, Jinnie”
“Hey, hey. What are you trying to imply?” Chan complained. Kairi giggled, and Hyunjin laughed, “Your girlfriend is a fan of color, Chan. That’s not my fault”
“How predictable of you” Chan mumbled, and you could see him rolling his eyes. You drifted out of their conversation, looking out the window at the passing landscape. Trees drifted by in a blur and there was hardly any civilisation out here. Miles and miles of nothing. 
“Don’t you agree?” Kairi laughed, hand landing on your shoulder, and she was talking to you.
“Sorry?” You asked, “Agree with what?”
“Fuck. Did I wake you?” She apologised, “I didn’t realise you fell asleep”
“No, no, I’m up. I was just distracted….” You replied, clearing your throat. This conversation warranted another glance from Hyunjin, as if he was checking to see what you were distracted by. You returned his gaze with indifference, raising your eyebrows. He immediately looked away, back to the road.
“Well, I was telling Chris that your friends, Minnie and Jamie are one of the cutest couples I’ve ever met. I mean, I hardly see relationships that strong here; people are usually just serial daters” Kairi explained.
“Oh. Right” You nodded, thankful to have the context, “They’re…really cute, yeah”
“A serial dater?” Chan asked.
“Yeah. Dating apps will do that to you, especially in midtown. Take my advice now, never get on one, you’ll be fighting in the trenches” Kairi laughed. The trees were whizzing past so fast it made you dizzy, you mumbled, “It’s funny. Dating apps could never work back home”
“Cause you know everyone? Is that really true?” She asked. You nodded, “I mean, yeah. You go to school with the people technically in your dating age range, and there are only five restaurants and hang-out spots, so you’re always bumping into each other. It’s impossible to not know everyone”
“Was that ever weird?” Kairi asked, “Like seeing your ex at dinner or something?”
A small laugh escaped you, “It actually sucked. You couldn’t escape them”
“Did you ever run into her exes?” Chan asked, and it took you a second to realise the question was directed at Hyunjin. It took him a few seconds and he sat up straighter, mumbling quietly, “No.”
You blinked at his nonchalance, trying not to let this phase you. This could be a normal car ride if you just let it. Suddenly your gut was hurting with anxiety and you looked out the window again, away from him.
“Well, thankfully, I’ve never had to deal with that,” Chan spoke, “Eunwoo would have a heart attack if one of us was found on those apps. Although there’s quite a few fake profiles out there with Hyunjin’s face on them”
“Eunwoo?” You asked, ignoring the second part of his statement. It sent jealousy surging through you. Why did you feel jealous by even the thought of Hyunjin being on a dating app? You needed to get a grip on your emotions. 
“Ah. Hyunjin didn’t tell you?” Chan asked, so casually, “Eunwoo’s…our manager, of sorts”
Without thinking, you spoke, “I thought your manager was the lady in the shop”
“What shop?” Chan frowned, confused, “Wait, hold up. You’ve met one of our managers, Y/N? Where was that?” You stayed silent, for only a second, wondering if Hyunjin would answer this question. After all, he knew the manager and they were in the shop for a reason. The one where he had ignored you completely, as if you didn’t exist. You were only there by accident, after losing your way trying to find the Atelier. To your relief, Hyunjin did speak, “Yeah. That was Mrs. Giwon…she was accompanying me on one of the snack runs”
“Ah” Kairi exclaimed, “She’s…the worst one”
“Hey” Chan spoke, “She’s really helpful sometimes”
“Anyway…moving on” Kairi rolled her eyes, “She kind of traumatised me after she busted us”
“Busted you?” You turned, intrigued. Kairi laughed, “She walked in on me and Chan making out in the studio! God, that day was hell. She like…actually yelled at me for not maintaining a professional attitude in their building”
“And that, of course…led to the no-girlfriend in the studio rule,” Chan mumbled, and through the rearview, you saw him roll his eyes. That seemed like an insane rule to have, especially for adults. You stole a glance at Hyunjin to catch his reaction. He looked straight ahead, as if he couldn’t even hear this conversation, laser-focused on driving the empty streets. Kairi laughed loudly, “Changbin was the most pissed about that!”
“He has a girlfriend?” 
“No. That man’s a serial dater, through and through. He’s too busy producing insane music to have a full relationship anyway. He goes through NDA’s faster than you can say hookup, but honestly…he enjoys himself so much. He’s…very popular with all the girls”
You wanted to ask so much more about that. NDAs…? So that was a truth and not a rumor. Hyunjin had never mentioned those to you. At the paint and wine event, Sakura and Yeosang had asked him about it, and he’d been cautious about answering. But it was true. All of it felt so silly. Their words came back to you. Imagine sleeping with someone and then signing a contract instead of some aftercare.
If you and Hyunjin had hooked up back in Daejon, would he have also made you sign an NDA? But he fingered you. He let you touch him. He let you cut his hair and give him a handjob in his little bathroom. Did that not ask for an NDA? Or did he just trust you enough? All the possibilities floated through your head, and stupidly, like a stupid girl, you blurted, “So what all does that NDA cover? Is it just sex or…is it like, making out and other things too? And it's legally required?”
At your question, Hyunjin’s grip on the wheel tightened. His shoulders tensed up. 
You’d struck a nerve. 
Good. 
It was satisfying to know you had some sort of impact on him. Till now, he was just pretending you didn’t exist. 
Kairi paused, pondering over it, “Um…pretty much just sex, but like…I didn’t have to sign an NDA every single time. It’s only if it’s with a new person"
“Right”
Chan laughed, “I know. It sounds crazy. Especially in the 21st century, but with the internet and everything, you can never be too careful what people will say in a public forum. Hyunjin, didn’t you hate them too when we started out?”
Hyunjin cleared his throat, “Yeah. It’s stupid”
So he would sign them too? How often did he sleep with a new girl? You didn’t want to think about this any longer. There was no point wondering about his past when you wouldn’t be in his future. Your phone buzzed against the console and you grabbed it, positioning it on the seat between your legs so you could read it. It was a text from Felix.
hey. i was just talking with minho and man, i miss you I know you’ve likely forgotten all about me but call me later please…I think ill die here without you
A smile pulled at your cheeks, and you typed in a quick reply.
im getting back from a party lixie. It was kairi’s birthday. i miss you guys too :(
“Who are you texting at this hour?” Kairi piped up, leaning ahead, “Nate?”. You immediately clicked your phone screen black, even though you had nothing to hide. You just shot her a smile, “Just… a friend from back home”
Hyunjin probably knew exactly who you were talking about, yet he didn’t react. His stone-cold demeanour was really beginning to bother you.
“So where were you guys, at the party? When we found you, you two were at the cabins” Kairi spoke, breaking the tension. You swallowed, wondering if he would answer but he obviously wasn’t interested in speaking so you said, “I was dancing. And then…I hurt myself. So Hyunjin took me to the cabin to find a bandaid”
That wasn’t exactly what had happened. You had conveniently skipped over your argument, and the two of you spying on them, but Hyunjin nodded along, following your lie, “Yeah. There were no first aid kits there though”
Kairi nodded, “Shit, yeah. We didn’t think anybody would use the cabins for anything other than sex…anyway, I was thinkingggg we should play some game. It’d be nice to kill the time.”
Chan reminded her, “I thought you were about to pass out, baby”
Kairi was full of energy now as she suggested, “Well, I’m wide awake now! I kind of want the celebration to last a little while longer. Y/N, you can pick a game, since you're my guest of honour! Do you know any good ones?”
It seemed like Kairi and Chan had absolutely no fucking idea what happened between you and Hyunjin. They knew you weren’t together, but it seemed like they knew nothing more than that. Hyunjin hadn’t told them any of the details. They only knew you’d ended things, but not why. By their ease, and comfort…it seemed like they didn’t even know Hyunjin had been the one to end things with you. The memory of that made your chest clench, with hurt.
The heartbreak felt so one-sided. Everything seemed so easy for him. Had you got everything wrong this summer? Had you read too much into his actions? You felt embarrassed, thinking back to the kind of things you’d said to him. You didn’t tell him you loved him, but you pretty much said everything else. He knew more about you than anybody else in your life, and now he wouldn't even talk to you. You’d been willing to move to the city for him, but he didn’t even bat an eye. Being in Seoul suddenly didn’t feel worth it anymore.
“Sorry, what were you saying?” 
“We still are two hours out of the city. It’d be fun to play something” Kairi said, glancing at the GPS on the console. Play something? Like a road trip game? This hardly felt like a road trip, it was far too depressing to be one. “I’m…good with anything” You spoke, “I’m kind of really tired”
“How about word association?” Chan suggested, “I used to play that with my family as a kid”
You realised he was waiting for your response so you nodded, “Sure. How does it go…? Is there a way to lose?”
“Only if you take longer than three seconds to answer. We go in a circle, Kairi can start with any random word, you have to say a word related to the previous one, and the person who can’t come up with something loses”
You weren’t really in the mood to play, but you would need more energy to protest. Plus, any time interacting with the back-seaters was time removed with the boy in the front seat. Kairi quickly explained the rules, and that it would go clockwise, starting with Hyunjin. He still hadn’t reacted to the idea of the game so you weren’t even sure if he was playing. Kairi hummed loudly, looking around for inspiration. Dark clouds were forming on the horizon so she naturally said, “Thunder!”
“Storm” You immediately said.
“Well, Hyunjin was supposed to go” Kairi laughed, “I’ll go again. Eclipse?”
“Cosmic” Hyunjin replied. A curt, short, emotionless answer. You realised you had to speak now. You mumbled, “Um…the stars”
“Marilyn Monroe” Chan said. Kairi laughed loudly, “Chris. What the hell?”
“What? She’s…a star” Chan defended. You smiled at their bantering. Kairi rolled her eyes, “No. That’s what’s called a Freudian slip”
“Excuse me?” Chan giggled, “Don’t psychobabble me. What even is that?”
Kairi laughed, “It’s this theory that if you accidentally say something wrong, you were thinking about it subconsciously. Most people are thinking about sex, so that’s what a lot of Freudian slips reveal”
“So what… you’re accusing me of wanting to sleep with Marilyn Monroe?” Chan frowned. She giggled, “No, I’m just saying that’s how it works, smartass. It usually reveals your repressed thoughts”
You glanced back at her, “Yeah. I guess that’s what this entire game is about. Although I really don’t think Freud has had the best ideas. Some of them are…really regressive” 
Kairi grinned at you, nodding aggressively and she was still tipsy from before, “You’re so right, honestly. Most of the people I played this game with had no idea what a Freudian slip was. You know, this is why we’re friends. You’re…so fucking cool. You’re just like me”
“Y/N is not just like you” Chan laughed loudly.
“Excuse me?” She gasped, offended, “You just met her. How would you even know what she’s like?”
Chan chuckled, “Yeah, but I’ve been hearing about her all summer—” He suddenly stopped, realising what he’d said. An awkward silence enveloped the car and you did everything not to look at Hyunjin. So… Chan had been hearing about you all summer. You knew Hyunjin had told the boys about you. You just wondered what he’d said. What did he know of you? Chan cleared his throat, embarrassed by his slip of the tongue, “I mean….never mind. Should we continue the game? Hyunjin. Why don’t you start?”
Hyunjin swallowed, adjusting his hands on the wheel, “Um. I don’t know. Sin?”
Your eyes widened at his word choice, and it was your turn to go next. Sin? What was he even thinking of? Your mind went through the seven deadly sins that you knew of, and you only had three seconds so you blurted, “Lust”
It was Chan’s turn now, and he blanked, eyes widening, “Uh…passion?”
You didn’t like this tangent of thought… and you waited for Kairi to say something. Chan teased, “Are you serious? You’re gonna lose”. She yelled, “Wait, wait. I know. Yearning!”
It was Hyunjin’s turn to play. His mouth parted, and he was about to say something, but instead he chose not to. He just shook his head, “I don’t know…I can’t really focus on the game when I’m driving”
Kairi sighed, “Can’t believe you lost on yearning, Hyunjin”
“Yeah. My mistake” He mumbled. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel. You didn’t really want to play this game anymore. You stared out the window, your reflection flickering in the window. You wanted to be home already, and not in this car where you felt like a stranger.
There was so much brevity and lightheartedness in the conversations between Chan and Kairi, and here you were…struggling to even get a proper hi out. You felt like a stranger, even to Kairi. You’d only known her for a few weeks, compared to them. The three of them felt like a unit, like a family that was finally complete again. Hyunjin had sang praises of their love, and you could see it now. It wasn’t anything grand or impossible, it was so casual and effortless. Kairi and Chan fit together like puzzle pieces, so perfectly, but even more than that, they enhanced each other so simply. There was no fear of misunderstandings, or betrayal. They were giggling in the back, laughing about some inside joke you’d never be able to understand. Perhaps you shouldn’t have accepted this ride. Kairi was your friend, but you weren’t really welcome here. You were an outsider. Chan must have wanted to keep the conversation going so he said, “So, Y/N, you were about to tell me about yourself when we got in the car” 
You swallowed, “Um, I didn’t know I was going to be doing that”
Kairi teased, “Yeah, Chan. I thought you knew all about her, and how me and her are so similar”
Chan giggled, “It was a figure of speech. No, but seriously, Y/N”
You bit your lip, and a deep sadness was overwhelming you. One you’d been trying to escape for months but it seemed impossible now. You’d genuinely enjoyed the party, until he’d showed up. He’d ruined everything. It had taken so long for you to not think about him. Now you felt like you were sinking again, “Um…what do you want to know? I came here to study art. There’s not really much to tell…You’re the one who has a really interesting life."
Chan frowned, “Come on. That’s not a real answer. I wanna know you, not answers you’d type in on some Facebook page”
You were at a loss for words, and you mostly just felt conscious around Hyunjin. You always hated introductions like this, and icebreakers, especially around someone you wanted to like you. Chan seemed amazing, he was brilliant so how could your little life possibly impress him? You’d done nothing that would have an impact on anyone, unlike them. Anything you say would be so boring. So you settled for a basic fact about yourself, a preface to your personality, “Well…I used to work in an art—”
“She’s a really good artist” Hyunjin suddenly interrupted you.
Your gaze snapped to his.
“Oh yeah?” Chan asked, surprised.
“Yup” Hyunjin cleared his throat, “She’s in the most prestigious program of the country” 
Chan smiled, “Wow. That’s…amazing, Y/N. You should be bragging about that stuff”
“There’s only like…25 people that get in from across the world” Hyunjin continued talking, staring right ahead so casually. There was a knot in your stomach, and he had the faintest of a smile on his face as he talked about you. It was more than he’d given you in the past hours, “She’s one of the few domestic students”
“What? You didn’t tell me that!” Kairi exclaimed, hand reaching out to tap you. But you were speechless, staring at Hyunjin. Why did he just do that?
“Well, now you’ve got to show me your art, Y/N!” Chan grinned, “Hyunjin’s got pretty high standards when it comes to those, so I’m curious”
You nodded, forcing a smile at him, “Yeah…um, maybe later”
“Well, I hope you taught Hyunjin something too” Chan laughed. 
Hyunjin nodded, and there was a hint of emotion as he spoke, “She did”
You chewed on your lower lip, fiddling with your jacket, thinking about his words, even long after he’d said them.
The barren highway enveloped the car in darkness, and the tiny GPS screen was the only light source. You stared ahead, watching the road lit up in the headlights, uncovering more of the unknown every second. There was nobody else out here. It was spooky, and you hated the feeling. You felt trapped in this metal contraption. Hyunjin’s fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel, a familiar rhythm, probably calming his nerves down. The backseat noise had died down, and it seemed like the tiredness had finally hit Kairi. The only indication of passing time was the clock on the dashboard. You watched it tick down every second, hoping it would go faster. The city was still so far out. You leaned back onto the seat, watching trees whiz past in silence. Hyunjin was so quiet you’d almost think he fell asleep. The only surmountable sound was the heating, and the tapping of his fingers. You closed your eyes, hoping the time would pass faster.
You couldn’t help but think of what was waiting for you. There was no lingering excitement. This party had been the only thing you’d been looking forward to for a while. There was so much work back in class, starting Monday. Kim Jieong was expecting so much from you. You felt emotionally drained. He was your only motivation, pushing you to get better. After all, there was nothing else waiting for you back there. 
Suddenly Hyunjin cleared his throat, drawing your attention. From your peripheral vision, you saw him reach for the radio, fingers hovering over the console, and then he looked to you, “Um…mind if I put something on?”
You blinked, distracted by how he looked in the glow of the light. His glasses were thin, hanging on his nose bridge, and his lips were pursed. He’d bitten them raw. Maybe you weren’t the only one anxious in this car. You shook your head, “Go ahead”
He pressed a button, and life filled the previously stagnant car. An announcer was talking, probably at an all-night radio station, and you asked softly, “Wouldn’t this wake them up?”
Hyunjin looked at you again, over the rim of his glasses, eyes meeting yours for another torturous split second. In the dark, they looked like pools of black, a darkened gaze as he spoke, “Uh, don’t worry. I turned the speakers in the back off. It’s only the front ones that are working”
Oh. You didn’t even know that was possible. They obviously had access to the best cars with the best technologies. Music began playing, a rock band from the 80s, and you rest your head again, closing your eyes to savour in this newfound peace. It was strange to sit next to the man you desired the most yet have no conversation. For the past few months, it had been impossible to separate you, and the irony of this moment didn’t fail to surprise you. You’d come all the way to Seoul for him. Yet the only sound in the car was Bon Jovi on the radio. 
“Um—”
“So—” You and Hyunjin both spoke at the same time.
“Sorry,” You apologised, “What were you about to say?”
He glanced at you, hand reaching out to the radio again, and you noticed he had new rings on his finger. They looked so expensive, glittering sparkles, and he must have bought them recently. He seemed nervous and he spoke, “I can…uh, change the music if you don’t like it”
Your eyebrows shot up. That clearly wasn’t what he was going to say. “No, it’s nice. I like him”
He nodded, retreating his hand and putting it back on the console. You wondered about the unspoken, but wondering would only kill you. So you shut your eyes again, hands warm in your lap, wishing to be somewhere else. The tune was thrilling. 
“80’s music is actually one of my favourites”
You opened your eyes to look at him, “Really?”
“Yeah. I think….their songs are pretty incomparable. I actually got a lot of inspiration for our album from them. I don’t know if you heard it; it’s very pop-rock heavy, which isn’t what we usually do” He spoke, a nervous wavering in his voice, as if you two were just getting to know each other. 
You observed him, “Is that what you were going to say earlier?”
“Sorry?” He looked right at you, dark eyes flickering over your features. You felt conscious of how you looked. You were still in his sweater, and your hair was still wet from the swim. You said, “Um…you were about to say something but decided not to. Was that it?”
Realisation sank into his face, lips parting, “No, I was…going to ask you how you met Kairi”
“Oh…” Disappointment filled you. What were you expecting to be said? An apology would be nice actually. Something to start with. You were having trouble grasping that things between you and him were truly over. They couldn’t be. Hadn’t he only come into your life yesterday, uprooting everything you thought you knew about yourself? Or maybe you were just desperately clinging on to a summer dream that wasn’t real.
“Sorry. Should I not have asked?” Hyunjin said. 
“No, that’s fine. It was just a crazy coincidence. We were at a bar…me and my friends, and somebody spilled a drink on her, I just happened to be there. I offered to help her. Obviously…I didn’t know who she was. Later, I realised it was Kairi”
“That’s…” Hyunjin’s fingers adjusted on the steering wheel, he spaced them out, glancing at you again, “That’s really nice of you”
“Yeah”
“Are you cold?” He asked.
“What? Um, no.” You shook your head awkwardly. His sweater was keeping you plenty warm.
“Okay”
The silence drowned you again, and you focused on the song playing, replaying the previous conversation in your head, clinging to it for life.
“I…tried Gouache” 
It took you a second to register that Hyunjin was talking to you, again.
Why was he making an effort after what went down earlier? You’d argued and fought, and now he was…trying to be nice? Was he trying to make amends? Did he finally realise what an asshole he’d been? Or were his memories of summer coming back to him too? Because every time you looked at him, all you could remember was the calmness of each moment you’d spent with him, and how his skin had felt to touch, and how his body had felt against yours, warm and comforting. How could he not be thinking of that?
“Sorry?” You glanced at him. 
He straightened up, hands clasped before him, “I…taught myself Gouache. I hadn’t explored it much before, but I had some time between schedules last month and I decided to give it a shot”
You didn’t know what to say. Gouache was such a difficult pigmented paint medium to work with. You stayed quiet, which somehow… he took a sign to continue speaking, “It was hard…but I found the supplies and tried many styles with it. I couldn’t get it right for the longest time but then realised I had the wrong brushes. I…think I prefer it to watercolor”
“Are you serious?”
He glanced at you, almost surprised that you’d replied even though he had been telling you all of this. He nodded, his lips a thin line.
“Gouache can never have the same effect, or…even replace watercolours. It’s…so much more intense. It loses all of its softness” You ended up saying.
“Have you worked with it before?”
“In class. I do all the time” You answered, “I don’t like it. I prefer acrylics or oil”
Hyunjin nodded, eyes zeroed in on you again, “Do you have the freedom to choose?”
“Choose what?”
“The material you want to paint with” He stated, simply. 
“Yeah. It’s up to us” You said.
Hyunjin just nodded, and then silently turned away. As did you. Queen was playing on the radio now, and you liked this song. Somebody to Love. It seemed like Hyunjin enjoyed this song too, because he reached ahead, his bracelets clinking together and he increased the volume just slightly. You glanced in the rearview mirror, and Kairi and Chan were still asleep, cuddled up to each other. Hyunjin was softly singing, under his breath, but he knew all the words. His voice brought a strange calmness to your body, warming it up.
“I can’t believe you tried Gouache” You mumbled, still thinking about it. You didn’t want to initiate conversation with him, not after everything he’d done to your heart. But you were so curious. It was really hard to work with, especially if someone was a beginner.
“Can I show you something?” He asked.
“What?”
He looked at you, a newfound energy in him, “The…paintings I’ve been working on”
“Unless you’re going to pull over—”
“They’re in my phone. You can just…see them there”
You glanced at his phone that lay on the console.
“Um…are you sure?” You reached for his phone, and it was strange that he completely trusted you with it.
“Yeah. I don’t mind. There’s nothing I have to hide from you. The password…I can just type it in” He grabbed it from you, entering random numbers that you couldn’t grasp the significance of, before handing his unlocked phone back to you. The wallpaper was a pretty sunset. You recognised the landscape instantly. It must have been the pictures he took on the Ferris wheel with Seungmin, back at the summer carnival. Memories of that flooded through you. It had been a perfect day. You recalled the photobooth pictures that lay in your sketchbook, Hyunjin had put them there for you to find. You still didn’t understand why, or how he got a hold of them. As far as you knew, he’d deleted them in front of your eyes. You glanced at him; his eyebrows were knitted as he concentrated on driving, still occasionally mouthing the words to the song. You may never get this chance again. “How’d you get those pictures?” You broke the silence.
It took him a second to comprehend your question, and he turned casually, “Hmm?”
In this angle, confusion on his face, nose scrunched up, he looked so tame, so innocent. You already wished to take back what you’d said, in case it ruin this strange peace. It was too late to back up now as he stared at you so you said, “In my sketchbook, I found the photobooth strip. The pictures of us kissing. I…thought you deleted them”
His eyes widened, and he turned back to the road, voice dropping low, “Oh… It doesn’t really matter, Y/N”
His response irked you. It reminded you again that this was futile, whatever you chased for with Hyunjin. “Yeah. It doesn’t” You agreed, looking back at his phone in your hands. You opened up his picture gallery. Everything was divided into little folders, and his entire life was so organised. If you were his girlfriend, would there be a folder for you in it too? You clicked on the one which was so fittingly named ‘Art’. You were annoyed at him but you couldn’t pretend, “Oh. These are…really good, Hyunjin”
He clearly gravitated towards drawing flowers and landscapes. Some of them were familiar, most of them were new. There were so many pictures of flowers, at all stages. He must be drawing from life. It seemed like he’d developed a lot of art ever since he’d come back. They were all so intense and bold, no softness to them that watercolour provided. You’d always thought that Gouache was something in between watercolour and acrylic, a strange midway compromise, yet Hyunjin had made masterpieces out of it, “You did all of these in Gouache?”
He only nodded in response, as you scrolled through the gallery.
“You’re crazy” You said.
Hyunjin let out a laugh, “You really hate it that much?”
“It’s just difficult to work with, but you’re actually really great at these” You stared at the art, and how his technique had improved. All his lines were more confident, pronounced, bolder. He’d gotten so much better in your absence. You’d only gotten worse in his.
“So…how’s the apprenticeship going? Is Kim Jieong as nice as you thought?” He asked. You put his phone back on the console, even though you urged to see everything he’d felt worth storing in his phone. He had asked you a question so you tried to focus on that, “Yeah. He’s really nice. He is so talented. I, um, asked him about the painting, by the way. The one we were talking about”
“The one about the lovers drowning in moonlight?”
You nodded, hands feeling jittery, unable to stomach this casual conversation, “Yup. He was surprised it was my favourite. He thinks I have morbid taste. And… the day he took us to your work building, he wanted us to meet some gallery curator”
“Must have been Karina”
“You know her?” You glanced at him, hoping your face didn’t give anything away. How petty of you to be jealous that he knew another girl. Another artist at that. 
“She’s the prodigy I was telling you about. She wants me to…exhibit some of my work at a gallery next month”
Your eyes widened, and you fiddled with the zipper on the jacket, “Oh. That’s…a big deal. Are you allowed to do that?”
He looked at you, “Yeah, the company and Eunwoo’s really supportive. The fans love it, so he thinks it’s a great stream of revenue and publicity. Any press is good press. He couldn’t care less about the art” 
“Right” You nodded, watching him, “Well, maybe Kim Jieong will make it a field trip for us again. Your exhibition”
Hyunjin’s lips tugged into a smile, “That’d be really embarrassing. I wouldn’t want all your professional artist friends to judge my work”
“Well…they’re not as pretentious as you might think. My friends…they’re really nice. Everybody’s not bad. I mean…it was hard settling in, but…I think I like it now” You were rambling, without meaning to share so much with him. Maybe you’d just been craving to have a real conversation with him all this while. After all, he was the only person in your life who understood, “And Kim Jieong is my favourite part of it anyway. Even if everybody sucks. I look up to him a lot. He…even calls me sweetheart. It always throws me off” 
“Isn’t that a bit inappropriate?”
You frowned, not expecting that response, “No…he has different nicknames for everyone”
“I see” His reply was curt, like he didn’t believe that. He cleared his throat, “And um…your friends? The other students? Are they cool?”
“I mean, you’ve already met Jeonghan”
“Is that the boy who you were dancing with?”
“Yeah, that’s him”
Hyunjin stayed quiet for a minute and then he said, “He has two left feet”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry” He chuckled dryly, “When you were dancing with him, he almost dropped you…like ten times”
“He only came to the party for me, because I didn’t know anybody. Don’t make fun of him. He was kind of the best part of my day”
“I’m not making fun of him. It’s just an observation” Hyunjin mumbled, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes and he looked at you, “And I saw your face. You were worried he’d drop you too”
“I was not” Your eyes narrowed, but a stupid smile tugged at your lips, “Anyway. You’re one to talk. You’re probably worse”
He laughed properly this time, looking at you over his glasses, “Oh, am I?”
You shrugged, “We’ve never danced together so it could be true”
“I think you’re forgetting that I’m a professional dancer, Y/N” His tone was cocky.
You sighed, facing away to look out, “Ugh. Do you always have to bring up the idol card?”
“The idol card?” He repeated, “That’s my job, what do you mean?”
“Just seems like an unfair advantage”
Hyunjin chuckled, “Fine. Okay. Even if I wasn’t a professional dancer, I bet I’d still be able to take Jeonghan in a dance battle”
“I’m starting to think that you’re obsessed with him…”
Hyunjin laughed, “I guess I see why you chose him now”
Your gaze darted to his, “What?”
You arrived at a railway crossing. The signal was loud, and he stopped the car, foot on the brake as he slowed down. “He is your boyfriend…isn’t he?” He said, so surely. 
You stared at him, wondering how he could ask that so casually, so unaffected. You’d probably die if Hyunjin had a girlfriend. Did he think you’d move on so fucking fast? You woke and fell asleep to the thought of him every day still, months later. You thought of him every waking second. Maybe you should take a book out of Hyunjin’s ability to be vague, “Are you seriously asking me that?”
He looked at you, eyes heavy with emotion. He swallowed, “Yeah. I am”
You stared right back at him, heart pounding fast, “Yeah. I am dating him”
“Oh” He shifted in his seat, “That’s nice…how long have you known him?”
You couldn’t believe he could be so…casual about it. You looked out, “It doesn’t matter”
Hyunjin nodded, “Well. For what it’s worth, Nate seems like a nice guy”
You just couldn’t comprehend how the fuck he could be so casual about this. As if you two had just been an inconvenient situationship and your lives and souls hadn’t completely intertwined this summer. As if you’d just move away, and get a new boyfriend and fall in love. As if you could ever truly move on from Hyunjin. As if he didn't know that you'd been in love with him this whole time. It wasn’t that simple. It could never be.
“So…you really don’t give a fuck?”
“I’m sorry?” He looked at you, feigning innocence, “About what?”
You could have said so many things. Bitterness clawed out of you. “Well, for what it’s worth, Nate’s a great kisser”
His eyes widened, and he nodded, voice falling low, “I’m sure he is”
You couldn’t stop. You wanted your words to stab him like little knives he’d dug into your skin all this while, “And for what it’s worth, I actually trust him” 
Hyunjin tensed up, fists clenching at the wheel. The train was just passing by, and the signal was so loud but you knew he heard you. “I’m…glad you trust him” He ended up saying. 
You watched him, observing every micro-expression. You could have played along, egged him on, made him believe it. He should hurt too, like you were, but you couldn’t wrap your head around this. Was it really so easy for him to move on? He was pretending like nothing ever affected him. Were you seriously the only one who had been invested in the two of you? You let out a laugh, “So that’s it?”
“What?” He looked at you.
“You don’t care? You really think I would just date…a random guy from my class? Because if you think that, you don’t—”
His brows shot up, “I’m sorry, so you’re not dating him? Why would you tell me you were?” 
“Do you care if I was?”
He frowned, eyebrows furrowing, “Seriously? You know I still care about you, right?”
It pissed you off. He had no right to say something like that when he didn’t give a fuck about you. He had just abandoned you, with no intention of ever making up things, “I don’t know, Hyunjin. I mean…everything you’ve done to me the past few months has shown me quite the opposite. That you don’t care”
His eyes widened, “Everything I’ve done to you?”
A scoff escaped you, and you were losing it, “I’m sure you had your reasons for never wanting to talk to me again. I, personally, would have just liked a goodbye or an explanation before you decided to leave. That’s just me though. But you know what? Maybe I read too much in what happened this summer”
He swallowed, shifting to look at you, “Look, it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. I didn’t know how to explain and I thought that you would understand—”
How the fuck could he expect you to understand? Your voice shot up, and everything you'd wondered over the past few months bubbled to the surface, “You…pushed me away, Hyunjin. You completely got rid of me! I’m sure you had your reasons, but I wasn’t okay. I’m still not fucking okay. It was a complete asshole move to block me for months with no explanation. I didn’t even know you’re capable of something like that, but you know what, it sucks to find out. In my head, I built you up to be some angel on a fucking pedestal. That was obviously my mistake” 
He swallowed, adam's apple bobbing, and you could see him grappling with what to say. It felt good to render him speechless. It took away from your embarrassment of knowing that Kairi and Chan could probably hear each second of this conversation. 
“Things were always going to end this way. You knew that, Y/N” The way he spoke pissed you off, like he had a rehearsed answer in his head and no real fucking emotions. Why could he just not tell you what he truly felt? Why was he trying so hard to be someone he was not?
A dry chuckle escaped you, and it was better you take out your anger on him because you felt like crying with each word you said, “No, I didn’t know that. if I knew that you were just going to disappear, I would have preferred never to know you”
His gaze burned through you, “Y/N…”
Somebody suddenly knocked on Hyunjin’s window, and you shook away your building tears. It was an officer, and Hyunjin rolled down the window, “Yes?”
He leaned in, not knowing what he was interrupting, “Excuse me? The signal’s running at a delay. There’s going to be a ten minute hold-up”
Hyunjin nodded, “Oh okay”
He rolled the window back up, and looked back at you. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't even look at him. You hated him and his fucking nonchalance. You swallowed, “I need some air”
Before he could say something, you opened the door, stepping out. There would be a delay anyway, and hardly any cars were behind you. You walked to the side of the street, taking in a breath, willing yourself to not start fucking cry.
Another car door slammed shut behind you, and Hyunjin followed you out.
“Y/N—” He said, walking around the car, following you to the side.
Your emotions were brimming to the top, and you couldn’t keep it in. It would be petty, mean, childish but you deserved to get some answers.
You turned around, voice raising, “If I hadn’t moved to the city, you would have never met me again” It wasn’t a question. You knew he had no plans of returning to town anytime this century, “And you were just okay with that? With never seeing me again?”
He closed his eyes, his body towering over you, “It’s…not that simple”
“Yeah. It is. You didn’t even think I was worth an explanation…or a proper goodbye?”
“I…didn’t know what to say. You just have to believe when I say I’m doing this for your own good”
“Really?” You scoffed, “You expect me to believe that…? You could’ve said anything.  Anything would have been better than what I got. Just tell me what's going on, please”
“Anything I said would have hurt you” His voice was shaking, like he was going to cry. How could he ever explain that he had picked his life over you? That you were the sacrifice he had decided to make?
You loved him, and you couldn’t bear to be the reason he cried but you had so many questions. Your voice was loud, in disbelief and frustration, “How is this any different? You cut me out of your life like it was nothing”
“It wasn’t nothing. It was just as hard for me as—”
“No, I’m not done talking. After losing you, moving to the city was the hardest thing I ever did. Leaving Daejon behind, all my friends…the only life I knew, and this place where I don’t really fit perfectly, but I’m trying so hard to. It is so hard. The only thing I love…I can’t even love that anymore because I can’t fucking stop thinking about you when I’m painting! It’s not fair. You had a choice, Hyunjin. I didn’t” Your voice broke.
“Before I saw you in the shop, I was this close to calling you up” He held up a small gap between his fingers, “I just…always ended up talking myself out of it”
A scoff escaped you, at the ridiculousness of his response, “I really have a hard time believing that”
“I don’t expect you to believe me anyway” He mumbled. You stared at him, crossing your arms, wondering how everything led to this, “I thought you were different, Hyunjin, from every other guy I’ve known in my life… but you…”
He stepped closer to you, running a hand through his hair, “What was I supposed to say to you, Y/N? That I never want to see you again? Do you think that would be easy for me to say?”
“I don’t know, Hyunjin! I don’t fucking know, but anything would have been better than what I got, because the person I knew would never have acted this drastically. So, were you just pretending in Daejon? Or are you pretending now? Because I’m having a real hard time telling who the real you is, Hyunjin—”
His eyes widened at those words, as if they personally struck him. He grabbed your hands, pulling you closer to him in the process, “Y/N— Stop. I’m not…I never pretended with you”
His grip on you was firm, but enough that you could let go if you wanted. You looked up at him, and you were already so emotional, “Then why are you being so cold? You’ve been acting like you don’t care, but I don’t even know if you’re acting anymore. I feel like…I never saw the real you. That’s what you’re making me believe”
His closed his eyes, shaking his head at your words like they were the worst thing he could hear, “I’m sorry”
Your eyebrows knitted together, voice fading, “For…what?”
“For…changing my number and not telling you” He swallowed, and his hands held yours in between them like a prayer, “For…trying to push you away. For ignoring you in the shop”
His eyes glimmered with incoming tears, but he cleared his throat, and blinked them away, “I’m sorry I didn’t apologise until today”
You swallowed. You’d been waiting for an apology this whole time, but your heart still hurt. There wasn’t any explanation. You couldn’t…just believe him. Your heart squeezed so bad, it felt like a heart attack. You blinked away tears.
“There’s…a lot I want to talk to you about, but I can’t do it here” He swallowed, and there was a cloud of smoke when he talked, it was freezing outside but your heart felt dead, “You just have to believe me when I say I’m doing this for your own good”
“I don’t understand…”
He closed his eyes, and the train at the signal crossing was still passing, giving you a few more moments of his vulnerability, “I’ve told you before. If we didn’t stop talking when we did…it would have led to something more that I can’t deny. I’m not going to regret my choices because I know why I made them. And that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I will always fucking care about you, it’s insane to even think anything else but…I can’t be in your life, and you can’t be in mine”
Tears threatened to shoot up, but you had some dignity clinging on so you said, “Then what is this? Why are you still being nice to me, making conversation? Why did you show up tonight? Why are you driving me home? If you don’t want me in your life, then just…stay out of it, Hyunjin”
He blinked, glossy eyes, and suddenly the car behind you honked. The train had passed, and you were free to cross.
His voice was shaking and this was the most emotion you’d seen in him in months, “I…couldn’t leave you at the party. It’s not safe…of course I had to drive you home. I would go insane if something happened to you”
You ripped your hands away from him, “Then I guess it’s a good thing that it’s not your responsibility anymore”
»»————-
The rest of the ride was fucking horrible. You stared out the window the entire time, and Hyunjin didn’t say anything else. Maybe it really was over now. What was left to salvage? You don’t know how much Kairi and Chan had heard, but it didn’t matter anyway. They were probably getting back together, which meant you couldn’t be a part of this anymore. If Kairi started hanging out with Chan again, you would obviously not be invited. Not after they witnessed you being such a bitch to their best friend. They were friends first, after all. You were the stranger.
“The next right turn” You mumbled, as you approached the street you lived on. Hyunjin brought the car to a stop. They were now awake in the backseat. You didn’t even know what to say. You unbuckled your seatbelt, grabbing your bag of things, avoiding eye contact with anybody, “Thank you for the ride home”
“I can walk you home” Chan offered.
“I’ll be fine. It’s a minute away” You replied, holding your bag to your chest.
“It’s really late out” Chan replied, insisting. You didn’t want to argue with him any further. The longer you argued, the longer you’d have to stay in this car, next to Hyunjin. He was looking at you, but he was pretending real hard not to. The eyes flickering back and forth, it couldn’t fool you. You’d become an expert on all things him. These secretive glances were all you had back then, so how could you not notice them now?
“Don’t worry about it, Chan” You replied, shooting them a smile so they believed you. Chan nodded, and you glanced at Kairi. She looked tired, but she was in his arms, so she was clearly very happy. She smiled warmly, and you wonder if they’d heard you breaking down. Her voice was soft and sweet, and she grabbed your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “Thank you for a perfect birthday, Y/N. You had a good time?”
“Of course.” You nodded. You were suffocating in here. You reached for the doorknob, but then you heard Hyunjin’s voice, “Good luck with class”
You couldn’t see the look in his eyes, but you’d die for it. You stepped out into the cold, glancing briefly back, “Yeah. Thanks.”
It didn’t matter because he had already looked away. It’s like he couldn’t bear to see you anymore.
»»————-
“Do you want to talk about it?” Your neighbour, Jeongin, stood in the doorway. You had been standing in the cold for a while, staring at the spot the car had been. It had driven off a while ago, but you could still picture it where it stood. The humming of the engine, the heat, the stupid 80s music stuck in your head. You had been so mean to him. He didn’t deserve it.
You looked at him in surprise, “You’re awake?”
“I work on European time” He shrugged, leaning against the doorway. It was freezing cold, and you could feel it in your bones. It had never been this way back home. “Let’s just go inside” You spoke.
“That sounds like a wonderful idea” He smiled, pulling you in by your arm, “I was wondering how the party went”
You followed him up the stairs, feeling like a zombie in each step, “It was good. I missed you at it. You should have come”
“I’m sure Nate kept you plenty company” Jeongin laughed, “Are you going to go to sleep now?”
It was almost six am, and the sun was rising. You don’t think you could fall asleep with these thoughts in your head. You glanced at him, “Why? You got something in mind?”
He grinned, like he'd been waiting for you to ask him this. And so you spent the dawn with Jeongin, in his cosy apartment, struggling over a 1000-piece puzzle and downing the red wine he’d brought you. He didn’t ask you any questions, which was nice. You wouldn’t even know where to start. He was sweet and he was always smiling, telling you about his work and all the new video games he’d bought. You prolonged everything, asking more questions, anything to keep the focus on him. You didn’t want to go back to your empty apartment and face your thoughts.
“How long have you been living here?” You asked. The window in his apartment was bigger than yours, facing out at the busy street, as the city woke up and came back to life.
“Almost my entire life. Moved here when I was twelve” He told you. You couldn’t bring yourself to be excited about this anymore, or about anything else. You missed your friends, the familiarity and comfort of them. You missed the diner, and it’s cheap coffee.
“Does it ever get easy?”
He laughed, “Honestly, no. Seoul…is hard to fall in love with, but once you do…you never go back”
You sighed, placing the final piece of the puzzle. You missed your art shop. It had always kept you safe and happy. If you knew it was going to be this hard leaving that behind, you would have thought twice, “I think…some people probably never get used to it. That makes me sad”
“Yeah?” He asked, “But you’re used to it now, aren’t you? You once told me it was written in the stars for you to come here”
“I don’t know if I believe in that anymore”
He relaxed on his couch, “I’m sure things will change. You’ll find something worth staying for”
You shrugged, pushing the puzzle to the side and it fell apart, all the pieces getting jumbled up. He didn’t complain about you ruining your hours worth of hard work. He just watched you grapple with your thoughts. You looked up at him, feeling hollow inside, “I think I made a mistake, Jeongin”
»»————-
Kairi had apparently found the best dessert shop in the city. She had pleaded you for hours until you’d decided to come. There were no seats inside the place, it was so busy, and so you and Kairi sat on a patio table outside. You looked around, as you swirled your hot coffee around. There were no leaves on the trees anymore. Winter had finally come.
“I’m going to bring Chris this when he gets back” She spoke, through a mouthful of brownie, “He doesn’t really have a sweet tooth, but I know he will love this. I once baked the boys this cake for Jisung’s birthday, and Chris said he hated it, but I saw him eat all the leftovers later. He literally stole mine too!” She laughed.
“When he’s back from where?”
“Oh, right. They’re in Japan. They had a flight the morning after my birthday, remember? Well, they’re supposed to show up at an event in Tokyo, and then they come back home for a few days, until they go back again. It’s the end of the season so there’s a bunch of award shows” She told you, sprinkling sugar crystals into her coffee. You didn’t know that they were in an entirely different country, “Must be hard. All the flying back and forth”
She shrugged, taking a sip of her drink, “Not really. They’re used to it at this point. It’s tiring, but…in their line of work, they have to learn to adjust”
Maybe that was your biggest flaw. You couldn’t adjust. To a different life, to new friends, to a new bed. To a life without him. 
“I’m sorry if I ruined your birthday”
Her eyes widened, and she kept her cup of coffee down, “What are you talking about? You’re the one that made it perfect. You made it happen in the first place!”
“Yeah, but…” You trailed off, feeling embarrassed, “You must have heard us”
She swallowed, “I didn’t hear anything. It wasn’t my business to.”
You looked up at her, “Chan must hate me”
“What? Why would he?”
You looked down, “I’m…an asshole”
She reached ahead, grabbing your hand, “No one thinks you’re an asshole”
You let out a sigh, and you didn’t believe her, but there was no point arguing. 
The next week, the boys flew back home. You only knew because Kairi told you. She had been counting down the days till they returned. She invited you out to a small get-together, but they would all be there. You said no. 
Slowly, all your plans with Kairi became into plans with Kairi and Chan. You wouldn’t mind at all, because you loved Chan. You just hated that he almost always came with Hyunjin. So you never went to any of those. He would be grateful. He probably never wanted to see you again either. Your time with Kairi became divided. You didn’t blame her. She was in love, and you wouldn’t deny her any time with him. It became obvious how much happier she was around him.
A week later, you realised you still had Hyunjin’s sweater that he’d given to you at the party. So, you washed it and returned it to Kairi, hoping he wasn’t angry that you kept it with you for so long. You’d truthfully forgotten. You wouldn’t want to keep anything of his longer than you had to anyway. 
»»————-
Nate was staring in awe at your painting. It was balanced on the easel, and you stood next to it, embarrassed at the attention it got. Nate laughed in disbelief, “Holy shit. That’s…beautiful. When did you get the time to make that?”
It was show-and-tell day. You were almost in the middle of your semester, and you were supposed to display your best work in class. You looked back at your painting. Ever since Kairi’s birthday, you hadn’t left your room. You’d been fixated on this. There was only one good thing left for you here, and it was this opportunity. You’d do anything to grasp at it, and maybe all your sadness and heartbreak had ended up being perfect inspiration. You had been endlessly inspired, each brushstroke came to you so easily. Perhaps all good art did come from suffering. Your best work to date you’d done when feeling your worst. You’d sniffled, and cried and fought your way through it.
“I…found time” You shrugged. Your hands were folded behind your back as you explained it to every single person who passed it. All the easels were set up in a circle, and it was almost like those expensive Château classes you could never afford to go to. Nate smiled at you, tilting his head, “You’re so mysterious. It suits you”
“I’m really not trying to be” You replied, “It just…came to me”
His eyes trailed over you. You’d tried to dress your best, an outfit you’d bought off the fancy boutiques, and it had cost you a fortune but none of your own clothes would fit the vibe. Nate’s voice dropped, “Is it weird if I say that you being coy is a turn-on?” 
You smiled at him, wondering why his words had no effect on you. He made you feel wanted. He flirted with you endlessly. He was attracted to you. He actually wanted to talk to you. 
But you knew that was all. He didn’t want to date you. He certainly didn’t have any intentions of a relationship. Perhaps, you didn’t want to just be wanted anymore. 
“Mmh. It’s…a little weird” You teased him.
Kim Jieong approached you, and you straightened up, pulling Nate to the side. He glanced at your painting, and he certainly looked impressed. There was a small smile on his lips, and he was observing your art with all the focus in the world, “How many hours did you spend on this?”
“Maybe…twenty”
He laughed at your feeble attempt of lying, “That looks like…it took a hundred, at the least. Is it all you did this week?”
You nodded, “That’s what I’m here for”
He looked at your painting again, “As your professor, I have to say that I wish you hadn’t sacrificed sleep for this, but…” He leaned in closer, voice dropping, “This is exactly why I picked you, sweetheart”
Your eyes widened, not used to this proximity, but you felt so special. He hadn’t said this to anybody else. He was far too close to you, but you blinked at him, “Are you proud of me?”
He laughed, lifting a finger up, “You’re not there yet”
Your face fell.
“I’ll be proud of you if you can get that done in a day” He smiled wide, hands clasped behind his back, “You should start preparing for next week. I want you to make something special. If you win, it’d mean a lot for you, Y/N”
You nodded, remembering the assignment. The best painting in the class would be chosen for a prize. A scholarship, and the chance to get your work displayed in Seoul Museum of Art. It would certainly make everything much easier, taking the burden off you, and you’d also get a perfect start. You would finally be able to prove your worth here.
»»————-
You’d been painting all day, and your clothes were ruined with stains. You were working on the assignment for next week, it had to be perfect to win, and you hadn't got much sleep, completely immersing yourself into this. In a little break, you laid on your couch, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the call to go through. Yeonjun picked up your phone call, and he sounded so happy on the other end. It had been a while since you’d talked to him and he apologised, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy with work. There was a company retreat last week, and we went out to these cabins in the woods. It was straight from a horror movie, and there was no network there. I took some pictures for you though”
“How did it go? That sounds nice, to be away from everything”
He laughed, “It was. I missed you though. But…I have some news to tell you…something happened”
“Yeah?”
“Remember the girl from my work I said was cute? She…kissed me. We actually, ended up making out in the hot tub. It was really fucking nice” You could imagine him smiling on the other end, and it warmed your heart. You sat up, smiling, “Are you serious? That’s so…amazing. So…you guys made out? Is that all that happened?”
He laughed on the other end, “No. We…slept together. Every night of the retreat”
Your eyes widened, “You’re kidding me. So, you really really like this girl”
“I mean, yeah, things with her are so…simple and easy. She gets me, and she’s so fun to be around. Sometimes that’s just how it has to be”
You thought of the polaroids on his desk of Hana, “Did she never ask about the pictures on your work desk?”
Yeonjun laughed nervously, “I…ended up taking those down. It’s easier to move on that way. I mean, I won’t ever be over her, but…it’s a start”
“Yeah. You’re probably right”
“I may have discovered a new kink about myself” He joked, “I have an urge to just move to that cabin and live in that hot tub forever”
You smiled, “Maybe you should”
“How about you though?”
“Well…I’ve been trying to make my magnum opus. If I have the best painting in class, I get to win this insane amount of money for a scholarship, and…it’ll be perfect”
“Well, you’re obviously going to win. I already know you’re the best in class”
You smiled, “I appreciate your faith in me…I think I’m going to start working on it in the classroom. It’s going to be a really big canvas, and there’s not much space in my apartment”
“That makes sense. And um, I wanted to ask, how are things with…Hyunjin? Did you guys ever talk after you saw him in the shop?”
You lay back down, and the lie was on easy on your tongue, “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since then”
“Wow. He…hasn’t even reached out to you?”
You shrugged, echoing his words from before, “I don’t care. It’s easier to move on that way”
»»————-
Your canvas lay across multiple tables, occupying most of the space in your classroom. You’d joined them all together, it had taken a lot of strength, but it was worth it. Now, you sat on top of the paper cross-legged in the center. It was easier to work this way, as if the entire floor was your painting. You hope you weren’t breaking any rules by being in the classroom after hours. You’d just wanted some time to work on your painting, and you weren’t exactly inspired at your place. Your anger from the past few days had manifested into this; an insane obsession to make this your best work ever. You would prefer that over sadness. This, after all, was the only reason you’d come here. Not for him. It was almost midnight, and you scooted across the canvas, filling in more details of your sketch. Your plan was far too ambitious, but you were going to have to go all out to win the contest. It was the only thing you cared about right now.
“I didn’t know anybody was in here” The voice made you jump. Nobody was supposed to come in here right now, the building was shut down. You glanced up, watching Kim Jieong walk in, and you smiled at him, “Professor. Hi”
His eyes narrowed in on your silhouette, and a familiar smile across his face, “Oh, it’s you. What…in god’s name are you doing on top of the tables?”
“Um, my canvas is pretty big, so I thought it’d be easier to work like this” You explained. He laughed loudly, “You’re adorable, Y/N. You know that?”
You sat back down comfortably, realising he would let you stay here, “Um. Thank you, professor”
He looked around, “Oh, please don’t let me interrupt you. Why is it so dark in here though? I can hardly see you"
Adjusting your canvas and brushes around it, you spoke, “I like it that way. I think much better in the dark, the lights were too bright. Plus, the moonlight looks really nice”
You think he smiled at your words but you couldn’t tell in the dark. You could barely see him, just his silhouette and you heard him laugh. You heard his footsteps as he approached his own desk, “So, we’re far from the final project. I’m curious why you’re in the studio”
You bit your lip, feeling anxious about all this effort you were putting in, “I’m working on the contest painting. The scholarship…I really want to try my best. I also don’t work too well at my apartment, I thought maybe I could work here”
“When I got a notification that a student was still in the studio, I was curious. I had to cut my dinner short”
“Oh” You blinked, feeling guilty, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it notified you…”
“Of course, it’s for the safety of our students” He smiled, stepping towards your workspace, “Would you indulge me in what you’re working on…or is it a surprise?”
Your canvas wasn’t ready to show, “I’d prefer if you see it when it’s finished”
He laughed, and asked, “May I sit next to you?”
“Oh, you won’t be getting back to your dinner?” You asked, looking up at him.
“No, I’d like to stay here with you”
He was perhaps the only person in the world you wanted to be around right now, so you didn’t mind. His presence would calm and comfort you, “Of course. That’d be fine with me, professor”
He pulled a stool up close to your workspace. The greenhouse-studio was deathly quiet and he inched closer to your table. You stared at your big sketch, “I’m really sorry about interrupting your dinner. I thought it’d be fine if I let myself in”
“Don’t apologise, sweetheart. My wife was pretty tired anyway. Just gave us a reason to end the night early”
He was at dinner with his wife? You didn’t even know he was married, but he was in his late thirties so it made sense. You continued adding details, but you couldn’t focus when he was observing you so close. Thankfully the dark could conceal your expressions and embarrassment. You ought to feel proud. The greatest artist in the country was here to watch you paint.
“Have you…eaten dinner yet?” You heard him ask. You glanced up, gesturing to the side of the classroom where your leftovers lay, “Yeah, I had some chinese takeout. Although when I’m painting, I don’t get hungry for hours.”
He just hummed in response. You were grateful that your mentor wanted to sit with you so badly that he skipped dinner with his wife. But the other part disliked the supervision, and you did want some alone time. Still, he was the greatest living artist, so you’d learn to adjust to it. After everything that had happened, he was also your only hope of making it big in the city. He was the sole reason you were still here, spending thousands just to stay in Seoul so you could attend the classes. You looked at him, and he was admiring you while you worked, so you said, “I might be here all night. I wouldn’t want to keep you"
He frowned, “I don’t mind staying. I could get some work done too”
“Oh…sure” You looked back at your sketch, erasing off a mistake. He stood up, walking towards the cabinet, sifting through canvases. Usually, you weren’t awkward around him, but right now it was really late and you were tired to make small talk. But it’d be weirder if you just stayed quiet. You felt a need to fill in the silence with anything, “So, Professor, um…your wife. How did you meet her?”
He shrugged in your peripheral vision, not particularly excited to answer, “The usual. We were high school sweethearts. Got married as soon as we graduated. I was too focused on my art to pursue other women anyway”
You nodded. Well, that made it even more awkward. So you kept going, “Right. Wow. High school, that’s really cool. Was she…any of the inspirations for your paintings?”
“Some of them, yes”
“That’s really nice.” You smiled, sketching out the boundaries for the stars. The idea for this painting had come to you after waking from a dreamless sleep. You’d ended up researching for it for hours, making sure you were portraying accurate art. You couldn’t wait to present your concept next week.
“What about you?” He asked.
“Sorry?” 
“You have a boyfriend?”
You blinked, a nervous laugh escaping you, “Um…not currently. I’m also…I guess, trying to focus on my art, and build a career from it”
He smiled at you, crossing his arms, “Guess we’re more alike than I thought”
You looked back at your canvas as he walked closer to you, “The temptation to understand your sketch is a lot. Can you give me a hint as to what it’s about?”
You slid your sketchbook towards him, where you’d drawn up a miniature version of the sketch, “All I can tell you now is that it’s…a landscape, inspired by my time in the city so far. I was walking home the other night and I couldn’t help but notice the night sky. I’ve always liked it, and I know it’s been overdone in art, but I wanted to explore a new side of it. Someone once told me that there’s no stars in the city, which just…sounds so sad. I was thinking along the lines of that. What do you think so far?”
He pushed his glasses up, a proud smile on his face, “I think that…I’m incredibly lucky to have you. I can't wait to see what you'll do with this”
Your eyes widened, unsure how to respond, “Um…I mean, we’re the lucky ones. We get to study under you, Professor”
He laughed, his voice echoing through the empty studio, “Stop calling me Professor. I think you and me are way past that, don’t you?”
“It’s…only appropriate.” You frowned, going back to work. That was weird. You don't think you would feel comfortable calling him by his first name. And then, you felt another stupid need to fill in the prolonged silence. He was here watching you after all, you could just ask him all the things you’d wondered for years, “Um, I wanted to ask. The painting about the moons. Celestial Fatality. Did you paint that when you were in college?”
He hummed mindlessly, not really answering your question, then he grabbed your sketchbook off the table. Eyebrows furrowed, he stared at it, "I think you can work on your perspective, but these are nice. These hands. You’ve drawn them countless times”
“Yeah” You felt embarrassed, and climbed off the table so you could also see what he was looking at, “It’s a friend from back home”
“Did you draw these from observation?” He asked, as you joined him at his side.
“Hmm. He really wanted me to draw his hands,” You said, recalling the time Hyunjin made you observe them.
Kim Jieong laughed, “Can’t blame him”
A nervous laugh escaped you at those words, “Yeah.” What did he mean by that? You reached to get your sketchbook back. Instead of handing it to you though, he sat down on the desk, turning the pages of your book, “These ones are pretty good too”
“Yeah” You nodded, taking a seat next to him, unsure of what to do, “I made those a while ago”
As he turned another page, something drifted out, landing on the floor. Your eyes widened, and you reached for it. The photobooth strip pictures of you and Hyunjin. You felt embarrassed, but thankfully, Kim Jieong didn’t notice or see them fall out. You grabbed them, hiding them between your palms on your lap. There was nothing wrong with him seeing them, but…it was embarrassing and stupid to carry around pictures of a boy who wasn’t even your boyfriend. 
“You’re very talented” Kim Jieong spoke again, voice dropping low.
“Oh…thank you. It means a lot hearing it from someone like you” 
He finally put your sketchbook to the side, looking right at you. He did look kind of intimidating in this light, towering over you, “This scholarship means a lot to you?”
You swallowed, feeling embarrassed, “Yeah. I could use the help. It’s an expensive life here, and I’d really appreciate it. Plus, the exhibition would be a great kickstart to…a career”
“The others don’t need the scholarship. They just want it so they can win” He said, then leaned forward, “Don’t the rich kids get on your nerves sometimes? They don’t act out of necessity, but you…” He pointed a soiled paintbrush at you, “You’re wonderful because… you’re desperate”
“I’m sorry?”
“Desperate to be seen, and respected. As an artist, I mean. I don’t mean that badly, but all great inventions are born out of necessity. I think that’s why you stand out from the rest”
You didn’t know how to take this compliment, “I guess”
“You know you have the potential to go so many places?” He asked, tilting his head, waving your sketchbook about in one hand. It was so dark in here, and the building was completely empty except for the two of you. This…felt increasingly inappropriate. You were in the studio after-hours with your professor and he was far too close for comfort. He was your favourite artist…but he was still a grown man and you didn’t want to overstep as a student.
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged and stepped closer to you, caging you against the table, “I mean, the right people can get you into any exhibition you dream of in the world. Paris, New York, Seoul. Isn’t that what you fantasise?”
An awkward chuckle escaped you. He was far too close to you, “Yeah. That’s the end goal. The scholarship…would definitely make it easier to get there”
Suddenly, the sound of roaring thunder distracted you and you looked to the windows. The clouds had now hidden the moon, casting a dark shadow over the entire art studio. A chill ran up your spine, and you suddenly felt uncomfortable at his proximity.
“Um..I think the last bus home leaves in twenty minutes. I’ll try to catch it” You stated, shooting him a smile and standing up.
You took your bag, but Kim Jieong grabbed your arm, pulling you back towards him, “You can always convince me”
“Sorry?” You fumbled, stupidly. You…had to have heard him wrong. What was he talking about?
He smiled sweetly, and in the dark, his glasses glittered, “If you won the scholarship, the other students wouldn’t question it, you’ve already proven your worth to everyone”
“Right” You were unsure what he was trying to say, or hinting at. What the fuck did he mean by saying that you could convince him? “I should really go”
“It’s pouring. You’ll catch your death out there, Y/N” He stated, pointing to the storm outside. You swallowed, his grip on your arm foreign, “That’s fine. I have an umbrella”
“Ridiculous. I’ll give you a ride home” He shook his head.
“You really don’t have to. I already feel bad for ruining your dinner”
“Oh, stop apologising, Y/N. Your sweet talk drives me mad sometimes” His hand moved from your arm to your waist, wrapping around it and he pulled you closer to his body, "You stress too much. You need to learn to let things go”
You took a step back, unsure how to process this, “Professor…”
He closed the distance, and his other hand grabbed your chin, voice low in the dark room, “Why do you seem so nervous? You don’t have to be around me. We’re just talking, aren’t we?”
“Right” You were having a hard time breathing, panic surging through you. He was right. Of course. He was your professor. He would never hurt you or make you uncomfortable. He was a living legend. You shouldn’t be nervous. He was just being kind to you. He was the only person you’d looked up to your entire life, the reason you’d tried so hard to come here, and he would never do something wrong.
“I can see you struggling in class, and I know you’re doing everything you can to prove your worth. I’ve asked you this before, about what your dream is. ” He spoke, voice as low as a whisper, fingers gripping your jaw. 
“I…I don’t know what you mean” Your voice was shaking from the nerves, with no fucking idea how to navigate this situation. If you pushed him away, you’d lose all chance of winning the prize.
“Well….whatever it is” He smiled sweetly, and in the low light he looked less like the mentor you’d grown up loving and more menacing, “All you have to do…is ask me”
His eyes flickered to your lips, and back to your eyes. His grip on your waist was so tight, it felt like his palm was burning into your skin through your shirt. Had you somehow given him an alluded hint? He took a step even closer.
“I’m sorry….” You pushed him just enough so he wasn’t holding you anymore.
He looked surprised, eyes wide, and he laughed, “Y/N…What are you doing?” You grabbed your bag in a hurry, “I’m sorry. I should really go. The last bus…”
He called after you, but you rushed through the glass doors to the emergency stairwell. You didn’t want to be stuck in the elevator with him. You couldn’t breathe, legs moving off their own accord. A flash of lightning through the glass windows scared you, and you all but ran down the emergency stairwell, bag hanging off your shoulder, fists clenched. What the fuck. He obviously wasn’t making a move on you, right? You were just being paranoid. He was your professor. He was…the most famous artist in Seoul. He was the kindest person ever. You had to have been reading into things. 
You pushed the heavy door open, walking out onto the street. It was pouring rain, and you let out a breath, taking in the air. The rain soaked through your clothes, and you were shivering. You wanted to call Hyunjin so he could pick you up and so you could cry in his arms, the only place where you'd feel safe, but he'd never even given you his new number. He clearly wanted nothing to do with you. You looked down at your hands, and in your tension…you’d completely crushed the photobooth strip to pieces. 
Raindrops slowly trickled down, tracing the ruined paper in your palm. The only memory left of you and Hyunjin was now gone.
»»————-
You didn’t show up to class the next day. Or the next. Or the one after that.
You were still trying to wrap your head around it. Were you stupid for declining his advances and whatever he was suggesting? You couldn’t go back to class and face him. You’d be too embarrassed of your reaction. Maybe he wasn’t even suggesting anything and you jumped to conclusions. You had to have been imagining things. After all, he didn't actually do anything. Still, you’d ruined all your chances of getting the scholarship and succeeding in his class. What if he brought it up in class? What would the others think?
Your body was shaking from the cold. The heating in your apartment wasn’t working, so you sat on the floor, back to the kitchen counter, knees pulled up. You’d forgotten your huge canvas in class too, and it was probably in the garbage by now.
Your phone buzzed loudly, and Felix was calling. You picked up so he wouldn’t worry, but your voice sounded hollow, “Yes?”
“Babe. Where have you been? You’re not answering any texts the past week”
“I’m sorry…I got caught up in things. Is everything okay, Felix?”
“More than okay” He smiled on the other end, “I’m at the diner. They’re throwing a big party tonight! Apparently, it’s been ten years since it opened! Can you believe it?”
“Wow…it feels like we’d been going there our whole life”
“That’s what I said!” His excited voice came in, “So anyway for their anniversary celebration…all the drinks and food is free. You best believe I’m making full use of it”
You could hear so many familiar voices in the back, “Who all is there…?”
“Umm…well me and Minho, obviously. Hana’s here too. Seonmi, Eunbi and the others. Seungmin’s here as well.”
“Wow…I really wish I was there, Felix”
“Mm, I wish that too. Your apprenticeship better be worth it, Y/N. You’re missing all the good stuff. And everybody in Daejon misses you a lot. Mrs. Aera came up to me today and said the shop’s a mess without you haha”
“Really? It is? Mina isn’t taking care of it?”
“Ah, you know how Mina is. She can’t organise for the life of her. That shop was basically running because of you” He laughed, and you could hear him chew something.
“What are you eating?”
“Blueberry-chocolate waffles. There’s this new recipe Seonmi is trying out, and it’s so good. You should have it when you come back. How about you, love? Are you missing me a lot?”
“So much” You mumbled.
“Kim Jieong better be worth it” He sighed, “I guess I forgive you because you’ve been obsessed with him for years. Is he as dreamy as you imagined?”
“Um…” Your gut hurt, the memory of that night flooding through you, “Yeah. He’s…great”
“I’m sure he is” Felix chuckled, “I still remember how you stole all the magazines in the library that had his paintings in it”
“I didn’t steal them” You protested, “I just…borrowed them for a really long time”
He laughed, “To fawn all over your artist crush. I get it. And…what about your other lover? You accidentally bumped into him yet?”
You forced a smile, not having enough energy to protest that he wasn’t your lover, “No…I haven’t seen him”
“Well. Seoul isn’t that big, I’m sure you’ll find him. Or he’ll find you. Oh, I also forgot to tell you! A new cafe opened up in Daejon last week. It’s some fusion book-and-coffee cafe. They actually have the best coffee in town, no you didn’t hear me say that Seonmi” He started laughing, and you could hear them in the background. Suddenly, the past few months felt like a joke.
There were only two reasons you’d uprooted your life and come here. Now, you’d lost them both. 
So why were you still here?
Maybe you had acted rashly. You thought you’d fit in here, and that this was where you were meant to be. You’d felt stuck there, but here you weren’t any better. You'd probably only found the courage to come here because you knew Hyunjin was here too, and that was clearly...not the right thing to do. He didn't even want you near him, or anywhere in his life. He had made that plenty clear.
“I think I made a mistake” You whispered.
“Sorry?” Felix asked, still laughing loudly, “What mistake?”
“Moving out…I shouldn’t have done that”
“Wait…what? What do you mean?”
“I think I should come home”
“You’re messing with me. Right?” Felix laughed, “Didn’t you want to move to the city since you were fifteen?”
“But I was a kid. I didn’t know anything. I had no idea what to expect”
“Y/N…what are you saying?”
“I was happy in Daejon. I should never have come to Seoul” You stood up, moving to your bedroom.
It was like a parasite, an idea festering into your brain and heart, that maybe this was the reason for this unhappiness. Things were perfect in Daejon. Why had you been complaining all your life? All of your happy memories were there, so the logical thing to do…was go back to where they were created. Then you’d be happy again. You hadn’t learnt how to be happy in this house, in this city, in this new life. 
“Babe. I would be the happiest boy in the world if you came home to me, but maybe you should think this through. Did something happen? Why are you being like this?”
You grabbed your duffel bag off the shelf, “I can’t go back to class, Felix! I can’t. I messed up, big time”
“No, I’m sure you didn’t. You could never—”
“You don’t even know what happened!” You yelled. He fell silent on the other end, “Love. Just…what’s going on?”
You stared at your empty bag, “I’m…coming home. I should never have come here”
“Is that Y/N?” Minho’s familiar, comforting voice came in. You wanted to hug him and never let go. They were so far away. “Yeah” Felix responded to him, voice falling, “She says she’s…coming home”
“Give me the phone” Minho mumbled, “Y/N. What’s going on?”
You tossed your clothes in your bag, messily zipping it up, “I can’t stay here, Min”
“But what about the art classes?”
“If I don’t withdraw, I’ll probably be kicked out anyway” You mumbled, “I didn’t go to classes all week"
“You should think this through”
“I have thought it through! It was a stupid fucking mistake. One I needed to make. You know what they say anyway. The grass is greener on the other side. I just fell for the charms of the city, like everybody else”
“No disrespect but you’re making no sense” Minho’s voice was harsh, “You can’t just give up”
“Can you give the phone back to Felix please?” You asked.
“Fine” You heard it being passed around and then his voice came in, “Love. I’m here”
“Lix” You swallowed, “I know it seems like I’m being irrational, but I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I know it’s embarrassing and stupid, but maybe I was never supposed to be here”
Felix’s voice was so soft, calm, encouraging. You just needed to be near him, in his arms. “I believe you, Y/N. I’m gonna be okay with whatever you decide. I just really want you to think about this”
“I…I want to hug you, Lix” A sniffle escaped you, “I don’t want to go back to class” The idea had completely taken over you.
“Are you sure?”
“Nothing can make me stay” You swallowed. There was a sigh of resignation on the other end, and you knew he wouldn’t fight with you. He would agree with whatever you decided, and that’s what you needed right now. That’s why you called him, and not Yeonjun, or your other friends. Felix was the one person who wanted you home more than anything. He wouldn’t talk you out of it, even if this seemed like the stupidest decision you might be making. 
“What do you need me to do?” He asked, voice soft on the other end. Relief spread through you, and you stopped to look at the window outside your apartment, “A train ticket.”
You could sublease your apartment. You could figure the rest out from the comfort of your real home. You could go back to Aera’s, and get your life in order. You’d find a way to love Felix back. After all, he was the only one who wanted you the way you needed to be wanted. Maybe you were destined for that kind of life after all, where everything stays the same everyday. But that’s good, it was safe. The boy you loved had made you think that you belonged in the city, but he couldn't be more wrong.
That’s what you told yourself, at least, ripping your paintings off the wall. In your short-lived time here, you’d made and put them up to feel less lonely. There’d be no room to carry them back, so you bunched them up, carrying them to the garbage disposal in your apartment. As you shoved them in the disposal, you felt nothing. The hallway was warmer than your apartment and it made you feel a tad better.
Your phone buzzed again, and Felix had sent you something. The train ticket he’d bought for you. It was for tomorrow morning. You knew that you could always trust Felix, with anything. He would always be there for you, if nothing else. Perhaps you'd taken your friendship with him for granted this whole time.
“Need some help?” Jeongin asked. He was coming up the stairs, probably after having heard your struggle with the garbage. You shot him a smile, nodding. He came over, helping you, “Are you redecorating?”
“You could say that…”
“Wait. Are these your paintings?” He realised, stopping halfway.
“Can you help me with something?” You looked at him. He looked confused, and he was frowning, “Um. Sure. What do you need help with?”
“My suitcases…I don’t think the elevator is working”
“Are you going somewhere?” He tilt his head, further confusion scrunching his face. In another life, you and Jeongin could have been really good friends. 
“I’m just going home for a while” You mumbled, shutting the garbage door. For a while would be forever. He didn’t need to know that. It’s not like he would be sad, or miss your presence. 
“Oh. Okay. Of course, I’ll be there in a bit”
Back in your apartment, your phone buzzed again. It was your groupchat with Jeonghan and Minnie. You skimmed through the messages, feeling regretful.
yn are you sick? what’s going on? professor jieong told us you weren’t eligible for the prize anymore
You turned your phone off, staring outside the little kitchen window. The traffic wasn’t as loud as usual. It was a quiet night.
You hugged yourself, trying to find a singular reason to stay. Why had you wanted this life for so long? It had given you nothing but heartbreak, yet a part of you was so sad about leaving tomorrow. You squeezed your eyes shut, a single tear escaping. Maybe you wanted a sign to stay, despite everything in you screaming to leave. When you opened you eyes, your reflection mirrored on the glass pane and then you saw it.
A snowflake drifting down. It twirled in place and your eyes followed its path before it settled on your ledge, quickly crumbling into nothingness.
And then more followed, a flurry of snow falling like stardust. It was beautiful, a cloud of white enveloping everything so quickly, covering the street below. 
Your first snow in the city. 
A bitter smile tugged at your lips. 
The doorbell rang.
Jeongin was already here to help you with the bags. 
So much for a sign.
You grabbed your duffel, and your suitcase, wheeling it out. The quicker you moved with things, the easier it would be. Reaching for the rusty brass doorknob, you pulled the door open.
“Can you take this one? I’ll bring the other” You mumbled, pushing your things out. He nodded, still seemingly confused but he asked no questions, “What time’s your train?”
“In a few hours” You glanced at your phone, “But if there’s going to be a snowstorm, I’d prefer being at the station early…”
He grinned, still so happy and you wish he could share his secrets of eternal happiness, “Smart move. If it was me, I’d probably miss my train. Can’t tell you how many times that’s happened”
You smiled at him, “I can’t afford that”
“I called a taxi cab for you” He said. You nodded, “I’ll meet you downstairs. Thank you, Jeongin”
You stepped back into your apartment. There wasn’t much you’d brought with you, so there wasn’t much you had to take back. You’d never grown fond of this apartment. It had always felt like an inbetween place, while you waited your life to be perfect. Waiting was doing no favours for you.
You shoved your sketchbook into your duffel, putting on your coat before closing the apartment door behind you, and your throat closed up as you realised what you were doing. This was so fucking stupid, and this was rash but what else could you even do? Maybe you could come back to the city in the future if you wanted, but right now it was a terrible decision. You would go back home and you would hug Felix, and maybe you would kiss him and the ache in your heart would be better. The thought of his arms around you, as someone who genuinely cared about you, already made you want to cry.
You unceremoniously dragged your bag across the landing, and the taxi must have arrived already because you heard a loud honk.
It was freezing in the otherwise heated hallway. Your breaths came out in soft mists.
The door downstairs must have been left open, sending cold winds and flurries of snowflakes up the apartment. 
Jeongin would never forget to do that…
As you approached the top step with your bags, you realised who’d left it open.
Draped in a beige trench coat, cheeks red from the cold, Hyunjin stood at the bottom of your staircase.
»»————-
masterlist ⇒
please let me know if you liked the chapter, or any thoughts on this part! thank you :) 
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macfrog · 4 months
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wish you were here | one shot
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thank you lovely anon for this gorgeous request which felt like a huge mug of hot chocolate and a pair of socks fresh from the dryer to write. i hope you enjoy.
pairing: joel miller x fem!reader
summary: you and joel skip jackson’s annual holiday party in favor of some alone time. (not that kind you filthy animals it’s the HOLIDAYS)
warnings: fluff lmao, thirty-year age gap and u can stay mad, set around the holidays but no mention of christmas etc, nothing but love and two hints of sex. that's all. oh and no guitars were harmed in the making of this - joel canonically goes and gets the guitar after the fic ends. dw.
word count: 1.9k 
main masterlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🤎
Jackson is alive with a thrumming heartbeat. Pulsing through the air, bumping gently against the quick-lying snow and filling the otherwise silent night. A steady, rhythmic heartbeat.  
A heartbeat which sounds a lot like Blue Monday, but a heartbeat nonetheless.
The holiday party is in full swing down in the Tipsy Bison. Seven o’clock ‘til late! on flyers plastered all over the commune for the last month. Tommy had tried relentlessly to convince Joel this morning on patrol – It’ll be a good night; You oughta come along, show face at least. At the same time, Maria was on your back about it in the stables.
Y’all hardly come to anything fun, she’d argued.
We come to stuff.
When’s the last time you came to anythin’?
We were – we were at Mike’s birthday dinner.
What – five months ago?
We like alone time.
Alone time? You’re never apart from one another.
Alone time – together.
Neither attempt had been successful. Tommy and Maria had exchanged a disheartened glance as the two brothers passed their horses to you on their return. Joel clipped your cheek, took his gloves off and fixed them onto your frozen hands before making off for home, a proud grin on his face. You’d held your own as well as he had: you two had a clear evening ahead.
He had lit and nurtured a fire, had made himself a coffee and heaped half a damn bag of tiny marshmallows into a hot chocolate for you, but when he’d come through to take his place on the couch, you were already stood out front.
It’s bitter out – a soft breeze, but a thick chill on its wings. The sky a washed gray, heavy clouds overhead. He slips outside, setting the mugs down on the table, and slings a blanket over your shoulders. Kisses the curve of your neck, scruff of his beard tickling your skin.
‘s freezing, pretty bird.
Then keep me warm, you whisper, turning into his arms. He steps back, settling into his chair, flicking his fingers for you to fall down into his wide lap.
You curl up against his torso, your head hooked beneath his jaw. Wonder how drunk Tommy is by now. What is it – nine?
His wrist lifts, moonlight gleaming in the reflection of his broken watch face. Just gone ten. I bet he’s on his ass already.
You giggle into his shirt, breathing in the scent of the pine trees, the smoke from stoking the fire inside, the bite of hot coffee. The echo of voices swelling in merry song turns your attention down the street – two figures hooked onto one another, stumbling through the powdered snow. Some slurred rendition of September melting into All Night Long before the smaller of the two tugs their partner off into a darkened house.
Joel laughs to himself, the bristle of his beard catching on your hair as he shakes his head.
You ask him softly, Will you play me something?
His breath soars, a cloud hot and pale white, past your temple and up into the pastel sky. Gets swallowed somewhere overhead by the wash of warmth from the porch light. He turns his mug until the owl faces the street, the bottom gnawing against the wooden armrest of his chair.
I’m serious.
What do you wanna hear?
That one you’re always practicin’. The plucking one.
Another rumble between your shoulder blades. His chest jolts with a solid laugh. The pluckin’ one.
You know the one.
I know the one.
Will you play it, if I go get the guitar?
Baby, his lungs nudge on your back as they fill, it’s late. We’ll wake the neighbors.
Everyone’s at the dance. C’mon.
And he can’t argue with that. The entire street lies dark, vacant. Yours is the only house with soft-glowing eyes, the muted orange of the fire flickering behind closed blinds. Two figures, tangled in a chair on the dim front porch; a hunting jacket around his shoulders, and his body around yours.
You tug on the blanket, wrapping it around your elbows as you stand. Just once. Play me it once.
Joel’s looking up at you, setting his mug down on the table. Play you it as many times as you want, pretty bird. Just – quietly.
There’s a spring in your step that drags another chuckle from Joel’s lips: the kind that drips like honey down your throat and warms the pit of your stomach – a sweet, comforting thing, a sound you swear was made purposefully for you. Divine and deliberate.
Like – all of him. Like the shape of your name in his mouth, the curl of his tongue as the sound surfs over it. Like the curve of his hand and the way yours so neatly molds into it.
The way it did the day he found you, crouched in the gray backroom of some butchers deep in the city, and took you all the way back to Jackson. Let you cling to him on the back of his horse; your weak arms around his waist, anchored by the heavy jacket he’d thrown over your back. Your ear between his shoulder blades. And that was that.
Fifty-six. One brown-turned-silver hair away from thirty years your senior. He still remembers before. Talks about movies, talks about computers. Talks about Sarah, when the sun hits the wall at a certain angle and he reckons he could see her standing right there, the soft shadow of her hair dark against the golden wall. When you make a joke and he laughs a ghostly sort of laugh, like he’s hearing the echo of her voice make the same quip three decades ago. He always says she would’ve loved you; you like to think he’s right.
He found you: a lonely little broken heart, and he pulled you to your feet with a rough palm against your own. Hands calloused only from years spent carving wood and pressing the hard strings of his guitar into the fretboard, and nothing else. No violence and no bloodshed; no survival or threat. Music, and patience, and kindness.
And maybe you found him, too, in the same sort of way: roughened up, awkward and messy stitches holding him together. Maybe the two of you nursed one another back to life; each brush of your hands in the dining hall and each meaningful glance while out on patrol sewing those wounds up a little tighter, a little safer.
He sits forward when you hold the instrument out, sweeping a broad palm down the slope of the body. Pinches the pegs one by one, twisting them while his thumb taps on each string.
Come here, he says, beckoning you forward with a flick of his chin. He taps on the seam of his jeans, widens his legs for you to curl up between them at his feet – the way you always do.
Your elbows hook over his thigh, ear pressed against the inside of his knee. Staring up, blinking slowly, eyes glazed with the cold and with the light and with love.
He plucks gently, slow at first. Letting the strings snap with a twang, vibrating enough that you feel the small rattle in your jaw. Your eyes fall closed, head rocking with the light tap of his heel on the porch. When you peer at him through your lashes, he’s watching the skilled movements of his fingers intently; as if he’s as much a spectator as you are – his body doing all of the thinking and working for him.
 So, he sings, and your stomach melts to a puddle, so you think you can tell –
Your eyes close again, the low rumble of his voice crisp in your ears. Like thunder, like the promise of something great and mighty. Something moving, something rolling and changing the landscape of your body, your mind and your soul. The lines between living and dying begin to blur, the seam tearing between this plain and the next.
Did they get you to trade – your lips parting to whisper the words with him – your heroes for ghosts?
His thumbnail dragging down the strings, his strong fingers flitting between chords. Like he was made to sit here, in the dead of night, and carve a space in the world for himself and his voice and for you – lain in the safe scope of his body, protected by his breadth and brawn and lulled by his sweet song.
His breadth and brawn – the parts of him which have kept him standing here. His skeleton, his muscle. But the thing that keeps you warm at night, buried side by side under a threadbare woolen sheet together, the thing that you link your arms around as he leads you home from the nights you dare to visit the Tipsy Bison: are his heart, his flesh, the gray-singed hair which falls in a featherlight wave over his forehead. The hair you sweep from his eyes when he’s on top of you, his hips cradled in yours, that all-encompassing feeling of every part of him filling every part of you.
It all feels that way. The warmth of him, the feeling of being wrapped around him. Hooked around his body, bones intertwined. Absorbing one another, his words breathing life into yours, slowly growing louder and braver with each pluck and strum of music.
We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year.
Your makeups entangling, ribcages locking together, flesh meeting flesh and hair twisting until one day, Tommy will come looking for his brother and find the two of you here on your porch, your arms still draped over Joel’s thigh and his fingers still mid-song. Stuck, alone, together.
What have we found? Joel looks down to you as though asking the question – his eyebrows raised – and you reply, a dumb smile across your lips, The same old fears, and then, together –
Wish you were here.
He plays until his fingers must start to hurt, the way he clenches and loosens his fist. Setting the guitar against your chair, hands hooking under your arms to pull you back up to him.
That one your favorite? he asks, the cold tip of his nose circling yours.
You nod. Only when you sing it.
I like the way we sound together.
You smile, shrinking into his chest again, your fingers surfing back and forth on the worn shirt. I like the way we do a lot of things together.
His hands slip beneath the fabric of your shirt, massaging your waist. He dots a trail of light, damp kisses along your forehead, dipping to your temple, the angle of your cheek until your jaw lifts and his lips are against yours, his tongue parting to lick purposefully at yours.
I love you, pretty bird, he whispers, the words falling sweet and fair on your tongue.
You take a moment to let them seep into your skin. ‘s the first time you’ve ever said that, you tell him.
Joel smiles. He knows. But you knew it already, he counters.
You know, too. Mhm.
Alright, he groans, slipping his hands under your thighs and hoisting you up to his height, bedtime.
It’s only ten, you complain, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders as he carries you inside. It’s too early to sleep – Joel.
Didn’t say we were goin’ to sleep, he mumbles, kicking the door shut.
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bambikisss · 3 days
Text
When at Coachella :: Song Mingi
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Lead Guitarist! Mingi x Singer! Reader (ft Manager!Yeosang)
🎶: Rude boy - Rihanna, Slow Down - Chase Atlantic, Mamacita - Chase Atlantic
📙: You and your band are on a sold out tour when you decide to make a pit stop at Coachella to perform, the performance being as hot as possible, leading to a night between you and your guitarist boyfriend, Song Mingi.
⚠: Unprotected sex (always wrap it up), accepting alcohol from a fan, public sex, Voyeurism (ft Yeosang), 69, talk about becoming an adult entertainer
Bambi's notes: I'm back! I recently watched Coachella and loved how Mingi looked and acted, so I used it as inspiration. I also realized that I haven't done anything with our Yeosang yet, so I thought this is how I introduce him to my writings lol. There also may be a part two for this 👀
REBLOGS + COMMENTS ARE WELCOMED AND ENCOURAGED
"Showtime in 10 minutes, everyone make sure you are ready!"
You could hear the roar of the crowd from your dressing room backstage, smirking as you heard the chants for you as you put on your lip gloss in the mirror.
Due to popular demand, you were to headline Coachella for the first time, being the reason for the surge in ticket sales. You were a very popular singer, you and your band are currently on a sold-out tour, making a pit stop at the festival for the night.
"You always look so good when you're like that."
Your smirk only grew as the door closed behind your guitarist, the click from locking the door echoing in the room as he approached you. You didn't move, allowing his hands to rest on your hips before slowly moving down to your skirt, his thumbs grazing the bottom of your ass. You were bent over the vanity, your hands moving to support you against the mirror as the man behind you licked his lips, pressing his body against yours as he played with the fabric of your skirt. You knew by the look in his eyes that he wanted to do a lot more than touch it, his eyes moving up your back slowly to meet your eyes in the mirror with a smirk of his own.
"Don't you know that you're not allowed in here, Mingi? Yeosang is going to get upset that you're in here after he banned you from being alone with me before performances."
"Who gives a fuck what stick up his ass Yeosang has to say about me seeing my sexy girlfriend?" Mingi scoffed, his hands slowly pushing up your skirt more to see the globe of your ass, chuckling when you began to move your hips side to side, giving your ass some movement against him. "Hey, be nice, he's our manager. He's just trying to look out for us and make sure that I get on stage on time, unlike the last time you came back here before a show."
At your words, a proud smile moves over Mingi's lip, remembering how he had you pinned against the wall at one of your concerts, making you late to get on stage after he drilled into you. He wouldn't stop until you came hard around him at least 3 times. He wouldn't take any excuse, even when Yeosang came banging on the door, following after you with a shit-eating grin on his face when you both emerged from the room.
"You excited for Chella, babygirl? The crowd is chanting your name." Mingi hummed, fixing his platinum hair in the mirror above you before pulling back to let you stand up straight, his hand resting on the small of your back as you both made your way to the stage. You nodded, picking up your microphone and in ears while Mingi did the same. Your set was around 22 songs, including 2 costume changes and even a special guest. Your show was one everyone was looking forward to and you wanted to make sure that you met their expectations.
You and the rest of your band listened to Yeosang give a rundown of the stage as you all stood up on the lift, Mingi's dark blue guitar resting against his feet as he bit his guitar pic, something he did before every performance. You nodded, smiling as the lift began to move up, the cheers growing louder and louder until you were on the stage, the huge crowd of people screaming their hearts out at your appearance.
"Coachella, make some noise for me!" The crowd was like putty in your hands, screaming even louder before the first song began. The crowd cheered for each band member as you introduced them.
You made a show of walking over to Mingi, the crowd getting even louder when you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend. "This is my right-hand man and lead guitarist, Song Mingi" Mingi accompanied your introduction with a guitar rift, your fans barking for him. It was a staple whenever he performed to bark for him, the barking growing louder as many of the Coachella crowd picked up on the trend, barking for him as well.
Your set was full of cheers, the band playing perfectly as usual, interacting with the fans while you sang. You were even able to get close enough to the fans to have them touch you, which Mingi smirked at. While you were on your knees in front of your fans singing, Mingi came over to play his guitar closer, the crowd exploding as he began to drop to his knees, performing the guitar rift right over you as you continued to sing. The moment would go viral on social media, you already knew it, but you were much more concerned with Mingi's dark eyes that met yours while he played before he shot you a secret wink, raising himself back up from being over you before he walked to play at the other side of the stage.
You were having fun singing, flirting more with Mingi as the songs went on, your touches getting hotter for opening his jacket during his solo to show off his fresh 'FIX ON' tattoo that moved over his chest and his abs, singing right behind him while he played, his head moving back to rest on your shoulder while he played. You could tell by the way he stared at you that he would've taken you right there on that stage if he could, his lust for you growing more and more as the songs went on.
Mingi was full of his own tricks, though, grabbing a shot of whiskey from a fan for both of you, holding one for himself before he handed it to you, you both taking the shot before he poured the rest on his head, shaking his head as he played, your eyes falling on the droplets of whiskey that moved down his chest and abs. Mingi then took the opportunity to press his forehead against yours, panting as he tried to keep eye contact with you. He wanted you to focus on him as he played, your vocals never wavering as you and he held eye contact, singing flirtatious lyrics as if you both were alone.
"Thank you Coachella!" You waved goodbye as your set finally ended, walking back to the lift with your band members, the crowd still cheering for you as the lift slowly fell as you all waved, Mingi's free hand landing on your lower back as you all slowly disappeared.
"Good job everyone, you all are trending on every social media site!" Yeosang complimented you all as you all walked from the lift, accepting the water bottles he handed out. You had barely taken a few sips of your water when Mingi began to drag you away from everyone else. Coachella's backstage area was all outside, the trailers being only for the artists to get ready. However, Mingi didn't have the patience to go all the way to the trailer, bringing you to an area that was empty near the stage, hidden behind a pillar. You didn't have to question him at all, his hands landing on your hips as your lips met his in a heated kiss, Mingi's grip on you tightening as he pressed his body against yours.
You ran your hands through his hair as he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist before he pressed your back against the pillar again, letting you feel just how much he wanted you. At your moan when he rolled his hips into you, he shushed you quickly, his teeth dragging along your bottom lip before he placed a finger against his lips, whispering "shh, baby. keep quiet for me, yeah? Don't want anyone to come over here for us."
"I thought you had always wanted an audience though?" You whispered back against his lips, your nails slowly dragging down his chest as he moaned softly. It was true: Mingi had a thing for pleasuring you with an audience, eating you out underneath tables when you are going live with fans, doing the same thing when you're recording with the producer in the room, Mingi wanted everyone to know just how good he could make you feel.
Mingi smirked, his hands grabbing at your breasts over your top as he responded "Can you handle that, though? Can you handle someone watching us with their hands down their pants as I fuck your pretty pussy? You won't get all embarrassed and try and look away as per usual?''
You nodded, feeling like you were in a haze as Mingi returned his lips to yours, his tongue teasingly moving over yours before he pulled back, his chest moving as he began to roll his hips against you. You were deep down happy that there was no one around the area, everyone backstage either leaving, trying to beat the traffic, or helping to pick up the trash around the festival site.
"Are you two done?" Your kiss with Mingi broke with Mingi's annoyed groan at Yeosang's words, rolling his eyes as he turned to face him. His eyes drilled into the manager before an idea came into his head. "Baby, Yeosang had to sign an NDA before he began working with us, right?"
"Yeah, he signed a bunch of them, why?" You remained in Mingi's arms as he turned to face Yeosang, a devious smirk moving over his lips before he said "No, actually, me and Y/N here aren't done. If you want to talk to her so much, you're going to have to talk to her while I eat her out."
Mingi's words made Yeosang blush, stuttering out a small "what?"
"You heard me: Either you wait to talk to her," Mingi paused, unwrapping your legs from around his waist before he placed you back down on the ground, Mingi's lips meeting yours before he slowly kissed down your body, dropping to his knees in front of you. "Or, you can stand here and talk to her while I eat out her wet pussy, your choice."
Yeosang couldn't help but stutter, trying to figure out if Mingi was serious, but when Mingi began to press kisses to the insides of your thighs, he could tell that he was in fact serious. At Yeosang not moving, Mingi smirked before looking up at you, asking "You're okay with our manager Yeosang watching us, right? I mean, whatever he has to say must be so important that it can't wait for us to finish." You bit your lip as you nodded, a small moan leaving your lips as Mingi bit down on your thigh, saying "No baby, out loud. Look at Yeosang and say it's okay if he watches."
"It's okay if you watch" You whimpered to Yeosang as Mingi kissed over his bite, placing your leg up onto his shoulder before he kissed up your thigh, his focus now only on your pussy as Yeosang cleared his throat. He felt challenged as if Mingi was challenging him to see if he wouldn't be able to handle the sight, but he could. Heck, he had walked past you both constantly fucking all the time, this was nothing different other than that he could see it.
"So, I'm going to go over the analytics of tonight's performance with you along with how payment is going to work." You nodded as Mingi pushed your panties to the side, cursing softly at how wet you seemed to be before he dipped his tongue into you, making you gasp. You tried to keep your facial emotions in check while Mingi ate you out, trying your hardest to pay attention to Yeosang's words and analytics from the show on social media. Mingi looked up at you as you kept talking to Yeosang, sucking hard on your clit to make you moan out loud in the middle of your sentence, your hand moving into his hair to press him against your pussy, making him moan into you. You wanted to keep him busy from trying to play with you, your cheeks already on fire from how Yeosang was watching you both.
Mingi smirked as your leg began to tense on his shoulder, letting him know that you were just about to cum. He slowly kissed up your body, his ringed fingers playing with your pussy lips as he whispered into your ear "you're focusing so hard baby, let me help you relax a bit"
You bit your lip harder as Mingi easily slipped 3 fingers into you, your hands rushing out to grip his forearm as Yeosang continued to talk to you, his eyes glancing down at your hands as they gripped Mingi's moving forearm as he fucked up into you with his fingers, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot, Mingi's lips all over your neck as he shamelessly whispered into your ear all about the things he wanted to do to you. Yeosang felt his cock twitch in his pants at the sight and the sound, his eyes slowly moving back up your body as you tried to hold back all your sounds. He hummed before holding up his tablet, needing your signature for something.
Your hands shook as you accepted the tablet from him, your orgasm right about to wash over you as you signed your name on the tablet. Mingi smirked as you came all over his hands, his gaze now moving to Yeosang as he slowly pulled his hands from you. You cleared your throat as you handed back the tablet, your signature drawn messily onto the page. Mingi shamelessly sucked on his fingers as Yeosang looked down at the tablet, holding back his smirk when he noticed that you had written your signature while you were cumming.
You rested against Mingi as he began walking to the limo, chuckling deeply before he paused, turning around to face Yeosang. "If you'll excuse me and Y/N, we're going back to the hotel. I'm sure everything else you need to say can wait?"
"Of course" Yeosang hummed, his eyes moving over both you and Mingi before he walked past you, his arm grazing yours as he made his way to his ride back to the hotel without even glancing back. "I think he liked it," Mingi chuckled, picking you up before carrying you to the limo, having you sit on his lap before your lips met in a heated kiss. You and Mingi kissed as the limo driver turned up the music, giving both you and Mingi as much privacy as he could as he was used to you both doing this. Mingi's hands moved down to your hips, his hands moving underneath the skirt to knead your ass as you deepened the kiss, your hips moving against Mingi's, his hard cock pressing against his belt hard.
Mingi tossed his head back as you kissed down his neck, your hands moving over his chest as Mingi helped you grind down against him, his eyes closing as you bit down on him. "That's my baby, mark me up. I wanna post a selfie tomorrow showing all your marks off on me." Mingi loved seeing the comments on the post debating whether or not it was real or not, if they came from a woman or from somewhere else- it always got him off.
"Should start recording us," he moaned out as you removed his belt, his hand landing harshly on your ass before he licked his lips. "Have you be my own private little porn star."
You moaned at his words, licking up his neck as Mingi continued to moan out his desires, not caring about the poor driver in the front as he dragged his hands up your ass slowly, his nails digging into you before you shut him up with a kiss, your lips and tongue meeting in a messy kiss that was fit for a porn star.
When the limo finally pulled into the hotel, Mingi and you rushed to exit the car before you both rushed into the hotel through the back that was for celebrities, bypassing the many cameras. Mingi and you both laughed as he pressed you against the wall of the staircase, your lips meeting in a deep kiss as you both stumbled up the stairs to your floor. Mingi then pressed you against your hotel room door, panting against your neck as his hands already began to unzip your skirt, his voice against your ear neck as he panted "You better hurry up before I shove down your skirt and take you in this hallway, maybe we can give the security team a show next."
You bit your lip as you pressed your keycard against the door, knowing that the security of the hotel didn't sign an NDA, unlike Yeosang. You pushed open the door, Mingi's body immediately following yours as you both entered the room, his heavy boots kicked the door closed before his lips met yours again in a messy kiss.
Clothing began to be thrown all around the bedroom as you both made your way to the nearest surface, which so happened to be the floor. Mingi chuckled softly as you both landed on the floor, Mingi's back pressing against the hotel's expensive carpet as he helped you move on top of him, moving you so you faced his cock while he could have you sit on his face. "Put that pretty pussy on my face, baby."
You didn't have to be told twice, moaning as your pussy landed right on his mouth, his tongue moving quickly to taste you. Your eyes closed, your nails digging into his abs before you leaned down to take his cock into your mouth, his own eyes rolling back at the feeling. Mingi swore there was something about how you took him deep in your throat that always made him fucking ravenous. He growled deeply against you, his hands moving to grip the globes of your ass as you took him deeper into your throat, all the way to the hilt.
"That's my fucking girl, taking me like a pro." Mingi praised, his tongue returning to you to match the pace that you set.
You stopped? He stopped.
You rolled your hips back? He rolled his hips up to make you choke on his cock.
Mingi was a man of many talents, and making you cum quickly was number one.
"I'm gonna cum, Mingi, fuck." You pulled back from his cock to pump him in your hand, your words urging your boyfriend to speed up as he curled his tongue, pumping another finger into you as he moaned, the vibrations helping you to cum all over his tongue.
Even though your haze you continued to pump Mingi's hard cock, Mingi tossing his head back against the floor as he praised you. "Faster, baby. Earn that nut from me, baby. I'm almost there with you just don't stop- oh my fucking god, yes"
Mingi couldn't even think straight as you deep-throated him, a small whine leaving his deep voice as he came. He didn't know what to grab onto, choosing to dig his fingers into your ass before he fully fell back against the floor, his body shaking slightly underneath you while you cleaned him up with your tongue. Mingi chuckled at the feeling, his hand landing a firm smack on your ass before he ran a hand over his face.
"You always make me cum so hard when you do that, baby. Always know how to make your man so fucking happy." He chuckled, helping you get up before he got up from the floor, his legs now slightly wobbly before as he laughed. He walked with you over to the bed, his hands resting against the sheets as he asked for a minute, still shaking from the orgasm you had given him, making you giggle. You loved watching Mingi recover from cumming, his hair being a mess, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath, the fresh layer of sweat making him glow in the room's light.
You crawled over to his hunched frame, pressing small kisses to his shoulders as he chuckled, his voice now even deeper. His hands then pushed you back on the bed, his tongue moving over your lips as he grabbed your legs, pulling you to the edge of the bed. He slowly pushed into you, his long and thick cock stretching you out as he slowly filled you up, making sure that you felt every single part of his cock.
"Yeah, baby, roll those eyes back at how good just having my cock feels in you" Mingi moaned, his eyes burning into you as your eyes rolled back as he stuffed you full. He loved how your body seemed to react to his cock whenever you both fucked, his eyes now on your breasts as he began to fuck you, watching as they bounced.
"Those perfect tits of yours too, fuck. Saw Yeosang looking at them earlier while I was finger fucking you. I don't blame him though, just look at how juicy your tits look when they're moving from my fucking cock" you moaned as Mingi's hands moved to your breasts, playing with them as he began to roll his hips, leaning down to wrap his lips around the nipple. Your moans got louder, your running through his hair as he switched nipples, his tongue moving over your nipples before he pulled back, pressing them against each other as he moved faster.
"Yeah, sing for me, Y/N. Sing for me while you take my cock" Mingi's pace picked up to drill into you, using your breasts as leverage to move you on his cock, his cock hitting deep into you as you moaned his name, your hands moving from the bed to his hair to his back; you didn't know where to hold on as he fucked you, your back arching as you felt your orgasm building up quickly. At your tightness, Mingi growled "No, not yet. You better hold on until I'm fucking ready, Y/N."
"Mingi" You begged, you cries not making your lover stop, only moving faster, his eyes moving from your face to your tits he still held onto your stomach as his cock plowed into you. He loved how you begged for him, his cock twitching before growled out "cum, cum for me baby"
You both came hard, your vision becoming blurry as Mingi's pace stuttered, his cock plowing into you before he filled you, his eyes closing before he rushed down to suck and lick on your tits, leaving hickies behind as he moaned and panted against you. You held him close as you both panted, Mingi soon landing on the bed right against you as you both tried to calm down. Your eyes were closed as Mingi kissed your shoulder, his hand moving your face to his as he kissed you, his tongue running along your bottom lip before he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips.
You rested against the bed as Mingi got up, blinking still as his vision returned, stumbling to grab both you and him a water bottle before he went back over to you, his phone also in his hand. He opened your bottle, handing it to you before he said "I'll turn the water on for you, baby, just lay there."
You nodded, resting with the cold water bottle while Mingi went into the bathroom, turning on the water for you and him to bathe. He sat down against the side of the tub, taking a sip of his water as he unlocked his phone, his eyes zeroing in on a text from Yeosang.
Yeosang: If you and her ever want an audience or more, I'd be more than happy to do so again.
BAMBIKISSS | 2024
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